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stormy-nights-are-best Ā· 2 years ago
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Hey WHAT if I made your turtles [shiny emoji] slightly more scientifically accurate [shiny emoji]?
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I'll start with the Disaster Twins.
Alright, so Leo is a red-eared slider turtle. At first I was skeptical about his blue shell and horizontal marks, but then with some research, I found red-eared sliders aren't always just the most gorgeous green - I found this lil blue gal in the pic! - AND their stripes CAN have some wiggles that make horizontal lines (first pic tart has one on its shoulder). So I didn't have to change those!
I did give him some actual stripes and plastron marks (there is no red-eared slider without those, plus they can be blue too so it suits him) though.
And a long thin tail because I'm okay with Trans Leo (male slider have short thick tails like in pic 2)
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It was hard to figure out which type of spiny softshell Donnie was at first, but I was being dumb. It's obviously the Northern.
I started this whole project to fix Leo and Donnie's markings and DANG IT THEY'RE NOT INACCURATE- Spiny softshell turtles can have purple marks just fine (I'm pissed) so I let him keep his cool tech markings and just fixed his plastron. Picture one is a softshell's plastron, in case you hadn't realized. I know I took a while.
And!! Spiny softshell turtles have U-shaped nostrils. That's very important.
The hands and feet I gave Donnie are a little different from all the others' because so are spiny softshell turtles'.
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But I think it'd be comical if the guys still couldn't tell the difference between the twins without their color coDING
OH, YOU MUST HAVE NOTICED LEO'S PERFECTLY FINE AND RAPH DOESN'T HAVE A HOLE IN HIS SHELL! That's because those are gonna be all in that time gap between the end of S2 and the movie.
If you WANt scientifically accurate post-movie wounds though.... Here's Leo's.
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girldadbuckley Ā· 4 months ago
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His name is Buck.. a buck is a male deer.... Bambi is a male deer......
9-1-1 3.08 // Bambi (1942)
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tapakah0 Ā· 1 year ago
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shinkotori Ā· 5 months ago
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This art of Serana from Skyrim (as always, drawn by my friend @yuramoonbow, also available on twitter here) was actually not a commission, but a surprise birthday gift after they had already drawn this other piece for me.
[ Image Description: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim fan art headshot of Serana Volkihar. She has a neutral expression on her face and the background is solid black. It is signed 'yura moonbow'. End ID.
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excali8ur Ā· 5 months ago
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Weird dream.
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rosemarytrash Ā· 5 months ago
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this is so needlessly chaotic but so is act 4 so really if you think about it i'm imbibing the spirit of it all into a lot of gaussian blurring
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pricklybruin Ā· 4 months ago
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Transformers Reverse Mini-Bang 2024 (@tf-bigbang) is finally here!!šŸ’„šŸ’„ Here is my piece, featuring Minimus and Ravage on a mission on a frozen planet. It's quite eventful!
Please go read @icypolargirl78 's wonderful fic Dead and Melting Ice!!!
((Close-ups below cut <3))
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wistfulvulpine Ā· 5 months ago
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the pride of camelot, yours and mine
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egophiliac Ā· 1 year ago
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Do you play genshin impact or honkak a
Star rail?
I don't play Honkai, but I've just started looking into Genshin Impact's story (someone described Neuvillette's character to me and I was like. hmm. HMM.) I haven't gotten far yet -- really JUST started looking at it -- but I'm looking forward to more! :D
(I know almost nothing about these characters yet, I'm probably drawing them SUPER wrong, sorry)
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cometshift Ā· 8 months ago
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predisasters
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emchant3d Ā· 1 year ago
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part 2 of the steddie fight steve whump - now with as-promised eddie whump šŸ’• part 1 here
Eddie isnā€™t a good man.
