#anyway yeah wip
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vulcan-moon · 2 years ago
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forgot how long watercolouring a whole spread with bgs takes, so here's some in progress previews lol
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reginalusus · 6 months ago
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Not these two again (I will do it again).
Ummmm, soon-to-be father-son angst or something.
Jason's line after this was originally: "I don't need a lecture from the guy who swapped his scales and sword for cigarettes and guns," but I have other stuff I wanna move on to and the frames kinda got fucked, sooo.
Ko-Fi.
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slushglow · 1 month ago
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the price of your mercy
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tzarrz · 7 months ago
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i listen to fog lake too much
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mossy-paws · 5 months ago
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these fuckass robots that I hate /aff (Ultrakill x PHIGHTING!)
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the girls are PHIGHTING! again
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hotcinnamonsunset · 8 days ago
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something something baby shark, right??🦈
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heartorbit · 7 months ago
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heartbeat
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scribbling-dragon · 9 months ago
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missing ranchers forever and ever and ever (a redraw of THIS from a year ago)
[click for better quality! + closeups under the cut]
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demaparbat-hp · 8 months ago
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Almost
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deoidesign · 3 months ago
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when your main characters start dating after years of writing so they finally get to be like this
#rare WIP preview from me#this is in like. 10 episodes. lmfao#its been really hard working this far ahead#my editor isnt giving me any feedback and my friends are very busy so it's felt quite lonely#which is fine! for my friends I mean. but its my editors job to give me feedback...#but the webtoon editors are extremely extremely extremely overworked and my series is set to end so I understand its low priority#its not her fault its webtoons fault. however. its still demotivating...#oh well l m a o#I should be much further ahead ngl LMFAO I want like 12 done but I come back in 2 weeks.#we'll see#when I get really stressed out I go full gamer mode#and usually I'll sink like 60 hours (like 5 days) into a game and then I'm good and move on#but this recent game that grabbed me is. its too much actually#bit uncontrollable ngl I think its an ADHD thing I mostly have just quit playing videogames at all#cause its like yeah being stressed cause theres too much work to do is not going to be helped by losing a week and a half to a game...#and yet.#anyways the game is satisfactory#my friend bought it for me and we've been playing together#and our shared file has. 100 hours on it. and we still havent beaten the game#we're close to beating it and it's not like we're rushing or anything#cause its fun to fuck around and zap eachother or whatever#but it's got me doing math. the exact kind of math I love to do. optimization#and its reminding me yeah in another life id have been an engineer#I'm glad I'm an artist but its always weird like yeah this is easily a path I could have gone down#'artists hate math' speak for yourself doing math calms me down! I love math!#I love math and I love business. I'm almost the perfect artist but I hate advertising so. we can't have it all#anyways theyre so fucking cute its sickening. I love them so much. I could cry#WIP#lineart#time and time again
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storytellering · 2 months ago
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Torn apart. Inspired by Romeo and Juliet by Sergio Cupido
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flovoid · 4 months ago
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hxneyfarm · 1 year ago
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got the idea in my head of the party clocking the steddie tension and bullying eddie about it so this happened | 1.7k | rating: g or t, depending on how you feel about swearing
“I’m gonna need you two to either quit that or get your shit together and make out already.”
Eddie drags his eyes away from the door at the top of the basement stairs that Steve’s just closed on his way out to pick up Max and El, back to the task at hand, the table in front of him, his lost little sheep taking their places around the table in the Wheelers’ basement. It's Erica that spoke up, her eyebrow raised in a condescending kind of way that Eddie’s not sure if she learned from her mother or from Steve.
“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he chastises, a little belatedly, a lot unnecessarily, and very obviously a deflection from the meat and potatoes of what she said.
It’s not just little Sinclair watching Eddie anymore; they’re all peering expectantly at him like they’re waiting for an explanation. Well, they’re not gonna get it. This little dance that he and Steve are doing - if it’s even a dance at all - is nobody’s business but their own. 
It’s been months now and it’s driving Eddie out of his goddamned mind but it’s not like he’s going to talk to the fucking kids about it. Jeff and Grant have been pretty receptive about the whole thing and Eddie’s talked both their ears off to the point of annoyance. Gareth won’t even give him the time of day anymore when Eddie starts in on talking about Steve.
