#“Soy Sauce” drug

[theamazingstories]

RETRO REVIEW - JOHN DIES AT THE END and Other Stuff (SPOILERS)

Figure 1 – John (Rob Mayes) and David (Chase Williamson) There are so many genre (and near-genre) movies coming out every year that it’s easy to miss a good one. That’s my excuse for missing 2013’s John Dies at the End, from a book by Jason Pargin writing as David Wong. Pargin/Wong also wrote the screenplay with director Don Coscarelli. Anyway, I missed it, and I think it might end up being one…

[sxfterhearts]

neighbourly visits

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ idol!jiung x non-idol!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff inspired by recent events, childhood-neighbours!au

♡ word count: 2,422 words

♡ author’s note: ah choi jiung i wish you only good things. >_< i hope you get better soon and no longer feel any pain... i'm sure it was hard for you to stop activities, but i hope you take the time to rest and relax!!! i have not known you for long, but i want to know you for a long time ♡ also pics cred to the lovely tumblr owners!!!

♡ sequel: backstage visits

//

“Hey stranger,” You called out from behind the sliding door that was left ajar, your head peeking through the gap to peer inside the hospital room.

“Hey yourself.” Jiung replied with a light chuckle.

You walked in. Walls covered in flowery 90’s wallpaper greeted you warmly, along with a mounted television playing news silently in the background, a small sofa and coffee table set in the corner and a large window with views of skyscrapers dotted along the side of the Han River. And of course, a single hospital bed with your ex-neighbour-turned-idol lying right on top of it.

“It’s a nice room.” You commented, curious eyes scanning your surroundings.

He scoffed. “Yeah, except now there’s a stain at the bottom of the walls from yesterday.” Jiung admitted sheepishly, hands coming up to rub the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

“Ah…” You trailed off, setting down the two plastic bags you brought with you on his overbed table. “From when you flooded the bathroom?” You questioned, gentle and careful, nose scrunching up adorably.

“Don’t remind me…” He looked away. “I was so embarrassed! Oh my goodness… The head nurse laughed right in my face! I mean, it sounds like she thought it was funny, but I felt so bad.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, plus, who doesn’t like Krispy Kreme donuts?” “I hope so…”

“Anyways, I brought the goods, like you asked.” Your eyebrows cocked towards the bags, while you dragged a fold-up chair closer to his bedside.

Jiung’s eyes lit up at the mention of this. “You did?”

“Of course, who do you think I am?” You laughed, fingers moving to unpack the food. “Half and half wings, gold king and bburinkle flavoured, one pack of bburinkle cheese balls, and a large tteokbokki.” As you announced the order, you brought out the takeaway boxes one by one – soy sauce, sweet honey and garlic flavoured, then cheese powder flavoured wings; the mozzarella cheese balls that you both enjoyed and the large container filled with spicy rice cakes. “Oh, and Cass beer!”

“Y/N…” Jiung uttered, his mouth quickly salivating at the mention of his favourite meal: chicken and beer. “Are you an angel?”

You laughed out loud, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. You turned around, heading to the adjoined bathroom, hoping to hide your flustered expression. Too late, though, Jiung thought that shade of pink looked the cutest on you. “I think you’re just hallucinating from all the drugs they’ve put you under.” You replied. 

“I have been dreaming about this meal since I got admitted last week. You’re really saving my life, neighbour.” Jiung breathed out, still amazed at the generous spread of food. 

As you walked out, you saw Jiung swinging his legs to the edge of the bed. “Woah, hold on soldier, where do you think you’re going?”

He stopped, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “To wash my hands.”

“No need for that. Sit down and rest – doctor’s orders, remember?” You reached into your handbag and pulled out a hand sanitiser, passing it over to him. “Use this instead. Plus, it’s BHC. They’re professionals. There’s gloves.”

At that, Jiung rolled his eyes at you. “I’m fine,” He drawled out, yet accepting your offer and sanitising his hands. “It’s not like I’m severely injured or anything.”

You gave him a pointed look, fully sceptical. “Right.” 

“I’m serious!”

“A ruptured thigh muscle, Jiung. You ruptured your thigh muscle.” You deadpanned, your motherly instincts firing up. “That’s a big deal! Just sit down and eat your chicken, okay?”

“Fine…” He grumbled, pouting as he pulled on his gloves. 

“So, how are you feeling about it?”

“About the leg? It’s fine. Honestly, it doesn’t even hurt that much.” Jiung paused to take a bite of the cheese ball, eyes closing in pure bliss as he did so. “So good. This always hits.”

“Okay, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean?”

You sighed, reaching for a can of beer and opening it for him. “You know what I mean…”

He accepted it, taking a big gulp as he thought through his response. “It’s… fine.” Jiung looked down, suddenly taking a lot of interest in the box of fried chicken in front of him.

“Are you really okay? You were preparing for such a long time. Your mum even told me that you were practising non-stop, even on Seollal, and most of Christmas through to New Years. She said she could only send you banchan this year and was really sad about not seeing you back home.”

“Hey,” He looked up. “Are you here to visit your sick neighbour or to guilt trip him for not visiting his family?” Jiung said before biting into a bburinkle flavoured wing.

“Firstly, ex-neighbour. You moved out years and years ago. Secondly, I’m not trying to guilt trip you. I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, why do you care if you’re just my ex-neighbour?” Jiung countered in a quiet voice.

“That’s not what I - ” You stopped, sighing. “Okay, we both know you’re not just my ex-neighbour.”

“What am I then?” He looked you straight  in the eye.

The two of you engaged in a tense staring contest before the eye contact and the intensity behind his lids freaked you out. “My… My friend, okay? Geez, that’s not the point. Stop deflecting, Choi Jiung. I’ve known you for over a decade and you’re still the same. Always trying to avoid talking about your feelings.” You huffed, passing a pair of chopsticks to him and sliding over the container of tteokbokki. 

Jiung nodded his thanks, accepting the cutlery and digging in.

Silence ensued as the words hung over the pair of you. You ate quietly while Jiung slurped up his rice cakes like a starved man. He set down his chopsticks once he took a big bite, sighing. “Okay, fine. You got me. I’m not okay.”

“See! Jiung, you have to talk about your feelings.” You stopped, hands coming up to make vague gestures in the air to emphasise your point. “It’s important! You can’t just keep everything inside. Like,” You picked up a can of unopened beer. “Like this. If you keep it bottled inside and shake it too much, it’ll explode completely and make a mess. Please, just talk to me about it. How are you feeling, Choi Jiung?”

He grimaced internally at the use of his full name, the name his mother would use whenever she got mad at him. “Yeah, I’m not okay. I’m so not okay, Y/N.” He sighed again. At this point, you grew slightly concerned that he would then hurt his nostrils from heavy sighing. You shook the silly thought away to focus. “I’m not okay, because, you know what, yeah. You’re right. We have been practising for so long, and so hard. And I was so excited, and had so many sleepless nights trying to figure out how to do my solo, and what lyrics would go well for the song, and how to set up the stages, and what outfits would go together, and, and…” He took a deep breath to calm himself. Jiung could feel his eyes heat up and the corner of his lids prickling, tears beginning to gather slowly but surely. “And for all that to be taken away from me, it just feels so, so unfair.” His voice sounded so small and vulnerable, your heart cracked a little bit for him. A stray tear escaped, rolling down his cheeks.

Immediately, you use the ends of your sleeves to dab away at his tears. Nodding, you encouraged him to go on.

“And… And I really wanted to visit Japan. Shota was gonna bring us to all these places, we were gonna have dinner with his family, and I was really looking forward to being back in America. I really wanted to walk around LA again, and see the huge trees, and…” Jiung paused again, trying to compose himself. “And I’m just really sad I can’t see the fans. I feel so bad, like I let them down, and I know that for some of them this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing to see us and I let them down and - ”

You didn’t allow him to continue - you simply stood up from your seat and sat next to him on the bed, enveloping him in a hug. “And that’s enough, I’m not gonna let you continue talking down to yourself like that.” You said in a hushed voice. You weren’t too sure why you were whispering, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Jiung shut up promptly, closing his wet eyes, and burying his face in your sweater. He breathed in your scent, a mixture of your fabric softener and jasmine, and felt at ease. He was transported back to simpler times - growing up in a high-rise apartment in the outskirts of Seoul, catching cicadas by the stream next to your house, and running around the parks until the sun went down.