Steve thinks he is, Eddie knows. He says it all the time. Eddie thinks that good men donā€™t need to be announced as good men, that their goodness is obvious enough without anyone pointing it out, but he doesnā€™t want to argue about it with Steve. He hates when Eddie doesnā€™t see himself like Steve sees him, so he just does his best to be the person Steve thinks he is.
He did a spectacularly shitty job of that today.
He took it too far. Cut too deep. Knew it the second the words came out of his mouth, didnā€™t even need to see the color drain from Steveā€™s face as the blow landed, but he was treated to the sight anyway. He watched the angry flush fade into a sickly pale pallor as those long pretty lashes fluttered and that plush mouth parted in surprise, in shock, before Steveā€™s jaw had snapped shut so hard his teeth clacked.
And then it was gone. As quickly as the hurt had been written all over Steveā€™s face, it disappeared in the blink of an eye, and Eddie hates when he does that, when he hides how he feels and refuses to share his hurt and sadness with Eddie, but can he blame him for concealing it? Can he demand to be shown it when heā€™s the one who put that expression on Steveā€™s face in the first place?
And the worst of it is - heā€™d felt a sick kind of satisfaction at the sight. And he hates himself for it now, with hindsight and self-awareness, feels disgusting for the way heā€™d reveled in the sense of victory heā€™d felt. Heā€™d won. Heā€™d hurt Steve and heā€™d won the argument by doing so, at least that round of it, had stopped their back and forth with one sentence, and heā€™d seen him fold in on himself and go ice-cold in a way Steve hasnā€™t been with him in a long, long time, maybe ever, not since they started this whole thing between them.
Heā€™d taken the win while he had it, heard Steve say something about the guest room and rolled his eyes, Steve can be so dramatic when they fight. Heā€™d turned tail and done the worst thing he could have fucking done, canā€™t even claim hindsight for this one because heā€™d known even as he was doing it that leaving then, when heā€™d been asked what heā€™d been asked and answered like heā€™d answered - heā€™d known it was cruel. Known it was salt in the wound, and heā€™d ground it in with a perverse satisfaction, slammed the door behind him and everything.
He took a couple walks around the block, chain-smoked half a pack of cigarettes, debated going to Garethā€™s to rant and ramble and try to get somebody on his side even though he knows Gareth likes Steve more than he likes Eddie some days - his boy is too charismatic for his own good, won over all of Eddieā€™s friends with the slightest bit of effort.
He sat on the fucking curb and lost track of time quick, watched the darkening sky deepen until it was black and the streets were barren and his hands were frozen, until heā€™d thought himself into and out of every scenario possible, until all that was left to do was admit to himself how badly he fucked up.
Anger kept the guilt from setting in immediately, because heā€™d been so angry, so furious with Steve for - forā€“
He canā€™t even pick out what in particular pissed him off so much, and isnā€™t that rich? Because deep down, he wasnā€™t angry. Not really.
He was terrified.
Eddieā€™s been distant lately, he knows. Heā€™s been taking more gigs and staying out later after them, heā€™s been working more shifts, heā€™s been hanging out with the band and saying he has ā€˜practiceā€™ when really theyā€™re just sitting around getting high and wasting time. Sometimes he doesnā€™t even give an excuse, just turns up late and acts like he canā€™t see the mix of worry-anger-hurt painted all over Steveā€™s face, he just wraps him up in his arms and covers his face with kisses and acts like theyā€™re fine, like thereā€™s not a tightness squeezing his heart so hard heā€™s afraid itā€™ll stop beating altogether.
Heā€™s been pushing it too much. Disappearing too often. But he just doesnā€™t know how to explain it - the fear that settles bone-deep in him when he thinks about how happy he is for too long. If thereā€™s one thing Eddieā€™s life has taught him, itā€™s that happiness and safety - all that shit is temporary. Heā€™ll lose it eventually. Itā€™ll get damaged somehow, heā€™ll piss someone off or do something wrong, heā€™ll break the delicate balance thatā€™s afforded him a safety net and that net will disappear, and heā€™ll be left in a free-fall and forced to pick up his own shattered pieces when he lands, alone and hurt and starting all over yet again.
