#stinky the snail

[fm-synthesizer]

Sup Tumblr!

I recently reblogged Itchy Tasty, which reminded me of my favorite RE file. That file is the Secretary's Diary B from the OG RE2. This is how it reads:

SECRETARY'S DIARY B

June 8th As I was straightening up the chief's room, he burst through the door with a furious look on his face. It's only been 2 months since I've started working here, but that's the second time I've seen him like this.

The last time was when I bumped into that statue, only this time he looked even more agitated than ever. I seriously thought for a moment that he was going to hurt me.

June 15th I finally discovered what the chief has been hiding all along… If he finds out that I know, my life will be in serious danger. It's getting late already. I'm just going to have to take this one day at a time… It painted a horrific, dreaded picture in middle schooler me, and it still has that vibe all those years later! Besides that, I am obsessed with live performances of the Glenn Hughes sung song, Seventh Star! This live version was from 2002

That and the 2005 live versions, I really dig! They both have the same tuning and overall energy and style. I really adore them. It really works well as a live song imo. Creatively, I am working on an intro for Season 2 of my series, Megaman X vs. Zombies! So there's that as well :]

So that's what's up with with me, hope everything is great with y'all as well as this new year unfolds!

[thedisablednaturalist]

I love having a detritivore terrarium bc I can just put some old fruit or veggies in there and they go ham

[blueberryblowfly]

Each day I suffer knowing that giant African snails are semi common pets in Asia but they are outlawed where I live. Ya girl might smuggle some snails

I feel for you, But! keep your local ecosystem in mind and heart, I dunno where u live, but here in the usa those lil puppies Destroy crops and vegetation and are regarded as Very invasive. I must suggest loving them from afar 😔 heres a fun brave wilderness vid with one in it, i believe coyote mentions this about them as well

have a photo of a pet european snail i had as a teenager, sympathizes ❤🐌

[greencorncube]

[snail-eggs]

13 days till i’m reunited with yara 🙏

[jardaddy-a]

seemed like the right thing at the time. / random ... bc Crys wants to meet more !

           ❀🏮THE TRAGIC HIGANBANA❀ ━ TAYLOR SWIFT’S MIDNIGHTS *3AM EDITION (2022) ALBUM PROMPTS ┊ NO LONGER ACCEPTING !

       ˗ˏˋ🏮❀┊ ( * THE TRAGIC HIGANBANA ) ━  ❝ well . . . . ❞ THE GHOSTLY POET TRAILS OFF , crimson hues veering far from the woman of springtide . THE SPIRIT OF VENGEANCE pursed her lips , red focals land upon shelves of books , she pulls herself away from idling by prying hardbounds from mahogany nooks , idly searching through numerous volumes before she finally came up with a response , ❝ it's not really my right to judge the choices you've made . but as someone who thrives in vengeance , i'll let you know that you had every right to be angry to be raised as a blade instead of a living being , you had every right to seek the freedom they withheld from you . ❞ HER CLARET LIPS WARBLED , ❝ you did the only right thing you could do at that time . but it's not enough to reverse what they took from you . ❞ REMNANTS of her own history flowed along with her words &&. she no longer adds on as she busied herself with searching for a particular cover . . .

       ˗ˏˋ🏮❀┊ ( * HIGANBANA ) ━  ❝ oh ! i found it ! ❞ THE YOUNG WOMAN BEAMED , her grim expression instantly replaced with joy before she floated down from the high shelves , scurrying over to the waiting maiden , ❝ here's a good novel i recommend ! it's about a crown princess who had her birthright stolen by her relatives during her childhood , growing up she allied herself with a group who were also wronged by her relatives and they band together to reclaim the throne . basically the snippet of it , but there's a lot of exciting things in the book , i think you'll like it crys-sama . ❞

[fanaticsnail]

Sanji in his little "Kiss the Cook" apron.

Is it romantic? Starting as a joke with kisses on the cheek and temple until the two of you end up full on making out?

Or is it platonic? With the straw hats giving him little kisses in passing, starting with Luffy and spreading through the crew until even Zoro relents? Because what's better than kissing the homies goodnight?

You tell me snail, what's the move?

-♡♡ lots of love

"porque no los dos?"

Kiss the Cook

Masterlist here

Word Count: 1,700+

Synopsis: Sanji was gifted an apron from Nami after returning back from town. Every member of the crew aside from Zoro and you have followed the embroidered instructions written on his chest, and he wasn't happy about the lack of kisses from you. You finally relent and give him what he wants.

Themes: platonic kisses, fluff, implied f!reader - but can be read as gn!reader, sanji has feelings for you, you have unspoken feelings for sanji, idiots in love, Sanji has lost that 'line-cook rizz'.

Notes: This has been in my ask box for less than a day. I don't know what it is about you, anon. As soon as I see those two little hearts I'm just overtaken by something. I blame the "kisses". @chikariart on twitter.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @indydonuts @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @writingmysanity

“Could these onions misbehave any more?” the chef grumbled under his breath, gritting his teeth and clamping hard down on his cigarette, “C’mon, now. What have I gotta do to get your layers off? Talk dirty to you?” He used the steel edge of his knife to attempt to pry the brown outer layer away from its fleshy underside with shaking hands. 

Sanji’s nerves were ignited, his whole composure on edge and waiting for the next intrusion in his kitchen and potential distraction from his work. 

