#I wanted to do more but god help me I do not feel like drawing another ref
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squinch-depraved · 1 day ago
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Bro PLZ write something about teds mustache PLZ🙏
here u go short while i work on other stuffs
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"i promise you you aren't too heavy, please sit on my face," ted begged.
"your mustache is gonna feel so weird though!!" excuses. to tell the truth, he just made you really nervous. you honestly didn't expect that mentioning that you had never been eaten out to your best friend would land you in this situation. "i dunno, ted..."
"c'mon, please trust me. i promise we can stop if you don't like it but i wanna try to make you feel good at least once. please?" he made that stupid face that gets him whatever he wants and leaned back on to his couch, resting his head flat on a pillow and patting his chest for you to hop on.
with a scoff, you rolled your eyes and started to climb onto him, but he stopped you and pointed to your pants.
"off," he instructed simply. his bossiness left a damp spot in your panties once you slowly, carefully removed them, folding both them and your pants and setting them on the coffee table. "there we go." you could hear the grin in his voice before you spun back around to glare at him.
"you're so annoying, you know that?"
"you love me."
he wasn't wrong. in what way, you weren't sure, but you did love your best friend.
"hop on!" he waved you over, intertwining his fingers with yours when you straddled his chest. "my face is up here," he joked when you hesitated.
"oh my god, fine, i'll sit on your face if it'll shut you up," you teased, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. ted, who couldn't stop smiling, helped you scoot forward until you were hovering over his face. once he had a clear view of your wet hole, he groaned and wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you down and holding you tight while you squirmed.
his tongue worked deftly in and out of your cunt, flicking and swirling around your sensitive bud and drawing frantic wails from you. you had never felt anything so pleasurable; everything he was doing was sending white hot electricity straight to your core.
"teddy, fuck!!" you screamed, bucking your hips furiously on his face. his mustache provided just the right stimulation, brushing against your thighs when he pulled his mouth away from your pussy to plant sloppy kisses everywhere. "feels so good..." you trailed off.
he moaned into your folds as he slid his tongue back in you, the vibrations causing your legs to tremble.
"ted, please, you're so good, so good to me, fuck! why did you wanna- nghh, do this so bad?" your voice was shaky, and he pulled away with a lewd noise to answer your question.
"because i think you deserve to feel good. this doesn't have to be anything more than two friends helping each other, if you don't want it to be. just, shut up and let me taste you, please?" he bargained, brushing his mustache along your skin to soothe you.
"how am i helping you?" you asked, puzzled.
"you think i'm not gonna get off to this for like, the rest of my life?" he chuckled, pulling your cunt back to his mouth. staring down at him made your stomach flip- the way his hazel eyes peered up at you as he worked his mouth was intoxicating.
"teddy, i think i'm close," you whined, rolling your hips forward. his grip on your thighs tightened as he furrowed his brows and began eating you faster, sloppy noises filling the room. letting out a constant string of moans and swears as you tossed your head back, you let him devour you and arched your back.
he guided you through your orgasm, grunting when you began to claw at his arms where they were holding you down. he overstimulated you just a tad, unable to resist his cruel desires, not knowing if he would get to do this again. once you rode out your high, you scrambled backwards off of him, panting, and collapsed onto the couch.
"was that good?" he asked nervously, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. you couldn't form words yet, but nodded solemnly. smiling, he rose from his seat and walked to the kitchen, returning with a water bottle, which you accepted gratefully.
"can we do that again?" you asked quietly once he sat back down.
"uh. yeah, if you really want to," ted offered, scratching the back of his neck.
pulling him in for a deep kiss, you grinned at the faint taste of yourself still on his lips. his mustache tickled your upper lip as the kiss deepened, and soon he was on top of you, kissing between your thighs and enjoying every noise that spilled from your lips.
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hitlikehammers · 9 hours ago
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the light behind your eyes (steddie timeloop; pre-bat attack🦇)
feat. Eddie falling hard and fast when Steve's had innumerable loops to have already fallen ✨🖤✨
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“Not that I am not, hmmmm,” and he can barely bite back a moan; “not that’s I’m not fucking ecstatic, Harrington,” Eddie mouths against the lips on his, and he means it, too, he is in fucking heaven right now because not only is the hottest guy Eddie’s ever seen in real life and probably also in, like, magazines and stuff too: that guy is kissing him, touching him, running hands up under his shit and teasing his waistband, rutting a little against his thigh but…he’s doing it almost like it’s routine, like it’s not quite desperate, or not just desperate, expect for the touch of it and so no, Eddie doesn’t have to understand it at all for him to not be fucking complaining in the slightest—
Save that pointing out that he isn’t complaining stops Harrington’s hands on his body cold, freezes the lips pressed against him mid-suck and then they pull back, and Eddie’s panting so hard it burns, and he wants to whine, he’s only just learned the taste of this man but he wants more, it’s like he’s addicted already but then kinda like he always has been, like the deepest cells of him, the mitochondria from the textbooks he didn’t fucking read: it’s like it all knows the shape of this body, the flavor, and—
And that’s fucking ridiculous, but when Harrington pulls away?
Eddie kinda feels like the world’s ending.
And it is ending, in a way. Interdimensional madmen serial killers and all that, but.
This is different.
“Steve.”
Eddie frowns and can’t help but reach, frame Steve’s face even as Steve tries to shy away but still leans into the touch, and Eddie doesn’t understand; not least how Steve sounds so fucking shattered around his own goddamn name—
“Can you,” and Steve’s breathing heaves, shudders: the kind that lives between sobs but Steve’s cheeks are dry under Eddie’s palms and that almost feels all the more heartbreaking:
“I know it feels like you barely know me but,” and Steve blinks so fast, then he’s scrunching his eyes so tight and that, that might be why his cheeks are dry and oh: this is it. He thought before but:
This is the heartbreaking thing.
“Could you call me Steve? Please?”
And god, good fucking god but he asks it so small. It’s pleading and kinda edged in something desperate but here, from this titan of a man Eddie’s seen anew just these past days, this warrior barbarian his sheepies sand the praises of, this paladin out of the shadows come to save them all: he’s so small.
Eddie’s hands don’t move from Steve’s face, just draw him closer, upward on instinct until their brows touch, until Eddie can breathe in every shaky exhale that spills forth.
“Steve,” and maybe Eddie doesn’t quite understand the why, here, but he sure as shit savors the shape of that name on his tongue anyway, fucking sue him; “not that every single fucking version of my gay little fantasies aren’t dancing like they’re at queer fucking prom,” and he pauses, because he expects Steve to snort, maybe, expects to lighten the moment so charged, and not just with the kind of tension that tightens Eddie’s jeans—and Steve does make a sound for Eddie’s stupid little not-quite-joke, but it’s not a chuckle.
It’s a moan—but not the good kind. The kind that means pain.
And it’s almost worrisome, how when Eddie pulls Steve closer, he doesn’t fight it one bit; leans in almost…not even greedy. Almost fucking anguished.
