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[14dayswithyou]

hi hiii! I loveeee your blog sm I just wanted to say <33 And also I was just wondering — I’m not sure if you’re familiar with MHA, so if you’re not then dw about this^^ but if the main cast had quirks, then what types do you think they would have? + Do you think they’d go into pro hero work? I was thinking about it for renren and i felt like a quirk similar to toga would make sense (turning into people with their blood = changing his appearance/personality for angel?), but i wanted to hear ur thoughts!!

✦゜ANSWERED: I've never heard of MHA in my life (I've been married to mr Shigaraki Crusty Ass Tomura himself since the moment he showed up in the manga <3)

Ren "Quirkless", but pretends to be one of Pro Hero Haruko's biggest fans to appeal to you. But if you have a quirk/are are pro hero as well, then he'll devote his entire life to you instead.

[REDACTED] Glitch quirk. He's able to manipulate a small area around himself into whatever he wants — including himself and anyone caught inside it. Doesn't align himself with heroes or villains, but has the morals of the latter.

Moth Also quirkless, but dedicates most of their free time to running the #1 fanblog for Pro Hero Haruko. They'd love to work for his agency if it were possible, even as an intern.

Violet Prediction quirk. She can see the next 60 seconds of someone's future — but only if they inhale the scent coming from the flowers growing around her figure. A pro hero that's currently ranked #9.

Elanor (Un)lucky quirk. Something bad happens to her at the expense of giving someone else good luck. Usually involves small things like tripping over her feet or tearing her hero costume. Currently a sidekick to an unnamed pro hero in the hundreds.

Conan "Quirkless", but only because someone needs to run a library and it's definitely not going to be Teo. He won't admit to being something of a vigilante in his younger days.

Jae Water quirk. Anything he touches turns into a liquid form, which he can manipulate and control at will. It all goes back to normal after a certain amount of time though. An aspiring pro hero after Teo (unintentionally) saved his life when he was younger.

Leo Blood quirk. He can use his own blood to create bladed weapons or heal others even if they're not compatible. Became a pro hero alongside Jae and Teo, and is currently ranked #23 due to his selfless and protective nature.

Teo Glock quirk lmao. Calls himself "Hotshot" and goes around manifesting illegal firearms from thin air. He only made the top 10 because of his looks, flirtatious personality, and because he's a nepo baby whose parents were the #2 and #4 heroes.

[melonisopod]

Lifetime Stew is so much darker in hindsight.

Sinclair and Don Quixote both get it, and it’s specifically *Lust*, not *Gluttony*, despite being food-themed. (Although Gluttony in Limbus terms is basically Greed, and Lust very broadly refers to “desire” for things that aren’t material).

So, Lifetime Stew is based on the fable of Stone Soup, wherein a man managed to feed his whole village by bringing each together with a different ingredient, to make a soup that would last forever. He just kept telling each person in the town square, “All it needs is one more ingredient,” and everyone just kept adding to it. Is the gist of it.

Sinclair and Don have voice lines that more or less imply the same thing - the Abnormality (Basilisoup) just wants everyone to try its delicious soup! Cute, silly concept, right?

So what do Sinclair and Don Quixote have in common?

(SPOILERS beyond this point! You’ve been warned)

In Canto 3, Sinclair recalls that once his mother, father, and sister all received full-body prosthetics, they no longer had a need to eat. The table was set and food was placed only for him. It’s one of the things he found so especially heartbreaking, that he was the only one left in his family who could still eat food. It’s such a core memory that it’s plastered on the window-wall of his cell for his base E.G.O., four roboticized humans sitting at the table, with no food present.

He desperately misses getting to share meals with his family.

And in La ManchaLand, the Bloodfiends have been starved of blood for the past 200 years, barely sustaining themselves on hemobars that don’t satisfy them. They can *live* without subsisting on human blood, but they’re utterly miserable doing so. The only one of the First Kindred’s clan who escaped such a fate was of course, Sancho, though she’d long forgotten she is a Bloodfiend, Faust says she still craves blood. She’d been in effect, the only Bloodfiend allowed to sate her cravings, while the rest of her kin starved. Being the only Bloodfiend able to escape their fate was so traumatic for Sancho that she wanted to forget everything about herself.

