#i got the worst headache

[thewokemachine]

IM FRICKING DYING AHHHHHHHHHHHH this headache is so painful ahhh 👎 also guys no freaking way it's Ivan Torre and the ink machine

[the-broken-pen]

Hiii, I love your writing! It's so great that you're back! Could you write something like two actors are playing hero/villain in a movie or theater, but both of them sometimes just gets too in character/or just gets too stuck in character, so for like moments they actually forget that they are just acting?

“You didn’t think I’d let you die by anyone else’s hand but mine, did you?” The villain cocked their head to the side, grinning.

Distantly, the hero registered the whispering of stage commands, but tuned it out.

“You can’t just kill anyone who threatens me,” they argued back. They watched as the villain’s grin sharpened.

“Watch me,” the villain whispered, stepping closer. Fake blood was drying on the side of the hero’s head, and it itched more than usual. Must be a new brand from costuming.

“I could arrest you,” they offered, but they let the hesitation show on their face. Visible enough for the camera to catch their unwillingness, no matter how fake it was. Good enough nobody could tell the difference between real and not.

“You won’t.”

The hero tipped one head to the side

“And why’s that?”

The hero shifted, leaning in towards the villain.

“Because you’re mine,” the villain whispered, tone playful as their eyes seared into the hero’s.

The hero’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t on purpose.

Something kindled in their chest.

“Oh yeah?”

The villain shrugged one shoulder in perfect time to the script, and the hero pulled the next line to the tip of their tongue—

“Prove it.”

That was not the next line.

That wasn’t a line at all.

The villain blinked just once, the only sign of surprise they would allow, before their grin widened. Their shoulders loosened into something feral, something that delighted in this change.

Something that belonged off-stage.

“I’m covered in the blood of the people who hurt you,” the villain’s voice was smooth sliding down the hero’s spine. They shivered. “What more proof do you want, love.”

They blushed furiously at the nickname, even underneath the stage makeup, and at the pleased look on the villain’s face, it was visible.

What was the line what was the line what—

Their hands fisted into the front of the villain’s costume, dragging them closer. The villain let them, hand settling on the hero’s waist in a movement far too smooth.

“I don’t know,” the hero murmured, and they were just as surprised as the villain when their lips hovered just over the other’s ear. “Why don’t you stop trying to kill me, for starters.”

The villain tugged them closer, and the hero’s eyes went to their lips.

The villain looked at the hero like they wanted to devour them.

Fuck, what had been the line—

“Oh, but you’re so pretty covered in blood, Hero,” the villain crooned, and the hero opened their mouth to say something, their tongue a separate entity from their brain at this point—

“Hold!” Someone off-stage called, and they both froze. A second later, they were halfway across the stage from one another. Slipping out of being the hero and back into being themself felt like hitting a brick wall.

If the way the villain shuddered was any indication, they had forgotten they were playing a character too.

The hero turned away to face the tech crew, hand settling over their face to hide their blush.

The villain’s gaze was molten and heavy on their shoulders, even from as far away as they were.

“I don’t think that’s in the blocking,” the stage manager frowned, flipping through the script.

None of that was the blocking. No matter how much the stage manager searched those pages they would never find those lines.

Fuck.

“Improv,” the hero choked out, flushing. “It was, uh. A creative choice—“

From behind one of the curtains, they heard a crew member snort, muttering something about teenage actors and horniness—

The villain was smirking, a wicked thing.

“Right,” the stage manager said slowly, brow furrowed from where they sat. They murmured something into their headset, eyes shifting up between the villain and the hero, before they slid a screen in front of themself.

Just barely, the hero could make out the shape of the scene they had just filmed.

The screen went black, the room silent for a moment, before the stage manager let out a long suffering sigh.

“We’re changing the blocking.”

“What?” The hero yelped.

The villain settled their hands into their pockets, unbothered and grinning.

“We’re keeping the scene,” the stage manager nodded towards their tablet, and the hero almost passed out on the spot. They watched the stage manager eye the pleased and possessive look on the villain’s face. “For now, though, let’s call it a wrap for the day.”

Shuffling began, lights flickering off, and the hero escaped to their own dressing room, panting slightly.

Dear god, they were so fucked. They had forgotten they were acting, again—

“Improv, hm?” The villain grinned, lock sliding into place. The hero hadn’t even heard them come in.

