#killer tofu

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[razzek]

Look. Say what you will about Nickelodeon’s Doug (I barely remember it). But The Beets feckin’ RULE!

[luteofthunder]

Am I the only one that thinks of ‘Killer Tofu’ by The Beets from the cartoon ‘Doug’?

when you see the phrase "oo ee oo" if the first thing you think of is miku you're going to heaven and if it's weezer you're going to hell

[monkishes]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⸻ ✧˚ · . 𝓻esidue 𓈒 𓈒 03

summary: After witnessing a murder, you expect to be killed on the spot. Instead the killer demands for shelter in your home. The only way out of the clutches of death, is to let him stay. Fear and uncertainty ripped within your body, but you had to comply. That was the only way to live.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2558

extra: find more on ao3 @monkishes, wp @joyfuii

warnings: death, murder,

01, 02, 03, 04 masterlist

You found yourself standing in front of the small kitchen counter, hands trembling as you stared down at the scattered contents of your fridge. There wasn't much: a carton of eggs, some wilted vegetables, a block of tofu that might've been well past its prime, and a half-finished jar of kimchi. You glanced at the killer, who had made himself comfortable on your sofa. He sat with one arm draped across the backrest, his legs spread in a relaxed posture, eyes fixed on you with unsettling patience. He had the air of someone who could wait for hours, watching you squirm, feeding off your fear.

The sight of him lounging in your living room like he owned the place made your stomach twist. You were acutely aware of how surreal and terrifying this situation was, how fragile your life had become. You needed to focus, to keep it together, at least long enough to buy yourself more time.

You grabbed the carton of eggs and set it on the counter, pulling a frying pan from the cabinet. Your fingers fumbled with the stove controls as you turned on the heat, trying to steady your breathing. Everything felt wrong—every movement, every sound, every thought. The normalcy of cooking felt like a grotesque contrast to the horror lurking in the background. How was this even real? A killer had walked into your home, washed his hands of blood in your bathroom, and now expected you to cook for him.

Just keep moving, you told yourself. Don't think about it too much. He's not killing you yet, so just keep him calm.

You cracked the eggs into the pan, the sizzle of oil offering a brief distraction from the weight of his gaze. But it didn't last. You could still feel him watching you, silently assessing. A shiver ran down your spine, and you tried not to think about how close he had come to ending your life mere minutes ago.

"What's taking so long?" His voice broke the fragile silence, a lazy drawl that sent a chill through you. "I thought I told you to hurry."

You swallowed hard and tried to keep your voice steady as you replied, "It's almost ready." Your throat felt tight, the words barely making it out.

He didn't respond, but the weight of his presence loomed over you, making the simple act of cooking feel like a test of survival. You stirred the eggs in the pan, adding a dash of salt with trembling fingers. Every clink of the utensils, every hiss of the stovetop, felt amplified in the oppressive quiet of your small apartment.

You risked a glance at him over your shoulder. His expression hadn't changed much—he still looked as if he was enjoying this strange game, his dark eyes half-lidded, lips curving slightly at the corners. He looked too relaxed for someone who had just committed murder. The juxtaposition was unnerving.

When the eggs were done, you slid them onto a plate and hesitated for a moment before placing it on the small table in front of him. You stayed standing, unsure of what to do next. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, to escape this nightmare, but you knew better. There was nowhere to go. He had your phone, your wallet, and most importantly, your life in his hands.

"Sit," he commanded, his voice soft but with a weight that left no room for defiance.

You did as he said, sitting across from him at the table. Your hands rested on your lap, gripping the fabric of your pants so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You watched as he picked up the fork and slowly began to eat, taking deliberate bites as if savoring the moment. It was unsettling, the way he chewed so calmly, as if this was just another meal and not some twisted prelude to God knows what.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like a small eternity. The sound of his fork scraping against the plate filled the room, and you found yourself hyper-focusing on it, anything to drown out the swirling thoughts of fear in your head. But the silence was suffocating, and eventually, he looked up at you again, that unnerving smile playing at his lips.

"You don't seem like the type who cooks often," he remarked, leaning back in his chair. He tilted his head, studying you like a puzzle he was trying to solve.

You forced yourself to answer, even though your voice was barely above a whisper. "I... I don't. Not usually."

He chuckled, a sound that sent a tremor of unease through you. "I can tell. But it's not bad."

You weren't sure how to respond to that, so you said nothing, your gaze dropping to the table in front of you. Your heart was still pounding in your chest, and your body felt tense, like a coiled spring ready to snap. You just wanted this to end, wanted him to leave so you could curl up somewhere and try to forget that this ever happened.

But something told you it wasn't going to be that easy.

He finished the food, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up and stretching as if this were just a casual evening. Then, without warning, he crossed the room and grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet. The sudden contact made you flinch, your pulse spiking in panic.

"I think it's time we talked about something more important," he said, his voice dropping an octave. His fingers tightened around your wrist, and you winced at the pressure, instinctively trying to pull away, but he held you in place, his grip unyielding.

"W-What do you want?" you stammered, your voice barely audible over the rush of blood pounding in your ears.