“But this is just because it’s the end of the world, right?” Eddie makes himself ask, because too many things don’t add up, not least how Steve doesn’t even try to pull away, barely moves at all save just to breathe, and just to press closer into the crook of Eddie’s neck to do it.
“It’s just because I’m a wanted man whether it’s the cops, or the feds, or that fucker with the clock and the music,” Eddie rambles; doesn’t move his hand where it’s slipped to the side of Steve’s neck like an intimacy, though, doesn’t even consider shifting a fucking centimeter away from the heavy pulse of life surging under his palm. “Like, I mean, whether it’s 20-to-life or an electric chair or the bats—“
It’s the way the chest against him shudders that trips him up; not least to realize how close they are, that they’ve gotten, that Steve’s heartbeat’s something he can tease out without effort at all there, too, and…
Eddie glances up a little further to see Steve staring at the ceiling of the trailer, eyes glistening, the effort not to fucking cry evident as anything and, just, like…
What the fuck?
“Steve?” Eddie hedges a little, gentles his voice further because even though he doesn’t let a single tear fall, just seeing this man so close to it, while staying so close to Eddie, it’s, he just…
He can’t even try to lighten the moment, can’t even push didn’t realize I was that bad of a kisser, fuck past his lips.
“Give me a minute,” Steve doesn’t even rasp, just says even but so so quiet, and again, just so so small. It’s…
It’s not even heartbreaking anymore. Eddie’s whole chest just fucking hurts.
“You okay?” Eddie ventures after what has to be more than a literal minute; when Steve stops staring at the ceiling but screws his eyes close tight again to pull creases at their corners, between his brows; and Eddie whispers the question when he even dares to speak at all because something in this moment feels…fragile. Sacred in some way, even if he can’t name how or why. He waits, and Steve doesn’t move, barely breathes for the longest time so much it starts to kindle real fear in Eddie’s chest, so it’s only once Steve half-gasps and gets back to his lungs working like Eddie wants them to, once that holds for a while and Eddie understands that the closest to an answer that he’s going to get—he lets Steve breathe, and lets the feeling of it calm Eddie down, too, before he does the stupidest, most selfish fucking thing and asks, again:
“What is this, though?”
The way Steve sucks in his breath at the words cuts Eddie sharp; he shouldn’t have said anything. He should have let this lie and just…enjoyed a little bit of impossibility at the end of the world that wasn’t a bad thing.
He thinks maybe that’s what pushed him over, though, and made his tongue move, to shape the question at all: it’s so fucking far from a bad thing that it’s…it makes too much lightness in Eddie that he’s never felt before. Even in the absolute shit of this entire situation, Eddie’s basically nonexistent future on the horizon if he manages somehow to make it out of the next 48 hours alive: this is something that makes him feel like he could hope.
Hope even for the most absolutely absurd fucking things.
And hope like that has to make anyone fucking selfish.
“This?” Steve glances indicatively between them, with a quirked brow that he pulls off perfectly but it can’t land like it should, not for Eddie who’s just watched this gorgeous human swallow the stages of grief whole where he’s…he’s pulled back, Eddie realizes, Eddie can’t feel him chest-to-chest anymore and the idea of it’s a crushing thing, but it’s got nothing on the reality—either way, though, he’s hovering over Eddie now, still close, likely has been for a while and…and shit: his arms hadn’t even given out.
What the fuck kind of…superhuman stuff is this man made of?
“Thought it was obvious,” Steve chuckles, and that part, that sound rings hollow: Eddie’s had enough of a latent-forever crush on this boy for enough years to maybe have never heard this kind of chuckle but, it’s off. Eddie knows it’s not…what it should be.
Steve laughing is some kind of sunshine, nearly always, like a rule. Eddie knows that much.
“Must have lost my charm,” Steve grimaces while he looks down, down, hides from...Eddie doesn’t know what from, exactly. Save that whatever it is, he wants to hide a little, too.
But hiding, now, means that he’ll turn from Steve. And Eddie…Eddie wants to hide from the nameless horrible thing that’s swelling up in the space around them.
But Eddie doesn’t want to miss a second of Steve. He’s kind of afraid of the very concept of it, missing any…part of Steve. He knows they’re on borrowed time. He’s also not entirely sure this isn’t all of fever dream, maybe he got scraped by one of the nasty-ass rusted nails in the boathouse and all of this is just tetanus or some shit. Maybe it’s the X-Men-knockoff wizard fucking with Eddie’s head by giving him the unthinkable sort of thing he’s always wanted.
Whatever it is: Eddie cannot miss a second of it.
“This, yeah,” Eddie reaches to brush Steve’s chest where his heart’s still pounding, even when it’s not presses flush to Eddie’s anymore, even when they’e stopped kissing too many minutes ago for an excuse; “you more that live up to the hype, big boy,” Eddie chuckles a little, tries to make it warm, fucking grateful; “exceed it even,” Eddie adds, can’t help but splay his fingers and stroke up and down a little over the street of Steve’s shirt.
“But,” because Eddie’s selfish. Because touching Steve slow like this, even as he’s so stiff and his pulse is so fucking scared: take out the frantic pace of what it means to feel him, and Eddie…the hope’s all the stronger, now. The wanting.
The selfishness.
“This,” and Eddie lets his hand move to the notch in Steve throat, like his body knew he’s feel the pulse there as much as the shiver, and the hard swallow after he asks, one more time:
“What is this.”
And Eddie forces his gaze from Steve’s skin to Steve’s face, where his eyes are blown and his color’s off, too pale even in the dark.
Where he’s fucking beautiful, even as he steels himself and takes a deep breath, less like a diver to the depths and more like a man facing an executioner. Jesus.
But his gaze is still so tender, like whatever hurt he comes to know for what he’s about to do is acceptable, so long as it doesn’t touch Eddie, doesn’t spill over. Like he’s…shielding Eddie from something worse than everything that’s already come, somehow, and that’s fucking terrifying in and of itself but—
But Steve—Steve who he barely knows but feels like he knows somewhere deep in his chest that feels knew and known somehow before these moments, like it was made only for the feelings and the certainties he holds in regard to Steve, Steve, Steve, like maybe that space inside of him was only made on some cosmic level not just for the person who made him feel this way against all odds, but maybe made only and specifically just for Steve—but Steve protecting Eddie, and hurting all the more for taking the hit?
It’s unacceptable. It’s sour in Eddie’s veins.
“If I fuck it up again, it won’t matter, I guess,” Steve seems to speak to himself, mutters low even for the soft quiet they’re holding between them. He doesn’t even know if he’s seeing Eddie for how far away he looks, sounds, like he’s reasoning with the universe.
That tips the sour feeling straight into full on sick.
But before Eddie can say anything, do anything, Steve’s sitting up, drawing back: Eddie can’t help the way he whimpers in the back of his throat for the loss; if the loss feels like more than just the closeness, the promise of it—if it feels like the moments to come are poised to change the world.
“Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?” Steve asks, implores. Eddie’s powerless against it.
His throat’s already too dry to do anything but nod.