You stayed like this for awhile, and it was like time stopped for you. You could barely breathe from how close you were to Jiung, someone you had admired for a long time now - initially from up close, close enough to count the eyelashes on his pretty face. And now from afar, through a screen. Initially, you wrapped him in a hug to stop him from talking about how he let his fans down, but now, you were just enjoying his warmth. Jiung hugged you back tighter, and you could feel the ends of his orange hair tickling your neck.

It was Jiung who broke the silence. “You feel the same - smell the same, even.” He mumbled, lips too close to your skin for you to maintain a healthy heartbeat.

“Yeah, well…” You hated yourself for pulling away, but you had to do it to check up on him; make sure he was okay.  “Moving out to the big city made me crave familiarity. So I had to ask Mum to send me a picture of the softener she used for our clothes when we were growing up.”

Jiung smiled at that. “That’s nice.”  He liked the idea of you calling your mum about something as simple as laundry. Often, he felt like his calls back home were the opposite of mundane - his mother would ask him where he was flying to that weekend; he would reply with the destination and tell her that he was working on a few new songs. She would tell him to eat well and not sleep too late; he would reply in the affirmative, hiding the fact that most of the time they were recording in the wee hours of the morning. It seemed like you were worlds apart. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel more than grateful to have a friend like you in his life to keep him grounded. Someone from his previous life, as a child, before he was P1Harmony’s Jiung - when he was just himself, just plain old Choi Jiung. A boy from Anyang. A boy with big dreams. Just a regular boy.

“Also, I’m sure your fans understand. And they’d want you to rest! Trust me,” You paused, “Everyone on SNS has been commenting to wish you a speedy recovery but also saying that this is a great opportunity for you to get some well-deserved rest. You guys never seem to rest these days. A comeback and a tour? You must’ve been so busy..”

Jiung laughed, amused. “You read the fan comments?”

“What? Of course! Why are you surprised?”

“Wow…” Jiung replied. “You know, we kinda lost contact when we were in high school but when you reached out again a few years ago I really did think it was because you suddenly missed me. Now I know why…”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you reach out because you were a fan? I always believed your story - I thought it really was because you bumped into my mum back in Anyang and she passed you my new number.”

“I mean…” You fumbled. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. “That happened! I swear!”

“But…?”

“No buts! That is definitely what happened.”

“Right… So who’s your P1Harmony bias? Tell me.” Jiung teased, lips curling into a cheeky grin. He passed you the beer, urging you to drink. “Drink up and tell me. Don’t worry, I can set you up with them. Just tell me.”

You took a huge gulp as you whacked him on the arm.

“Hey! That hurt!”

“You deserved it.” You mumbled.

“So, who is it?” Jiung still wouldn’t let it go. 

“You don’t need to know.” The tips of your ears were warming up now. You distracted yourself by munching on some wings, hoping he would just drop the topic already.

“C’mon, I deserve to know, at least.”

Just then, your phone, which was on top of the table, lit up with a Kakao notification. Your eyes widened in alarm, suddenly remembering that you had just recently changed your wallpaper to a (very cute) photo of Jiung from their most recent music video. With your clean hand, you reached over to grab it before Jiung could see it.

But alas, you were too slow. “Oh…” Jiung mused, getting all cocky. “I get it now.”

“What do you get? There’s nothing to get.” You forced out a laugh, flipping your phone the other way and burying it under your seat.

“Y/N…” Jiung drawled out the syllabus of your name in a teasing yet slightly dangerous way, as if he had an evil master plan. “Tell me something, and be honest.”

“Nope, I refuse.” You said, shaking your head vigorously.

“Do you like me?”

You continued shaking your head no and chewing in silence.

“Be honest, I’m not gonna judge you. Am I your bias?”

“Shut up, I refuse to answer.”

“Ah, so I am right.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“You didn’t have to say it, Y/N. I can tell… Just admit it. You like me.”

“No! This is so embarrassing…”

//

{ epilogue }

The nurses filling out their charts at the station giggled and gossiped over their dinners. 

“So, what do you think is gonna happen?”

“Gosh, watching them is so frustrating. Like, just confess already!”

“I know right! I almost want to do something about it. Like slip them a note or push them into each other or something.”

“Ah, the beauty of young love…”

[knitmeapony]

Fake blood recipes

Hey fronds -- I've been meaning for years to put together my recipe book for all the kinds of make-it-in-the-kitchen fake blood that I have tweaked/perfected over the years.

For LARPers, theater nerds, prop makers, etc -- all using things that 1) you can buy in most standard grocery stores or 'health food' stores with maybe one exception 2) you can buy year-round 3) are generally safe to handle (ymmv with allergies, kids, pets, etc, but in general nothing toxic)

yes, SFX makeup is pretty freely obtainable these days, but there's something nice about the DIY and the quick and easy

So just off the top of my head I can write about the following -- any questions I might be missing? Any strong opinions?

(stick the word 'fake' in front of blood for all these):

Materials:

standard corn syrup blood

honey and other syrup bloods for people with sensitivities to corn

blood that drinks well (using thickener, etc) even over several hours

blood that tastes good (cocktail garnishes, maybe some straight up cocktail and mocktail recipes)

blood that's not sweet (most are somehow sugar-syrup based, but there are vegetable juice based bloods that won't make your teeth ache)

Colors:

blood isn't plain red -- good dye balances to use

allergy friendly food dyes

Examples of matchable color swatches of real blood in medical settings, spilled, dried, etc. -- clipped as pure color swatches so you don't have to have possibly uncomfortable pictures lying around

examples of blood variations (blood banks separate red cells from plasma for instance)

making 'other blood' -- edible ways of making green, blue, and glowing blood

Problems to solve:

blood that flows vs blood that dries nicely (the actual material)

blood that looks new/wet even when the material is dry

blood that looks old/dry/scabbed but is still comfortable to touch or wear

Permanent staining blood (for costumes, art projects etc) vs washable blood (for LARPs or stunts at halloween)

Blood that is thin and writes and sprays smoothly (I start with soy sauce, usually); recommended dip pens and brushes

Blood that makes good fingerprints and other shapes

Make your own blood capsules (mouth friendly and otherwise)

Maybe with an extra index on how to make blisters, bubos, and such just with things you can buy at your local drug store.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Family Affair

Chapter 4

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite! Thank you

Summary: Harlan's money ruled the world of your husband and in-laws. When Harlan cuts his family off the rift between siblings grows larger and you are somehow caught in the middle.

Warning: Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead. Slow Burn

Dark Ari x Reader, Dark Ransom x Reader (Pregnant reader)

❄️

Ransom's home

You sit at the kitchen table, staring at the white foam containers filled with takeout. The mingling aromas of greasy takeout—soy sauce, fried onions, and something faintly sweet—turn your stomach. The nausea creeps in, not entirely from the smell but from everything weighing on you.

Twins. The news should have been joyous. You wanted to be happy—really, you did—but the thought of becoming a mother was quickly overshadowed by the fear that, with Ari constantly abroad, you’d be doing it alone.

“What’s wrong?” Ransom asks, popping a piece of fried calamari into his mouth. You didn’t know what to say. What could you say to the man who wore your husband’s face—but that’s where the similarities ended.

Ransom didn’t care about you, you knew it. Why he brought you here to his extravagant abode, you weren’t entirely sure. More than likely, it was just another way to spite Ari, in a game you weren’t privy to.

“I’ve eaten. Now can you take me home.” You say ignoring his question. Looking up from your plate to meet his gaze.