It’s just that he and Steve have had this little back and forth going for a few months now, where they’ll flirt and Eddie will just start to think that maybe’s he’s got a shot and then Steve will back away. And then they’ll go a few days without talking and they’ll be back at it with a vengeance, picking on each other and making suggestive comments and very intentionally checking one another out.
But then Eddie’ll see Steve laying that same charm onto every girl that walks into the video store and snap back to himself. The mixed signals make him want to scream a little bit. One minute he’s psyching himself up to ask Steve to come back to his after work, maybe watch a stupid movie and make out on the couch, but then he reminds himself that he’s fucking delusional and Steve is just like that. He’s a flirt, and the way he flirts with Eddie doesn’t mean anything.
But the kids are still watching him, still waiting for an explanation about the way he and Steve were just gazing at each other as Steve climbed the stairs to leave, and so Eddie sighs.
“It’s nothing, okay?”
“Right,” says Henderson with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. “Which is why you two can’t stop making those lovesick faces at each other and flirting with each other, and why neither of you can ever shut up about each other.”
“Steve talks about me?”
“Jesus Christ,” Mike mutters. He’s tipping his chair back, balancing it on two legs. It’d be so easy for Eddie to just… tap it with his foot, send little Wheeler to the floor.
“Anyway!” Eddie says again, clapping his hands together. “It doesn’t matter! It’s nothing! Stevie’s just… like that. Y’know? With everybody. Let’s get to work, we’ve got a campaign to get through, no reason for us to be wasting time talking about Steve Harrington. Right?”
“Wait,” Will cuts in. His smile is a little mischievous, a little mean, and suddenly Eddie doesn’t remember why he likes the littlest Byers as much as he does. “You think Steve acts the way he does with you, with everybody?”
“Yeah. We’re friends. He’s… flirtatious. It’s not a thing, y’know? It’s just. A thing.”
“So you really think he willingly stuffs four teenagers in his car every Friday night to drop us off here, and then goes back out to pick up two more teenagers to bring them out here because…? Friends?” Lucas is looking at Eddie like he thinks he might be ready to grow another head.
Okay. Fuck. So they’re actually talking about this. Eddie and a bunch of snotty little kids are about to talk about his fucking crush on their babysitter. Jesus Christ.
“Listen. We are not discussing this.”
Will ignores him. “If you like him, ask him out.”
“And ruin a perfectly good friendship, baby Byers? I think I’ll pass. Besides, him and Nance…”
“Are long over,” Will insists, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. “She’s still going out with my brother.”
“Like I said,” Erica cuts in again, “I need you two to suck face already or cut it out. We might be kids but we aren’t blind.”
“Please, he doesn’t even like me like that.”
“Are you kidding?” Dustin again. It’s like a game of round robin, each kid around the table lobbing questions and insistences at him in turn. “How can you say that, Eddie? The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He spends his Fridays here, in his ex-girlfriend's basement, to spend time with you. Don’t you see the way he watches you?”
“He just… I tell a good story.”
Mike lets loose a scoff and a sigh that could very well shake the foundations of the house around them. “I don’t even like Steve, but yeah. He treats you different. Special.”
“I already told you - he flirts with everybody. He’s a flirt! That doesn’t mean that it means something.”
“Who else does he call baby?” Lucas asks him, deadpan.
“He has pet names for everybody.”
“No he doesn’t. Who else is he going around touching all the time?”
“Robin, who he does have a pet name for. He calls her Bird.”
“Because you started calling her Bird. He picked that up from you,” Dustin argues. “And yes, he talks about you. He asks about you when he hasn’t seen you in a few days. He mentions stuff you said. He had an Ozzy tape playing in his car today and when I asked about it, y’know what he said?”
“‘Eddie gave it to me,’” Will supplies with a smile. “And he was smiling when he said it. That weird smile he gets sometimes. You know the one.”
“The Eddie smile.”
Eddie’s mouth is dry. His head is swimming a little bit. His heart races. There’s blood pounding in his ears as he thinks about Steve listening to The Ultimate Sin in his car even when Eddie’s not around to tell him about the production of the album or explain the intricacies of the instrumentals. He listens to it because he enjoys the music Eddie’s shown him. He talks about Eddie to the kids, asks about him.
Eddie exists to Steve outside of the weekly campaigns at the Wheelers’.