Steve looks, nearly studies him, wide-eyed and needy and…Eddie just wants to hold him.
He just wants to hold him, and keep him.
“‘Kay,” Steve exhales heavy, shaky, like his heartbeat’s knocking around his lungs so there’s no possible world where he could have breathed out steady, where no one could, no matter how strong.
“I’m in love with you.”
Eddie—for wholly other reasons he suspects—gets his own dose of his lungs getting knocked around for how his heart trips and stumbles around those wholly fucking impossible and insane and desperately wanted words echo through his head, his ribs.
“And it might not make and fuckin’ sense to you, but,” and Steve’s breath hitches as he reaches, as he pauses like he’s not sure he’s allowed; “Eds,” and that’s not a thing he’s called so often, and certainly not in that tone, gutted but so steeped in…he said it and it’s true, because that name, hisname on Steve’s lips is fucking saturated in love and how, sure, but the fact of its undeniable enough that the semantics, the mechanics of it: irrelevant.
Would have mattered in the face of something lesser, but.
This isn’t that other-lesser thing.
So Eddie grabs those questioning hands and brings them to his cheeks where they’d been looking to land, to frame his face: to let them both feelthis, however it came to be, whatever else it holds inside.
He looks Steve in the eyes as he holds Steve’s hands to frame his own face like he’s something dear: because it is love. Unmistakably. Steve isn’t lying, or exaggerating.
And Eddie’s halfway fucking there with him, just to look at it.
Save for the way it also looks devastated. Also looks…in the kind of pain that doesn’t end, but somehow doesn’t fade. The scab you rip off to start the process over and over, to hurt all over again.
“I’ve been trying to save you so many times,” and Steve’s voice hitches some more around it, and it should probably cause more question, those words; should definitely cause more questions for Eddie himself, given how he accepts it so fast—the fairly clear implication.
“I’ve held your body in my hands so many times,” and Steve sounds broken for it in ways that even he, Edward Munson, who has seen what he’s seen these past few days, didn’t know a body, or a soul, could withstand and survive.
Also: okay. Okay.
More than an implication, before. Yep. Okay. But—
“Times?” Eddie finds himself croaking because…he’d jumped straight to saving his life but, but: times?
How many fucking times has Steve scratched the scar off and started again? How hard, how deep is the scar tissue?
“I’ve broken your ribs trying to convince this,” and Steve’s hand’s sliding down from one side of Eddie’s face to settle over Eddie’s still fumbling heart, hand stretched wide like it wants to hold the thing whole and true and safe: “to come back, back to me—”
And Steve’s voice cleaves down the center then, just flat out fucking gives out. And Eddie…
Eddie’s an impulsive person. Eddie’s not what you’d call…circumspect, doesn’t pull his punches once he feel inclined to run, to or from or alongside anything in his life.
And even he has never felt so strongly about anything than then thing that spills form him in absolute earnest, with the whole of his mess of a chest and the entire weight of his wild frantic heart:
“Sweetheart,” Eddie takes the one hand that’s not holding Steve’s to his face anymore and reaches, strokes his thumb so gently over Steve bottom lip, and yeah he takes in the way Steve’s eyes widen for it, the way he shifts from shattered to shocked in a second: but it’s all peripheral.
But the whole of Eddie is invested in the one thing he needs to know. More than he needs air to fucking breathe:
“How can I stay with you?”
And he watches Steve’s jaw drop as he moves his hand from those lips to cover Steve’s own hand one more time, still on toppings chest and he doesn’t think twice before damn near close-on begging:
“What do I need to do?”
Steve stills. Blinks.
“What?”
“I might not have had the pleasure just yet,” Eddie tries to sort the words out as he goes because his heart hurts so hard but at the same time it’s so full: “but I’m looking at you,” and he is, he’s looking at Steve and seeing so much, so many things, things that are there and things that could be there in the foreseeable future and things that Eddie can fantasize and dream of being his whole-ass future and just, just, just—
“You love me?”
Steve nods, lips still parted. No hesitation. Not a question.
Jesus.
And Eddie’s heart’s still racing, faster now, even but for…
Not just for fear, or shock, or lust, or…any of it.
Not for anything so simple as all that, now.
“And I die?” Eddie chides himself when Steve flinches ever so slightly, tries to find a gentler way to pitch the words when he speaks again because the point itself is thorny, he can’t make it soft:
“I’ve,” Eddie licks his lips; “I’ve died a lot of times?”
And he waits, and Steve’s blinks a lot of time really fucking fast, but then, again: he nods.
And Eddie’s heart hurts harder at the confirmation, and Steve’s clear bid not to shed a single fucking year—his heart hurts harder, but poundsharder for bigger reasons because fuck, fuck—
“And you’ve loved me enough to somehow bend time and space to try and undo it, to try and stop it?”
And if Steve’s got the trick to that magic, it stills the moment, stops time around them both as Eddie sees the words as they sink in for Steve, as they register and shift the shade of his gaze ever so slightly, brighter and deeper and magnetic and Eddie…
Eddie doesn’t need him to nod. Just looking him, just feeling everything that gaze is giving, solely for him, is all the answer he needs.
“So how do I get even the chance to stick around enough to deserve it?” Eddie asks, because he needs to know so that he can make sure he does it to the letter, and then fifty million times over to be sure. “To get to feel it full on,” because for as much as he’s already feeling, he can’t only imagine what it would be to feel it for an hour, a day, a week, a…a lifetime. He can only image.
And he fucking wants.
“What do I have to do to be able to feel this for more than a couple minutes,” and Steve’s eyes shift again, because he hears what Eddie’s saying, not hiding so much as trying to cram in: he feels this already, and at the same time knows it’s sample sized when what he craves, what he needs is something too big to measure; “to feel this, and return it twenty-fold and for the long haul,” and Steve’s still staring, still kinda gaping, so Eddie forces himself to pause, to ask even if everything points to a singular answer—he forces himself to wait and make super fucking sure:
“If you’ll have me?”
Steve blinks, frowns, then asks, voice hoarse:
“You believe me?” and he says it so slow, disbelieving himself. “Like, you get what I’m saying, and you, you,” he flounders, looks cast adrift and closer to tears now than he’s been yet and Eddie…
Eddie can’t let that just be.
“Of course I do.”
And maybe it’s not of course exactly, in the sense that Eddie doesn’t have questions, like a fuckton of questions but: he doesn’t have doubt, not in Steve. Somehow of all that he doesn’t know and that makes no sense, he does know that Steve is where his faith—if he was ever going to have any in anything—is meant to sit, whatever that means, whatever that demands accepting.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says with so much of himself he never knew was actually inside him to speak, to beg such truth. He didn’t know.
“So please, please tell me,” he fucking please it; “what do I do?”
Because he knows now. The breadth of what can, could, does, will live in his chest. And once he knows it?
He’s gonna fight like hell to have the whole of it. For always.
“To get to have this,” Eddie reaches, can’t help but brush some of Steve’s hair behind his ear and just…consider him. Marvel a little at the fact that the world is changing, Eddie can feel it, and it’s because this man loves him.