The hero groaned. “I don’t know what happened—“

“Yeah,” the villain nodded, and they were closer than they had been a moment ago.

The hero swallowed.

“I’m sorry.”

The villain raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

The hero waved one hand between them. “For, you know—“

The villain was still smiling.

It was then they remember who had fought so hard in the writers’ room for the villain and the hero to end up together.

‘Enemies to lovers,’ the villain had said, eyes dark. ‘The fans will love it. There’s been sub plot for the last two seasons.’

The directors had pushed back, but now—

Oh. The villain wasn’t mad.

They were pleased.

The hero choked.

“You,” the hero tried.

“Me,” the villain agreed, and then they were kissing, all-consuming and desperate.

They made a noise in the back of their throat, the villain twining their hand into the hero’s hair.

“You forgot you were acting,” the villain murmured against their lips, and kissed them again before the hero could defend themself. “That I’m not really your villain and you aren’t my hero.”

The villain settled the hero onto the counter, coming to stand between their legs, one hand on their hip.

“Fuck,” they gasped, and they could feel the villain’s grin against their skin.

“Mhm.”

Somehow, the hero’s arms had ended up looped over the villain’s shoulders.

“Maybe stop killing people, and I’ll consider it,” they said between breaths.

“What?” The villain pulled back slightly.

“The line I forgot,” the hero said. They could drown in the villain’s eyes, they were sure of it. “Maybe stop killing people—“

“Don’t care,” the villain bit out, and then their mouth was on the hero’s again and nothing else mattered.

Maybe they weren’t truly hero and villain—but god were they good at pretending.

Three months later, the internet couldn’t decide what was better—that finally, after years, the hero and villain had ended up together on screen; or that off stage, their actors were desperately, hopelessly in love too.

[mysteryboy1249]

Finally went and watched Zero Tea Time and like, how is this man still functioning at all??? If we're to assume that Furuya sleeps about 2 hours a night regularly, I'm sorry but this man would in no way shape or form be able to do what he does. - Sincerely, someone who has legitimately slept 3AM to 5AM regularly for several months due to having pre-existing sleep issues and a job that started at an ungodly time.

Like, yes I get that I shouldn't be thinking too deeply since anime logic, but also on this same schedule I felt like I was about to die by week 3 and was essentially a human zombie with my mental health down the sink by week 6(and technically I was sleeping more than 2 hours since I would take some naps as well) so I have some strong feelings about this. Hell, there's no way this man would be able to keep track of what time it is let alone all his jobs and secrets with that amount of sleep. Even if we go under the assumption that he sleeps 3-4 or even 4-5 hours usually and the 2 hours was a special case this man would still not be able to make all those deductions and chase all those criminals. Sure you won't feel as shit, but you definitely will still be feeling quite shit.

No wonder this man depressed and insane with a sprinkling of anger issues and seems to be constantly lowkey disassociating in Zero Tea Time. Yes most of it is because he's the only one left and is horribly traumatized but also like Furuya, have you considered taking a nap? It doesn't solve the trauma, but give yourself 8-10 hours of proper sleep and you'll be waking up ready to take on god.

As a side note, are there fics where Furuya is severely sleep deprived and how that impacts him? Because so far I haven't seen any but I also don't usually go out of my way to find Furuya centered fics. Because if there isn't I'll write one myself, not enough chronic sleep deprivation rep round here in general. Mans mother hens everyone around him, he deserves someone to mother hen him back to force him to sleep because the world will not in fact end if he takes some time off.

[quenthel]

A tadpole shared is a tadpole halved or whatever

[bonew3s]

chapter 42 spoilers 4 ftfo/ for the forgotten ones by Im_Sorry_Buddy under cut

GODthis whole chapetrt was such a rollercoaster of emotions !!! also ignore my wackass cartoonyundertale skeleton anatomy idk wtf i was doing there...

"Ink lay on his side in the endless white and stared at the black of the codes on his arms or the black covering his soul. It was better than staring at the white of his bones or back there. The black was like Nightmare’s body, Error’s bones, Cyan and Gold’s scales, Killer’s eye sockets, and the Xs on Cross’s clothes."