In other words, Basilisoup/Lifetime Stew is about “the joy of sharing a meal with family,” something both Sinclair and Don Quixote desperately wish for.

KIM JIHOON WHEN I FUCKING GET YOU

[offbeateurobeatmiku]

how i felt going from g witch episode 11 to episode 12

[beebfreeb]

I don't think Senshi would play Cooking Mama. He would think it's a great game for the kids to have but it wouldn't appeal to him like the real thing. He wouldn't play any actual cooking sims, either. He would play Tetris and Candy Crush.

[xamnade]

the family

[theredviper]

DAVE JONES as HALSIN SILVERBOUGH

— Baldur's Gate 3 (2023), dev. Larian Studios

+ BONUS:

[basketobread]

another mini procreate doodle but this time its Lunara pre-surface 👀 not exactly canon (well idk yet) but still!!!!!! my poor sweet girl 💔

[flowercrowngods]

something so monstrous pt.2

(in which kas feeds from steve and triggers a bad migraine pt.2)

🤍🌷 read part 1 here this part gets really intense on the migraine. descriptions of immense pain, fever dreams, and vomiting, some body horror imagery bc pain can be fun like that

Time and space lose all meaning as Steve remains on the precipice of something that is too violent to be called sleep, but not harsh enough yet to be unconsciousness. Real sensations evade him as everything turns into pain immediately. Even the twitch of his finger becomes a thundering blaze of blinding pain shooting through his body and settling behind his eye until he is sure he will wake up blind. 

The fear of that is everpresent, the blind spots too real to ignore every time it goes like this, and he imagines how they will grow. He imagines how they get worse every time until one day the pain inside his skull will be so immense it will take his eyesight in exchange for alleviation.

And even though it is unbearable, he opens his eyes whenever he can, just to make sure he can see still. It’s an added veil of terror that covers him whole and consumes him slowly but continually. 

At some point he notices something cold and wet being placed over his eyes, adding another layer of darkness that is welcome, even if it leaves an imprint of pressure and sensation on his forehead that makes his skin tear around it, his skull cracking and caving in beneath the touch. 

And still it helps a little, pulling him further toward consciousness but not further toward the pain itself. But Steve can only whimper weakly in response, six feet under a thick cloud of cotton-filled smog that even turns breathing into a chore, polluting his lungs with fear and horror and agony without compare.

He does fall into a fitful sleep at some point, grateful for the short reprieve, but it does nothing to alleviate his exhaustion. 

It feels like his eyeballs are being pushed into his skull for what must be hours upon hours, and the pain is so unbearable, so horrible, that he's not at all surprised when nausea rises in his chest, his body responding to its current state with confusion and a hard-reset. 

Steve keens, trying to roll onto his side, groaning at the flares of pain shooting up into his skull and down into his limbs. They only worsen the nausea and it's pure instinct that gives him the strength to sit up. 

"Kas?” he whispers, swallowing thickly against another wave. "Bathroom?” 

Instead of giving him directions or pulling him up to drag him there, Kas wastes no time. He gets up off the floor, approaching him with shuffling steps once more, and gently but quickly lifts Steve off the bed in a hold — firm, yet gentle — that brings another sting of tears to Steve's eyes. Pain and vulnerability and the need for everything to be over. That’s what makes him cry.

Still he manages to hold on, his head rolling onto Kas's shoulder, the skin of his neck blissfully cool against Steve’s overheated forehead pressing into him. 

Make it stop, he thinks. Longs. Aches. It’s supposed to be over. It’s all supposed to be over now. 

He whimpers again, and imagines that Kas is the one to softly shush him this time.

The coolness of Kas's neck is gone all too soon as the vampire sets Steve on the hard, uncomfortable bathroom floor. He doesn't go far, though, crouching down beside him and holding him up over the toilet. Steve can't see anything, but still he’s grateful that Kas left the lights off, the bathroom tinged in the same darkness as his bedroom. 