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he dragged you across the room, pulling you into the small hallway leading to your bedroom. You stumbled behind him, your legs weak and shaky as dread settled deep in your gut. Every step toward the closed door felt like a march toward something terrible.

When he reached the door, he pushed it open and shoved you inside, his grip on your wrist finally loosening as you stumbled into the familiar space. He followed, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The sound of the latch sent a jolt of terror through you, and you spun around to face him, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.

He stood by the door, watching you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. His eyes were sharp, calculating, like a predator sizing up its prey. You took an involuntary step back, your back pressing up against the edge of your bed.

"I need to make sure you understand something," he said, his voice soft but laced with menace. He took a step forward, and your breath hitched in your throat. "I don't like loose ends. People who talk too much... they're liabilities."

You shook your head quickly, your pulse racing. "I won't say anything. I swear."

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the room seemed to close in around you. "It's easy to say that now," he murmured, taking another step closer, "but how do I know you'll keep that promise?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Your mind was a whirlwind of fear and confusion. What was he getting at? What did he want from you?

He reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek. The touch was light, almost gentle, but it sent a wave of revulsion through you. "You're going to be a good little secret-keeper, aren't you?" His voice was low, dangerous, his eyes locking onto yours. "Because if you're not... I'll come back, and next time, it won't just be to visit."

You nodded frantically, your body trembling. "I-I will. I promise."

He studied you for a long, agonizing moment, as if weighing your words. Then, finally, he let out a soft hum of satisfaction and took a step back, releasing you from the crushing weight of his presence.

"Good," he said simply. "Then I guess this is goodbye... for now."

With that, he turned and walked out of your room, leaving you standing there, breathless and shaken. The sound of the front door opening and closing moments later felt surreal, as if it were part of some distant dream.

For a long time, you just stood there, staring at the empty doorway, your legs too weak to support you any longer. When you finally collapsed onto the bed, the tears you had been holding back spilled over, silent sobs wracking your body as the reality of what had just happened crashed down on you.

You were alive. But for how long?

You didn't know if this nightmare was over—or if it had only just begun.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared down at the door, unmoving and completely alert. A couple minutes ago, when the killer was beside you, you felt no fear. For some reason now that he'd left your home, you felt yourself growing more and more terrified by the second. You feared that he was waiting with his knife behind your door, waiting for you to make one wrong move and come in to kill you like he killed that poor, old man.

At that thought, you suddenly remembered the gruesome and grotesque scene that you'd witnessed earlier. The whole reason why you were in this predicament. What did he even do to deserve that?

Questions filled your mind as you struggled to find the right answers for them. Your head began to pound as all the thoughts of the events that had just occurred replayed over and over in your head.

Finally, you broke out of your trance, forcing yourself to look away from the door and went to the kitchen to grab yourself some water.

Your hands trembled violently as you filled the glass with water, the cool liquid slipping over the rim and onto the counter as you struggled to steady yourself. You took a shaky sip, but it did nothing to quell the suffocating tightness in your chest. Your heart was hammering too hard, your mind racing with thoughts you couldn't control.

He could still be there. He could be right outside the door.

The idea rooted itself in your mind, growing stronger with each passing second. What if he hadn't left? What if he was waiting, just out of sight, ready to pounce the second you let your guard down?

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed to hear a familiar voice—someone to pull you out of this spiral. Your fingers fumbled as you grabbed your phone, barely able to unlock it. Jennie's name flashed on the screen as you hit her contact, your breathing unsteady while the phone rang.

She picked up quickly. "Hey, Y/N! What's up?" she chirped, her voice so normal and light, completely unaware of the chaos tearing through you.

For a moment, you couldn't speak. The words you had practiced in your head disappeared, leaving you with only the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears. How could you explain this? How could you possibly tell her that you'd seen a man die, that there was a murderer who might still be lurking just feet away? It sounded too insane to even say out loud.

"Y/N?" Jennie's voice crackled through the speaker again, this time more concerned. "Hello? You there?"

"I—" You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. "Yeah, I'm here."

"You okay? You sound... off. Is something wrong?"

Your gaze flicked toward the door, the fear constricting your chest even more tightly. You could still picture him in your mind: the killer's cold stare, the flash of the blade, the blood. All of it came rushing back, making it harder to breathe. You wanted to tell Jennie everything, but every time you tried to form the words, they caught in your throat.

What would she even think? Would she believe you?

"Y/N?" Jennie's voice pulled you back, her concern deepening. "What's going on? You're scaring me a little."

You opened your mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again. What if saying it out loud made it all feel too real? You didn't want this to be real. Maybe if you kept it to yourself, it would somehow disappear, like a bad dream you could forget.

"I..." You took a shaky breath, forcing the words out, but the truth still wouldn't come. "It's nothing. I'm just... I don't know. I've had a really long day."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Are you sure?" Jennie's voice softened, but you could tell she wasn't convinced. "You sound really freaked out."

Your pulse quickened, the panic bubbling up again. You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your free hand to your forehead as if that could stop the racing thoughts. "Yeah, I swear," you lied, your voice wavering. "I've just been stressed out lately... work's been a lot. I didn't get much sleep last night."