When Nami brought the frilly pink apron his way, he was initially ecstatic at the notion he was thought of enough to be given a little gift. But as the red embroidery with white stitched hearts expressed consent for his body to be given sweet kisses at all times, he was truly alert. With an assault of affection from all who approached him each time he adorned the fabric in its wake, he was finding it difficult to focus on each mundane kitchen task. 

In this case, peeling onions was the bane of his existence. As the flickered peel almost withdrew from the circular bulb, it split and only chipped off a small amount of the outer layer. 

Sanji loved kisses, adored kisses: all the cheek, forehead and shoulder kisses he'd received from the crew. Cheeky Nami kisses, soft Robin kisses, and nibbled toothy kisses from Chopper were his favorites. 

He was less enthusiastic about hulking, wet kisses from Franky, nor the hungry cheek kisses from Luffy which was used to depict the state of his appetite. Usopp was the middle ground, his kisses were a tease on his shoulder with a rough clap and a gaggle of laughter immediately thereafter.

Brook’s kisses were actually quite funny to the blonde cook. As the skeleton man had no lips to kiss with, he resigned himself to the notion of simply walking past him, and taunting him with a melodic hum of the words: “kiss,” “kisses,” or an emphatic “mwah,” as he did so.

Of the members of the remaining crew, he was happy that the stinky moss-head kept his lips to himself. There was no way he would allow him the closer proximity to his body without starting a sparring match. He was, however, not so happy that you were yet to place your lips sweetly on the apple of his cheek. 

Sanji adored you, wanted to treat you with the utmost respect and dote on you alongside the other members of the crew. You were special to him, and he rationalized that his small crush was why he was craving a scrap of your attention so much. As he continued cursing at the onions, he heard a soft tap on the doorway to the kitchen. 

“Need help, cook?” Sanji looked up, noticing you leaning on the side of the door. He smiled softly at you, biting back his smile and gulping his insecurity. 

“Oh, beautiful angel,” he managed to turn away from the counter and look out the window as he resumed his battle with the onions, “I'm all good here, don't you worry yourself. Go relax with the others.” You clicked your tongue and stepped closer to the bench and stood a few feet away from the blonde cook. 

Noticing his posture, you knit your brows in puzzlement. He was twitching while he was going about his peeling, finally managing to coax the shell away from the exterior and sigh in relief. His cheeks were tinted a soft shade of pastel pink, his nose the most darkened by the blushy hue. 

Looking down, the frilly pink apron with ‘Kiss the Cook,’ held the final piece of information as to his nervous composure. You smiled softly at him, looking to where his hands skillfully minced the onions and threw them into a scorching pot with molten butter and aromatic herbs. 

He rinsed his hands in the sink, lathering them with soapy froth and soaking the suds with glassy water. The scent from the pot of sweetened onions with rosemary, sage and thyme had your mouth salivating in anticipation of what was to come. 

“What's cooking, good looking?” you smiled at him softly, gesturing with your chin to the pot on the stove. He froze up, his ears tinting darker with the shade of pink. 

“J-Just a mirepoix,” he stuttered out, prompting you to shake your head and offer him a soft laugh in response. Taking the extinguished cigarette out of his lips, he placed the butt in the bin beneath the sink. 

Noticing the tension in his body, you reach up and place a hand on his shoulder to urge him to turn to face you. He meets his gray orbs with yours, a sheepish look on his face as you gaze up into his eyes. 

“You've been off the line for too long, Sanji,” you scrunch your nose up playfully at him, “Lost that flirtatious kitchen charisma and banter, blushing like a bride at the most simple of compliments. What's going on with you?” You graze your fingers along his jaw, leaving a rising layer of goose flesh in its wake. 

“I-It’s-...” Sanji gulped his nerves back, hanging his head with a soft laugh and subtle shake in response, “...It's this stupid apron.” You look down at the apron with a smirk. 

“What about the ‘stupid apron’, Sanji?” you ask with a raised brow before gazing back into his eyes, “Not your color?” He continued smiling and shaking his head at you before looking up through his eyelashes into your questioning and puzzled eyes. 

“To be honest with you,” he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to halt his words from sounding too eager, “I actually love it. Even though it started as a joke, it has actually made a big difference the way I’ve been feeling lately.” He shrugged, turning his eyes back to the ground and snickering, “Stupid, right?” 

Cupping his face, you elevate his head and hum at him in deep contemplation. 

“Not stupid,” you shrug at him, darting your eyes between his and flickering your gaze down to his lips, “Not stupid at all.” His breath hitched in his throat, eyes beginning to fill with hope as you drew your face ever closer to his. 

Closing his eyes, he parted his lips and anticipated feeling yours brush with them. His heart beat in his throat, his ears hearing that drum of hope ringing with his elevated pulse. As he drew his face closer still, the balloon of anticipation was instantly deflated as he felt your lips brush with the apple of his cheek and linger for less than a single second. 

As you withdrew from his cheek, Sanji was left feeling like a complete idiot. He stared vacantly, directly ahead with unblinking eyes and his ego completely deflated. His heart fizzled out like a flame being snuffed by a wet blanket. 

Looking at his vacant expression and the soft blush on his cheeks, you couldn’t help yourself. A single, timid kiss was not enough of an indulgence to grant to the blonde cook, in your opinion. You leaned forward once more, pressing a soft kiss on his angular jaw before pressing another on his neck above his pulse and beneath his ear lobe. 