Heā€™s so, so tired of starting over.Ā 
So heā€™s been trying toā€¦delay the inevitable, maybe. If heā€™s not around, Steve canā€™t be tired of him, right? And thatā€™s not fair to Steve either, but Eddieā€™s selfish at the best and worst of times and heā€™s been prioritizing getting himself through this, has switched to survival mode so thoroughly that heā€™s not been able to recognize the only threat heā€™s trying to protect himself from is him.
Self-sabotage is a habit thatā€™s deeply ingrained in Eddie. Itā€™s the only thing he knows sometimes, the defense mechanism that feels like coming home, but when you grew up in a home like he did, sometimes familiarity isnā€™t safe, not like it should be.
It blinds him to everything and everyone, makes it so he doesnā€™t recognize heā€™s even doing it until itā€™s too late. Until heā€™s pushing everyone away and hurting the people he loves, until the person he loves most in the world is standing in front of him and yelling in their living room asking if Eddie wants to be here with him.
And thatā€™s another thing, isnā€™t it? Of course Eddie wants to be with Steve. Of course he wants the comfort that comes with loving someone and being loved, but he canā€™t deny that thatā€™s terrifying in its own right - that the idea of being tethered to something freaks him the fuck out. And he knows, he knows thatā€™s part of the whole avoidance thing too - his heart searching for freedom where it can find it, loving Steve but being terrified of Steve at the same time, of what he means, of that string that keeps them together always, no matter what.
Usually the thought of that is wonderful and welcome and fantastic. Sometimes itā€™s something he absolutely cannot think about. And that leads him right back here, not fucking thinking and leaving Steve alone and acting like heā€™s done nothing wrong when he knows damn well heā€™s the fucking problem here.
Steve was yelling because Eddie hadnā€™t considered him. Eddie hadnā€™t thought of Steve, or his life with Steve, and Steve was angry about it. And he had every right to be. But all Eddie could see, could feel, had been a noose around his neck, a tie to something - to someone that felt like it was taking control.
Eddie had panicked, and he did what he does best - he ran.
Scorched earth, feet to the ground, bolted away from the issue the best he knew how, let himself sit in that self-appointed righteousness of finding an escape except heā€™d run from the one thing, the one person, heā€™d promised never to run from.
This is the downside of loving someone you know inside and out. This is the result of baring his soul to Steve and having Steve bare his back - heā€™s seen the delicate, vulnerable bits of that man and knows exactly where to strike.
Regret eats at him. How could he say that to Steve? How could he do this to Steve? Eddie knows his temper is mercurial at the best of times, knows his moods can change with the weather, but thereā€™s no excuse for allowing them and his fear to take over like they had. Itā€™s something he has to work on, heā€™s known it for a while, but this is the final nail in the coffin.
Heā€™d thought he was past the worst of this, of his anxiety eating him alive and taking things from him, thought interdimensional monsters and almost dying and falling in love in the aftermath of it all meant that the mundane normal life shit would be easy, but the universe does so love to prove Eddie Munson wrong.
Thereā€™s nothing in the world worth losing Steve over. And sure, Eddie can be a coward, has cowardice in his goddamn blood some days, but if thereā€™s anything worth being brave over, itā€™s the man waiting for him at home right now.
This is fixable, he tells himself. Heā€™ll apologize. Heā€™ll grovel and make it up to Steve and heā€™ll be glued to his goddamn side for the rest of their fucking lives if thatā€™s what it takes. Anything to show him that Eddie didnā€™t mean it.
He wanders his way home with his metaphorical tail between his legs, hoping that heā€™s right - because Steve would be well within his rights to be tired of his shit by now. Steve would be more than justified in calling it quits over this - because it isnā€™t just one fight. This one fight was a culmination of issues and he sealed the deal with a fucking calculated attack and he has no idea what heā€™s about to come home to, not really, heā€™s just hoping that home still feels like home when he walks in the door, and he only needs Steve for that.