“Why? We need to celebrate. Twins!” His tone turns almost playful as he strides into the open kitchen. You watch as he pours two glasses of wine, the liquid catching the light as it swirls into the glasses. “Shouldn’t be much of a surprise, all things considered.”

You frown as he approaches, one glass extended toward you. Your eyes linger on it before meeting his again. He chuckles softly at your silent refusal and, with a shrug, pulls it back. Taking a lazy sip before switching to the other glass as Ransom settles into the chair across from you.

It was already snowing when he brought you here, and the thought of braving the icy roads with him at the wheel drunk—sent a cold wave of apprehension through you. But you needed to go home and come to terms with what your life will be now.

You sigh heavily, breaking the tense silence as you rise from the table. Carefully maneuvering your belly to avoid the edge, you steady yourself, ignoring his low snicker. Slinging your purse over your shoulder, you meet his unbothered gaze as he takes another sip.

“If you won’t take me home, I’ll just catch the bus.”

"So still not my brother?" Ransom leans back, a smirk curling his lips, his tone laced with mockery.

The question leaves you silent, anger simmering beneath the surface. But you swallow it down. He wants a reaction, but you refuse.

“Calm down and come sit back down. You’re not going anywhere,” he calls after you. Mindlessly, you rub your stomach—a thoughtless act to soothe your fraying nerves—while your other hand inches toward the door. “There’s ten inches of snow out there now. You’ll freeze to death… think of the babies.”

You stop, his words rooting you to the spot. He’s right, and you hate it. The storm has trapped you here, at least until morning.

“If you’d just told me what you wanted to eat, you’d be home by now. But no—you had to be a stubborn brat. I can see why Ari can’t stand to be around you.”

His words land like a slap. Your thoughts drift to the photos that had landed on your doorstep as your hand lingers on the doorknob. Sure, partying on a boat with models and drugs didn’t prove infidelity, but it was hard to ignore what they implied.

And now, all the unanswered calls sting even more with him back in the same time zone. He’s spent more nights at Harlan’s than at home. Hell, you’ve seen Ransom more than your own husband. Despite being heavily pregnant, you feel like an afterthought—if you’re even a thought at all. Did Ari truly hate being around you? Could everyone see it but you? And yet, if he despised you so much, why had he fought so hard against the divorce?

❄️

Harlan's home

The bay window cast a golden glow across the room, silhouetting Harlan’s back. The grand oak desk between Ari and Harlan a chaos of scattered notes and loose papers, no doubt seeds of inspiration for his next novel. The towering shelves of books wallpapered the room, their leather-bound spines exuding a faint, earthy scent that mingled with the smoky aroma of pipe tobacco—an indulgence Harlan wasn’t supposed to have given his last doctor’s opinion.

Harlan leans forward, his fingers laced, his sharp gaze fixed on Ari. The conversation followed the same pattern as the others before him—reasoning one day, negotiations the next, and, when all else failed pleases. Each attempt a new strategy to sway the old man from closing his wallet to the family.

When Harlan tossed the folder onto the desk, the room seemed to fill the air with a heavy tension. Ari hesitated before reaching for it, his fingers brushing the edge of the paper as if it might bite.

Unlike the others, whose greed clung to them like smoke, Ari had seemed above it, his pursuits noble. Every check had a purpose for either clean water initiatives, school funds, relief efforts. But now, the folder’s contents lay between them like a knife, its blade gleaming with betrayal.

“I don’t know where you got this information from, but it’s not true,” Ari says, his voice calm but tight. He scans the pages, his unease deepening with every highlighted discrepancy. The accusations damning.

“I want to believe you, Ari, but unless you can prove otherwise, I won’t reverse my decision,” Harlan states firmly, leaning back with an air of boredom. His gaze drifts to his pipe, as though it holds more interest than the conversation.

"I'm tired of this. Day after day of the same old topic. money. Let’s talk about something else. How’s your wife? She mentioned waiting to find out the baby’s sex when you got back. So, do you know?”

“She’s there now. I’ll call her later and ask,” Ari murmurs distractedly, not looking up.

“So you’re staying here again tonight? That’s a shame. Your first child, and you’ve barely left this house since you got back into the country”

“She understands,” Ari responds flatly , flipping another page.

Harlan nodded slowly, lighting his pipe with a flick of the match. The flame lit his face for a moment before vanishing into a curl of smoke.

“She understands, does she? That’s interesting. Quite surprising, actually, given her reaction after our last conversation. I’d have thought that would’ve been the first thing you mentioned—not money.”

Ari’s hand stills on the paper, his brow arching in suspicion. “You talked to her? About what?”

“I’ve requested paternity of the child.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint crackle of the pipe. Ari’s gaze lifted slowly, disbelief hardening into something colder, sharper.

“What?”

Harlan leaned back, the creak of the old leather chair breaking the tense silence. “You’re overseas more than half the year. Are you certain the timeline adds up?”

Ari’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the folder. It took him a moment to steady his voice. “You're crossing a line old man. She’s my wife,” he said firmly, his tone edged with anger.

“That may be so,” Harlan says, exhaling another plume of smoke, “but unless proven, is that your child?”

❄️

Ransom's home

You stare out the guest room window as your breath fogs the pane. Beyond the frosted glass, the world is muted in white, the snow showed no sign of stopping, its relentless fall thickening with each passing hour.

Your hand drifts to your belly, tracing slow, soothing circles over the taut skin. The takeout food not sitting well with the twins as they kick inside protesting your poor choice. You close your eyes and exhale, the stress of the day lingering in the air, clinging to you like smoke.

"You can sleep in this," Ransom offers, tossing a garment on top of the bed beside you. "Or not," he adds with a shrug, already halfway out the door. You glance at the offering and grimace. It’s his sweater and a pair of socks—but in your current state you doubt you could fit much else of his.

You turn to face him, your hands still trying to calm the chaos in your belly. He leans against the doorway, the hall light casting shadows over his face. Even in the dimness, you can feel his gaze trailing over you.

“Thank you.”

The words come out tired, weak. Any fight you had left is long gone. You’re stuck here.

“Are you still hungry? Are the twins okay?” he asks, pushing off the doorway. There’s concern in his voice, and it’s… odd. It feels like a trap, the setup for an elaborate rug pull, and you can’t help but tense at it.

“I’m okay. Just tired,” you reply, taking the sweater and folding it over your arm. You wish he’d leave, give you some space. Since his unexpected appearance at your doctor’s appointment, you hadn’t managed more than a minute or two alone.

“Alright, fine. " Ransom says, seemingly backing off. "There are fresh towels in the guest bathroom—help yourself to anything in there. But don’t get any bright ideas about wandering around. I’d hate to have to start taking inventory.”

You give a tired nod, barely acknowledging yet another dig. He says nothing else, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving the room without another word. He doesn’t bother closing the door behind him. With a sigh, you wobble over, your feet aching with each step, and nudge it shut. The game Ransom was playing you hope will end by the morning.

You don’t take him up on his offer. Instead, you start changing out of your clothes. Your bra comes off first, folded neatly alongside your shirt—but the pants are another story.

Tugging at the waistband, your belly turns it into a stubborn battle. Frustration bubbles up, and with a sigh, you fall backwards onto the mattress. The soft surface cradles you like a cloud. Its hold almost making you give up in defeat.

With a few more wriggles attempts, the pants finally give in, sliding free. The ease of pressure a relief to your aching belly. You indulge in the feel of the duvet a bit longer on your bare skin. You’d never felt anything so soft and a part of you wanted it to swallow you whole and take you away from it all.

The stress of your marriage and the babies lingers at the edge of your thoughts. If you divorced Ari, would anything really change? You’ve managed on your own before, but with the responsibility of the babies… could you handle it?

The biting chill of cold pulls you from your thoughts. With a huff you push up and pull over the sweater. It feels softer than anything you’ve ever felt. Its fibers cling around your belly like a soft hug, far more comfy than the itchy ones you have in your closet. It should be a sin to feel this good.