Sanji’s breath hitched, his hands opening and closing in clenched fists and shaking extensions. Gasping, he leant his head to the side and whimpered at the soft touches you were pressing into his skin. His pulse quickened, his breath hitched, and his eyes clenched tightly shut as he argued with himself where to place his hands on you. 

Trailing your lips down to his collarbone, you pressed a sweet and gentle kiss against the bone before clamping your teeth down onto the flesh. Sanji mewled in pleasure at the attention, throwing his head back and drawing up his forearm to his face to catch the damp blood from exiting his nose. His head was dizzy, his lips parting and whining as he felt your tongue swirl around the soft bite to his collar. 

Pulling away from him, you sucked your lips into your mouth and bit-back your smile at his reaction. He slowly drew his eyes down to meet yours, the irises eclipsed by blown pupils and his desire. Giggling at him, you tilted your head to the side and clasped your hands behind your back and rocked on your feet. 

Sanji surged his body forward, claiming your cheeks beneath his hands and carding his fingers through your hair the moment his lips descended onto yours. You squeaked in response, immediately placing your hands on Sanji’s hips as he pinned you against the sink with his hips. His kisses were needy, desperate and full of desire. 

As he rotated his chin to deepen the oscillation, you reached up to his shoulder and tapped it twice while gasping in his mouth. He tugged himself away, looking down at you in shock with wide eyes and panting breath.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he began to hastily relay his apologies, “I didn’t mean to do that, truly. The other kisses I get from the crew are usually a little more hasty and less indulgent. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, honest-.”

“-Sanji,” you laugh at him, looking up through half-hooded lashes and brushing your nose with his, “Your mirepoix is going to burn.” 

Immediately, Sanji broke himself away from you and stomped over to the large pot. He grumbled as he stirred the aromatics with a wooden spoon, growling under his breath, “This stupid apron has been nothing but a complete distraction.” You giggled at him as he aggressively began stirring at the pot to salvage the caramelizing vegetables. 

“That’s it,” he tore the apron away from his chest and cast it to the side, “No more kisses in the kitchen. I refuse to have good food spoil because I’ve been getting distracted by soft kisses… sweet kisses…” he trailed off, fishing around in his pocket for a cigarette after he rotated the vegetables within the butter. 

Shaking your head, you go and retrieve the apron from where he cast it aside and hung it over the kitchen table. Eyeing him over mischievously, you walk over to him and hold his hips firmly from behind and place one more soft kiss between his shoulder blades. 

“Come find me when you want to put on that stupid apron again, hm?” you utter, releasing his hips and making your way over to the kitchen doorway and out of the room with haste. 

Sanji shook his head with a warm smile and a dark blush. Looking to where you had just left, he sighed deeply and began to focus solely on the meal preparation with no more cause for distraction.

[sadface-usui]

A month ago, our mother found a baby snail while sorting out the kangkong (water spinach) she was going to cook so now it's me and @hanifungus's pet 🥹

[numberonecodwomenfan]

every time i see someone write könig calling horangi or y/n kätzchen i die a little inside because look. for horangi, katze would be cute bc yk. tiger. cat. but KITTEN???? absolutely not. so as someone with zero qualifications besides having a german grandma and being like 1/4 german, here are some nicknames he would actually use.

schnecke - means snail. its just a term of endearment but i think the actual translation is hella funny.

schatzi - everyone has him use schatz but for some reason it makes me cringe, schatzi just sounds more casual?? idk.

schnucki - god why do these all start with sch. anyway this one is super cringe and literally only old people use it but i imagine he was raised by his mom and his grandma so hes a lil cheesy like that. cutie patooter.

erdbeerchen - it means little strawberry and its so stupid and corny and i love it. why would he call his significant other this? dont ask me. its just funny and hes a loser.

sternchen - this one means star and yet again. why would he call his significant other this one? because he’s a loser. thats why.

PLEASE for the love of god i need people to write him using pet names other then schatz and liebling. also in my personal opinion 🤓 he wouldnt call someone hase or maus because EW!!! PEE YEW STINKY!!!! idk it always comes across as very… predatory (??) when people write him saying that. it feels like it’s always the people that use those that write him as a creepy incel pervert for some reason and i do not like that!!

[miamaymarry]

Follow your favorite translator @linzi-yay 

Title: Eating river snail rice noodles. (aka stinky rice noodles) 

tl note: river snail rice noodles are known for their spiciness levels and strong smell... but its delicious and people get addicted to eating it

[biggaybunny]

Stellaris is a fascinating mess of systems that I could talk forever about. For those unaware, it’s a grand strategy game that takes place in a galaxy filled with different alien nations. If you don’t know what a grand strategy game is then google it or something I’m not your mother.

Anyway one of my favorite little tidbits is one of the fundamental underpinnings of how diplomacy works, which is the relationship score. Your relationship with another empire is the sum of two numbers, your opinion of them (on a scale from something like -1500 to 1500 or something like that), and their opinion of you. These two numbers are themselves sums of several different factors such as diplomatic arrangements you’ve made, compatibility of political ideology, frequency with which you bathe, etcetera.

Now the part I want to talk about *specifically* is the basic diplomatic action you almost always have available to you: “Improve Relations”. It’s the most basic idea: you ship over a diplomatic envoy to shake their least slimy tendrils and say nice things about the way they’ve decorated the place. This improves their opinion of you, which as you may remember, makes your relationship as a whole go in the positive direction. Pretty simple.