Pathetically, Steve rests his forehead on the toilet seat, chasing the coldness of it as pain and nausea reach their peak. It’s disgusting, but be’s not strong enough to care. A whine breaks from him, and he wishes Kas would leave. Even though the cold hand on his neck feels good, and even though he knows he wouldn't be able to hold himself up right now. 

I'm not weak, he wants to say. And maybe he does. But he can't recognise his own voice right now. 

"Not weak, maybe, but pathetic." 

No. 

"You know you are." 

Shut up. Go away. 

It doesn't make sense for Mr Munson to suddenly be here with them, to stand in the doorway and watch his nephew, who is more monster than human these days, holding up the pathetic form of Steve, who is more pain than human. More smoke than human. More vulnerable weakness than remotely human.

Go away. Eddie? I want him to go away. Tell— Go ‘way. 

The hand wanders, pulling Steve against cool skin again so his forehead rests against the toilet no longer, basking in the cold touch and the warmth of a body to hold him. 

"Safe," Kas says, and Steve wants to badly to believe him. Wants Wayne to leave, wants everyone to leave and just let him suffer in silence and solitude like always. 

Wayne starts talking again, but Steve can't hear him this time as he suddenly heaves and retches, throwing up what little he had to eat today. Over and over and over.

It goes like this for a long time. He has no idea how long. Has no idea where he even is anymore. 

The world tilts a few times when he loses his grip, his arms buckling, his hands spasming and giving out, and still he never falls. Only ever feels the cold, damp skin of Kas’s neck. 

Kas has to carry him to bed when he's done and on the brink of passing out again, and Steve doesn’t mind this time. Kas also hands him a glass of water or two before pushing him back to lie down again. That’s nice. 

The wet cloth returns, and Steve isn't aware of his surroundings for much more after that.

—— 

The next time Steve comes to, he feels like he was freshly dragged through Lover’s Lake until his lungs gave out. His head is pulsing violently, his senses are sluggish and everything feels foggy. He has no idea where he is, the room pitch black around him as he lifts a lukewarm damp cloth from his eyes. 

A soft groan falls from his lips as he stretches his aching, cramped limbs, rubbing his hands over his face and regaining the feeling in his body. Little pinpricks of phantom pain shoot through him, his mouth tastes like ash and his head protests rather violently against his pathetic attempt at sitting up. 

He is disoriented and something about his vision is still messed up, something in the depths of the room not quite right and leaving him with a dizziness he can’t quite shake, followed by a wave of anxiety that something’s wrong with his eyes. 

He blinks. Blinks again, finding more things in the strange room as he does, his sluggish brain slowly catching up and filling in the blanks.

It all comes back to him like a tidal wave when he suddenly finds himself blinking at a pair of red eyes, softly glowing and wide open. 

“Kas,” he croaks, his throat absolutely parched. 

One second he’s wincing at that, the next he finds a cool glass of water pressed into his hands before the eyes and the shadowy form they belong to retreat to the foot of the bed again. 

 “Thanks,” he murmurs, stalling as he takes a sip. Embarrassment rises in him, but he doesn’t want to apologise. The thought of that somehow makes the vulnerability that much worse, so he tries to ignore it. It’ll all be fine if they simply not acknowledge it. 

He wants to ask for the time instead, wants to know how much the migraine took from him this time, but he knows Kas doesn’t really understand the concept of it all, let alone know the numbers. 

A silence settles between them and it’s somewhere between welcome and uncomfortable. Just like everything that happens in Hawkins. It makes Steve feel like a ghost again, but this time he’s a ghost in the room, not just in his own head. He’s the one who’s out of place.

With a little sigh, he places the glass on the makeshift nightstand again and falls over onto his side. His head is mad at him for it, still feeling too fragile for sudden movements, but lying down feels better than sitting.

There’s a huff from Kas that sounds more amused than derisive, so Steve looks at him. Looks at the shimmer in those eyes before closing his own again, not wanting to be looked at right now. Not wanting to face it.