There was another pause, longer this time. You could almost hear Jennie trying to figure out if she believed you. You hated lying to her, but you couldn't bring yourself to explain the truth. It was too terrifying to say out loud.

"You sound like you're scared," she said gently, her tone probing, like she was waiting for you to crack. "If something's wrong, you can tell me, Y/N."

Your throat tightened as the urge to tell her everything flared up again, but you forced it down. The words hovered on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to spill out, but you couldn't do it. If you told her, then she'd worry. And then... what if it was all in your head? What if this killer wasn't waiting for you at all?

"I'm fine," you said quickly, forcing a small laugh, though it sounded hollow in your ears. "Really, it's just been one of those days. I'm overthinking everything."

Jennie didn't sound convinced. "Alright," she said slowly, her doubt clear. "But if you need anything, you call me, okay? Even if it's just to talk."

"Yeah, I will," you lied again, hating yourself for it. "Thanks, Jennie."

You ended the call, the silence in your apartment crashing down around you. Your phone felt cold in your hand, useless now that the conversation was over. You stood there, frozen, the same sense of dread creeping back into your mind like a dark fog.

Then—

Knock, knock, knock.

The sudden, harsh banging echoed through the apartment like a gunshot. You jumped, nearly dropping your phone, your pulse spiking as the sound reverberated in your chest. Your body went rigid, and your eyes darted to the door. The knock came again, harder this time, more impatient.

Your stomach twisted violently. Was it him? Had he come back? The image of the killer flashed through your mind again—his cold, emotionless eyes, the blood dripping from his knife—and your breath caught in your throat.

You took a small step back, staring at the door, paralyzed by fear.

[draconym]

Two of the best from my looney tunes horse project, Killer Tofu and her son Tasty Cakes. Pictured next to a stranger's normal looking horse for comparison.

I will say that while I don't think the developer team of Ye Old Homophobic Horse Game has improved at all, the player base has gotten notably queerer to the point that half the tack on the site is pride themed and mods gave up on policing people putting their pronouns in their bios. If we keep going this way I think we can make the player base 99% gay by 2025.

[bohbee]

Genshin characters reacting to GN reader falling asleep.

(Part 2)

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Masterlist

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, Childe (tartaglia/ajax), Kazuha.

Warnings: Cussing and mentioning thoughts of death [childe], sexual misunderstanding [zhongli]

Notes:

Childe

Being in a relationship with the well-known Childe was certainly a hassle in itself. You had many close encounters, causing your poor boyfriend to always be on edge. This also meant you didn't have the luxury of many things, like being alone outside. However, him always working made you lonely so you would often sit outside of his door and wait for him. Soon enough your eyes started to get heavy, sleep quickly taking over.

When Childe opened his door and saw your body limp on the floor, the blood drained from his skin. "Fuck come on (y/n)" he grabbed your body and shook you heavily. The gingers heart was beating hard against his chest as his brain turned into a fog. However, that fog quickly dissipated as you groggily opened your eyes "tartaglia??". He let out a heavy breath as he hugged you tightly "babe I'm gonna need you to never do that again." Before you could ask what happened, he kissed your lips and lifted you up. He placed you down on the couch and plopped his weight on top of you. "Let's sleep before you give me another heart attack"

Kazuha

The ship rocked slowly, the warm sun beating down onto each of the crew members. It was morning time, Beidou had us stop at an abandoned island to grab some fresh fruits, and hopefully, there was some treasure. You had decided to stay back and read your boyfriends poems. There wasn't much for you to do anyways so why not? Soon enough, the rhythmic rocking swayed you to sleep.

Afternoon had hit, the rest of the crew had come back and started to make some lunch. "(y/n)?" A voice called out from the stairs, footsteps made their way to the slumbering body. A bandaged hand grazed your cheek softly, as small kisses peppered your face. Your eyes fluttered open to only be met with loving red ones. "C'mon love, lunch is ready." he said before he kissed your lips lovingly.

Xiao

Xiao was called by Aether, he had a deal with him to where if anything happened to just call his name. He had that for a few people, so you couldn't be angry at him suddenly disappearing. You sat in your room at Wangshu Inn. It wasn't certain if Xiao would come back tonight, but just in case you placed down some almond tofu. As the moon light lit the sky, you laid down in your bed. There had been many times when you had been alone waiting for your demon killer to come back, but it didn't make it less lonely. You closed your eyes and went off to dream land.

The door to your room creaked open, revealing the anemo yaksha. His eyes landed on the tofu and then quickly moved to your sleeping body. Not wanting to waste your delicious food, he took a few bites of the tofu and walked over to you. Carefully, he moved the pillow that you were cuddling and placed himself in your arms. "I'm back, sleep well"

Zhongli

The old archon had been with you for hundreds of years, each chapter making new friends. In this chapter of your life, a devious rich asshole named Childe waltzed in. And now here are the two of you sitting in a private room waiting for the ginger boy to join you. The both of you were reading a book together, your head leaning on Zhonglis shoulder as he read the words aloud. Childe was very late, most likely getting stuck with some authorities. Zhongli took another sip of his tea as he flipped the page of the book.