Now the funny part is that. Well. The developers decided that obviously you need the opposite option. You need a way to say “I DON’T want to be friends with that alien empire, they bathe far too frequently for my tastes”. And what’s the opposite of Improving Relations, of course? Why, Harming Relations! So you. You send them an envoy. Whose entire job is to just... piss these people off. To shake the incorrect tendril and insult their aesthetic senses just because they happen to be a race of sentient cubes. You make them hate you, because you already don’t like them, and I guess you feel awkward about it not being mutual? And the funniest thing is that AI-controlled nations will, of course, use this option! If you’re trying to butter up the powerful, belligerent warmongering star empire next to you because you’re a race of peace-loving snails and you’ve spent this entire time building megamalls in fucking space instead of, like, military installations, that empire will go “oh no you don’t” and send one of their envoys over to start calling you a poopy stinky slimeball, resulting in a net zero change in your relationship score with them. Of course, this means that, technically, they have an extremely high opinion of you after a while, because the envoy you’ve sent over is affecting their opinion, and the one they’ve sent over is affecting yours, but you know, let’s not think too hard about that.

Oh, and there’s uh, already another mechanic for lowering their opinion of you. It’s the “insult” diplomacy option. So you can like, ring up the Borg or whoever, ask them if you can speak to Hugh Jass, and then hang up on them when they yell at you. So the whole system is redundant but nevermind.

Stellaris, everybody!

[nightmaresyrup]

OPEN FAITH!

V.II snail's AC has some groovy bell bottom pants!

Aaannnddd himbofied V.II Snail! Aww yeah! I see his stinky posh attitude as a big-brained-narcissistic-body-builder that flexes any chance he gets. HE MARVELS on how great he is! 🤣

[liminsendhelp]

Don't pet the flea cat

Price×f!reader

Tags: slight description of reader (chubby, muscular, strong, denying gender as a concept), possibly slightly sociopathic/autistic reader, profanity, denial of authority, evil scientist on the way to becoming. tags and warns are the same as in the last post, srry, I don't have time to make it more civilized and readable. Enjoy

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Feck, the next Si thing is gonna be called "coming undone" cos I like korn and I'm funny. just saying

It was decided to start tomorrow.

After breakfast. Which you and Price would attend together. You sleep off the night, decide to skip the rewashing of your bones from a bunch of failed abortion victims smoking at the wall opposite. The thought of talking to them makes your stomach turn. It's disgusting.

At seven in the morning, you're standing at the gym door waiting for Price. You have a huge tracksuit. It's black, it's old, but it's intact. You brought it for the occasion. The lucky one when you'd have to participate in experiments and you didn't want to sacrifice normal clothes for stinky rodents. You end up using it for the same thing.

You hear footsteps at the end of the corridor. "I agreed to this so I could go through the archives. Not to get military training." "And yet. You're here. That's gratifying."

Half an hour. Half an hour of warm-up, treadmill leading to exercise, baffled breathing, and endless sweat. He asks if you need to rest twice. But, God, you just smile and refuse to take any extra indulgences. He's already treating you almost gently. It's infuriating. You're not that weak.

So you grit your teeth and do what you have to do. For the sake of it, you push yourself with workouts at night, and days when some crappy scientific "War and Peace" can only be read while doing push-ups.

"Ever lifted anything?" "Only people." "Weight?" "Last one was three months ago. I was carrying some bloke in my arms. Five kilos bigger than me." You know you're digging yourself a deeper hole than you need to. But really, it doesn't seem like a test, just a regular workout together. Price is calm, attentive and strong. In his wrinkles you see traces of history. There's an skies in his eyes. You wait for your judgement. Your tongue tastes like blood, your throat is sore. You can barely keep your breathing steady without seeming even weaker. Pryce's gaze stops at your neck, the accelerated pulsation of a vein under your skin. "Rest." "I…"

A heavy hand covers your shoulder. A slight push, and you're sitting on a bench with a bottle of water. Wanted to test, now patronising? You blink, blatantly expressing your outrage.

"Don't be stubborn, you can't stand up straight." "Make a nasty joke yourself, I'm tired." You say finally, opening the bottle.

He hums, stepping away to finish his workout without exhausted you. In the couple of days you've known him, it's become strangely easy to imagine the curve of his mouth beneath his silly beard. No. His t-shirt is scuffed up. His body is hairy, too. Ugh. Even that fucking snail trail is straight and… Better than yours. That's not jealousy.

"Ghost." You drop it after a couple of sips. "Always knew how to surprise me."

Changing weights on the barbell. Heavier, heavier, and heavier. You find yourself not wanting to pull more answers out of him, content with fatigue and the sight of someone else's strength. Imagining yourself as an emperor is much easier, watching a gladiator. Enough. Scratching your lower lip with your teeth, you sigh and leave for the shower.

"Wait by the stairs when you get out."

You raise your thumb in the air without turning around.

Seven minutes and twenty-five seconds later, you're standing, washed, dried, and changed. You share a locker with a nice girl who has agreed to give you her number (phone number too) for the nice bonus of three cigarettes. That way you don't have to go through the annoying process of having your name confidentiality violated. Retreating to the stairwell, you open the door to observe but not be observed. Hidden in the shadows of the lower stairwell, next to the mops and a couple of buckets. You wait in silence for him for the fifteen minutes that remain before you leave for the enemy camp. This would all be a lot easier if he were at least a medic. That's what you've been thinking about for hours now. And it's awful. It's disgusting. You know you're falling in love before you're ready to admit it.

