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#i know it looks wonky
h0ney-bee69 · 1 year
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My human Donnie! She’s super swag and I like how this turned out <33
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machinerot · 3 months
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sbeana · 1 year
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the pool scene
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sableeira · 5 months
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You know how “the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” is used as an expression for love confessions? It’s said that Natsume Soseki came up with it after overhearing a student translate “I love you” to Japanese in a very literal sense. While there is no source confirming that this exchange actually happened, I still think a scene referencing the expression with Natsume randomly appearing would be hilarious
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efingart · 4 months
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Fixed it
Why yes I did order a pizza just so I could draw Gaz on the box 😅
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gummi-ships · 8 months
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Kingdom Hearts - Traverse Town
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bebewrites · 7 months
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wip page 08 - an all-inclusive wip page
preview / code
several people have asked for this one, so sorry it took me so long to release it!
featured image and sections for synopsis, themes/tags, links, project details, major characters, minor characters, and general sections like 'locations' and 'terms to know' which can be use for anything
footer section for additional info, but you can delete it if you don't want it
slide out menu with a second image, can be used for additional information or to feature an excerpt
pls like/reblog if you use, let me know if you run into any bugs, and pls don’t remove credit. thanks! ♥
additional info under the cut :)
if you'd like to change any of the icons, you can find more at phosphoricons.com
scripts are noted in the code so you can delete them if you want a javascript-free theme. without the javascript, the slide out menu will not work, just an fyi! delete the slide out menu at the top of the html section, and delete the script at the bottom of the code.
all images in preview via unplash.com. i recommend using unsplash or similar websites for images because they're free and high-res. (to create the character icons, i just crop the images into a square, upload into a tumblr post, save as a draft, and then right click the images for the url.)
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kaitobromota · 2 months
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[Blows the dust off this blog] Long time no see...
Back in the Danganronpa pits... have some silly doodles for an...AU? or like, slight canon divergence/missing scene? I got to chapter 5 in my THH replay and was thinking about the part where these four are alone in the gym dismantling Monokuma all night.
I know realistically it's supposed to be because they were paranoid and extra careful about taking it slow so nothing went wrong... but like... their alibi is from 10pm to 7am? In my heart of hearts it actually took the whole night because they kept getting distracted and chit-chatting and got into a bunch of shenanigans once the actual dismantling part was done. Like Byakuya says they went to the bathroom in pairs?? Not to mention you'd totally expect him to make a comment about how insufferable it was being stuck together for like nine hours. And Hina says they played rock paper scissors to decide who brought back breakfast???
You can't tell me they didn't bond at least a little bit. A friend pointed out it'd have the vibes of a 4am discord call and that's exactly it. Emotional confessions about personal fears and insecurities to dumb physiological debates that become inside jokes forever. Etc.
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gh0st-t0wn3 · 6 months
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This is one of the dumbest things I've ever made, but I heard the audio and had to do it
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yatsunote · 8 months
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tumblr only allowed 10 mb so i'm forced to size this gif down 😭
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flowercrowngods · 24 days
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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
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demigod-of-the-agni · 2 months
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kurunthokai, 168 — “what the hero said to his heart”
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coolbattlegirl · 1 month
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Didn’t intend to give any snippets anytime soon, but I’m just so proud of this 🥹💖
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toasteaa · 2 months
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Neuvillette is in love with the concept of love; he just never thought he'd experience the complexity of it himself. Or rather, he'd never thought you'd make him experience it like this.
Of course, that in itself is a rather broad concept. He's not unfeeling; he knows what certain aspects of love feel like, or at least, what humans around him have described as love. If you were to ask anyone that observes him with a human's eye, they'd tell you "Monsieur Neuvillette loves a lot of things".
"Monsieur Neuvillette loves the melusines, I always see him talking to them!" - not untrue, but not so much love as it is a general appreciation in his eyes. And much less the kind of love he has in mind. "Monsieur Neuvillette loves water the most! He has cabinets full of imported bottles in his office!" - elements of truth and fancy. A necessary (if a bit self indulgent) requirement for his continued health. You wouldn't go as far as to say you love air, would you? The concept is the same.
