#cw sh implied

[awetfrog]

Can we have enki and the little girl content more? 👀

local dark priests are teaching your children about gro-goroth

[ohmaerieme]

little blurry stars scattered all across my room

[womanovertheedge]

My body feels wrong. I need to tear it to shreds.

[jjrockerslefttoe]

[cruucigerglobus]

testing the limits

[idiot-mushroom]

drawing ttnm raph bc it cures my depression

[axel-tiredstudent]

silent conversations and catching up after many years

original version with the wrong arms under the cut

[roxyrot]

Some human Bill fanart ! Design by chaosblast_ on Twitter !

[hexcii]

Never posted this cause I got too self conscious about it but fuck it I’m doing it now

Been thinking about their face scratches lately

Labeling this as mature since I’m highlighting the scars and I know that some people don’t wanna see that

[arkeusruin]

chat i drew a comfort continuation of the other piece- <-(CW SH SCARS)

!!CW FOR SH SCARS!!

they are scars but they are dark so please take care of yourself first and foremost!

(under the cut)

[frutillasconcr3ma]

I am the face Of love's rage - Ethel Cain, Ptolemaea

yeah so, artstyle study

[cemeterysquids]

lineless art experiment ft. siffrin

[psychotic-nonsense]

Steddie Week Day 6: Drunken Confessions

------ slight warning for SH talk ------

Eddie doesn't expect anything from Steve right now. Just a steady breath, in and out, to prove he's okay.

Well, as okay as he can be, coming down from the night they've had.

It was supposed to be a boy's night, as Robin joked when Steve proposed it. A night out of town to just get some drinks and hang out together, something they rarely get to do without the kids around. Jonathan and Argyle backed out in favor of catching up, the latter visiting for the weekend, so it was just Steve and Eddie.

It was supposed to be fun. And it was, arguably a contender for the best night of Eddie's damn life. Getting absolutely shit faced at some random bar and singing a shitty duet for the bar's karaoke night, living it up the way they never thought they could.

Until some random fucker twice as smashed as them shoved Eddie in the parking lot while they called for a ride from Nancy (at her insistence before they left). Said something Eddie's already grown used to tuning out.

But Steve wasn't. So he retaliated in Eddie's defense. And his fighting reputation was lived up to, the whole thing disarmed only after Eddie swung back at the guy hard enough to knock his drunken ass down.

Seeing Steve gasping and bleeding on the ground struck the wrong cord with Eddie, spiraling him into a panic attack right there on the side of the road. He was lucky Nancy showed up almost immediately after, otherwise the two of them would still be stuck there, Steve concussed and Eddie drowning in his own head.

Now, post cleanup and shower, with ibuprofen and waters downed, all Eddie needs right now is to feel Steve breathe. They haven't talked since coming back to Steve's forever empty house, haven't even turned off the bedside lamp. Just found themselves laying together in Steve's room, Eddie draped across Steve and holding each other as tight as their sore limbs allow.

Eddie rises and falls upon Steve's chest, staring at the light illuminating Steve's swollen face. Nothing has changed since Steve shut his eyes, and Eddie's nearly being lulled to sleep as well, until...

"I want to be in pain."

It's just a crackling whisper, not even enough to make his chest rumble with actual sound. But Eddie's already so tuned to Steve's sounds right now, he still hears it.

But something about the tone, at this time, in this place, makes it feel so much more fragile. So Eddie doesn't dare move.

"I don' like it... but I wan' it..."

Steve's still drunk. He's slurring. But his chest rises and falls and Eddie doesn't dare speak.

"I want it all th' time... I hurt more if 'm not..."

Steve's hand tightens where it's been resting against Eddie's back. Eddie's shirt crumbles in the fist, Steve's hand shaking with the strain.

At this Eddie dares, just a little, because he's drunk too. Not just on alcohol but on love. Pure, real love, stronger than any he's ever known. Hitting him so suddenly like a train, but landing him in a place that feels like the coldest pillow beneath the warmest blanket. He trails his hand up from where it was resting over Steve's stomach, slowly and carefully cupping Steve's face.

It's like Steve falls apart at the touch, his face crumpling into despair and loneliness and longing. His expression twitches with it, his black eye not allowing as much as it clearly wants.

"It made'em all stay... Mom, Nance... I was hurt, 'n they had t' stay..."

A tear slowly climbs over Steve's stolen eye, resting in the cave over his collar. Eddie's too busy watching it travel, misses Steve's arm coming up to his own until they're touching. Steve's hand circles his wrist, holding it almost reverently.

Eddie's glad Steve's eyes are still closed. Saves him the agony of seeing all of these blatant emotions reflected within those gorgeous eyes. Saves Steve the sight of Eddie's own grief, his pain at hearing such a confession.

"My pain made 'em stay... made 'em care..." Steve holds Eddie closer, tighter, everywhere. Begging and pleading, please please please. And then it clicks. "I jus' want someone to care about me..."

Eddie's eyes go wide. Tears prick at the back of his throat, his chest aches with longing, and his fingers tighten on Steve's skull. The anger, the fight, those nights months ago where Steve never left his side, oh, oh, OH...

And Steve's going limp beneath him, sleep finally catching hold to chase away the night. But his chest still rises and falls and the tears leave their marks on his face and Eddie finally dares.

"You have me... No pain needed, ever, not with me... Whatever it is, whenever you want it... time, attention, care... l-love, Steve... It's all yours... It's all yours..."

[jjrockerslefttoe]

erm what the sigma

[shbunnygirl]

i wanna cvt im going insane

[thunder-opossum]

I like this brush anyway vent below.

A few days ago I talked with my physiatrist. She advised my mom to start considering more intense therapy. Such as staying in a place away from home. And also going to the ER if I couldn't y'know..

Like damn. What you mean I should consider going to a funny farm? This can't be that bad? It was worse before. Right? Now i want to go to therapy even less. Huh. I can't belive it. I'm not that bad am I? Maybe I am. I was having some troubles today. But I didn't. One mistake I didn't even bleed and everyone is back to looking at me that way. A text every hour.

I don't even know if a place like that could help me? Especially after what happed last time I was forced to go somewhere stressful.

It's just scary. I can't belive it. Nothing will probably happen. But like what. What.

Edit: sorry if that was too much. I just want other people to kinda know what going on ig