For what? That intelligent look in his eyes? How soft he seems compared to everyone else here? Like a boulder amongst the shards of glass and metal. For a little patience and understanding. No, medic's too soft. You'd have less trouble with your feelings if he was a serial killer. A maniac. But he's not crazy. You feel the humming walls of empty space echoing inside his soul. Price seems like a good man, even as Captain. And the fact that he's good at separating himself from himself doesn't let you relax for a second.

Overdeveloped emotional intelligence scares the hell out of you. Because it means he sees you, too. Like that's not a turn-on. Anyway.

He'll be leaving to play hide-and-seek with death in about a month. Official word is that your downsized staff will be moved to new quarters in about three months. Remodelled. Who do they think you are? You signed so many agreements during the transition, there's no doubt something's brewing. On your first day at the base, you joked that they wanted to organise you into a science underground. Dr Moon didn't laugh. So one month, and you'll never meet again. Until then, your only purpose is research.

Ghost didn't eat. Not in front of you. Two days passed. The first interviewees were Soap and Gaz. They were on the list of those whom Price himself was prepared to provide as interviewees. The night before the third day, you did go out for a smoke. It was unbearable.

Five interviews. Three on the first day. Unfocussed answers, half-friendly, half-professional atmosphere. You filled in the blanks not only with the obligatory material, but also with voluntary additions. You had their medical records on hand in printed form. Folders of examinations from the past years. You asked, and only one of them confessed to having lied in the last year. His arm was still sore from the wound. The others were silent. Their incredulity was forgivable. It was only fair, considering you'd still be going through their files as meticulously as possible. Or maybe you wouldn't. Ordinary blokes, nothing criminal. They've all got morals twisted in the same inhumane way that any military man has. Something about duty, about calling, about wanting to help people. Their good intentions were just an assumption. The stupid cruel jokes they allowed themselves while you watched them that evening said more than necessary. Ordinary blokes, ordinary brutes, ordinary dogs. On the second day, Gaz and Soap happened. You don't see Kyle as "Gaz." He's more of a beagle with the intelligence of a parrot (in a good way). Perhaps because of your prior acquaintance, he finds himself a little more relaxed in your company. And allows himself to deny you a look at his medical records. What the fuck. Fuck. You don't smile, just nod, knowing you'll be going back to his files anyway. But, you're willing to do the favour and consider the other candidates first in your work. You pray to your luck that Soap doesn't turn out to be that smart. Unfortunately, luck responds by making him just incredibly annoying. He's joking. No. He tells shit jokes. And not the fatherly type, oh, all the ones that crawl out of Johnny's mouth and fall in a gooey mass at your feet - vulgar, filth.

"That's why you're not married." "How do you figure?" "All your jokes are from porn."

So you're annoyed. Soap has poured such a flood of information on you about every wounding he's done that you're left in no doubt - he's just messing with you. And you have to sit through mountains of reports and thoughts, trying to piece together in intervals the scraps of callus masses that have stuck to your efforts at systematisation. At three o'clock in the morning you pull your petrified arse off the chair and go for a smoke.

So, the wall opposite the wall of smokers. This time, they don't stare at you when they notice you. You're just waved at. Don't get mad. Let them get you emotional once, and you've already lost. You spend a second forming your mask, before walking up to the group with a wry grin. "There she is, the captain's mutt." "Envy is bad, poopsie." You're tired enough from hours on the job not to make any sudden fist movements towards his unbroken nose. Especially since the soldier behind him is already slapping his backside and hissing about how he's going to kick his arse for treating a woman like that. "I meant the wag!" "Fine, so you think before you say shit, hm?" "That's what everyone's talking 'bout!" "About the fact that I'm his…" You take the cigarette out of your mouth, and exhale the smoke downwards without taking your eyes off the joker. The light in your hand is aimed precisely at him. He's silent. "Come on." He's silent. "Come on, keep going." He sighs and scratches the back of his head. You take another puff as the soldier picks up the excuses.

"You mean that rumour I'm his girlfriend?"

A spit in the sky. Exactly at the star. The soldier coughs it up crumpled.

"Well, or fucking him, you can phrase it however you like." "Stop it!" "What's so confusing to you? Quite possible conclusions. It's 'k. You need to amuse yourself. So, keep talking." You take another puff, this time exhaling the smoke exactly into his face. He tolerates it. "You don't think I'm in any kind of relationship with him, do you?" "Sat down with him the first day you were seen together, driving around, fraternising with his crew."

"Standing out, then. Coming out of nowhere, doing whatever I want, talking to people you'd be scared to look at, let alone breathe next to." You cluck and shake your head in feigned sympathy. "And the only option to achieve all that appeal is sex. Am I understanding this logic correctly? And since I'm someone's… mutt, I can't be touched or Daddy will come and fuck you after he rips those uniform trousers, hmm?"

He snaps, says something, but you cut it off with such a disappointed sigh that the soldier immediately thinks of his mother. "I'm leaving. I'm late to pee in the corners and ask for a bone." You say and you bark unemotionally. You didn't think it would start so soon. Well, if it does, it'll be quicker for those idiots to finish all the rumours. Or they'll finally decide you two are together. You weren't going to deny it, you weren't going to change their minds. That would only convince them you were right.