No, when Neuvillette thinks of love it's the kind he sees in couples on the streets of Fontaine. Hands held fast together, or a guiding hand in the small of one's back. Shy smiles and ruddy cheeks. Parted lips and gleaming eyes; a hopeful and expectant look before a kiss. The very image of romance that Lady Furina's novels would outline - novels that he's sure at this point, were left in his office by the former Archon in order to...guide him in a way.
And what poor guides those proved to be when it came to these...affections he has for you.
In those stories, it was simple. Understandable to an extent. The numerous versions and retellings of the same themes and tropes created a kind of cadence in his mind; an easy to digest pattern where one act of courting follows another in a beat-by-beat fashion. It's formulaic. An art perfected by years of practiced and perfected behaviors only menially guided by instinct.
Then why, Neuvillette often finds himself wondering, is it so difficult when it comes to applying that same formula to you?
Is it his tone? His behavior? Or has he made a general mistake with his leaps in assuming you might feel the same way as him? Your relationship with him is far less professional than when it started, yes, but that is the nature of working with someone long term. The expectation of professionality can only last so long, even with someone of his standing. This is something he's accustomed to. These developing feelings are not.
Even his attempts at more directly physical advances have proved unfruitful. If anything, the way you startled and stammered before returning to your work after he'd merely brushed a stray hair from your temple dissuaded him from ever attempting such a thing again.
And yet...the hint of heat in your cheeks at the action made him curious. Makes him...hopeful. If he was reading this correctly (and on his name as the Sovereign did he hope he was reading this correctly) then that could mean...well, it could imply mutual attraction.
Which has lead him to his current dilemma. He's spent days debating with himself, weighing his options, and attempting to reason that this warmth he feels around you is enough to allow him a brief break in his impartiality.
But then if he breaks here, where else would he break?
And would it be so wrong if he did? To pursue you, to court you, love you -
It stirs other emotions in him. Ones of excitement, of rage, of something deep and primal in his chest that has been buried deep after centuries of solitude - even amongst the people of Fontaine.
He wants this. He wants to experience this budding love in all its confusing facets. Wants to test the waters he's grown so accustomed to guarding and let himself feel something so innately alien to him. So...human.
Perhaps this is a trial left in place specifically for himself. To love and to be loved in return...it's almost enough to make him cry.
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turtleblogatlast · 3 months
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Feeling a lot of trans Leo feelings rn and I would like to reiterate how possible it is for him to not only be trans but also have no idea at all about it.
Okay so, he’s bigger than Donnie, particularly carapace wise, which tends to be the case when the slider is female and the softshell is male.
Second, his coloring. He retains the same coloring his whole life, even as a much older adult, so there’s another tick in the trans checklist, especially being that said coloring is noticeably bright.
His demeanor is also pretty at odds from most male red eared sliders - one example of this being when Bullhop was staying with them and Leo is noticeably less angered by him being both in their territory and in general than the others are - male red eared sliders would be way more combative here.
Like alone none of these are 100% definitive indicators but all together it makes perfect sense to me personally.
Now, how would it work for Leo to not know?
Okay, bear with me, but I like to think it’s because of Splinter’s (or rather, Lou Jitsu’s) genetics! As in, of course Leo wouldn’t assume otherwise, after all, his human self is very masc, including his lower voice and overall body type, so he and his family would have no reason to assume that he’s actually trans! But I personally like to think that it is because of Lou Jitsu’s DNA that Leo’s humanoid half turned out so masc in comparison to his more female aligning turtle half.
So yeah. Female red eared slider mutated with the DNA of a human man equals a turtle teen with no idea he’s trans (or potentially intersex.)
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holoscout · 4 months
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late morning breakfast and a puzzle for the internally challenged
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