Your eyes close as you savor the feel of the sweater and duvet, their softness easing the weight of stress pressing down on you. The foreign room begins to lose its strangeness as sleep starts to take hold.

The sudden creak of the door jolts you awake, your heart leaping as your brother-in-law strides in without warning.

Scrambling, you clutch the duvet, yanking it awkwardly over your lower half in a haze of half-sleep. He scoffs as he approaches. The sharp scent of something sweet drifts toward you, carried by the steam rising from the mug in his hands.

“Don’t stretch out my sweater,” he quips, the smirk tugging at his lips making the jab feel sharper. “I doubt you have the funds to replace it.”

You watch wordlessly as he sets a coaster on the nightstand and then places the mug down. The smell grows more enticing the closer it gets. You peer over at the sight of melting marshmallows floating in the rich, chocolatey liquid calls to you. You should feel full after the amount of food you eventually devoured, but now you find yourself wanting more.

“Thought this might help settle the terror twins in your belly,” he suggests nonchalantly, flopping down on the mattress beside you. “Ma said it always worked for her when she was carrying me and Ari.”

You look between him and the drink, still a bit suspicious. He’s never been this nice to you—it wasn’t in his nature.

“Thank you,” you say, your tone wary as his eyes linger on you. The warmth from the mug seeps into your hands as you cup it, inhaling the sweet scent.

As you lean over to grab the mug, the duvet slips slightly, exposing your feet to the cool air. You glance at him and catch his gaze drifting down, his eyes lingering briefly on your feet. Slowly, you pull them back under the covers.

Your eyes widen as his hand shoots out, catching one before you can retreat. The heat of embarrassment floods your body as you try to tug your foot back, but his grip holds firm.

“Stop moving, or you’ll spill it,” he chides, nodding toward the mug in your hands. You glance down, realizing how precariously it sways with your movements, and you freeze.

You wince as his thumb presses into the ball of your foot, but the sting is fleeting. The ache subsides with the pressure, and you feel yourself sinking back into the pillow, your resistance waning as he kneads the swell of your foot with both hands.

It feels surreal, like you’ve stumbled into the twilight zone. This was everything you’d wished Ari would do for you—be there, show care.

“Can you at least tell me why?” you finally ask still very suspicious. “You’ve tormented me all day, and for what? It’s not to make Ari jealous. I doubt he even knows—or cares—where I am right now.”

He chuckles softly at your conclusion, the sound low and almost teasing. “Do you remember the old man’s wedding?”

Your brow arches at the sudden change in topic. “Yeah, why?”

A smirk tugs at his lips. “Do you remember how much fun we had, though?”

You scoff still gripping the mug its warmth steadying you. “You barely said two words to me that day. What are you talking about?”

He nods, his hands still kneading your foot with surprising tenderness. “I bet if you think long and hard, you’ll remember we had a pretty fun time.”

A chill creeps over you as fragments of that day resurface in your mind. Your body tenses, and your blood runs cold. You blink at him, trying to read his expression, but his back remains turned. The taut fabric of his shirt strains against his muscles as he shifts slightly.

He’s joking. Teasing. He wants you to react just so he can pull the rug out from under you—but there’s something in his tone that doesn’t feel like a joke.

❄️

[pandoras-box-of-roses]

Pandora Rosier (˘▽˘❁)

Hello people! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

❀˖° she/they

❀˖° Pansexual

❀˖° House of Persephone

❀˖° Ravenclaw

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

｡𖦹°‧ Things I like:

Pretty rocks, watching people, cats, drinking soy sauce, flowers + other stuff you'll see here

｡𖦹°‧ Things I don't like

People being jerks to others who are minding their business and not harming anyone. Disrespectfully, get outta here 🗡️

My people + other people I watch:

@evanofthedead Evan, my bro :D <3

@barty-not-barry-official Bartyy <3

@shrineoftheprophetess Sybill, somebody who matches my freak 🥹

@a-mist-covered-star Reg ⋆

@0-all-is-fair-in-love-and-war-0 Dorcas!!

@dreaming-and-drugs Xeno 🌿

@hexes-and-hestia Hestiaaaa 🪻

@al1-f0rtescue Alice, my sis 🫂

@flower-of-athens Lily ❀

@swearwolf-lupin Remus ☾

@blackrosedeity Sirius ★

@j-potteringaround James 👓

@pete-the-thief Peter 🪱

@motherfuckin-marls Marlene 🏈

@littlelambismybestie Mary 🐏

@elegance-and-romance Narcissa ✿

@welltobefrank Frank 𐙚

@sepia-vance Emmiline ✨

@psychoblack Bellatrix 𖤐

@followthegossip Rita Skeeter ̤̮

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

My main blog is @averageambivert, see you around!

[shienn-sao-rean]

My drifter profile

Birth Name: Shienn Sao-Rean

Titles: Drifter, Stardust, Brother, Space trauma

Nicknames: Eagle, Shi, Babe (thx to Quincy), Hey you redhead freak!

Sex/Gender: Male, but he is... explorative.

Birth World: Earth, Kyoto

Home World: Earth

Current Residence: Höllvania

Birthday: 8 May

Height: 195 cm

Weight: 92

Eye Shape and Colour: Deep set, chrome diopside or grass green, not emerald, warm shades with radioactive-like glowing.

Skin Texture and Colour: freckled, even if it is practically invisible, black, but his face features are more close to half-Japanese, half-Italian. Thin, unlike his father, most of his weight is bones. A lot of scars, but thank gods, most of the scars from Duviri did not survive constant time looping. However, he has a lot of scars from New War, cross chest by archon Amar, two bites from Nira, left forearm and hip. A lot of cuts and scratches from survival around Ostron colonies. Also have some small tattoos, mostly words, names.

Hairstyle and Colour: Shaved sides, Carrot-like orange with intensive greying, almost always braided.

Style/Fashion: 

casual wear:

Natural fabric, not super tight, not too loose, he gladly adopted 1999 fashion, mostly in gothic style. Black and green, as his signature. Has troubles with all clothes that are too tight around the neck, so he cut collars off all his T-shirts and never zips up a hoodie or jacket all the way.

battle fit: Classic Dax armour + Dax syandana + Feldune waist + some attachments like Protovyre and Riv.

Age: He was 15 when Zariman got stuck, he never counted ever since, but looks somewhat around 35-40.

Personality Traits: Diplomatic, honest to the point of bluntness, reckless (but usually it pays off), flirty literally with everyone, probably completely insane (like Cpt. Murdock from the A-Team remake 2010), often behaves like a clown who amuses everyone while being completely broken inside, because he is really space-trauma, protective and caring in his special way, ex - drug and alcohol addict (now clean for 1,5 years), still a sex-addict, tho. Gambler, local cuisine enjoyer, superb at survival.

Likes: fresh fish with rice and soy sauce, good tea, smoking, cooking, his co-drifter, Aidan (his partner since Zariman), Komi, Teshin, silk, Quincy, music, dancing, especially traditional with fans.

Dislikes: prejudice, orokin in general, Ballas personally, hunger, stupid people, manipulations.

Pet Peeves: Texture of Zariman food. And some foods still, like any fat outside bacon.

Habits: Smoking is one of the obvious. He also starts humming or even singing when listening to a song he likes. If he is comfortable enough, he's dancing, but mostly if no one sees him.

Morals: Very ethically ambiguous. Can kill someone if they behave like shit, because this is the easiest solution. Can steal, but not from those who are also in need. Long story short - "Eat the rich" can be his motto. But he never refuses to help for the people who need it. Vengeful, will gladly participate in orokin genocide if the possibility presents itself, especially for all this shit that Orokin ever did to Dax or people like his mum.

Phobias: seeing people he loves die or get hurt, spiders, creatures and seaweed in the water that suddenly touch him while he swims.