“You,” Kas says then, his voice quiet and without the edge of that animalistic growl. The sound of someone who’s not meant to speak at all. The souvenir of someone who was human once before Evil grabbed him and modified him to His liking. 

“Me,” Steve says, an automatic response, just as quiet. He’s listening. 

“How… How are…” Kas struggles, huffing in frustration at the words that refuse to come, but still it’s the most coherent Steve has ever heard him. It makes him sit up half way again; leaning his weight on one arm to focus all his foggy and cloudy attention on the vampire trying to ask him how he is feeling. 

No more words come, though, the question half finished in the air between them. But somehow it makes Steve smile. Just a little bit. This feels important. And huge.

“My head hurts,” he answers truthfully, amused when Kas’s eyes snap back to his. To search them. To communicate something.

“Hurts?” 

“Yeah. It will, for a while. Always does. Nothing to do about it, really.” He wishes he felt as indifferent to it as he sounds, but that’s just the tiredness clouding his tone. It’s fast approaching now that he knows he’s relatively safe. Now that he knows he can rest. His arm gives out and he slides, slowly this time, back to lie on the pillow. “But it’s not as bad. And the other pain is gone, so…” 

So. He could go home now. He should, probably. Ignoring the weakness in his bones and the exhaustion in his every fiber. If he closed his eyes again right now, he could fall asleep. Still, maybe he should—

“Stay,” Kas says again, and Steve really should have figured. He’s not quite well enough to really fight him on that, though, so he shrugs. 

“Fine,” he mumbles into the pillow, halfway back to slumberland already. 

There’s movement on the foot of the bed, and before he knows it Kas has tucked him in again, draped across the pillows as he is. It’s still unreal, that, but Steve won’t complain. What’s even more unreal, though, is the image Steve gets of Kas curling up by the foot of the bed in a similar position. As if he still means to keep watch. 

It’s ridiculous. A little weird. And sort of endearing.

——

The next time Steve wakes, everything around him is a little brighter, daylight fighting weakly to fill the room, but it stands no chance against the large wooden planks and thick curtains meant to block it out permanently. 

He blinks away the heaviness, taking stock of his body. There is a crick in his neck and burgeoning cramps in his side and hip from the position he’s still in, and this head still is a pulsing, aching mess — but no more than usual. 

He taps the pads of his fingers to his thumb before flexing his hands. Only then does he stretch the rest of his body and announce his wakefulness. 

Opposite him, at the foot of the bed, Kas is already awake and still in the same position that Steve saw him last. Did he even sleep? Does he need that? Or has he just been staring at Steve, watching him, ready to carry him to the bathroom again for round two. 

The thought of that makes his skin crawl.

“Hi,” he says to fill the silence that is all too inviting for his spiralling mind.

Kas grunts, but it sounds more like a hum. Sort of gentle around the edges. He doesn’t move, doesn’t seem at all fazed that they’re just kind of staring at each other. Steve swallows, not really sure how to go from here.

He fists the blanket and rubs the linen bedding between his fingers, feels the rough fabric catching on the callouses along his hands as uncomfortable seconds tick by. Still Kas doesn’t move. 

“Listen, man,” Steve says at last, thinking back to yesterday’s events and the vampire’s sudden care. “Thanks, alright? What you did, that was, uh. That was nice. You didn’t have to do any of that.” 

Another hum, and it occurs to Steve that Kas is back in his normal state, retreated back into his mind, hiding from the world himself now that it no longer needs him. It’s a strange thought, that Steve being hurt would be what brings him back. If at all. Maybe he’s reading it all wrong. Maybe it as just a coincidence, or maybe Kas tasted something in his blood that made him want to improve Steve’s physical state for selfish purposes. That’s probably more likely.

But it makes him feel even more wrong-footed than before, and it leaves him hyper-aware of the situation. Of their dynamic. Indifference and annoyance and… He doesn’t want it to change, doesn’t want some kind of debt between himself and Kas — especially not when Kas has no means to really settle it. But he also can’t feign some kind of gratitude when what he feels the most is mortification and embarrassment; and he sure as hell doesn’t want Kas to know that either. 

