#First original post :0

[5unfower]

[habken]

“two eight year olds in a trench coat” version of the fusion au was so good too

[sysig]

Good skeles, like you lots (Patreon)

[designernishiki]

well. at least he didn’t choose the pen name “i heart nishiki”

[koicrimes]

a deal is a deal 😌

(dialogue & ref under the cut)

i've been wanting to see them as mermaid man and barnacle boy since august. the idea never went away 😂

[0dotexe]

New pfp, but make it a full sona ref.

[lesbworth]

shitty chaidai lesbian blingee for all your chaidai lesbian blingee needs

[bugtoast]

Aw what a lovely family! I sure do hope the adoptive father isn’t evil and manipulative or anything!!!1!

Reblogs are appreciated!!!!

Version without filters under the cut

[gingermoon6]

☆ gotcha :)

[bunnyinatree]

Behold what is probably my most colorful creation to date: Misa Frank 💖🐬✨

[image ID: a digital drawing of Misa from Death Note in the style of Lisa Frank, specifically the drawing from this post. Misa is sitting on a colorful surfboard beside a tuxedo cat, and her hair is up in pigtails and dyed purple at the tips. She is smiling and looking at the camera, beneath the words, "Yes, the horrors are indescribable, but you've got to serve." There are various other flourishes, like a purple dolphin in the foreground and a rainbow sailboat in the background. Misa's seashell-esque bathing suit is inspired by this post. End image ID.]

[cicadaemon]

I touched on it last night, but I gotta share my thots cause I haven't stopped thinking about her at all. But I'm sure everyone has heard about how Hitoshi (Kuze's actor) got head from a trans girl that was so good it made him into a trans ally. IDK how true that is, but he did direct a film about a trans woman with an actual trans lead in it. Which led me down the idea that Kuze's also a trans ally which then led me to the idea of him actually having a wife who is trans.

So the idea was that his wife use to be his kyodai and they definitely had some homoerotic shit going on, with Kuze having his gay crisis over it while the other was going through a gender crisis. The conclusion in @thomasjopsons words

Anyways they get together and it's all fun and games. Kuze helps her come up with a name which is Hiromi (kanji being 優美 meaning superior beauty) and they live happily ever after. Till he gets thrown into prison for 11 years but that's okay! He gets out and they retire.

There's also other stuff, like her interacting with other gokudo wives and Kuze beating the shit out of anyone who says anything. They got two dogs.

[sysig]

My ship now (Patreon)

[unoriginalcontent]

Birth

[iii-days-grace]

The Father, the Bun, and the Holy Ghost

Hey! I don't have the spoons today to put this up and tag it on AO3 and/or Knotfic, but I wanted to post it anyway. I'll upload it there in a few days or whenever I have the time and energy.

In that case, consider this a sort of open beta reading :) Summary: Shawn and Sid get the munchies one night while on tour, and explore a new city to find a restaurant with an unusual theme.

Word Count: 1076

Rating: Gen

Characters: Sid Wilson, Shawn Crahan

Pairing: 0/6

The Father, the Bun, and the Holy Ghost

‘Sorry daddy, I’ve been -’

Shawn swats Sid from across the table. ‘That’s not the words. Here.’ He shoves a fry into his hand and pops the lid from off Sid’s drink. Not technically the right ritual either, but they’ll skip the confession shit for now. The food is hot, so state of grace be damned.

As he shifts he catches a whiff of pot stink from his jacket. They shared another joint on the way over so he knows they both have to stink at this point, all the smoke and sweat and probably other things liberated by the misty spring rain they had walked through to get here. Everything in this city closed early for some reason.

But this is a burger place somewhere close to midnight, who else is it open for anyway besides the stoners?

Probably not good Christian boys, even if weed was legal in this country. He thinks. He doesn’t have time to remember such things on tour. Nobody seems to be batting an eye about the smell of the Devil’s lettuce though, so they’re probably fine.

Something about the cocktail tickles his limbic system in a way that reminds him of evenings spent loitering behind the high school, bumming smokes off each other from friends and tucking butts inside their pockets to avoid leaving evidence.

Anyway, the stench that leaches off them still doesn’t mask the hot and crispy smell from off the trays. Thick-cut golden fries with skin, the burger bleeds that weird pink juice that isn’t blood, but sure looks like it — nothing like the anaemic grey things they usually manage to grab from a drive-through between shows.