Him.
“This thing I’ve never even considered getting to know,” Eddie strokes Steve’s jaw and asks the only question left:
“What do I have to do to have the chance fall in love with you?”
Because Eddie doesn’t care if he has to lob off a fucking arm. He’ll do it. He’ll learn to play his guitar with his goddamn feet before he lets this chance go.
“Don’t be a hero.”
Eddie’s face must do something at the sorta sudden kind of outburst from Steve, because Steve ducks his head down a little and smiles almost apologetic, and still so fucking sad.
“I tell you not to be cute about it, and not to try to be a hero, but you are, you do, every time,” Steve tells him, explains, and that part at least tracks: he’s a contrarian to his detriment but…he doesn’t want to believe he’d do it when the stakes are this high. Not without a good reason and he can’t…imagine a good enough reason to leave this man so broken, and still fighting nonetheless.
He can’t imagine any reason in the whole fucking world good enough for that.
“Then I won’t,” Eddie says, because: well. It’s an easy fix in general, but like, he’s no fucking hero, so then it’s even easier.
“You will,” Steve smiles the saddest goddamn smile Eddie’s ever seen in his whole entire life., I too of the string of sad smiles he’s been treated to so far. “You always do,” and the resignation in stage a tone is only outweighed by the…pride, almost, for what he’s declaring against all odds to be true.
“Just, just,” Steve seems to debate with himself for a second, maybe whether he wants to fight the weight of established precedent one more time, wants to scratch off that scab in a whole knew way, because it felt like Steve was watching this play out different when Eddie believed him, and asked to work with him to make the wrongs right instead of aiding the process of his own ruin, and what looked like Steve’s own process of self-immolation in slow motion, over and again. Eddie gets why he pauses.
But it’s not even long enough to be called hesitation, really, before he’s diving in and giving Eddie the playbook, with no guarantee or even a whole lot of hope based on existing evidence to trust.
Eddie feels the magnitude of the living in a whole new way, on a whole new level, for that, as Steve speaks:
“When you do, when you’re a hero again because you always are, I need you to run when you’re done. We will be okay, I know what I’m dealing with now, I know how,” Steve says with. Steel creeping into his tone and Eddie wants more than anything to know what he’s planning to deal with, how Steve plans to stay safe because now Eddie’s heart’s tied up on the opposite end of the equation and he…he can’t survive and have it only flip the tables, have there still be a loss because Eddie’s not made of what Steve’s made of, and sure he’s only had a taste of this, but he…
He won’t survive losing it. Even just the taste.
“Don’t buy us more time,” Steve cuts back into Eddie’s headspace, the more important voice; the most important; “you do more than enough, I need you to trust me and I know you don’t have a reason to—“
“I trust you.”
And that’s unequivocal. Eddie trusts Steve. The end.
“How will I know when I’m done?” Because if Steve’s willing to go through this for him, he’s going to fucking take notes to make sure he does his part in turns, makes sure this is the last fucking time.
“Play the puppet master song,” which Steve doesn’t know, no way he’d fucking know on his own and Eddie didn’t doubt, but, like…
Jesus.
It takes a fucking second, just digesting what it means to be right for no doubting. It’s heady. Terrifying.
But also like stars in his stomach. He feels reborn in the simple reality of believing in this person who loves him this hard.
“Block the vents, don’t ignore the vents. When Dustin goes up the rope, you follow. Pull it up after you and block it off, hold them off in case any stragglers stick around,” Steve tells him, doesn’t sound skeptical, exactly, but just…maybe wary. Rightly so, given the…previous rounds of things. “We’ll need you to throw it back to us when we’re done.”
Eddie feels his face screw up a little because he wasn’t paying the most attention but he really thinks, like:
“Aren’t there closer gates—“
“I’ll need to,” Steve swallows hard, the bob in his throat almost painful to watch because Eddie can almost imagine the weight of it, the way the same motion’s been repeated so many times and yet he’s still at it, he’s still trying—
For Eddie. Jesus fuck.
“I’ll need to see.”
And if the hard-swallow wasn’t heartbreaking—again, every time Eddie thinks he’s been gutted entirely Steve goes and ups the fucking ante, good god, and he keeps doing this? He continues to say yes to this, these feelings, this, this…this, because if, for, for…
But regardless how you slice it: the way Steve’s voice cracks, on just those four words?
Holy fucking Christ—this has to be what’ll kill Eddie harder, deeper down than anything Steve’s trying to save him from.
“I won’t fail you this time, Steve.”
And Eddie means it, even if the words themselves spill from him automatic: they’re there to spill at all because Eddie means it, because Eddie’s heart’s never felt swollen like this before and he wants to give whatever it’s all fat and tender with to this man he barely knows but…maybe he knows more important things about him than he knows about most people in his life. Nearly all people in his life.
And that’s fucking has to count for something. For more than something.
“Eddie,” Steve starts, like he wants to argue some point but Eddie isn’t gonna have that, not now.
Not ever again, if he has anything to fucking say about it.
“No,” Eddie cuts him off and this time, this time, it’s Eddie who reaches and cradles Steve’s face, holds him like he’s precious, as much as he can because this man is precious beyond reason, but human hands are only capable of so much care: he gives what he can.
He knows it’s not enough, and hopes his heart in his words will make up the difference.
“No, this,” and he runs the pads of his thumbs beneath Steve’s eyes, because as gorgeous as they are, as he is: those eyes used to be bright. They were bright…before. When did they change, when did Steve from now like Eddie become Steve who’s tried to start Eddie’s heart with his own hands, and couldn’t?
Doesn’t matter.
Steve’s eyes aren’t supposed to be hollow behind the color; there’s only supposed to be the sunshine.
Not the endless dark.
“I’ve been taking it away, haven’t I?” Eddie breathes out in a level of horror at the realization that’s settling in the more he looks at Steve, and reads the toll he’s been paying, for Eddie. “I hate that, I hate that I—“
“Eddie,” Steve breathes, and the only shine in his eyes is tears and it’s wrong, it’s just wrong.
“It gets taken away because yours isn’t there anymore,” Steve reaches back, now, and holds Eddie’s face in his broad hands: “the light in you,” and his voice cracks and he blinks and one tear.
One tear falls.
Eddie’s sternum splits in two.
“I want to know what it is to fall in love with you,” Eddie says in a rush, demands on the whole fucking cosmos: “the whole way, because I think I’m already halfway there,” and it’s true, it’s true because he’d give his life for Steve already so he understands, of Steve’s in longer and deeper, why he’s fighting despite the hurt, but, but…
No more.
“And I want to earn it,” Eddie tells him. “I want you to fall for me not just because of, because of life and death stuff, or tied up in losing,” Eddie tries to fit the avalanche of feelings in him to words, prays it’s enough:
“I want it to be a,” he chokes, shakes his head and bites his tongue: “a good thing,” because he wants to be a good thing for this man. He wants to be only a good thing, as best he knows how.