"He's taking a while, isn't he my dove?" His deep honey-like voice said. However, when he didn't gain a response, he peered down. His golden eyes looked at his beloved, your eyes were closed as you set off to dream land. He carefully moved your body down to his lap as he brushed his lengthy fingers through your hair. (If you lack hair then he softly massaged your head)

Shortly after the one and only Childe slammed into the room, startling you from Zhonglis lap "Oh hoo hooo~ now what were you two doing~~~"

♡♡♡♡♡♡

I think this was good

[ibarkatpeoplewoofwoofbitch]

creepypasta headcannons

their favorite food?

Jeffery hodek:I would assume cherrie pie

Liu hodek: peanutbutter crackers

Tobias rogers: seems like he'd like pizza or a good cooked hamburger

Nina the killer: hamburger helper

Ben drowned:shrimp pasta

Eyeless jack:I headcannon he was a vegetarian when he was alive and well not a whole ass demon maybe tofu or like salad.

The puppeteer: he didn't have one, not picky.

Helen otis: they were that picky friend who only ordered chicken and fries out to eat.

Candy pop:cotton candy

LJ:lollipops

[IMPORTANT] Tim and Brian are NOT creepypastas but I'd assume Tim would like slim Jim's and Brian would like original potato lays chips

Jason the toy maker: didn't he live I nthe 1800s? I don't remember him much but I'd assume fish and chips.

Nathan the nobody: over easy eggs and hashbrowns.

------------------------------------------------------

Favorite color?

Would say every color in the rainbow: LJ,Candy Pop, jason the toy maker

Would say red, orange, yellow,: ben drowned, Liu hodek, puppeteer, Helen otis,

Would say it like that one vine black like my soul: ticci toby, Nina the killer, Jeff hodek

Would be fucking normal or something and just say I like blue I guess:eyeless jack,Nathan the nobody.

------------------------------------------------------

Favorite class back in school:

Music:puppeteer, candypop,lj,.

Math:Liu hodek,Nina the killer

Art:,Helen otis jason the toy maker.

History:Jeff hodek, ticci toby, Ben drowned.

Gym:Nathan the nobody

Science:eyeless jack.

------------------------------------------------------

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hi Cal :) I think you know what I’m here for.

☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️ ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

Hell yeah! 48 for ☠️:

---

“Everything was going fine,” says one of Tommy’s friends from Harbor. Matt. One is Matt, the other is Mark. Athena struggles to distinguish between them, honestly. “Tommy’s parties are always a little… Well, okay. He’s not exactly a riot when he’s the host. So I was surprised he suggested it honestly.”

“Honestly, half the reason I came was because he makes a killer caesar.” Mark explains. “I’ve been vegan for three years, and Tommy always makes vegan and non-vegan options.”

So the party was stale but the drinks were good. Thus explains more and more of Eddie, Chimney, Hen, and Karen’s state of inebriation. Athena doesn’t blame them, to be honest. 

Things started to go wrong shortly after Eddie was revealed as the murder victim, fictionally impaled with a fire poker. 

“Again, let me say, no one was surprised he chose me,” Eddie grumbles. 

“And why is that?” Ransone asks him. 

“He hasn’t liked me since he and Buck started dating,” Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know why. We used to be friends.”

Athena wonders if Eddie might be walking around with a blindfold on. 

Of course, Tommy’s jealousy over Buck and Eddie’s closeness was not the reason the party went to hell. Though perhaps it may have been, if someone hadn’t literally died before that could happen. 

“Right after the murder was revealed, Tommy served the caesars,” Buck explains. “Which I was pretty excited about, because I’ve heard so much about them. But he never makes them unless there’s a party. Anyway, two trays of drinks. Vegan and non-vegan. And the first thing I noticed that was weird is that Captain Gerrard went for the vegan.” 

“Why was that weird?” Ransone asks. 

Buck’s mouth twists to the side a little as he thinks about how best to answer. 

“Uh, he doesn’t hold plant-based lifestyles in a very high regard,” Buck answers diplomatically. “He wasn’t into it when I suggested a vegetarian meal at the fire station one night.”

This gives Athena pause. Because she knows Buck isn’t being fully forthcoming. She remembers the incident he’s talking about, because he complained to Bobby about it and she overheard. 

I wanted to try an Ethiopian lentil recipe and he called me a soy-boy! He said all that tofu would give me breasts! 

Buck had been livid. 

Why isn’t he saying that now? This is Buck, though. He’s kind. Gentle. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk poorly of the dead. 

“Well, of course Vince went for the vegan pitcher!”

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Where the Bats Come to Hide

Part 3

Alfred is the grandfather Damian always wanted even before he knew exactly what he could have.

Someone who was calm slow to anger someone who looked at him with pride and joy for everything he did.

In the deep reaches of his mind he compares him to Ra how he fixes the blanket he took with him from Talia. The same one Ra tried to burn oh so long ago. How he makes the food that he once sought so much comfort in when his mother would sneak it. The food that when he was caught earned him twelve lashes that his mother had to bandage later. He still bares the scars.

His grandfather who has killed yet Father still looks on without a question with love. His grandfather who much like him deals in secrets yet not with harm. The man who showed him the guns he keeps and that should anyone ever enter this manor Master Damain with the intent to do you harm I will use without question to protect my grandson.