In training, you feel as drained as possible, still completing all the exercises. You don't leave early, as you've done the last two days, but stay, watching Price for a while. He clearly senses that a question is about to follow. You decide not to leave him waiting for long. "Are you married?" "No." Looking still equally thoughtful, you nod. Your lips tighten, your fingers drumming on the bottle cap. "Would you say that your attitude towards me is different from the others on the base?" You say as he finishes the set. "Yes." Short questions, as if you're interrogating him. "Should I be wary of your groupies?" "Are there precedents already?" "Oh, more. There's already a nickname."

About an hour earlier, just before you leave, you're caught by Dr Moon, who doesn't bother to hide her smirk calling you 'Captainess'. Adorable.

"Mutt, Captainess." "They're bored." "Same opinion."

He walks over to the bench you're sitting on, wiping his face with a towel. You hand him a bottle of water. "On the other hand, if they think you're a little more important, will make contact sooner." You raise an eyebrow. "When you come to interview them, I mean."

Of course he's got it all figured out from the start. You have a sneaking suspicion that your reputation might be playing backwards. Or it's just another test. Sometimes you thought your paranoia was taking too important a position in the decision-making battles. But, if you go straight and ask now, would it be… even more suspicious and straightforward than it is now? It's silly, but you say nothing, nodding, going off to separate showers with Price and not thinking about the scrambling anxiety.

Ghost is, again, not eating. He's not with his team twenty-four hours a day, yet he's almost always with them, as if he doesn't think he can fight them off. Not as a guard dog, but as a piece of the puzzle. Except he feels the urge to complete their picture, or does he just not want to feel lost?

You cross out the questions on the sheet again, knowing it's futile. Idiotic. Why the fuck did he say yes? Fuck.

You're not nervous, but Ghost can't help but inspire caustic respect for his strength and stealth. "Totally unlike me," you lie to yourself. It's easy to recognise a mortal possessive when you're the same. When the place of emptiness is taken by something, that something only comes back out gutted. After the last time, you try to stay away from anyone. And all that understanding, respect, keeps you from asking the same annoying questions. You've managed to interview everyone left behind. A reduced list of questions, a learned tactic. Habit. That part of you, laying fallow, covered in the dust of reclusive work, takes root in the top layers of the mask. Sociality, that's it. Ghost is late. You sense it even before he doesn't show up in the appointed frame of time. The sun hasn't yet had time to roll down the axis definitively. You don't switch on the overhead lights, letting the natural light do its job. So far, there's plenty of it. A depressing sight really. But soon, pretty soon, the night will be stretched out for most of the day. Mid-autumn, after all.

When Ghost comes in, you're standing against the wall, making yourself some tea. Not bagged, but real, leafy tea. That's the third reason the rank and file co-operate with you. A handful of insults, a couple of cigarettes, a pinch of good tea. You notice that all the tension around you goes down. You, too, become a piece of the mosaic in this picture. So, in the warmth of the passing day, you mutter a simple tune, adding thyme to a large mug.

Ghost watches, appreciating the immediacy, the humanity of that soft and inner, beyond the shell. It is as if there is no threat, no limits to the room. There is only warmth, steam from the hot tea, and even the sunlit dust stops, afraid to leave the moment of peace. And you stand, making your delicious tea. Settled, at home for a second, completely unafraid. Like a snail getting a new shell. Like you've always been here.

Something, inside, in a cut for the soul, where he doesn't dismiss the possibility of foolish and civil happiness (if not for himself, then for his loved ones), quietly clicks.

Not a maniac, just a lost girl.

The dust specks still drift in the air the same way, the light framing the artistic shagginess of your hair. Nothing changes for a second, three, ten, and then Ghost sees your ears rise, your back tense, your humming quieten. You don't look away from the window where you've been staring at the ant milling about for the last minute. But you let him know you know, as if he hadn't noticed it himself.

"Do?" You lift your mug of tea. "Do." The door closes behind him.

When he leaves, you're devastated. Because, he really did answer questions. But you can't take any of this into work. It's too much revelation and secrecy. It's too much revelation and secrecy. Ghost almost put his cards in your hands, willingly. Another test? No. Is this how your relationship with Price affects your reputation? There's two empty mugs in the corner, next to the sink. You don't wash them, so you can keep the confirmation of his ghostly presence and the story you'll take to your grave.

[snail-eggs]

i feel so bad for people who watch movies over discord with me because it’s just me making bad commentary and asking whether or not they can see/hear for two hours

[nightjarring]

what do thrones eat? the big ones look like they take a lot of feeding. do the bird body ones eat bird food?

Thrones do, in fact, eat a lot. It depends a lot on their bodies, but most are largely omnivorous. Since being able to stomach a greater variety of foods means more things are then available to stomach. Throne bodies are also largely cosmetic, so they might not need to eat like the animal they most closely resemble. The Thrones of Sevab House have serpentine bodies, but don't eat all that differently than the beast-footed Thrones. The body-shape they have does usually come with practical concerns that influence things like diet, though. The beast-footed houses, take Dedēsne House as a good example, eat more wild game than the serpentine Thrones of Sevab House, because there's more of a culture of nobles going on hunts there, while Sevab's Thrones are more expected to drape themselves elegantly about and have clever things to say. They still might be designed with dietary preferences for cultural reasons, i.e., a house that follows a branch of religion that practices vegetarianism not being capable of eating anything other than plants - which is also in line with the fact that Thrones are held by their communities to higher standards of religious conformity, they are Holy Beasts after all. This mostly applies to Thrones with ruminant-like bodies, where the herbivory is symbolically significant. This would also come with the expected Ruminant Issues, though, so that's a thing.