“You are a good thing,” Steve counters, and fierce with it; “you’re the best thing.”
Eddie’s not strong enough to hold himself to just one tear when the floodgates break.
“I run when Henderson runs,” he breathes shakily. It’s a vow more than anything he knows how to give.
“You don’t run,” Steve tells him, so soothing, still so protective of Eddie, always protective of Eddie; “you’re so fucking brave, and you save our asses,” and he brings their foreheads to lean against each other as Eddie’s inhales trembles: “you’re just gonna fall back this time, so you don’t break my heart, too, okay?”
“Okay,” Eddie would agree to anything, at this point; this is easy. This he can do, no problem.
This he will do, no question.
“I’m sorry,” he finds himself whispering, because…because he has to.
He is so fucking sorry.
“You’re��” Steve starts, uncomprehending as Eddie just shakes his head, almost like a compulsion.
“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you so many times,” Eddie hissed through clenched teeth, tries not to descend into blubbering, tries to maintain something like, if not composure, the capacity to be heard and known when he promises with his whole heart:
“I won’t do it again, I swear.”
And Steve watches him, eyes red rimmed and still brimming but carefully, assessing.
Eddie can help, though. He can put him a little bit at ease, or damn well fucking try.
“I already feel something,” and he brings Steve’s hand to his chest again, reminds them both his heart’s still beating in this world, in this time. “And I’m too selfish Steve.”
Steve cocks his head in question; Eddie wants to watch this man’s quirks, learn the minutiae of his every expression.
Forever.
“I need the whole shebang.”
Steve smiles, watery and still strained but less sad, and that’s something.
It’s all they have time for, because he can hear everybody coming back with supplies, remembers they’d been prepping for war.
It’s all the have time for—for now.
“I’m holding you to that,” Steve says, a little watery, a little shaky, a little unconvinced but wholly filled with love, still, and all together isn’t only serves to harden Eddie’s resolve that much more.
“You flake on me again?” Steve flips his fingers backward against Eddie’s shoulder in a poor excuse for a smack: “I’m gonna tie you to the driver’s seat next time, and leave Nance with Dustin.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Eddie answers, dead serious; “except for one thing.”
There’s something molten, a glint that isn’t tears when Steve lifts a brow in askance; when Eddie leans in and kisses Steve hard, deep, quick because they have to but it doesn’t have to be anything else because he leaves his heart and soul in the exchange, willingly and willfully and all fucking in.
“There’s gonna be a next time for that. I swear to god,” Eddie murmurs against Steve slips when he pulls back; “we’re gonna have so many next times.”
And when the door to the RV bursts open and everyone else spills in, Steve’s lips are a little swollen if you’re looking.
And Steve’s eyes still have that light.
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For @klausinamarink, who requested 'The Light Behind Your Eyes—My Chemical Romance' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST
✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @sadisticaltarts
divider credit here
💫 ao3 link here
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weaponsdrawn · 2 days ago
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HI i just remembered to respond to this FUCK ok so
I MASSIVELY AGREE with the binjpipe takes. i think ETS was good/iconic if only because it was so like. JARRING in a good way. but it was so lighting in a bottle tbh, and like u said it isnt rlly good horror. only rlly shocking if ur actually attached to cookie, which ppl are. cookie gets replaced by an AI tried to be ETS all over again, and it wasnt, and it kinda rlly showed, like you said, how they shine best with comedy. also I FULLY AGREE. fuck, im pretty sure its one of the reasons ive just grown tired of jackbox by now, both me and my gf (we met thru shared jackbox love), its bc every time binjpipe happened we were just like "THIS SHIT AGAIN?????" like it just made any sort of investment in it or hopes of cookie getting better just. feel so fucking moot. why bother getting invested if its just constantly going to get dragged back up. the "evil streaming service" joke is dead. its BEYOND dead. we havent even heard of the binjlady anymore. its lost any sort of omnious buildup. to me binjpipe's appeal was that it clearly wasnt going to last long. it was a nightmare that was just going to keep on ramping up until it crashed and burned horrendously, and fuck thats SO cool to consider and write about. but they keep dragging it out, and now its just sad. its boring. fucking. selling adult films?? give me a break.
ok about the party packs, HONESTLY SAME. like idk the writing is what really gets me about it tbh. i guess theyre good party games (tho i can get bored really fast, save for roomerang, and even so thats mostly bc of the goofyness of the responses), but YEAH youre so right. like idk if its because theyre ALSO doing the international translations but ithink it goes with the fact that the hosts severely lack character. when its like for some games, its ok if they dont have character (quixort), but its like that means theres A BALANCE. pack 8, ok? games like job job and weapons drawn, that CALLS for the hosts having character because its putting you in a situation WHERE the host is an active part of that situation. its like "wow im really in funny office" or "wow im really doing a murder!!!" right now, yknow? Push the Button, DODE was her own character and had noteworthy quips and she was a vital part of the games story/framing device! todd is iconic bc hes such a chill internet guy and then he sends you to hell! felicia is all morbidly romantic bc youre on a MONSTER DATING SHOW. a lot of the games stand out BECAUSE of the unique situations ur in that envoke unique prompts/unique gameplay, meanwhile something like fixytext? i dont know SHIT about the host. and its kind of a shame that the cannon jackbox lesbian host we have is SO FUCKING BORING GOD. most i can get is that shes introverted, but i gen cant tell if its genuine, if its some kind of "akward bacon unicorn moment! #millenial" type shit, what the fuck even really IS Fixytext at the end of the day. what makes it more than google docs shitposting simulator. its such a fucking shame, esp for the TENTH PACK. like god maybe they rlly do need to take a hiatus bc the change in. writing quality is. idk it just didnt help my dropping fixtation i'll say that.
also wait FR????? JESUS CHRIST thats actually a shame, i wanted to try and play that game!!! (namely bc funny objectum) and like. the ONE naughty pack exclusive host and we get NOTHING about her. i dont even like the fucking conch shell design im sorry. jackbox crew yall are great but how in this green unholy earth do you expect ppl to draw and remember your designs when your hosts are so. flat. fuck, mayonnaise, fucking M BUBZ, is more memorable than nickolas kranrker whatever and dr nanners and jerri, i cant tell you a SINGLE thing about jerri tbh. its such a shame. i want to love these guys i really do but theres nothing that endears them to me.
tbh if they end up not doing anything for ydkj it'll be funny in a kinda sad way tbh. on the one hand it'd BE nice on the other hand yeah its been nothing since full stream, eh. could they even do a YDKJ anymore? i remember once upon a time there was all this hype/discussion of a "ride 2" where the only real roadblock was that buzz's VA has well moved on from voice acting i think, but ppl had ideas for giving him a new voice, maybe even making it a transgender reason, all this stuff. this was like a couple of years back. but its like god i'd be shocked if they even remember guy exists at this point. or nate. hes sorta got a chance given his VA is literally a core part of the crew.
also i getcha. glad i could offer a space to let ya vent like that lawl
roomerang completely fucking fumbled with giving rue any sort of character we could've had a fun host we could've had that snark we could've had ANYTHING to match the sheer amount of swag in her design but we got BASICALLY NOTHING/very vague hints of character ("I'm beside myself... and I look good!" And "dramaaaa!!! :3") which is CRUMBS compared to even the most one note hosts like glargan o'toe or civic doodle's hosts and as petty as it sounds it's kinda the reason I fell out of love with current jackbox </3
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luck-of-the-drawings · 8 months ago
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"And soda; runs off into the street..." "...and soda... is totally okay!"