Who on nights where father is just a little too harsh or when his brothers don't realize exactly how much they hurt he is welcomed to crawl in and be protected the first person to welcome him with open arms. The kitchen that carried Tofu and his favorites foods before he could even say what he liked. His grandfather his Pennyworth the one he proudly named his cat for.

Someone just as serious as he but pouring with love the man he inspires to be even more that Batman.

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔰 - 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔏𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔒𝔲𝔱

[dragon-business]

Majima and pocket circuit

I'm truly not over Kiryu super cautiously letting Majima get into the hobby that is so dear to him. There's something so weirdly tender about that. Forget bowling and host clubs, that's Kiryu's actual private life. Kiryu himself just started to reconnect with it after prison.

It was such a whiplash to realize that Majima actually is not about to ruin his last place of normalcy. Another whiplash will come later, when Kiryu will realise that Majima became part of his normalcy, too.

Everything concerning Kiryu's family is a matter of intrigues, drama, and all of it is public knowledge. But this? Kiryu's weird queer friends, company of people like Bacchus, heading a bunch of kids and modding pocket cars? This is, dare I say, intimate.

Nishiki never poked into that, just snorted a bit and let his bro have his little hobbies. He was always collecting stuff since kid days: rocks, keys, cards. Now it's tiny cars. Meh.

(They have separate interests and that's alright. They do spend quality time together too, apart from all the family things.)

(No Nishiki in Kiryu's life now, tho)

I mean, Nishiki let his bro have a private life like that without snooping there. After growing up in an orphanage, where privacy is nonexistent, that's quite important.

So, back in the days of 0 Kiryu probably low key tried to pull the date scenario on Fighter, but it didn't work out. Kiryu could not hit the combo, find the right dialogue options in time, couldn't make it all near and clear. He didn't even have a full grasp on how to go about it, or why he wanted to do it in the first place.

Tragically, Fighter didn't catch any of that as anything romantic. But making bentos for Kiryu was a killer move, ngl. Poor boy, pats for Kiryu.

And now Majima is having a similar problem with Kiryu himself.

He's secretly coming to the centre to train and race people. Well, not secretly, just on days Kiryu is busy. Majima is having his own adventures and substories and kid-drama there. Talks with Fighter are their own substory.

Weirdly enough, Majima bonds with Fighter a bit during test runs of the super snake car build and even gets some sort of advice about Kiryu. Fighter knows Kiryu for a long time and respects him, and the way he talks about Kiryu makes Majima both agree and raise eyebrows.

Majima mumbles something frustrated about not knowing how to approach Kiryu or not knowing what's in his head, and Fighter says something super inspiring, something he would've said to a little kid.

Something something, Kazuma-kun is kind and honest, and you don't need to be afraid to mess up, Goro-kun, he'll forgive you. And, yeah, he's super accepting too (here Fighter reminisces his own story about leaving pocket circuit for tofu business), and he's always willing to help. He's heart is so big, he's also a great friend of the kids, they adore him-

Majima: …you can stop now.

- Majima: Dang. There's really so much more to pocket circuit than I thought. Sure, I can beat Kiryu on track, but I doubt I'll ever be a part of this weird little space.

Meanwhile, a bunch of kids hanging on him: Goro-kuuuuun, come race us again! And, oh, show us that cool trick with a knife and a lighter! 

– before / navigation / next

[thelesbiancitizen]

oh weeeeoooo. killer tofu

[not-available-for-comment]

So I needed to use up an open carton of chicken broth and I also had some tofu I’d been planning to make crispy tofu with, so the obvious answer was ramen. But I don’t really like brothy soups and I generally try to eat buckwheat soba or very small amounts of western noodles in noodle dishes due to the diabetes. I also tend to like Vietnamese food so I was like fuck it let’s make a pale imitation of pho with soba noodles.

I need to go shopping so I have like nothing in the house, but I mix up the tofu and put it in the oven and then I put the stock on the stove to boil with some water (because I only had 2 cups stock). I try to remember what goes in pho or in ramen for that matter, and I’m very sad that I have no bean sprouts or cilantro in the house but I do have some very elderly carrots and some reasonably fresh garlic, so I matchstick the least pathetic carrots and thinly slice an enormous clove of garlic and add those to the simmering broth.

Then I sit down for a bit because I exploded my spine a few months ago and sometimes that means you sit down a lot.

When the tofu was ready to come out of the oven I set it out to cool and then added two bundles of soba to the broth because I didn’t want a ton of broth and I did want leftovers. (Mistake; should’ve just done one bundle. Oh well.) My green onions are even more pathetic than my carrots but I slice up the best bits and roughly chop a small handful of salted roasted peanuts.

When the soba’s cooked I take the broth off the heat, lift out as many noodles as I want, and ladle some broth over them. I add the scallions, the peanuts, a few dashes of fish sauce, a few dashes of soy sauce, and the juice of half a lime. I stir in a fistful or so of arugula until it’s partly wilted. (Because I think bitter greens go better with Asian food and that’s the one I have on hand.) I add a handful or so of roasted tofu. I realize a ramen egg would be killer with this but oh well too late to make one now. I dig a lemon ginger kombucha out of the fridge.