Pros: Protective, funny, generally loving person with huge amount of patience. Really awesome cook, food is one of his love languages. He really knows a lot about the Japanese traditions of his time, a lot of stories. Knows how to calm, comfort people.

Cons: ex-addict who could relapse at any moment of critical mental instability. Hard to be shaken off. If someone reaches his boiling point (which is hard) speaks his mind with no concern about reaction or feelings, especially to someone he cares about. From time to time too direct, rude even. Swears a lot. Really a lot. In multiple languages, often at the same time. Now in a few more!

Personal Glories: don't tell Arthur right away on which exact axis he spins all of his threats, and that he sleeps with someone who behaves exactly like Arthur. And he knows very well how to make Arthur's life miserable with one sentence in front of Quincy and Amir. Because he noticed all "things" in Arthur's behaviour from the first look.

Personal Trauma: Survivor's guilt. Loss of a twin brother because of a stupid argument.

Powers: Operator void stuff that he keeps forgetting about, time-looping, attempt of using void tongue filling words with power. So far - so good. Specific Dax ways of using the inner energy. (Some witchcraft, if you'd like I can share my Dax head canon.)

Abilities: Melee, mostly Teshin's daishō + Dax armour require special training to effectively wear it, not the worst bowman and shooter, but prefers good ol' sword fight. Void stuff, time-stuff, some traditional Dax witchcraft.

Weapons: Sun and Moon, Sirocco, Nataruk.

Combat Affinity: From flexibility to classic Unairu endurance. Recklessness, inclined to protect others before himself.

Warframes of choice: Kullervo, Cyte-09, Koumei, Mirage Prime, Dagath, Baruuk Prime.

Social Skills: Friendly, but from time to time too flirty. Struggles with understanding some concepts like grief. He cannot process grief, doesn't show "proper emotions" and people think that he is a heartless jerk. His only one coping mechanism before he saw Quincy the first time was drugs and alcohol.

~Relationships~

Lovers: Aidan Hirayoshi, Fenris (his fellow drifters now), Quincy, Amir.

Family:

Parents: Rissa Rean and Hondo Sao, Rissa was a geiko, Hondo - a descendant of noble Dax family. (So, posh)

Grandparents (known and remembered well): Sheina Rean (yes, he was named after her, granny from mum's side), Katsui Sao (father's father)

Twin brother, Satori (yes, it's also not a real name.)

Eimhear, Aidan's sister, who is also like a sister to Shienn.

Kahl and the guys are super close friends.

Friends:

Aoi: He understands her deeply, especially since he realized about their relationships with Arthur. (He wanted to punch His Maj in the face for it, but Quincy was first.) They share tea and music.

Eleanor: She reminds him of one man, from a long forgotten story. Theatrical, deep, fragile. He cherishes her, and makes her feel seen.

Lettie: One of his favourites, really. They became friends super fast. They often speak about death and scare everyone around.

Arthur: He reminds Shienn of Aidan, so they became friends quickly. And now they constantly share some recipes and other cooking stuff as well as sword fight. By brute force - Arthur wins, but technique... This is Shienn field of expertise after all this Teshin's and Umbra's lessons.

Amir and Quincy: For Shienn it was from first look with Quincy, but Amir was close nonetheless. He understood that he can't choose, they both are absolutely his type, even since they are like a cat and a dog. So, he decided to tell Quincy first-hand that he is polyamorous, and he also likes Amir. Surprisingly, Quincy agreed. So, they have their triple cuddles now, and when they come to Shienn and Aidan's old camp, they have even more cuddles. Quincy seemingly has no interest in Aidan and Fenris, but Amir is still a wildcard.

Teshin: Deep trust, even deeper respect. He is a mentor Shienn was supposed to have one day on his Dax way, but never had. One day, Shienn will bring his new partners to Teshin.

Operator: They are like two sides of one coin. Operator Shienn is deep in his healthy way of life, meditations, training, very serious with his Unairu way, General of the Steel Meridian and clan leader. Drifter Shienn is a complete opposite. But in the roots - they are both the same, family-guys, willing to do everything to save their little world.

Ordis: His Ordis reclaimed his Ordan part, and now they are a system. And both Shienns spend a lot of time with both Ordis and Ordan.

Loid: Shienn really wishes him a better husband.

Theme Song: I have a whole playlist!

What voice I imagine him having: the only person who comes to mind is Liam Neeson.

Biography: For his bio I really need to explain our whole headcanon, so, I'll save it for separate post. Tbh, it's simply too much.

Other notes: strictly homosexual, has no physical attraction to women, but this rule didn't affect intersexual Fenris, who looks like a man, but has a vulva. Highly probable that he is AuDHD, but who cares about such things as a diagnosis in the future and especially in a super strict Dax family?

------

Character sheet courtesy of @ashandshy https://www.tumblr.com/ashandshy/772406073411960833/drifter-character-sheets-of-2025

[haveyoureadthishorrorbookpoll]

Have you read...

note: If you did not finish but feel you read enough to form an opinion, you may choose a ‘Yes’ option instead of 'Partly' (e.g., Yes, I didn’t like it). Interpret "neutral or complicated" however you like, I intended this category to be a broad option between like and dislike.

John Dies at the End is a comic lovecraftian horror novel written by Jason Pargin (aka David Wong) that was first published online as a webserial beginning in 2001, then as an edited manuscript in 2004, and a printed paperback in 2007, published by Permuted Press. STOP. You should not have touched this flyer with your bare hands. NO, don't put it down. It's too late. They're watching you. My name is David Wong. My best friend is John. Those names are fake. You might want to change yours. You may not want to know about the things you'll read on these pages, about the sauce, about Korrok, about the invasion, and the future. But it's too late. You touched the book. You're in the game. You're under the eye. The only defense is knowledge. You need to read this book, to the end. Even the part with the bratwurst. Why? You just have to trust me. The important thing is this: The drug is called Soy Sauce and it gives users a window into another dimension. John and I never had the chance to say no. You still do. I'm sorry to have involved you in this, I really am. But as you read about these terrible events and the very dark epoch the world is about to enter as a result, it is crucial you keep one thing in mind: None of this was my fault.

submit a horror book!

[mycoblogg]

Going off the inkcap into ink ask, apart from food and ink, what else can I do/make with fungus?

here's a little list !! :-)

with artist's conk brackets, you can use the underside for drawing as - when the flesh is scraped away - there is a brown layer underneath. when it dries & hardens the art will keep for a long time :-)

mushrooms that contain psilocybin are used as psychedelic drugs - the most potent is p. azurescens.

many different fungi can be used as dyes -

many moulds are used in food manufacturing processes, for example when making cheese or yoghurt.

you can purchase mycopesticides to control pests.

yeast is a fungus that we consume every day through beer, wine, soy sauce & bread products. :-)

that's about all i've got for you, luna !! <3

[scre-a-ming-cupcakes]

I've written this review on letterboxd for the John Dies At The End movie (didn't really like it). I thought I would post it here as well in case people wanna add or disagree with something :)

It's not the worst movie-adaption, yet it's far from good. It's not really a John Dies At The End and more of a Jeff Passes Away After The Third Act.

The acting is fine. The two mains that play John and Dave have good chemistry and play their dynamic well.

The cinematography is decent on the surface-level but for a book as crazy and trippy as this one, it’s too simple. Even the scenes where Dave is high on the soy sauce it just looks a bit too regular and average. When the sauce material has monsters, alternate universes and sentient drugs that bend time and space you have the opportunities to be creative with the camera work. Sadly that opportunity wasn’t used.

The writing: I can’t give the movie much credit because pretty much all of the scenes are word-for-word copies of scenes in the book.

Practical and visual effects: While the third act looks truly cheap and cheesy, everything that comes before that is quite good for a low budget film. While not all the creatures look like the way they were described in the book, they seemingly use practical effects for the monsters for the most part, which I adore.