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi suckening#cw blood#something something cracking open a boy w the cold ones#IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES I MISSED I SWWWEAR TO JEBEDIAH. IF I STARE AT THIS ANYMORE IM GONNA DIE IT NEEDS TO BE DONE#ALSO RRRAAAHAHHHGHGH CAN I JUST TAKEA SECOND TO SCREEAAMM ABT HOW MUCH I LOVE SODA AND EMIZEL.. LIKE THERYE SO CUTE....#THEY ARE HOMIES THAT KISS EACHOTHR GOODNIGHT. THEY CARE SO MUCH FOR EACHOTHER. SODA LOVES SODA AND SODA LOVES YOU#do u guys remember how willing he was to share blood w his vampire bestie. like cmon. remember when emizel memorized sodas Soda Schedule.#LIKE CMON.... they just have eachothers backs so much. ouhhh my god... ANYWAY SO THE ART HUH. I FEEL LIKE I SCRAMBLED W IT FOR A WHILE#DRAWIN IS HARD..... i think i did well in the end tho.. i like the lil heart beat effects. and i hope i made soda look Suffieciently Scared#i ALSO had fun w the teeth. i however did not have fun w the walls. if i had more drugs i mightve done every brick in more detail#but i didnt WANNA!!!! this will suffice.I HOPE IT FLOWS WELL&THAT ITS CLEAR... IVE STARED AT IT SO LONG IT IS NOW VISUAL SOUP. HELP!!!#i want my comics to have more Pauses and Space and Thought and Momence. i feel like normally they go so fast. but THIS time#i think i did good.... huuoouhhhh.... comics are HARD art is HARD but i am HARDER. or something. OH YEAH I HAVE MORE ART THINGS#soda was RLY HARD FOR ME TO DRAW FOR A MINUTE..but i like where his design is now. i wanted his hair to be curly swirly.like soda fizz#i THINK thats all my thoughts for now. if u have thoughts u should spill them in the tags i looooove reading tttaaggsss#have a goodnight i gotta go to work soon. maybe. unless the casinos power goes out AGAIN. OR SEOMTHING... UUGHHH MY SCHEDULE IS IN SHAMBLES#I THOUGHT I WAS WORKIN 3 DAYS INA ROW SO I RENTED A WHOLE DAMN HOTEL BC THE JOB PLACE IS FAR AWAY.. I HAD TO CANCEL THE WHOLE RESERVATOn#annd im MMMMAD ABOUT IT!!! like ill get over it ofc BUT IM PEEVED!!!! IM INCONVIENIENCED AND GENTLY AGGRIVATED. BUT OVERALL FINE.#hope yalls weekend goes well. sleep well. if u get the chance to.
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cerealmonster15 · 6 days ago
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[vibrating a little too fast] Do You Understand My Vision Yet
#twst#twisted wonderland#cereal tries to draw#cater diamond#jade leech#trey clover#and some other guys but this aint about them#girl i do not even begin to know how to tag this one#trejeikei. treycayjay. caterjadetrey. girl fucking help#i still subscribe to jade having a crush on both of them at the same time and Being Weird About It lol#my fave thing in fanart is w/octavinelle if anyone is drawing shipping art of one of them with someone#the other two being either confused or disgusted or just bullying for fun about it#and then my other favorite is riddle being pissed as hell finding out his beloved card soldier besties are turning to the dark side#fraternizing with the enemy. [kissing a fish boy]#cater and trey both picking octavinelle for their union bday dorm choice is still so funny to me#AND THEN RIDDLE WENT AND PICKED JADE FOR HIS THEORETICAL BROTHER CHOICE LOL god dont even get me started on them#i am also obsessed with jade and riddles dynamic but god. no time for dat now goku.#cater voice hey siri what do u do when a boy holds ur hand and Wont Let Go#i love trey but i feel like i only ever draw him as a tiny head icon w/someone else talking about him fkshfkldshf#i mean ive drawn him in more things sometimes. usually treycay. i just dont post him very much#idk why hes so hard to draw LOL#i passively enjoy treyjade i think i used to look it up more in early twst days#but i ALSO like them both with CATER A LOT and u know me. love to tape characters together. into the polycule soup with you boy.#anyway in that first one cay i think was like 'wow jade kinda never expected u and trey to get together lol no offense -'#and jades like 🤝 well i dont mind sharing 😌#SHARING WHAT- theyre all holding hands now the end :]#riddle voice if u break cater and/or treys hearts it is On Sight jade leech#jade voice teehee well we wouldnt want that ill do my best 😌#riddle is not convinced.#anyway shoutout to ME and the like 1-2 people this might appeal to lol
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deoidesign · 6 months ago
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how did u learn to paint?? like i just cant wrap my head around it
<3 I love answering asks like this!
You will have to bare with me, I don't save many of my studies, and my files aren't that organized so I don't have as many images as I would like.
The studies I've found most helpful for myself personally with painting are various master studies. (This is also, as always, alongside study of fundamentals.) And always follow a study with self-critique (and, if you can get it, outside critique!)
"Master" in this sense means anyone who you want to learn something from.
One way you can do this is by copying an artist's work directly. This is to try and understand some of their stylistic techniques. Leyendecker, Andrew Loomis, and John Singer Sargent are personal favorites of mine! I try to keep these quick, I'm not trying to get an exact copy.
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I also get a lot out of copying photos. In this case, I'm not trying to glean some technique, rather, I'm trying to interpret the photo and explore my own stylizations.
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(photo credit mountain men of alaska )
I also really enjoy taking a painting or piece that already exists, and making it "mine" by putting my characters in it haha, which is sort of a combination of master studies and photo studies!
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(William Bruce Ellis - Covent Garden (1930)) (Barberini Faun)
And then, in my work that's not a study at all, I'm informed by all of these!
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What master studies do is help me refine my style and practice my technique, but also I'm communicating with artists of the past through my art! They're teaching me! And I have so much to learn.
And of course... most importantly... I paint.
a lot.
I don't do as much study anymore, not because I feel I've learned all I need to, but because for work I draw 50+ drawings a week. 'Drawing for work' and 'study' occupy the same space in my brain and I need some fun drawing time!
So to sum up, draw a lot, reference constantly, and copy the people you want to draw more like!
(and, of course, when doing a study off of someone else's work, always give them credit. If it's your photos there's no need.)