The Lujnola Thrones are an interesting case, however, because their bodies are designed to be more practical than average, and some of the restrictions of real birds also extend to them. You won't find any adapted to eat leaves (no stinky hoatzin Thrones alas). The Lujnola Thrones eat fruit more than anything else. It makes up probably 70 or 80% of their diets, with some meat thrown in. The meat is quite varied, though. They do hunt and especially trap wild game, but like to eat animals - lizards, turtles, frogs, insects, and smaller mammals like rodents and tiny forest deer. They do have some livestock, big meaty snails, and certain woodboring insects with large grubs are generally popular in the eastern empire. The most unique livestock Lujnola has is a species of arboreal, golden-furred rodent that's often eaten on special occasions. There are quite a lot of spiritual cleanliness practices around hunting and the use of weapons specifically, which is actually a bit of a point of prejudice the Throne-Lords of the region have against their non Throne subjects, who hunt game like deer, boars, and forest cattle. None of the Thrones ever hunt large game, and they don't eat bird meat out of principle, at least not in Lujnola Province, traveling Thrones of the house wouldn't always turn bird meat down, fowl just arent hunted or kept as livestock back home. That isn't because "it's cannibalism", they just have a huge respect and reverence for birds in general. They do like eggs, though. A lot of rituals and "magical" practices involve eating bird eggs, and different species of bird are said to embue their eggs with different properties - cleverness from a Jay, bravery from a hornbill, love from a parrot, etc.

-

Also, because Throne bodies are so large, the mouth of their "head"/human portion is not adequate to feed them, which is why most Thrones have secondary, more proportionate mouths. Have an old doodle of a guy having a snack.

[g0at0ad]

HOLLOW KNIGHT TIERLIST: NPC HUGGABILITY

remember 100 years ago when i made an npc huggability tierlist for hollow knight that i never finished? well here’s the final version! this time we’re starting from the bottom rather than the top.

#42. midwife

hornet can probably attest to how creepy midwife’s hugs are. she uses her many tiny skittering arms to pull you in, whether you like it or not. there’s a 50/50 chance that she’s just going to eat you. 0/10, would not recommend.

#41. leg eater

he’ll probably make you pay to hug him, and it won’t even be a good hug! his bony, sharp limbs will dig into your back, and his disgusting smelling breath will blow under your ear as he giggles ominously, making you shiver uncomfortably. all around a bad experience, but there’s little chance of him eating you so he goes ahead of midwife.

#40. snail shaman

i love you snail shaman, but slimy hugs are a NO GO. if he wasn’t slimy, the hug would be perfectly pleasant! but as it stands, a hug with the shaman would leave you covered in sticky snail slime. gross and uncomfortable. sorry dude. originally waffled on snail shaman and leg eater’s placement, but in the end decided that slime can be washed off, but nightmares can’t.

#39. godseeker

no arms to hug with, and will probably be very resistant to a hug.

#38. little fool

also no arms to hug with, but they’ll appreciate it!

#37. mister mushroom

mister mushroom

#36. steel soul jinn

unfortunately, jinn is covered in, well, steel. hugging her would be cold and very uncomfortable. she does not have much experience with hugs, and her metallic arms willy very rigidly wrap around you in an awkward way. she won’t know when to end the hug so you will have to tell her.

#35. tuk

tuk lives in the sewers and thus is very unsanitary, and also likely has bad breath due to all the rotten eggs she consumes. sanitary issues aside, she’s also pretty antisocial and reluctant to hugs. not a bad hugger though, taking into account the purely technical side. very big, so her hug will envelop you.

#34. fluke hermit

similar problems to tukk in that she lives in the sewers and likely isn’t very sanitary. also probably doesn’t have much experience in hugs, but hypothetically due to her squishiness would be very fun to squeeze.

#33. dung defender/ogrim

i am SO sorry ogrim, you’re one of my favourites, but i would not hug a man covered in shit. if you were not covered in shit, you would be near the top, but alas. you are covered in shit. hypothetically, a non shitty hug would have ogrim picking you up, swinging you around, and then squeezing you to his chest. he’s very enthusiastic about it. 3/10, take a shower dude.

#32. willoh

look, no one likes willoh, but if they don’t decide to eat you, their hugs aren’t actually that bad! imagine hugging a giraffe. doesn’t that sound nice?

#31. divine

a little less creepy than leg eater! also probably more sanitary! you might have to go on your tippy toes and wrap your arms around her neck and bury your face in her ruff. her claws might be a little uncomfortable around your back, but the hug wouldn’t be too terrible.

#30. confessor jiji

her breath’s very stinky, but if you don’t breathe in through your nose, it won’t be too bad! has very long arms that could probably double wrap around you. might rifle around in your pockets to see if you have a rotten egg.

#29. the hunter

extremely large and bony, but a surprisingly good hugger. long arms will wrap you in a hug, and you’ll be forced to shove your face in a bunch of leaves, but the hug is secure and makes you feel safe. then he follows it up by explaining how he uses a similar technique to strangle his victims, and you feel decidedly less safe.

#28. the hollow knight

it’s quick, you have to get in their mind to defeat the infection, but you spare a moment to wrap your hands around their neck as they struggle under hornet’s needle. you can’t tell, but they seem to relax a little. you’re hurt, and it’s hot, and they can’t hug you back, and it’s over too soon. but you will treasure this.