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

the first manned shuttle ever to launch into space- the vostok in 1961- had a space for the crew around 6 feet (2.3 m) in diameter. the first manned shuttle to carry three people at once- the voskhod in 1964- was practically the exact same size, and required the crew to forego spacesuits in order for all three of them to fit.

the death engine is... well. a hell of a lot bigger than either of them. we never get a picture of it in its entirety, but from what we see both in photographs as well as the visible space in person, the docking bay alone probably has more space than both of those ships combined. which makes sense, as it is a satellite and not exclusively a flight vessel.

... but the death engine still had a crew of three to man it for however long it was intended to be in immediate use. three people, solaris only being one of them.

as if that wasn't bad enough on its own, the other two assistants who tagged along weren't professionals, but intern astronauts- making it rather obvious why none of them survived as long as solaris herself did. before she discovers who the agent is, she assumes them to be equally as inexperienced right out of the gate (“Okay, lesson one of space internships: You need oxygen to live”).

from these two factors alone, we can assume that solaris would have been pulling over twice her weight around the satellite regardless of whether or not her assistants were alive, and only took on more responsibility after they were killed while on duty. that's already a huge mental strain and time investment in its own right. but that's not even all of it.

astronauts need to exercise for at least two hours if they don't want to suffer muscle or bone atrophy. as a result, they need to eat more calories than they normally would on earth. sodium intake also needs to be reduced (as the human body sheds less of it in space), and vitamin d intake needs to be increased (as it can not be generated from the sun). that means, perhaps rather obviously, that their diet is very important.

unfortunately for solaris, she is stuck eating the grotesque space slop.

not only does the food ration not include the recommended amount of essential vitamins, and include a self admittedly high amount of salt, but it is unclear what it even is supposed to be.

i can only hope that vitamin d happens to be a part of the 'some essential vitamins' included, since- considering there is zero orange juice located in the orange drink- there is probably none of it to be found in there.

this isn't even mentioning the importance of sleep on a spacecraft, partnered with how difficult it is to acquire in altered gravity. and partnering that up with solaris' poor diet, and the mountain of tasks she probably has to go through just to keep everything operational?

i clown on her a lot for 'doing nothing' while the agent was meddling with her things, but this entire time she's been overworked, underfed, and presumably doing all of that on a heavily fragmented sleep schedule.

no wonder she hasn't gotten around to clearing the radiation from the docking bay. no wonder she stayed in her chair the entire time. i would have gotten the call from zor and gone straight back to fucking bed!!!

[grian-daily]

im srry but some of u "singlets" be talking about characters in ways that make me scratch my head like are you SURE you're not plural. do you PROMISE *peeking inside your brain* you're positive??? like completely?

[erinsintra]

friendly reminder to stay hydrated!!! 水を飲む！！！TRINKEN SIE VIEL WASSER!!! BEBA ÁGUA CARALHO!!!

DRINK SOME FUCKING WATER YOUR DEHYDRATED BITCH YOUR BODY REQUIRES MOISTURE

[rewrite-canon]

me when sad media piece about romantic relationship: light work no reaction

me when sad media piece about sibling dynamic: oh. okay. its got a little kick.

me when sad media piece about child-parental figure dynamic: LET ME GET UP LET ME GET UP LET ME GET UP ELT MEGET UP ELT ME GET UP ELTMR FJETY UP LEGBR LE FEOT UP

[onyxstic]

HEY GUYS ITS ME BACK WITH ADULT ORION (crazed)

Ur gonna have to click for better rez I’m sorry 😭

WHYS THE IMAGE LOW QUALITY anyway tried my more “semi-realistic” style because idk.. 😭😭

Also extra 3 min sketch I did at 3 am

[mojimallow]

yknow the "i'll take care of you. it's rotten work. especially to me. especially if it's you. i'll do it but christ alive" bit. me rn wearing this lotion

[natjennie]

me: my sleep is really bad, without a cbd gummy I'm up until 4am, I was going to ask my psychiatrist for a sleep medication, but maybe you can prescribe one?

my doctor: ehh there's really no good medication for sleep, you're young and your systems are good at this, you'll bounce back.

me: 😐

[bunnihearted]

📓🖊️🧸

[morewyckedthanyou]

well time to go to bed early tonight i guess. i've been super tired for the whole day and now my tiredness has turned into a killer headache. feels like someone is continuously hitting my skull with a hammer. 🙃

[skyeateyourdonuts]

weeoo

[opisasodomite]

Happy last year of my 20s!