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batfossil-fr · 6 months ago
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I’ve been really thinking of reopening my art shop soon… I’ve been taking some practice doodles (hence all the posting lately) while I shake off my rust and I’m finding things I enjoy working on again. I miss trying my hand at more dragons/OCs and colors. my shop’s so broken rn lmao but that’s a problem for a later date it’s just nice getting back into art
#my mental health is starting to improve a bit#took a couple years but I found some meds that finally work better for me#ofc things aren’t 100% but I was really in a pit for a while#like ‘did not leave my house in months and slept 14 hours a day’ kind of pit#so. any improvement is better lol. but nah I’ve been making real improvement and im doing better. a lil shaky sometimes but that’s expected#diagnosed with chronic fatigue too. which is unfortunate but not unexpected. i am indeed god’s sleepiest soldier#i feel like a raisin slowly rehydrating but considering i was in a desert before any hydration is welcome#just learning how to enjoy things again overall#one thing I just couldn’t get myself to do (and enjoy) was art. doodles here and there but nothing to post#and it’s kind of funny because I feel like that downtime actually gave me a chance to think about what I wanted to work on#even when I wasn’t actively practicing#just paying attention to things I guess. enjoying art styles#i genuinely think my experimenting with stained is helping me learn colors#i spend hours in the scryshop im glad it’s paying off lmao#i want to tackle bigger things but i just gotta ease myself into the hang of things again#for now im having fun and that’s coooool. thank you all for your nice comments#i read all tags while kicking my feet and giggling. thank u all#that’s the update on Me tho. more to come hopefully#starting next month/julyish I will have a significant amount of time to dedicate to drawing which i intend on doing#so who knooowwwsss#rambles#funny enough coloring has become my favorite part of the process now. it used to be lineart. now lineart annoys me LOL#i also feel like i kinda lost my ability to write which has been frustrating but im focusing on art first#anyways that’s a whole different tangent rant over
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possiblyfunny · 5 months ago
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Hey, look guys, more art-
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HOPE.
I’ve been wanting to draw him like this ever since I first saw him smile, but my will to draw eluded me until now! This started off as a doodle, so, please excuse the messiness. I drew this to de-stress.
“Fire” Red belongs to @creatively-cosmic. They have a blog called @themissingnumbers, which is really good! Go check it out if you want to see more.
[Sketch + Colored Version below the cut!]
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#Not my greatest work but it’s what I made :)#Hope you don’t mind the lack in quality- haha#I’ve made better pieces#but I still like this one!#I feel like I’m getting better at drawing his hair lmao-#I just kinda messed around with this one but I really wanted to draw him smiling#Fire smiling makes me happy :)#He deserves to be happy#and I hope I can help him attain that happiness.#Even if my help is the equivalent of Baby Steps lmao#Gotta start somewhere!#I could not find the font used for the hidden text for the life of me#but I found a similar one!#Hope Starry and the Mods are doing well!#And I hope we get to see more Happy/Hopeful Fire in the future :)#His smile is precious-#(Bonus!: Y’know what I really wanna see? Red smiling. And not the creepy wide/crazy/manic smiles he usually has.#I mean a true honest-to-god genuine smile. Now THAT would be a sight for the history books. Red deserves to smile too.#Just like everyone else does.#That might be my next goal aside from befriending Leaf—getting Red to smile.#Is that probably going to be extremely difficult? Oh most definitely! But I think he’s worth the effort.)#(Bonus-Bonus!: I wanna give Red a hug so bad-#but I also feel like he’d bite me or something if I tried :(#Maybe he’d just let it happen? Or cry. Or both—who knows?#Red deserves some gentle treatment. He’s been through a lot too.)#I wonder who I’ll get the will to draw next? Hopefully I’ll do them justice!#Long ahh tags Jesus Christ- Didn’t know I could max them out.#Missing Numbers#Fire Red Yuuji#My Art
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weltraumii · 5 months ago
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This is my first time joining art fight!
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tanicus-caesareth · 7 months ago
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guarana drama, damage control
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plantenjoyer · 3 months ago
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I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS
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#this has been happening for like TWO YEARS BUT I SWEAR TO GOD I AM TRYING.#my usual art motivation (my webcomic idea) has been put on hold for a bit and because of that i forgort... everything#my will to draw specifically#but in my defense i have been writing k*arlach / oc indulgences and i've been VERY focused on finishing it#i also got a marketing manager (my friend <3) to help with advertising my comms and stuff so uh... look forward 2 that#i might need to start posting all of my art on a sideblog so she doesn't have to log into my main though#so there might be some changes#but i promise i want to do art!!!! but there's always something to do first and then months pass :(#or i get the urge to draw and then life is like ''have a cancer scare'' lmao...#(ended up being cancerous actually </3 but because it's skin stuff it was easy to remove)#(but that really took the piss out of me for most of july... not to mention that ffxiv released a new expansion and i have been...#having a good time with my new friends doing content and stuff!) i also made a friend irl after like 3-4 years of total isolation#we feed ants and watch them move around together and comment on their behaviour patterns...#but like when i say this takes literal hours.#we just sit out there and talk about random shit and watch ants walk across the floor. both of us hate ants btw.#like we don't like having them ON us so it's a bit like playing with fire.#but anyways yeah i've also been really low energy recently too bc of the heat and burnout from college...#but the good news is that i'm transferring in fall to a much more relaxing college & courseload!#i'm hoping it'll stop me from feeling so... awful ?? i guess ??#like i was taking classes i didn't need to that were really difficult & punishing#not to mention extremely boring & hard to pay attention to when dealing with literally anything. i did not want to be there.#my next college is much more interest-oriented so i will finally be able to take classes i want to and learn from them...!#and then maybe i will feel a bit more in control of my life / more encouraged to draw#anyways thank u for reading my ramble. hoping it all comes together soon.#i need to do a lot of work but most of it is so i can sell commissions again#but once the karlach fic is done we're so back on the webcomic train !!!!!!!!
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normalcannibalism · 4 months ago
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i feel weird and self conscious about my art again. sigh
the entire post ended up in thw tags ohb my god
#imptxt#ill talk about it more here#i do actually really like my art overall#i love my artstyle a lot it's so fun! lineless art awesome yay ^_^#i also really like the fact that i can very easily make super experimental art without feeling. bad or something.#BUT#i started drawing later than a lot of other people i guess. i haven't drawn since i was born i started drawing on aj when i was 9/10#and i didn't ever use references when i was younger which has made me incredibly. anxious about using them now :(. doesn't help that i am-#genuinely scared of using human refs because. i feel like they're staring at me#ive been seeing a lot art by people who are the same age as me or younger recently which is. technically a lot better than me currently#like. skills wise or whatever#and the ideas ive been having in my head have also become a lot more. out of my comfort zone/abilities#which is making me feel like i have to improve but. i don't really feel like it at the same time. i just want to have fun#but. i also want my art to be more interesting and dynamic anf just. Cool i want to have cooler art.#i haven't really used any tutorials but. None of them are really just. suitable for me from what i can tell??? idk man. different artstyles#to the one i have.#it's. it sucks.#i hate it.#sigh#ive also been feeling more guilty about yhe art i post recently???#idk. it feels repetitive and i don't want that. sigh.#i also wanna draw backgrounds man i love backgrounds but they're difficult#nothing is stopping me from doing that tbh. i just. have been very focused on drawing characters and ive been lazy with them#thankfully background refs aren't difficult for me to use.#ouuuhggvgg art js a Fuck why do i do it#(it's so fun hats why)#helllk wajt i just realised the reason why this is happening is because the thing im reading has fucking banger art#You Fucker. whatever you're forgiven god your art is so goals hs.#maybe i can. hm#AART YAY!!!!