So he throws back the blanket and gets out of the bed, a little dizzy at first, but he doesn’t care as he slips into his shoes and hurries out of the room. 

He just wants to leave. Get out of here and go home, go back to bed and get over the mortification of having been seen like this. Of having been taken care of. By someone who doesn’t even like him. By someone who hissed and snapped at him one moment and then carried him to the bathroom the next. 

“It looks like there’s nothing human left in him, but we do have data that suggest otherwise.” Owens’s words echo through his mind as he crosses the living room. “It seems to be in hiding, the Munson part of him; that’s our hope at least. That you can get him back out one day, make him win over the vampire part. It could be like a self defence mechanism, I guess. We hope he can still be coaxed back into the land of the living. How, though, we don’t know.”

Was this what happened? Has Steve’s weakness triggered the human part of Kas’s tortured brain to take over? No, that can’t be. 

It seems unreal. Unlikely. Wayne telling him stories or Dustin talking about their campaign, that should have helped. Even Mike playing the guitar, or Robin rambling about something or other; all of that was much more close to who Munson was. Or used to be. Eddie Munson never struck Steve as someone who took care of people naturally. Someone who stepped in. He stepped up, sure, but only ever for the wrong reasons. 

It makes no sense. So it must be wrong; just Steve’s exhausted brain grasping at straws. It usually does that, anyway. Nobody knows if Eddie is even still in there. Part of Steve hopes he’s not. 

Just as he reaches for the front door, ready to just get out of here and pretend like nothing happened, he feels a presence behind him. Kas followed him out of the bedroom, standing in the doorway now with an unreadable expression. It's the blank one he usually takes on, but where before it was normal, it throws Steve off now. Maybe because he saw how Kas can look at him. How expressive his eyes can get.

He holds them, the red shimmer a little dimmer out here in the brighter living room. 

And maybe it's the blankness in those eyes, or the lack of judgment in Kas's every action, but whatever it is, it makes Steve let go of the door and turn to face Kas properly. 

"Why'd you do it?"

The vampire inclines his head. Listening. Always listening. Steve doesn't know how he never noticed that. It seemed so primitive before. Like how a dog will react to its owner speaking, but never process the words. Kas processes, though. So Steve keeps going.

"Why'd you... You kept saying that word. Safe. Do you, uh. Do you know what it means?" 

Slowly, his eyes growing a little less blank, Kas nods. 

Steve looks around the cabin, swallowing thickly, still feeling so out of place in here, still feeling the need to run and leave it far behind. But something makes him stay. Makes him want to understand. 

"You wanted me to feel safe?" Again, Kas nods. "Why?" 

There is hesitation there, and Steve wonders if it's because he doesn't want to tell him, if he doesn't know the answer, or if he doesn't know how to answer. It's a loaded question, maybe. 

"Pain," he says at last, his voice barely discernible from a growl, but somehow Steve seems attuned to it now. Maybe because he listens now. Because he wants to know. To understand. 

He waits, watching as Kas struggles for more words once more. Just like last night. 

"Know... Know... pain. Know.” He taps his temple with a clawed hand, and Steve's heart falls, his chest aching with realisation. 

Right. He would. He would know pain like that. If what the doc says is right, if what Vecna taunted them with is right, if every working theory the kids have is right, then… yeah. Kas would know. He’s know something about pain. More than any of them. Pain so intense it splits you apart from yourself. 

"Shit," Steve whispers more to himself than to the room, crossing his arms in front of his chest to hug himself and keep from digging deeper, keep his heart from falling further, and keep the horror at bay. 

He doesn't want to imagine the kind of torture Kas went through. Is still going through, if what the doctors say has even more truth to it. If Munson is still in there, still suffering because human minds have a way of holding on to pain — Steve knows soemthing about that, too. 

"I'm sorry," he offers. It's all he can offer. In the end, it’s all that’s left.