It is… almost unfairly good? I genuinely don’t understand how I made something this good out of the pathetic scrapings of my fridge. Aren’t you supposed to suffer for good food? (Whoa where did I learn to think like that?)

I am incapable of eating noodles like a sane adult, which is another reason why I don’t eat much ramen. I slurp them and I bite them and they make a mess and I generally look like a weird little noodle gremlin. But I don’t care. I MADE these and they’re GOOD. How did I do it? I don’t know. It has something to do with my girlfriend though. She can’t cook for me right now, but she cooks for me like she loves me, and it makes me want to cook like I love myself. I took a picture for her, see?

This recipe won’t win any awards. It’s not authentic. It would be better with sprouts, and cilantro, and a ramen egg. But it was good, and I made it myself, and I made it for myself, and I ate it. I’m proud of this recipe.

[gettinshiggywithit]

!love is a mystery;it is a crime!

pairing:- ranpo x reader x poe

genre:- attempted angst

honestly im not even sure if this good i just came up with it when i was half asleepp..

Edgar Alan Poe,the greatest mystery novelist of all time!

At least anyone would think he was

But to the man himself? He was nothing but an insecure little writer

He’d tried to best his rival,the absolute genius Ranpo Edagawa,since that fateful day during which they’d first crossed paths.

But nothing,absolutely NOTHING ever seemed to work

Not a story with only mass murders and serial killers and not a story that took him SIX YEARS of his life, to write

It was getting frustrating but poe still had a spark that just refused to die within him

Even karl was getting worried with the way his best human friend was over working himself but alas he was just a raccoon.he could neither talk sense into poe nor could he slap ranpo...

But one day,

With one glance

Poe felt that hunger to please,to prove himself,just lighten a bit

That day was the day he saw you

Beautiful as ever.buying some tofu from a shop he frequented

“Quick Karl,how do i look??” He asked his furry friend.to which the ring eyed creature relied with a little prrp

“Okay,im goin to talk to them!”

“Prrrppp”(translation:-YES POE YOUVE GOT THIS!)

He walked up to you and quickly snatched something up on the way,he couldnt just pop up near the counter and talk to you out of nowhere!!! You’d think he was a creeper!!!

Once he was at the counter he just looked at you,heat rising in his face, and said

“That brand of tofu is the best,its quite affordable too,its a mystery how they dont sell out!”

At the sudden introduction if a voice that was seemingly talking to you,you turned around to see the a man with bangs and a raccoon on his shoulder.

You didn’t really think he was weird,you thought the raccoon was kinda cute tbh!

“I know right! Its so good!!”

a moment of silence with the only sound being the sounds of the road outside and the cashier lady ringing up your other purchases,passes and you think to introduce yourself

“Oh im y/n btw!”

“Im- im edgar but my friends call me poe.”

“Ooooh so you’re poe??” You replied.

He was astonished!how did you know his namee?????

Were you an ability user too?? Perhaps a spy from the guild sent to find him??????

“Uh-you- uh,know me?” He asked,his hopes of mustering the courage to ask you out disintegrating before him by the second

“Of course i do! You were in the guild!”

He breathed a sigh of relief

You seemed to be a regular person

“Oh um yes! Im not that active with them now though..” he continued

“Ah...sorry to hear that i guess... would you like to come over to my office by the way?? We’re making a huge feast to celebrate our President’s birthday!

His heart began to skip beats upon BEATS at this

He MUST be dreaming because if he heard it right,YOU just asked HIM to join him for dinner?!?!?!

There was no way in hell that he’d pass up this opportunity!

“Sure! I mean as log as im not a being a bother...”

“Oh no don’t worry we’ll have plenty of food to eat!”

“Oh,is that what the tofu is for??” He asked curiously

You looked down at you hand at that and placed it quickly on the counter

“Nope~thats just for me”

After both you and he had paid and left,you started walking to your office

It was silent for a few seconds while you thought about what to say and then finally,

“Oh is that a raccoon ?? Whats his name??? Can i pet him please????”

This sudden outburst of questions caught him by surprise but he was happy that you were the one to break it

“Oh um yes,yes this is a raccoon,his name is Karl,and i dont think hes mind being petted no.”

“Ooh greatt!!” You said before starting to pet the livin Shit outta him

And funnily enough karl seemed to like it!

Once you arrived at the ada headquarters he was going to ask you if the office you were speaking about was the ada

But as your pace quickened he had to run a little to stay by your side

Once you were outside the door,he had his answer

And after a secret knock was perfomed by you(to make sure They dont accidently let President fukuzawa in and ruin the surprise.)the door opened to reveal the one that he knew as atsushi

You smiled at the boy and gave him a hug before running over to his rival and giving him an even tighter hug and a passionate kiss to add

It was at this moment that poe’s heart shattered

How could he have been so stupid! Of course someone as beautiful and amazing as you would be with ranpo

He cursed himself for falling so hard so obsceenely fast and when you brought ranpo over to introduce him,he plastered on a smile to hide the pain

Of course ranpo didnt notice,and even if he did he didn’t say anything

But You were actually surprised to find that they knew eachother

You babbled on about how you could now be a trio and ranpo asked him how his new novel was coming along

He smiled at your suggestions and the prospect if spending time with you and also let ranpo know about his new book

You then spent the night partying eating and enjoying yourselves(after President fukuzawa came ofcc)

All the while you had no idea that poe was trying to pick up the pieces of his broken heart

Love was a mystery indeed;but in that moment poe knew that it was also a crime

please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but these stories? mine.

feedback,likes,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!