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zoppzoop · 6 months ago
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GAAHAHHHHH
#venting in the tags#maybe its just past darkness and the Bad Thoughts which i shouldnt listen to are clouding my brain too much#but i feel so fucking weird and inadequate over everything rn#im unable to work on drawings as i usually would have and its kinda plaguing everything which it should like yeah i love drawing but#i cant let just one aspect of me ruin everything. right? the fact that i havent been able to draw as well as i usually can should make me#feel sick to the stomach and unsure about everything i do but it happening and i hate it.#plus i got the ipad id saved up from the comms to buy and its fun and nice and all and maybe i just need more practice with it but i feel#like im not able to draw on it even more? and i spent the whole day trying to get used to it but its just not as good?? and then when i went#back to the no screen wacom i couldnt get a hang of it becuase idek its just not happening#and also the fucking art block wants me dead i swear i want to draw so bad and i have so many ideas but the moment i start anything its just#crumbles down into nothingness and i hate everything i do and gods fuck i want to cry but i can because there are people at home and#usually im a big 'crybaby' when im at home but i dont fucjing wanna be like that anymore like i can handly my shit myself im fine.#i dont need to just fuckinf cry abiut it becuase thats not gonna fox anything but also i feel like crying might just make me feel better#but then id have to hear shit from my family and i know theyre just teasing in a /pos way but i dont wanna fucking deal with that#plus my brother iust talking to him os annoying sometimes like he talks about things so condescendingly and fucking hel dude shut#the fuck up i dont need you telling me that my art is something people can 'just do' and the fact that i was able to get the ipad#'basically for free since i got that money from the little drawings i make' as if they dont fucking mean anything to you like#shut the fucking fuck up dude i worked hard on those and even though i dont like my own shit sometimes i still fucking work hard on those#fuck you you bitch#i think a lot of things are just piling up and i need to sleep#tomorrow will be a new dawn and a fresh start and maybe ill hate myself less#ps. note to anyone reading the tags#im fine i just needed to yell out and express my frustration a bit. some sleep will help surely.
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piplupod · 8 months ago
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i feel a feeling that is genuinely intolerable and go "okay what do i do with this"
therapist brain says "feel ur feelings, its unhealthy to suppress all the time." rational brain says, "hi if we sit with this emotion then we are going to either be bleeding or dead in approximately ten minutes. so whats another option." therapist brain goes "wellll i guess in that case maybe u can distract urself idk, that can be a coping strategy sometimes." rational brain glances at emotion, shakes its head and shoots back "yeahhhh no can do there bud. this one's a real whopper and distractions ain't gonna cut it this time."
both sections of the brain shrug at each other and then The Disorder brain raises its hand smugly and simpers out "hiiii remember me? yeah this is the reason i exist teehee :) give me five minutes and I'll have an amnesia wall erected and another part of the brain shoved into the forefront and then we'll be right as rain! and this emotion can go rot in the locked cabinet of horrors until another part accidentally stumbles upon it again in the future or until the lock breaks. :)"
#girl help I've just been drawing and then BOOM. unbearable feelings drowning me !!!! drownding !!! i am drowndinging !!!#i dont wanna do this anymoreeeee im so tired of this#i go ''wow this sure is intolerable! how have i ever dealt w this!'' and then the DID does its thing some more👍#''gee that sounds so helpful!'' my body is in shambles from the overwhelming amounts of undealt with trauma :]#there are many other downsides but . i ain't getting into all that dhfjdldl#im just . grrrrr. maybe its bc i was drawing another part of the brain but c'mon 😭 i was drawing them HAPPY !! playing!! having fun!!#trying to make smth nice for us !!!! god damn this is so ridiculous#i want to go to bed fjfkdl im so tired and frustrated w everything man im trying so hard and it all seems to go towards nothing#im just not doing well idk also this counselor i have has been so flaky and its making me feel so ... eeurgghh#i understand they dont think im a suicide risk so im low on the priority list but I'd like to just... be a priority for somebody just once#boohoo poor me etc etc. other ppl need the help more than i do i know. im just. tired.#there isnt rly a lot anybody can do anyways to help i guess#still makes me insane thinking abt how the social worker had nothing for me except ''well ... u could go to the homeless shelter''#im just... theres so many fucked up things abt that. sigh. oh well oh well oh well.#just keep making my shitty art and trudging thru the days and finding good things in a day when i can scrape em together !!!!#argh. sigh. I'll go figure out some food to eat tonight.#pippen needs 2nd breakfast#suicide mention#self harm mention
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verothexeno · 1 year ago
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I'm in this strange woozy head state. I just can't wait for the year to finish. I can't wait for something to happen. I want to draw, I want to write, but just thinking about it makes me feel exhausted and I feel so stupid about it.
A lot of stuff work and personal wise has been rough lately. I just want to lay in a nest of blankets and wait for the new year...
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lusalemaart · 1 year ago
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dump of doodles. naturally. i hardly draw anymore.
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#hmm.. lately? ive been trying to let it go. obsessing over everything? is all ive ever known.#ugh. its... ok to draw bad. its ok. its fine. its encouraged actually#listen. im. again. really bad spot. drinking too mcuh again. hurting myself again.#but.mm i ... can hardly deny my purpose when i look at MacKyleMore. .i swear. he is my everything#and ive made mistakes. and i continue to recognize my behavior. and what has been for so long ocd...#but... To fuck up? is to be human. and basically i made a promise. no more attempts at s**c*de . no more. no more c*tting. until november#after that? i can do what i want. but... mackylemore wants me to keep going until then... without hurting myself...#not sure why. but he does. gut feeling. you know? and i fucked up. and i keep fucking up. but... hes my everything. truly. i cant explain#it. hes me. and i hate me. but i love him ??? tis weird. idk. ok. i promised tho. i promised to myself. no more self harm until december.#and i cant help but listen.#ugh.#ok.#mackylemore#JFC when i was lost? i was on the right road.#fk#alt#rotp#fine. whatever. mackylemore. god. me. all of the above. idc what u r#nonetheless fuck u. but without you i am nothing. ugh. im. drunk. like. i promised i wouldnt hurt myself anymore#i wouldnt c*t myself or try to k*ll myself anymore. but im still dr*nk and confused.#i? am a god. no kidding. im huge. mackyle is me and i am mackyle. but i hate me. and love mackyle. makes no sense#op is an alch*h*l*c. op is a bad *rtist. ignore me.#doodle dump
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