#27. tiso

very, very difficult to get him to hug you. he only way to get him to hug you is to challenge his ability to hug and mock him if he refuses, telling him that even elderbug is better at hugging than him. tiso will pick you up and squeeze you as tight as possible. you may lose a life from this. his armor is heavy and cold, but you appreciate his effort.

#26. zote

grumbles and complains about the offer, but ultimately needs the hug WAY more than you do, and might secretly cry a bit. hug lasts a little too long, but you won’t mention it because it looks like the guy really needed a moment. he pulls away discreetly wiping his eyes and stubbornly says that he won’t ever hug you again because you’re terrible at it.

#25. salubra

has a great big squishy hug, but it’s one of those hugs you might get from a grandparent or distant aunt that lasts just a bit too long and is just a bit too tight. she ends it by giving you a great big wet kiss that you didn’t ask her. still, it’s very enthusiastic and warm and loving.

#24. millibelle

i hate her. you hate her. we all hate her. that said, from a purely objective lense, she’s a pretty good hugger. it’s nothing too special, but she’s gentle and sweet about it, and it’s all around a good experience. there’s a non-zero chance of her pickpocketing you, though.

#23. eternal emilita

if you ignore her eternal laughter, it’s not a bad hug! doesn’t last too long, but it’s a perfectly fine, normal hug that you’d get from a friend. a friend who laughs about everyone being dead.

#22. grimm

chuckles ominously, but agrees to give you a hug. it’s pretty good, actually. very warm. a little too warm, actually. it has to be over sooner than you’d like because of how hot it is, but he pats you on the head and disappears.

#21. white lady

also does not have arms, but there’s something about sitting in your mother’s lap that makes you feel safe and loved, despite everything she’s done to you. later you will curse her for what she did to you and your siblings, but when you sit in her lap as she hums a lullaby, it’s very hard not to forgive her.

#20. mask maker

so many arms to hug you with!

#19. oro

you’ll have to pay him, and he’s very reluctant about it, but he’s actually a very good hugger, and you can tell he misses hugging someone. it ends too soon and he scoffs at you to leave. you know he liked it, though. you can tell by the flower he put in a vase.

18. grubfather

very short and stubby arms that can’t exactly hug you, but he’s very squishy and pleasant to squeeze.

#17. bardoon

it’s a little difficult to hug someone so big, but he appreciates the effort! his very big yet stubby arms will pull you in, and it’s like hugging an enormous pillow.

#16. relic seeker lemm

he’s reluctant and suspicious about it, probably worried that this is a ploy to steal his stuff. but once he agrees to it, it’s a pretty good hug! his beard is soft and lovely and he’ll give you an awkward pat on the back.

#15. hornet

part of what’s great about hugging hornet is that it’s an achievement. it’s very hard to hug hornet. she’s very fast and antisocial and will turn her nose up at any sign of casual affection. that said, if you earn her trust enough to get a hug from her, her muscles will relax in a way they haven’t for a very long time. the hug is quick, just a few moments, but long enough for you to catch how she sags with relief after not being hugged for many years.

#14. grey mourner

she’s wreathed in soft, flowing silks, and her hug is very gentle. maybe a little too gentle, but it’s very nice nonetheless. she might weep softly, and then you might weep too, and you’ll cry together, shrouded in silvery silks, and she appreciates this one bit of physical affection she hasn’t had since her fiance died.

#13. iselda

she laughs and easily agrees to give you a hug. she’s tall, and has to lean down so you can wrap your arms around her neck. it’s a gentle hug, and she ends it by giving you a pat on the head.

#12. sly

very small little grandpa. pick him up like a teddy bear!

#11. myla

also very small, but is much more enthusiastic about the hug. she has such a sweet giggle. you cry a little. maybe you can save her this time.

#10. cornifer

he’s a little distracted so he won’t see your request at first, but he’ll gladly give you a hug! it’s a perfect hug, not too tight, not too long.

#9. nymm

puts down his accordian and goes down on one knee to give you a warm, friendly hug. your face gets buried in his ruff. he’s happy, and you know that you did the right thing.

#8. bretta

she’s a little flustered and nervous about it, but the hug she gives you is warm and squishy and lovely. she blushes, and perhaps it lasts too long, but it’s such a nice hug that you don’t care.

#7. sheo

he squeezes you tightly, and it’s a lovely hug, but once he steps away you realize there you’re covered in paint stains! what a mess.

#6. old stag

also can’t hug you back, but he’s very grateful for the attempt. you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, and he’s so fluffy you can’t help but stroke his fur.

#5. nailsmith

winner of the beard award! best beard! he’ll gladly give you a hug, thanking you for not killing him. he’s a lot happier than he used to be, and you’re happy for him.

#4. elderbug

a perfect old grandpa hug. he tears up a little at the offer, and squeezes you tightly. rubs circles into your back. you’re a little sad when it’s over.

#3. seer

a perfect old grandma hug. she’s soft and feathery, and smells like dust, but it’s such a lovely hug.

#2. quirrel

look, i just really like quirrel. he picks you up and squeezes you tightly, and it’s like seeing an old friend you haven’t spoken to in a while. he laughs joyfully. you don’t want to let him go. maybe you can make this moment last forever. maybe he won’t leave.

#1. mato

possibly the best hugger there has ever been. he enjoys it more than he enjoys nailfighting. he picks you up, swings you around one time, and squeezes you tightly, your face squishing against his cheek. he laughs like he hasn’t hugged you in years, but you saw him earlier today.