He doesnā€™t know what time it is when he makes it in. Just knows that the apartment is dark and shadowy and the only light in the place is in the hall, so he doesnā€™t call out to Steve.Ā 
For a moment heā€™s terrified that maybe Steve isnā€™t here, maybe he left, but he knows thatā€™s his modus operandi, not Steveā€™s, and besides, the guest room door is closed. He remembers what Steve had said, stone-faced and monotone, ā€˜Iā€™m staying in the guest room tonight,ā€™ and Eddie hates that Steve isnā€™t in their bed, but at least heā€™s here. Hopefully heā€™s asleep - and he feels like a piece of shit for hoping for it because he knows he just wants to avoid this conversation, even if Steve getting some rest would be a good thing. His baby doesnā€™t sleep too well. Neither of them do.
He shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up by the door, forgets to take his shoes off like always and desperately, desperately hopes that Steve will still be willing to bitch at him for it in the morning.
His heart is a stone thatā€™s sunk down to his stomach. He doesnā€™t have words, had tried to craft something pretty to say on the walk home, but his theatrics wonā€™t help him now and his sincerity is drowning in his guilt and he doesnā€™t know how to fix this. How does he apologize for this? Not just the fight today, but all of it? Heā€™s got nothing but he knows he canā€™t let this sit like this, canā€™t stand it, canā€™t leave the two of them in this limbo and abandon Steve to whatever awful thoughts are swimming around in that pretty head.
He knows Steve. He knows his fears, his insecurities. He knows he hit them all like a fucking bullseye with a single sentence and the rest of his actions would have taken him down the rest of the way.
He left. Heā€™s spent so long promising Steve thatā€™s the one thing he would never do, that heā€™s a runner but never from Steve, and yet heā€™s slinking his way through their apartment after doing exactly that, hesitant and quiet as he can be but heā€™s terrible at being quiet, and he winces at the volume of the thunk that sounds when he pauses in front of the guest room and leans on the closed door.
He canā€™t hear Steve through it, but that doesnā€™t mean much - he could be lying awake, hoping Eddie just continues his path down the hall, hoping to be left alone and spared the groveling that Eddie knows he has to do. Could be that Steve doesnā€™t want to see him, doesnā€™t want to deal with him, just wants some peace after all the shouting theyā€™d done earlier. Eddie wouldnā€™t begrudge him that.
But a bigger part of him, a worried part of him, knows that itā€™s unlikely.
No, the bigger part of him, the bit of him thatā€™s tied to Steve Harringtonā€™s heart, knows with almost certainty that Steve is lying on that unfamiliar bed wide awake. He knows heā€™s hurting, knows heā€™s upset, knows he wishes that Eddie would just come in and fix things.Ā 
He presses his forehead to the door like he can transfer his thoughts through osmosis - he thinks itā€™s osmosis, he isnā€™t sure, science was the least strong of his not-strong suits, okay - and have Steve just know everything he wants to tell him, and then he shuffles the rest of the way down the hall to buy himself some time.
He changes into pajamas as he goes over everything he wants to say, trying to work it into something coherent and level-headed, but at this point heā€™s debating just falling to his knees and begging Steve to not leave him, which, well - heā€™s had worse ideas.
He doesnā€™t want to lose Steve. But he knows he might. Has to accept that as a possibility. Has to face that and resist the urge to deny it, to own that heā€™s royally fucked up and might lose the most important person in the world to him, even if the very idea makes him want to rip his heart out of his goddamn chest.
Call him dramatic. It doesnā€™t make it less true.
He pads his way back down the hall, the familiar orange glow from the dimmed light less a comfort and more like heā€™s walking down to a fucking gate to hell, and comes to a stop outside the guest room. He takes a breath, braces himself, and then raises a hand, knocking gently.