Comparing it to the book, however, truly highlights all its flaws. I was expecting some of the book stuff to be cut because a 500 pages long book doesn’t fit into 90 minutes. But I was negatively surprised to find out that two thirds of the book has been cut. Two of the best thirds, to be exact. And the things we did get were focused on the wrong things. While the book is hilarious, what makes it stand out so much was the perfect balance of horror and comedy. At times you feel like crying from laughter, and then you need to take a moment to breathe after the tension. Sometimes even at the same time. The movie was pure comedy and didn’t once try to be a genuine horror story, unlike its bookish counterpart. They have cut every scene that caused genuine tension and terror.

On top of that it feels like the movie didn’t understand that the story also explores deeper themes and can get dark and serious at times. The prologue scene is the perfect example of that missing understanding. The prologue, the funny take on the ship of Theseus philosophy, is a funny way to start the book and introduce us to the writing and the humour but overall doesn’t have anything to do with the rest of the story. Except that it does, because it’s direct foreshadowing to the terrifying final plot twist. Well, the movie started the same way, with the direct adaption of the funny ship of Theseus philosophy, only that the ending doesn’t include the gut wrenching plot twist. Why? Because apparently, the book lost the film makers whenever it got slightly beyond “funny monster shenanigans”.

The dry two-dimensional characters from the movie are also very frustrating. John is the funny frat-boy and Dave is the straight guy, that much they got right. The fact that they are so much more than that, and that John has a genuinely good heart while Dave has a very dark and twisted side to him, is nowhere to be found. And how come they merge the two female main characters into one (another questionable choice), and she still doesn’t have any personality? They managed to copy every scene directly from the book and still make it a badly written story just by the choice of what to keep and what not to keep. Which is a talent in itself, considering the book got away with so much bullshit.

Overall the movie is a very cheesy b-movie with questionable pacing and unexplained lore. It’s fine if you like that kind of stuff and is definitely not the worst thing I have watched. But if you’re looking for a good adaption for the book John Dies At The End this is not it.

Would I recommend the book to someone? 100%. Would I recommend the film to someone? Only if they really like cheesy b-movies. Would I recommend the book to someone and then the movie afterwards? No.

[cloned-sheep97]

Cdn albums' vibe (sumarized)

Soy una arveja: I hate furries! Not because i think they're zoophiles... In fact, im a zooph-

Emilio García: I love torturing children!!!! *Pees on the christmas potato puree and everyone thinks is butter*

Canciones del corazón: ugh... I need a kinky femboy that doesn't have a gag reflex </3

Otra navidad en las trincheras: Straight sex, gay sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, oral sex. WE ARE THE SEX NATION

Barranca Abajo: Noooo my crush rejected me,... Its time for me to become emo *17 year old José Barrancas invoques the devil itself but then regrets becoming emo after Ñu fucking dies*

El tren bala: Rated +7 (E, everyone) for suicide, sex, drugs, political lider fucks up and gets drunk, CDN makes a pun between silk and "putting it in" (Tela va a poner ≠ Te la va a poner) grooming, hypnotization, adultery, constipation, mental distress, political corruption and people from puerto rico

Revista ¡¡Ésta!!: LOCAL MAN DISCOVERS THAT EATING DOES NOT INVOLVE FEET!!! *turns out to have the catchiest hook on all music history*

Cortamambo: Rated +18, we have a song internalized xenophobia and racism, wanting a sugar mommy, your boss is fucking the secretary and you know it, body horror relating Siamese twins, a song similar to the book Lolita except...so much worse... Santiago tavella goes on his way to cheat on multiple women, boobs in cover, stupid song about stupid horny seals. YET, we get the +18 mark because we made a song making fun on devoting more your religion than your own menta health. Yay

RARO: I- *sniff* I don't know what to do now!!! *Cries* Help me... *6 am Alarm goes off and instantly whipes out tears* Okay, gotta stop crying, its time to go to work...

Bipolar: I wish i could remove my two ribs so i could give myself a BJ, I'd deserve it for being that awesome sauce

Porfiado: *grabs the soap dispenser that was sitting next to the napkins and begins to start spraying the soap on top of the napkins* hehehehehehhe

Habla tu espejo: im such a little potato <///3. Why does everybody think im a problem? :( i mean.., i am but... I wish i wasnt</3

AZ: okay it turns out this album is not as bad as i remembered.... Although lamina once....*BARF*

Jueves: Oh your grandmother died? How cute... Try to cry about it and you're getting kicked from our sigma male club

Lamina once: Nobody understands me... Why is the world so messed up? </3 People today only look at their phones and argue with pronoun people on twitter...</3 *Paints nails, puts on blue hair dye, uses they/them prns and uses their phone like water (8 times a day)

[tamamita]

What counts as intoxicating effects vis a vie haraam? Like can you use weed for anxiety, other things like caffeine that aren't "intoxicating" but have effects on you like that? Also, if the effects of intoxication are nuetralized, is that allowed? Like can you use alcohol in cooking?

(Asking both out of curiosity and i like to make sure everyone can eat my dishes at a potluck)

Anything that clouds your mind is usually considered "intoxicating". Various drugs and alcoholic beverages fall into this category.

Nevertheless, weed is halal provided it is used for medical purposes. As for alcohol in food, as long as it's not from an alcholic beverage such as wine and beer, which are both considered ritually impure. Industrialized alcohol that is used for fermentation, such as vinegar, soy sauce and etc are halal.

[mintyisms]

The Game Grumps Play Danganronpa V3

Chapter One Starters

"I knew you could dip your balls in soy sauce. That was never a question."

"He's a brilliant man who was raised by wolves."

"I'll just ignore how ridiculous those last two statements were."

"No one can read the air; the air has no letters."

"Look at that juicy booty on [name]."

"All she did was take a shit and die."

"I know exactly how to fluff your pillows before I smother you with them."

"I'm gonna go chainsaw some fuckers."

"I saw Titanic for the first time last night, so I'm in a good mood."

"Why the fuck are we in the library?"

"That was the grossest fucking burp I've ever had in my life."

"I'm gonna go hug my pillow."

"So we're gonna kill that guy first, right?"

"I'll sign your yearbook after I'm dead."

"Shoot, how did all these Magnum condoms get here?"

"The girls bathroom isn't going to look at itself."

"Maybe everyone should wash their ass."

"The situation is actually pretty fucking far from ideal."

"I was just going to play piano and hope for the best."

"There's a lot of brooding going on in this room."

"He wanted to die anyway, right?"

"Just let me put some fucking pants on."

"I stuffed that vent full of copies of Horton Hears a Who."

"You brought tape made from ducks?"

"My parents were killed by detectives. They held their magnifying glass at the right angle and the sun fried them."

"I think it's the murderer's fault."

"I woke up with a Popsicle in my mouth."

"I'm going to have to kiss him. A lot."

"Why would any man ever come to a library?"

"I guess when you wear ill-fitting shoes your shoes are itchy."

"I was writing poetry in the Fibonacci sequence."

"I'm not very good at piloting drones, hence why my hair's all fucked up like this."

"The bear made me do it."

"He has a sculpted buttocks and beautiful lips."

"I have a feeling that like nine or ten more of our friends are still going to die."

"Can a robot love?"

"If you'll excuse me, I need to regrease my shotput ball shooter cannon."

"This simultaneously sucks and is awesome."

"Is he on drugs?"

"Maybe he was killed by a ghost."

"He found the secret washing machine."

"Do you know the combination to my heart?"

"She's so inspiring with the words she's saying that don't mean much."

"See that six pack? I've been working out."

"It's fine that you're wrong. Very wrong. Stupid and wrong."

"I was just enjoying a California roll."

"Do you know martial arts or something? Why are you always doing these poses?"

"I suggest you all update your LinkedIn profiles."

"I'm thinking of writing a self help book."

"I find it hard to believe you didn't notice she did all this."

"I'm going to make a notation of when she murdered him in my handy dandy notebook!"

"I think gravity killed him."

"I searched through the CDs, but all I could see was deez nuts."