Doesn’t mean Steve likes Eddie the way Eddie likes him, though. Eddie can’t let himself dwell too much on the possibilities of what that could mean. He’s been crushing for months now. It’s almost winter in Hawkins, and Steve’s started coming around to campaigns more and more often the closer to the holidays it gets; Eddie figured it’s because Nancy will be coming home for Christmas soon - she was just here for Thanksgiving and Steve spent most of that Friday upstairs with her instead of in the basement with Eddie and the kids. So Eddie just kind of figured they were reconciling… 
He’d moped about it after he went home, certain that he’d never have a chance with Steve in spite of his very big, very obvious crush on him.
The thing is, Eddie’s never been all that subtle in his affections. He’s a tactile guy as it is, but with Steve it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself at all. He finds himself reaching out whenever they’re together, a moon orbiting a planet, and Steve is all too willing to be the gravitational pull that draws Eddie close.
But that doesn’t mean he likes Eddie.
Which is what he says to the kids. They’re still looking at him, waiting for his response.
“You are so blind, God,” Mike groans, covering his face. “We can all see the way he feels about you, and you’re so gaga for him it’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t asked you out himself. Jesus, we are all so sick of this shit.”
“Language, Wheeler.”
“Stop deflecting, Munson. If you don’t say something when he gets back here, I’m gonna tell him for you. We’re all fucking tired of this!”
“I don’t wanna hear it from you, of all people!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you don’t know then I’m not gonna tell you. Dumbass teenagers.”
There’s a flurry of footfalls above them, and then the basement door opens to reveal El and Max coming slowly down the stairs with Steve following close behind.
“Tense down here,” Steve smiles. “What’d we just walk in on?”
Panic rises in Eddie as Mike pins him with an evil smile and starts to open his mouth to spill the beans.
“Good news first or bad news first?” Eddie blurts out, holding out a hand towards Mike to shut him up.
“Uh oh,” Steve says. He pauses on the bottom step as the girls hover near the table. Steve’s eyebrows draw together, a little confused and a little concerned, and Eddie’s overcome with the urge to reach out and touch him. “Bad news first, always.”
“We were arguing about you.”
“And the good news?”
“Good news for you, either way. You have the option to prove them all wrong or severely gross them out.”
That crease between Steve’s eyebrows deepens. “What are you talking about?”
Well. Here goes nothing.
“The kids are all convinced you’re into me the same way I’m into you but I told ‘em that’s ridiculous. So you can tell ‘em they’re all idiots or you can come over here and kiss me, make ‘em all wanna wash their eyes out with bleach.”
Steve’s smile is slow to spread, but spread it does. It starts as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and his face softens. That twitch goes a little lopsided, one side of his mouth tipping up into an uncertain smile before it bleeds over onto the rest of his mouth, and he’s grinning. 
The Eddie smile.
It takes him no time at all to cross from the stairs to where Eddie sits at the head of the table and he drags Eddie up out of his seat.
“Guess we better get some bleach ready, then, baby,” Steve says.
And then he kisses him.
because you both asked to be tagged literally anytime i write something: @steves-strapcollection and @patchworkgargoyle - here, i wrote something
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sinnabee · 1 year ago
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Congratulations on your new semi-permanent experimental position as the Official Daycare Assistant and Attendant Handler!
Now, you may have heard from a few of your coworkers that the Daycare Attendant can get a little... overeager, at times. But we can assure you that these are merely rumors, and should promptly be ignored - after all, the Daycare Attendant is always excited to start the day off with a smile!
Welcome to the Fazbear Family! We're sure you'll love your time with us!
And remember: you have nothing to worry about.
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mmso-notlikethat · 3 days ago
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I don't know why but well, here another take on this prompt, that just attacked me
It had been three weeks since their reunion. Buck had been patient—so, so patient—taking things slow just like Tommy had asked. Their kisses had been chaste, their hugs warm and reassuring. Tommy had been the one to set the pace this time, insisting they rebuild things carefully, brick by brick.
At first, it was easy. The simplicity of just being together again, of rediscovering each other’s rhythms, had been enough. But as the days passed, Tommy began to feel it—the slow burn building inside him.
It wasn’t Buck’s fault. Buck wasn’t even trying to push boundaries. If anything, Tommy might say he was almost too good at respecting them. He wasn’t asking for more, wasn’t pressing Tommy for anything. And yet… everything he did seemed to light a fire under Tommy’s skin.