ā€œBaby? You in there Stevie?ā€ he asks, and he doesnā€™t get an answer, but when he quietly opens the door he catches the motion of Steve ducking his head down. Heā€™s awake, then. Pretending not to be, but thatā€™s okay - Eddie can work around that.Ā 
He canā€™t make out anything but the rough shape of Steve in the bed - his own body in the doorway is blocking most of the light trying to illuminate the dark room. He knows the shape of that lump on a mattress, and he walks closer, almost reaching out - but he wouldnā€™t be able to stand it if he touched Steve and he flinched, or if he pulled away from his reach. So he pulls his hand back, and sinks down onto the edge of the mattress, and takes a deep breath, letting the silence sit between them.
And Eddieā€™s a goddamn coward, canā€™t even look at his baby, keeps his back to him in the dimness of the room so he doesnā€™t have to see the anger and the hurt as he tries to apologize for a hurt that he never should have caused. And he canā€™t see him, but he can hear him - he can hear the little hitches in his breath, the stutters of it, the soft trembles that Steve is trying to keep steady, and each one is like a stab to the fucking heart, and he really cannot fucking take this anymore, soā€“
ā€œI know youā€™re awake,ā€ he says, and Steve goes silent behind him. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. ā€œLetā€™s just hash this out, huh? Get it over with.ā€ He wishes Steve would yell. He wishes his baby would get all his anger and his frustration out and they could move on, he wishes Steve would get so fucking mad and lash out because Eddie deserves itā€“ and he tries to stop that train of thought before it gets too off track because thatā€™s mean, Steve isnā€™t like that to him and itā€™s not fair to expect it from him. Even if it would make things easier if he could just hope for an easy way out.
He takes a breath, and starts where he thinks is best, the only starting point he can really think of.
ā€œIā€™m sorry.ā€
ā€œDonā€™t,ā€ Steve says, sharp voice a little rough, but itā€™s strong and itā€™s steady and something in Eddie relaxes a bit. Steveā€™s still mad. Eddie can work with mad.
ā€œSo you are awake,ā€ he tries to joke, and it lands about as well as he thought it would.
ā€œYeah,ā€ is what he gets back, and he lifts his head, tries to pick out the vague pattern of the popcorn ceiling above them in the dark. He can feel eyes on him, knows Steveā€™s staring him down.
ā€œIā€™m sorry,ā€ he says again, and Steve makes a soft, gutted sound from behind him. ā€œWhat I said - what I didā€“ā€ he shakes his head. ā€œIt wasnā€™t right. I should have neverā€“ā€
ā€œIf youā€™re going to break up with me will you just get it over with?ā€ Steve interrupts, snappy and frosty but his voice cracks something fierce, and hold on, what.
ā€œHold on, what?ā€ he says aloud, like a dumbass, but sue him, he doesnā€™t know how else to express the utter confusion taking him over right now.
Steve scoffs at him, and thereā€™s a shuffle behind him but Eddieā€™s moving too, finally turning and - oh.
Oh, no. Steve pushes himself to sit up and Eddie takes him in, his reddened puffy eyes and the tense set of his jaw, clenched so it doesnā€™t shake.