[cartoonscientist]

look I’m not saying that drugs are some magical enlightening key to the secrets of the universe, I’m just saying that I won’t take anyone’s opinions on religion seriously if they haven’t had a psychedelic experience. it doesn’t have to be drugs, it could be a really long fever dream or a profound psychotic episode brought on by low blood sugar, you just have to have seen something else besides reality and know that it exists, if only in your mind. human religion was first developed through mushrooms, frogs, and organically occurring madness, and experiencing it removed from those factors is like eating white rice without soy sauce. it just takes away so much complex dimension.

[eyeless-jeff666]

Love Hurts (Part 2)

Yandere!Jeanist again except I prefer he didn't hurt or kill people. So he didn't lol. The Erikas are an idea I got from one of the Black Butler musicals that absolutely wrenched me free of every tear I could have possibly shed. Thanks again anon for the ask! :)

The first part has an open ending which I also liked so this isn't necessarily the only possible one :) Angst, positive ending, Yandere

It’s been weeks since Shinya had been taken away by Tsunagu. He was still tied to the bed, his limbs so numb they didn’t even hurt anymore. The blonde had been treating him nothing but well, aside from the involuntary kisses, but even those were kept short and gentle. Shinya thought that if Tsunagu had admitted something sooner, they could have even been a couple. He wouldn’t have suspected anything.

“My little fiber, I brought you rice balls. Please eat something?”

He asked; for a good reason. Shinya hadn’t accepted food in two days and was starting to be really hungry. It wasn’t that Tsunagu had drugged it again since kidnapping the Ninja hero, but it felt so wrong to accept his favorite food now. The Denim Hero sat down by the bed, holding out one of them for the younger one to take a bite. Smiling widely as he did so:

“Oh, I’m so glad. I was beginning to think you were sick. Is it good? I made it as always. Do you want soy sauce?”

“No thank you, Tsu.”

Shinya replied, calmly, as if nothing was wrong. This had worked those past weeks; it was almost scary how normal Tsunagu acted; he wasn’t forceful, wasn’t pushing him at all, always spoke with the same kindness his voice had held since the two of them had met. He seemed content with Shinya just being there, living in his own delusion of being happily married. Shinya wasn’t scared at all which allowed him to think rationally; the other heroes should come soon, probably having a very clear plan ready. Knowing Jeanist’s patterns would give them at least an idea of where the two of them might have disappeared to.

“Tsunagu? Can I ask you something?”

He asked carefully, catching the taller one’s attention:

“Of course, anything.”

“Why didn’t you confess to me? Earlier, I mean. Why did you keep this to yourself?”

It was a question asked in genuine curiosity. Why had the man let himself fall so deep into this pit of obsession and heartache?

“Oh! Oh, that’s easy. You never paid attention to me, the way you did to others.”

Hearing this hurt, but Shinya knew he was right; he had always seen Tsunagu as a friend, and seeing him flirt with others, of any gender no less, must have hurt like hell. Shinya understood that.

“Were you scared to lose me? We could have talked about it. We’ve known each other for so long.”

“I couldn’t live if I lost you, my darling.”

The denim hero replied, his voice sounding full of genuine fear and pain. He stayed silent until Shinya finished eating, then stood up, looking towards the door; like he was waiting. Of course, he knew that somebody would be coming to take away his love. To steal the medicine to a pain he couldn’t handle any longer. Shinya noticed his gaze:

“Tsu. Tsunagu, look at me.”

It was surprising to hear that, but the blonde did; his eyes shining with a strange mix of emotions. The bit of light that was shining in through the pulled-down blinds looked pretty on Shinya’s face, but with each passing day, his tied-up body felt more and more out of place. Tsunagu was trying to push down that feeling but he couldn’t. He went over, laying down, and caressing Shinya’s face, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, with a sadder expression.

“Are you happy seeing me like this? Unable to move? With no choice?”

Shinya asked, wondering just how deep this delusion Tsunagu had built up was; feeling like it had become more shallow. It was silent for a moment, time ticking by awfully slow, but there was no tension. Just silence and Shinya allowed himself to turn his head after a while:

“Tsu, please answer.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to.”

“Why is that? Because it becomes real when you do? I promise you, we can figure something out.”

The older one’s caresses became more firm, not in a mad way, it wasn’t angry at all, it was desperate. Scared, he was scared:

“I was so happy, having you with me, being able to kiss you. I was happy seeing you all the time but it feels.. wrong now. I want you... I want... I..”

“You are such a clever man, Tsu, you know you will be going to prison right? I can plead for you. If they believe me it’s not Stockholm. I can get you mental help.”

Shinya explained, giving a gentle smile for the first time in weeks, as Tsunagu only listened:

“Wouldn’t you like it if I visited you every day out of my own free will? If I came to see you because I care about you and not because you have me restrained? You haven’t hurt people. You haven’t killed anyone. Tsu, you are not beyond help. You just need to allow yourself to get it.”

“But I kidnapped you. I drugged you and stole you.”

Tsunagu said, and Shinya saw a single tear on the other’s cheek. The atmosphere was weirdly calming, and the gray-haired man continued talking:

“I forgive you for that. You need help, help I can’t give you and I know you’re not going to be happy like this long-term. I will make you a promise if you agree. I promise you will not lose me as a friend. I will not leave you. I will not let you serve more time than the court gives you. But I want you to promise in return to get help. There are good mental facilities, they are not all bad. I will support you.”

“But.. but you won’t love me.”

“Tsu, there are more kinds of love than romantic. I love you as a friend. I care about you so much. I want you to be okay, and I know you are not a bad person. You aren’t, you are a hero. I’ve known you for so long, and you are kind and nice, and talented. I admire you. But you have to prove to everyone that you can be good.”

Tsunagu was about to reply as the door flew open with a crash; seconds before people stormed in; Endeavor and Mirko first, followed by Hawks, all ready to fight and Tsunagu looked at his love with fear in his eyes.

“Don’t attack!!”

Shinya yelled, and the three froze, keeping out anyone still outside the door. One last kiss fell on his lips before Tsunagu got up from the bad, calmly and slowly how he had been taught to in a situation like that. He slowly raised his hands, closing them into fists to signify he wasn’t going to use his quirk on them.

The heroes all looked confused, even more so as Tsunagu began to cry more, with heartwrenching sobs, not resisting at all as Mirko pinned him down. Shinya asked her to be gentle, and Jeanist only moved his hands to free Shinya from the threads holding him trapped against the bed; it hurt to move his limbs after so long, but he could stand with Hawks’ help:

“I will keep my promise, I hope you know that Tsu. I want you to get better. I will just need to see when I can visit you. But I promise you I will come. It might hurt until then, and you might feel like I will not, but I promise you so much that I will.”

The days passed, it was a struggle for Shinya to rush through checkups, assuring the doctors and his colleagues he was fine. It was a struggle to get through psychological checkups and to convince people that his care for Tsunagu was genuine and not a result of trauma. It wasn’t Stockholm, because the feelings were the same as before; he wanted to be the blonde’s friend and wanted him to be happy. He couldn’t love him romantically, but he could platonically. And could and wanted to support him. It took a lot of convincing, especially to Endeavor and Mirko, to be allowed to go see Tsunagu again.

And when it was finally time, he brought a single Erika flower to the prison; Tsunagu looked terrible when Shinya saw him; thin, like he hadn’t eaten, and tired. His mind had probably gotten to him and he surely must have wondered if the younger one would really come.

“Hey. I finally made it. I’m sorry it took so long.”

He spoke gently, watching as the other perked up and came to the cell’s door:

“Shi.. I was-“

He started, but the younger one interrupted him; smiling and handing him the flower:

“I know. I had a hard time trying to be allowed to see you. I brought you a flower. Erikas signify friendship, I thought you might like it as a promise.”

“But flowers wilt..”

“I know they do. But our friendship won’t. Not if you get the help you need. If you promise to try your best to get better. And I make another promise; until your heart feels better, I will not start dating. Not Ryukyu and not anyone. I want you to be comfortable. And I don’t want you to feel like I do anything to hurt you on purpose. So I will wait.”