Every little thing Buck did felt electric—his hand brushing Tommy’s arm, his thigh pressing against Tommy’s under the dinner table, even the way his voice dipped when he got serious. None of it was intentional, none of it meant to provoke, but Tommy’s body didn’t seem to care.
And the worst part? Buck wasn’t even trying. There were no smirks, no teasing touches, no knowing glances. He wasn’t playing a game or testing Tommy’s limits. He was just being himself—kind, attentive, and endlessly considerate. It was Tommy’s own damn fault for being so affected by it, for letting the tension build until every small interaction felt like a spark against dry kindling.
Tommy had asked for slow. He’d insisted on it. But now, weeks in, he could feel the weight of his own restraint pressing down on him. The heat coiling low in his belly grew stronger with each passing day, each lingering touch, each stolen glance.
And then there was today.
They were on the couch, Buck lying back with Tommy resting against him, his head on Buck’s shoulder. Buck had one arm wrapped loosely around Tommy’s chest while his other hand held his phone, scrolling through something. He was rambling about whatever he was watching—some video, or maybe a random fact he’d stumbled across—his voice warm and animated.
Tommy wasn’t paying attention.
All he could focus on was the way Buck’s breath brushed against his neck every time he spoke, soft and warm, sending shivers down his spine. His scent—warm skin, faint salt, familiar, intoxicating—filled Tommy’s lungs, making it impossible to think straight.
“Can you believe that?” Buck said, laughing softly as he tilted the phone slightly, like Tommy could see it from where he was lying.
“Hmm,” Tommy managed, his voice barely audible.
Buck didn’t seem to notice. He kept talking, his hand resting lightly on Tommy’s shoulder, his thumb brushing absentminded circles against his skin.
Tommy tried to focus, to say something coherent, but his body was betraying him. His chest felt tight, his skin tingling with need. His pulse pounded in his ears, and every brush of Buck’s breath against his neck sent another jolt straight to his core.
“Sure,” he murmured, though he had no idea what he was agreeing to.
And then Buck did something so simple, so casual, it was almost infuriating... he pressed a soft kiss to the side of Tommy’s neck.
That was it.
The fire that had been smoldering for weeks finally erupted. Tommy’s entire body tensed as a wave of pleasure crashed over him, sudden and overwhelming. His fingers clutched at Buck’s arm, his breath hitching as his thighs pressed together, trying to contain the impossible heat coursing through him.
The orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, sharp and blinding. Heat flooded through him, sticky and damp against his skin, as his mind went blank. His nails dug into Buck’s arm, his body shaking as he clung to him.
For a moment, everything went dark.
When he came back to himself, he was curled against Buck, who had both arms wrapped tightly around him, holding him close.
Buck’s presence was soft. He pressed another kiss to Tommy’s hair, his hands rubbing soothing circles over Tommy’s back.
Tommy’s breath hitched again, his cheeks burning as he pieced together what had just happened. “Shit,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Evan—oh, shit—I’m so sorry…”
“Shhh,” Buck murmured, pulling Tommy even closer. “Tommy, that was so hot.”
Tommy froze, his embarrassment giving way to confusion as he felt it, pressed against his thigh—the unmistakable hardness, the heat, the sudden tension in Buck’s body. And then it happened.
Buck’s grip on him tightened further as a soft, shuddering gasp left his lips, his body trembling. Tommy didn’t need to ask to know what had just happened.
“Evan…” Tommy’s voice was barely audible, his cheeks flushing even darker as he realized what had just happened. his earlier embarrassment now mingling with something else—surprise, curiosity, maybe even pride.
Buck pulled back just enough to meet Tommy’s gaze, his face flushed but his eyes warm and filled with affection. “Guess we’re even now,” he said with a soft laugh, brushing a strand of hair out of Tommy’s face, and leaning to kiss him—deep and feverish, as though he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.
Tommy groaned, burying his face in Buck’s chest, when the kiss finally broke. “This is not how I thought today was gonna go.”
Buck kissed the top of his head, his smile audible in his voice. “Me neither. But I’m not complaining.”
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h3lian · 4 months ago
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` The monotony & rising tide is under my skin, is crawling inside.
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