Comments & Reblogs w/ tags >>>>>>>>>>>likes please

[terrence-silver]

What if that cobra husband scene in s4 the balcony kreese lifted terry shirt up and saw no tattoos and I know people would say he would feel hurt that Terry tried to erase him but for some reason I just think he would laugh and be like

“You really went all out,trying erase me guess the heterosexual vegan tofu life was not convincing you enough huh twig” then he just grab his neck all gentle,definitely trying trigger the tattoo parlor memory because i definitely feel like he call him twig just to get him back in line like I’m so sad we get didn’t get a twig line at all from older kreese or even in the 80s then he probably try to take him to go get the tattoo back on kidnapped him or something because no way in hell is terry erase him he won’t let him that tattoo was theirs and he going keep it even if kreese has to burn the stamp into his hip

Semper Fidelis.

―

-"You really went all out, huh?"-

John has to chuckle into his own chin once he goes for the surprise offensive and lifts the pristine white fabric of Terry's shirt having the man's fingers defensively grip the hem of the fabric within the same instant, pulling it back down and adjusting it the way it was with an expression of quiet chagrin. He removed the ink. Their ink. Until all that remained was a pink, gaping maw spread across his ribs like a perpetual bruise of scarred tissue. -"Whatever happened to Semper Fi? Always loyal?"- He has to ask, watching Terry, or Terrence as he prefered going by these days, all formal and full named, fidget in his own skin, arm leaning on the glass fencing of the balcony, knuckles white, party going on below in the courtyard. Chatter, laughter and a whole bunch of nothing. -"You left. You're the last person to talk about loyalty."- He seethes, mouth all twisted up and John shakes his head, because oh, how he misunderstood. -"Ain't about me."- He states, shrugging. Of course it was disappointing, though. It was disappointing to see a memento of memories and camaraderie erased like that, senselessly, but there was something else that irked John far more and he couldn't believe he had to explain, to Terry Silver of all people, what that something was. Guess some people needed reminders. Be told how things really were upfront. -"Can remove me all you want, Terrence, sure, it's a free country."- He almost snorts into his own chin saying that, utilizing the entirety of Terry's name as an insult, laced with mockery. What? Was inking not in fashion anymore? Was that it? Wont get any brownie points with the peanut gallery down below eating all the food in his house if he maintains an army memory visible on his skin? Was it 1970-something again? Will he get called a war criminal baby killer by a bunch of people slurping oysters and sea weed for brunch who never lifted anything heavier than a spoon in their collective lives?

-"But what that tattoo meant? Really meant?"-

John scoots closer, maintaining Terry's steady gaze.

-"Your service? Your creed?"-

Yeah, there was a note of judgement in his tone of voice and he could feel it pooling up in his own mouth like venom. You don't cease being a soldier, that was the thing. Your military past doesn't end just because your war is seen as controversial. No good and no fair anymore. You stick with it and you stick with it until the very end. You don't go cowardly and start burning your uniform, tossing away your medals and discarding of old platoon photos just because that's the convenient thing to do on the sly. -"Lying to those fine people down there that you never served and that there's not much to say about it?"- John could sense himself get pissed off just uttering that out loud, dousing his words like gasoline, in hefty amounts of sarcasm when he referred to the so called company of friends mingling on the lawn as 'fine', watching Terry front by keeping his chin up high, never shrugging away, almost spitefully, eyes haughty. Cold. Someone needed to wipe that smug, self contented expression off of his face for his own sake. And then, John decides to take that nail and really drill it in. Let it hurt somewhat. -"What? You scared of them finding out what war you fought in?"- He feels himself tilt his head, only to watch Terry's shoulders shift slightly, by about a millimeter. Ah, there it was --- suppressed discomfort. -"Doubt their kind likes your kind too much."- John states the obvious. He could wager his life on the fact that these snowflakes would ever sit on the beachside veranda of someone who fought in Vietnam, no matter how pretty the veranda or the view were. -"They don't like your kind either."- Terry immediately retorts, all ice and bitterness, thinking he's really doing something big with that statement, his shirt now perfectly tucked in and immaculately straight.

His kind? They were the same kind. Were, at least.

Terry was talking about them like they were a separate entity and not a unit.

It as John's responsibility, as this man's Captain, to remind him of that.

-"Good."-

John acquiesces, profoundly entertained. Good, they should hate him.

He hates them too.

Hated what Terry became too.

A man ashamed of himself can't be a man who likes himself in the first place.

What?

Was he going to blame the fact he loved his country back in the day on coke too?