And still it's so lame. It's not enough. 

But Kas just nods again, a pained shadow of a smile appearing on his face. Something transpires between them in that moment, Steve can feel it, but he can't really define it. Maybe some kind of understanding. Some kind of safety. 

"I gotta..." he starts, motioning to the door behind him. "I gotta go. Will you be fine? Did you have enough, y'know, to drink?" 

Another nod, and the smile widens a little. Looks a little less pained this time. 

"Good," Steve says, stuffing his hands into his pockets, lifting his shoulders to his ears, trying and failing to seem casual in the face of those glowing eyes. "I’ll– I'll see you around, yeah?" 

And then he's out the door, his head spinning and aching, his steps heavy with the weight of whatever has changed between him and Kas in the past twenty-four hours. 

... sooo. part 3 anyone?

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently) 🤍 tagging for this work only: @forestnymph-666 @little-trash-ghost @jupitersgonemissing

[foccaccia]

Day 18, Judgement, for Wyllstravaganza2024! Please open image for better quality, etc etc.

[zondearts]

Drew Leoneed from @a-crowcats-nonsense Furry!au

I do plan on drawing everyone, but L/n comes first, so erm, the band sillies.

[ghostcupdraws]

Blissful silence (he’s taking a yapping break)

[14dayswithyou]

Ren's favourite letter is S! How would REDCATED, Teo n Olivia be like on a plane flight?:0 would they try and sleep, watch the in flight stuff or smth else!

⌞♥⌝ hehe :3 Got a bit silly with this one

[REDACTED]

Rawdogs the entire flight — but only because Angel is next to them. He doesn't want to waste his time sleeping or watching movies when it could be better spent by looking at Angel and watching them sleep instead. He'll upgrade their seats to first class if that's something Angel would want, and he'd happily offer to give them the window seat if they so much as glance in that direction. [REDACTED] also steals keeps Angel's pillow, blanket, toothbrush, etc., after the flight.

Teo

Assuming he's sitting in first class and not using his private jet, Teo would likely spend the entire flight scrolling through his phone and blatantly ignoring Angel's ping request to play Battleship with him. If you let him stew in silence for a few hours, he'll eventually grow bored and consider the idea of visiting you in economy class. At best, he'll do it to cause a commotion, get the opportunity to kick someone out of their seat (for the hell of it), and sit next to Angel so that he can annoy them even more than usual.

Olivia

Realistically, she'll want to put on her headphones, listen to her personally curated plane playlist, and try to catch the eye of her Designated Airport Crush™️. But I like to think that if she were travelling with Angel, then she'd probably want to sync up a movie so they can both live react at the same time instead. If Teo was on the plane as well, then sorry to say but Liv would be begging him to upgrade her to first class and probably wouldn't give Angel a second thought T_T

[dognonsense]

I can't think of any disability patch ideas. Like there's the basic "Disability Pride" or maybe just "crippled Punk" but I feel like those are too soft when placed next to "punch Nazis" and "rather a Faggot than a fascist" you know. Any ideas?

time to go use my punk disabled bestie roommate whos an ambulatory wheelchair user for ideas

'Ill run u over' if ur mobility aid has wheels

Paint two canes crossed like swords 'ill smack a bitch' or smth about hitting bitches

'tired but angry' for hidden disabilities because hidden disability ppl be tired

'Your ableism is exhausting' they were so proud and went wow aliteration both of those start with a's. upset telling them thats not how its spelled lmaooo

[zincfingermotif]

three cheers for amuro's birthday

[beebfreeb]

I am just hanging out and being regular.

[housecow]

the difference between these two 🥺 both??

funny story though. my roommate is still taking food but my memory is so bad when it comes to things i don’t eat myself (adhd)

when i talk to friends and family about the situation the first thing they ask is, “are you sure you’re not sleep eating?” which is adorable. they wanna believe, even if for a second, that maybe i’m not truly at fault for making myself into such a cow 🥺 i get it bc im getting very fat even with the thievery but at the same time. im literally being gaslit