The blonde stared for a moment, then slowly nodded; he wanted to say Shinya didn’t have to do it but he appreciated it too much for that. His heart throbbed so badly already at the knowledge that the younger one would never reciprocate his romantic feelings.

“It hurts so much.”

“I know, Tsu. That’s why I hope that the facility you’ll be brought to will help. If you make an effort, they will shorten your sentence. I pleaded for that. I went through a psychological check-up, one that deemed me in the right state to make such a statement. It hurts me too to see you in pain like that. But I can’t soothe it by making myself unhappy by faking feelings that aren’t there. But a friendship isn’t worth less than a romance. I hope you know that. You won’t lose my attention. Not again.”

He said, taking the other’s hand through the bars; it was warm, and soft, and comfortable. For a moment they just stood there, calmly, and listening to the noises of other people talking:

“If you want to be a hero again, and regain everyone else’s trust, you will have to work really hard for that. I cannot promise it will be a success. I cannot promise you will be okay. I can only promise you that I will be there but only if you try.”

“What if I won’t be better?”

“I am optimistic. I know you. But if not then we will have to see from there. It’s normal that there won’t be instant improvements, and it’s normal for there to be declines from time to time. I want you to know that so you don’t lose hope. You will need that hope and you can’t give up.”

Shinya spoke, his voice still soft and calm. Tsunagu looked at him, being the one to let go of the short one’s hand:

“What if I tried only for you?”

“Then you still try. I’m sure you will be able to do it for yourself, once you start improving. I just want you to know you’re not alone at all. I know your mind will plague you enough.”

For the rest of the allowed visitation time, the two talked; not always about relevant things, some moments were spent entirely on memories, jokes and plans. Shinya promised to take him skating again. To have movie nights and dinners still. Tsunagu even agreed to try and speak with Ryukyu as well about everything. Once her anger died down.

Months flew by like minutes, and the mental facility Tsunagu stayed at permanently now, after his seven-month-long prison sentence, helped him greatly. Therapy was provided and he could speak freely about his feelings. His obsession and the unbearable pain. He was trying different medications, all safely observed by doctors, and Shinya visited him often. After around three months, other heroes had also started seeing him again. Especially scary was the moment of Gang Orca stomping towards him, causing him to flinch thinking he’d hit him only to be pulled into a tight hug.

“Tsunagu how much of an idiot are you?!”

He had said, but with the explanations and Tsunagu’s attempt at redemption, was more worried than angry. Shinya forgave him after all, so he was willing to do the same. It didn’t change what he did and that certainly wouldn’t be forgotten, but there was room for forgiveness nonetheless.

There was improvement, good improvement, only interrupted by days where Tsunagu felt like dying; pain overwhelming him along with despair of having surrendered without a fight. He was upset those days, angry with himself, and the only talking he did with people was when he asked the staff for some time alone. As alone as they let him be at that point. But overall, the worst thing about this facility was that he couldn’t wear his beloved denim fabric; trapped in ugly uncreative clothes he wanted to pimp with literally anything.

After over a year, he was allowed to return to his own apartment; still needing to serve mandatory therapy sessions, but overall free again. He did a lot of social work during this time, soon retaking leadership of his agency. Many of his sidekicks had left, while others stayed loyal to him albeit with cracked trust.

The pain was also a loyal companion, but now it wasn’t as bad. He wasn’t keeping it hidden to himself. Shinya wasn’t unaware of his feelings. Everyone knew now and everyone supported him when he needed time. It wasn’t jealousy now when Shinya was with Ryukyu, it was something else he couldn’t explain. But he got the other’s attention in equal amounts now, and the platonic aura, the different look Shinya gave him began to feel like something special rather than something bad. They were best friends. They could rely on each other. And fight together and even though he would never wake up to kiss Shinya, he could still wake up laughing with him after falling asleep on the couch during a movie.

But what was even stronger than the pain was the pure happiness of not losing Shinya’s light. He would be able to appreciate the friendship fully, one day, he knew that he could, if he just kept on putting effort into accepting the help that had been long overdue.

And that brought him a spark of peace he’d never felt.

[stonyponyofficial]

20, 25, 10.

10 What's your favorite book?

hmmm off the top of my head slaughterhouse 5 ^_^ i should pick that up again tbh

20 Have you ever been caught doing the do

caught? no. we've cut it close a few times tho ha ha o_o

25 What's a controversial opinion you have

usually when people ask me this irl i go for some lefty shit i know they aren't gonna be behind, but here idk what to say bc i feel like we're all on the same page wrt like. decolonization, imperial destruction, drug legalization, president hunting etc. maybe some food opinions will get us riled up. uhhhh u know that post on that vegan subreddit "half an avocado with white rice and salt, add soy sauce if u think ur better than me"? first time i saw that, it looked soooooo yummy 2 me i actually started cooking myself rice and veggies more bc of it (and yes w soy sauce bc im better than that poster)

haha yaaaay more questies just for me pls !!!!!

[theinkofbabel]

Hello everyone who will read this,

It's ya boy, the bloke who swears they will write but didn't because there is no music for the vibe I'm feeling. I've been wanting to write- or do a text rp- about something scifi like Battletech but in a much smaller scope. I am going fucking insane because I haven't been able to leave the house properly for a whole week now. I'm going stir crazy and I can't help it! I can't go anywhere because I don't have any sidewalks around my house, which is the only downside to living in the woods. I didn't take pictures of what I made this week or last because of this damn insanity and I hate it! I hate it, hate it, hate it!! I've gone back to sitting in a cool position and tossing a baseball up in the air to calm my insanity! I don't want to be sitting all day, but I can't do shit until people actually respond about job applications!

Also the lemon pecan salmon was amazing! I squeezed a lemon on top of it and put it on some white rice! On the side I put some roasted green beans and soy sauce! I'm sorry for yelling so much. By the gods, this insanity is getting to me. I'm going out later today to try a local food truck outside of a Lowes, and it sounds amazing so far. I might make a post after I get lunch to share it, just to make up for my past failures to get pictures of food.

A NEW THING HAS HAPPENED AS WELL! My little brother is getting into dnd and has finally accepted to watch things I recommend. He is watching ATLA, not the live actions, and he is watching Vinland Saga with me! He started this by watching Delicious in Dungeon and I just sat down to watch with him, thus started our new Thursday tradition of watching a show together and our Friday tradition of watching a movie together! He's getting into dnd because he all of a sudden has begun wanting dice and I asked him if he had any friends he'd want to play with where I could be a GM for them, and low and behold when he asked one of his friends he was invited to a club in his school for it! I'm helping him get prepped for it! He decided to be a half wood elf, after I described to him the ancestries of dnd. He thought that was the one to pick because all the other ancestries were too strange to him or they were simply elves, which are too long lived for him. After him and I talking about what sort of class he'd want to play, he decided on being a ranger. After going through the subclasses- because this club is in the middle of a campaign- he decided on fey wanderer because he enjoys a bit of trickery.

Long story short, because I need to get up and do something in a few minutes. He decided to be a story teller of sorts, but he has the problem of not thinking he can write stories or think of them. He's perfectly capable of it, because I've had full conversations with him about making up stories. I agreed to help him with it by writing stories for him to use, BUT I have amazing tactical genius! I plan to do this similarly to how one would ween someone would ween someone off of drugs! I plan to try to get him to write a few stories after seeing a few things from me and slowly get him to write his own stories!

But that is where I have to stop for today! I love talking as always, but I've sort of come to a point in my growth where I don't cringe at much anymore. That means I don't cringe at myself, but that doesn't stop me from fearing things. I am sort of gazing back while I can't do anything, and I like how I've grown. I hope whoever reads this likes themselves too. I just got a piece of bubble gum and it tastes sweet just like this moment in life. I wish any of you still reading have a good day!

Yours Truly,

Michael