John points at his own bicep for emphasis, hidden behind a jacket, and the fabric of his shirt, subsequently, the tattoo underneath it all, catching Terry's eyes follow the gesture. Regardless of the bad blood between them, removing army memorabilia tying you to your own service was like removing your wedding band flushing it down the toilet while still under your vow. Disowning your own children just because you divorced your spouse. The military was a sort of marriage. You put on that ring once and there ain't no taking it off anymore. That's the brotherhood of it all. If everyone could do it, go the distance with that sort of commitment, everyone schlub would serve. -"Cos my ink is still here, with or without you and that's where it's staying."- John assures because to him, those words, Semper Fi, were never just words. They were a way of living and he truly meant them. He spots the shade of something incomprehensible in Terry's eyes then, deep and dark and intense. Something he could only describe as sadness. As longing. Blanketed behind layers of bullshit. His cue to leave this shitshow. The drinks were bad, the food was something you feed rabbits on a farm, the company was laughable and the host was a coward with his balls in a vice by the looks of it. And yes, he deserved to be sad. He was sad because he's forsaken everything that ever mattered to him and John knew it weighed heavy on him. That he needed a wake up call like he needed air to breathe. He turns to leave, elbow leaving the comfort of the glass fence railing and the vista towards the open ocean, a long with pole fluttering a flag in the breeze. Was a real shocker Terry didn't have that removed too, as not to offend someone's lone sensibilities. Was that why he wore his hair down? Fear of being laughed at? -"I hope they don't like me. I don't live on opinions."- John adds leisurely on a final note, knowing he wont lose any sleep whether some tofu-chowing, freeloading beatnik hippie from England has a good impression of him or not, deciding to show himself out, ignoring the lobby boy that popped up from out of nowhere, stuttering, trying to find the right opportunity to escort him out once he deduced the boss's conversation with his guest as concluded. John knew Terry's eyes were pinned to his back even though he said nothing.

He could feel them.

Lingering like a bullet never fired.

-"Just surprised you do."-

John murmurs, leaving the sunlit terrace and Terry behind.

The party of people carries on below, echoing across the white beachfront wall.

[achy-boo]

Hideki Hisoki Tsukii

1. Neka

2. Neka

"An adopted son of the Tsukii Family. This boy is very secretive of what he does for a living."

"Those who had gain his trust learned the horrors he had faced growing up."

Trigger Warning: Near Death experience, near strangulation, child abuse, abusive parents

Full name: Hideki Hisoki Tsukii

Gender: Male

Age: in his early to mid 20s

Sexuality: He is bisexual

Species: Human but he does not act human

Personality: Hideki is something. He is very secretive and mysterious. He is very intimidating due to his aura and that look in his eyes. He had a hard time opening up to people due to his trauma. He is actually a gentle giant who does not like hurting anyone he loves but I will be very careful with him. He is known to be unpredictable when it came to certain days or events that trigger his trauma and he is always carried that bloodied machete.

Likes: Oddly enough isolation from his pasts, horror movies at 3am, tattoos, piercings, children, animals, sweet food, boba tea, blood moon, watching criminal discoveries, daydreaming, certain aesthetics, rain(bitch play in the rain), stormy weather, he likes tea and coffee only made by his loved ones, homecooked meals, late night driving, trying new food and drinks

Dislikes: bitter food, strangers interrupted his isolations, very large crowds, thinking about his dead parents, bright colors, he does not like traumacore, mentions of the incident involved him, He hates the heat, he does not like it when someone unknown to him touch his stuff without permission, being force to talk, not being able to daydream

Favorite Food: He is not very picky but he loves Kurayami's version of chicken katsu curry and Tsukii's version of onigiri and Unagi no Kabayaki

Least Favorite Food: He has two least favorite foods. Tofu and Natto

Pet Peeves: He hates it when a person tried to be invasive to his conversations with others, he hate it when liars tried to victimized themselves, over clingy people, pick me girls or boys

Hobbies: he plays a fiddle and saxophone, he loves to read and listen to music, he loves dancing and singing with his family(even though his voice is eerily enchanting and angelic, he just don't like singing in front of others)

Talents: [Second Pic]His uncovered eye glowed when he sense a lie(dimmed if he sense a half truth/half lie and normal if he sense a truth), both of his eyes will have no pupils if he went to kills, he is scarily sneaky killer and he knows how to cover up his tracks, he kinda acts like Jason Voorhees, Arlecchino and Diluc

Nickname(s): Kiki(Family only), Hidoki(Kurayami), little Hidey(Alekdama)

Voice Claims: Ehh. His voice is a combination of Diluc, Dottore and Ayato's voices(perfectly combine but its more..well.)

Trivia:

He was known as Shadow Slasher due to his kills happen at only nighttime

He was responsible of the murder and disappearance of his 'parents'

He was given a black mask from Tsukii to cover his mouth

He was horribly abuse by his biological parents growing up(He snapped when he nearly die by strangulation with a rope by his own biological mother)

He is one of the selective mute boys but he does talk

His voice is deep, husky and even raspy when he talks

His pet and familiar is a black dove named Crimson Autumn

He growls when he attacks someone

He was adopted into the Tsukii family at age 12

His birthday is February 19th(Pisces)

His slashes is like arlecchino and Diluc's but more violent

Fun Fact: His theme songs is The Haunting by Set it Off and Brainwash and Flesh both made by Simeon Curtis