‘Earth to Shawn?’ Sid’s still holding his fry between his fingertips like a joint, waiting.

‘Alright, alright. Now eat it.’ Shawn sloshes the open drink in one hand as he gestures. A few drops — (the blood of Christ, amen) — land on the buns, fries scattered around it like manna (don’t worry, I’ll pay. Let’s go. No, it’s not too far, we’ll walk, I’m starving.) Midnight, high school, hotel. Follow the fryer and grease smell inside.

Where were they again?

He shakes his head and floats himself back down to Earth, and listens to the ice crackling in his drink as he waits for the man across the table to finish chewing. Somewhere between one and thirty minutes later, Sid conquers the solitary little fry and grins.

‘Okay, now gimme the blood,’ he says, wiggling his fingers in a lazy impression of Count Dracula.

He pauses. ‘Wait, does this make us vampires? Holy shit, is Jesus a zombie?’ Sid whispers in horror — maybe dramatic, but maybe real if his high is anything like the one smoothing out Shawn’s frontal lobes.

Grabbing Shawn’s free hand, Sid peels his sparkling, bloodshot eyes open like he’s about to spill some big secret and over the table. Sid blinks, trying and mostly failing to focus, his eyes swimming a little as he’s distracted by the neon sign over Shawn’s shoulder.

Shawn’s facing away from the wall, but he can see the logo mirrored on the window, shimmering through the glazed reflection and backlit by the city lights beyond it.

‘Sidney.’

‘Are we cannibals?’

‘You’re not even Catholic. Do you want me to do it or not?’ Shawn asks. Goddamn zombie Jesus. He sighs. An argument for when they’re more baked, perhaps.

Not that they’re being proper about the thing anyway, but this isn’t much of a church either, let alone a cathedral, so who cares. Despite the topical verses printed on the cups and the cheeky golden calf by the tip jar (’alms for the poor’). In another life he might be able to remember what the verses are about, but currently his attention is doing double duty.

Shawn holds the drink to Sid’s face and gently backhands him again when he moves to pick it up. Sid gets the idea and lets Shawn hold the cup while he takes a sip, swishing it around in his mouth. He looks at Shawn expectantly.

‘That’s it?’

‘By the power vested in me by the state of Iowa, I now pronounce you cleansed of fast food sins. Heathen. Can we eat now?’

‘Can I have your pickle?’

‘What, your thirst hasn’t been slaked yet? Spiritually speaking of course. Don’t waste the blessing, or we’ll have to do it all over again.’ He laughs and shakes his head, and peels open his sandwich, plopping the vinegary wafer onto Sid’s plate.

‘You’re gross,’ he says.

‘Hey, fuck you, it was your weed.’

Sid tucks the evil green thing into the real lettuce and folds his burger back together. Shawn methodically snaps the lid back on his drink and unwraps his straw, squinting at the verse printed on the paper, something from Ecclesiastes. One of the nicer books of the thing, if he remembers correctly. He tucks the paper his pocket to look up in the bedside Bible back at the hotel.

They eat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights and the sizzle of fries cooking. Now and then the doorbell jingles as someone enters the restaurant. Sid bums the occasional fry from his plate; Shawn lets him. The high settles into his muscles as the food sits warm in his belly.

There's no clock in here, but the sound of the remaining ice cubes rattling as Sid finishes his drink bring him back to Earth again.

Sid taps his arm.

‘Hey, I saw a fried chicken place with a sexy chicken lady logo on the way here. Do you think that one’s themed like a strip club?’

Sure, why not? If a burger could be redeemed, chicken probably could too.

‘Let’s check it out. There’s a mini-fridge in the room for leftovers.‘

They clear their table and stack the trays on top of the bin. Shawn slips his jacket back on again as they go outside. As they open the door, in the distance, he fancies he hears the ring of a church bell.

‘I’ll buy,’ Shawn says, ‘but you owe me a joint for this one.’

Sid laughs and gently shoves into Shawn with his shoulder, hands in his pockets as they head back into the night.

‘Any time, dude. Any time.’

FINI

Ecclesiastes 9:7 - Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for God has already approved what you do.

[soyoursoulisgreen]

14. Favorite motifs

If love-hearts count, probably that haha ♪ I draw them so often! Any time there's any kind of ♥ - whether smitten or vindictive or silly or flirty or angry, there's always room for a ❤️ somewhere!