ā€œI donā€™t need you to apologize for breaking up with me,ā€ Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest, defensive, shoulders up to his ears, weight shifted back like heā€™s two seconds from lurching away from Eddie to wedge himself in the corner like thatā€™ll keep him safe. And itā€™s so odd - itā€™s so wrong - to see Steve, the fighter, the one who punches first, so defensive, but he supposes it makes sense when the enemy is Eddie, and god, doesnā€™t that just feel like a kick in the fucking teeth. ā€œIf you donā€™t wanna fucking be with me anymore I get it, okay, I donā€™t need the spiel, I donā€™t need the whole itā€™s not you itā€™s me thing, just - just do it and get it over with and I can - I can move out, Iā€™ll get out of the way and Iā€™ll leave you alone andā€“ā€
ā€œShut up,ā€ Eddie says sharply, and then cringes at himself because come on Munson, a little gentleness would be good right now, but heā€™s off-kilter in a way he didnā€™t expect. Steve flinches a little, but he stands his ground, eyes wide as he keeps them on Eddie. ā€œShut up, I am not - you thought I was breaking up with you?ā€Ā 
Steve flails his arms a little, tossing them up. ā€œWell - you - I meanā€“ā€ he stutters, ā€œwhy the fuck else are you here!ā€
ā€œTo apologize!ā€ Steve freezes and stares at him like he didnā€™t know that option was even on the table. ā€œBaby,ā€ Eddie says, achingly soft, and he doesnā€™t stop himself from reaching this time, catching hold of Steveā€™s arm and pulling him close as he closes the distance between them both.
Theyā€™re on their knees on the mattress, crowded into each otherā€™s space, and Steve wonā€™t look him in the eye. ā€œSteve,ā€ he tries, but he just gets a minute shake of his head for his efforts. Steve isnā€™t touching him, fingers curling into tight fists in the space between them like heā€™s trying to keep himself from reaching out, but he isnā€™t pulling away from Eddieā€™s touch either so he keeps going. He skates his fingertips in a soft touch down Steveā€™s bicep, over his elbow, brushing along his forearm and feeling goosebumps pop up.Ā 
He takes hold of Steveā€™s hand, rubs the back of it with his thumb, watches Steveā€™s gaze dart to where theyā€™re touching as Eddie maps out the familiar pattern of Steveā€™s moles. Freckled even here, on these warm hands Eddie loves so much, these hands that are shaking faintly in Eddieā€™s gentle grip.
ā€œYou donā€™t gotta look at me,ā€ he says softly, and he squeezes Steveā€™s hand tighter, ā€œbut please - please, angel, just listen to me, okay?ā€ Steveā€™s breath hitches again, but he nods, and Eddie will take what he can get as he clasps Steveā€™s trembling hand between both of his own.
ā€œSteve, Iā€™m sorry,ā€ he says, watching what he can see of Steveā€™s face, orange light slicing over his features from the doorway. Those eyes he loves are fixed on their hands and he canā€™t tell if heā€™s watching in fear or hope or both. ā€œWhat I saidā€¦I didnā€™t mean it, okay?ā€ And it sounds hollow to his own ears, so he tries again. ā€œI just - I wanted to hurt you, andā€¦ā€Ā 
Steve gives a bitchy little eye roll and Eddieā€™s heart skips a beat, staring at his pretty, tear-stained face and clinging to that small glimpse of normalcy. ā€œWell mission accomplished, I guess,ā€ Steve says, bitter and sad, and Eddie groans softly.
ā€œI know. I know, Iā€™m sorry. Baby, Iā€™m so fucking sorry. I canā€™tā€¦I tried the whole time I was out to think of the right words to say but I just - I dunno how to explain it,ā€ he says, frustrated with himself, and he feels the smallest little squeeze to his hand.
ā€œTry,ā€ Steve says, quiet, ā€œ...please,ā€ and his voice cracks again and it feels like a fucking knife in Eddieā€™s stomach.
ā€œI was scared,ā€ he blurts out, and finally, finally Steve looks at him.
ā€œ...What?ā€ His brows furrow, his mouth turns down, ā€œscared of what?ā€ ā€œOf you,ā€ he says, and thatā€™s not quite right, and Steveā€™s face falls even more, looking nauseous.
ā€œIā€™m sorry,ā€ Steve croaks, and he tries to pull his hand away but Eddie just grips it tighter, ā€œIā€™m sorry, Eddie, I shouldnā€™t have yelled like that or gotten mad and - and I would never hurt you, Edsā€“ā€
ā€œNonono, baby,ā€ Eddie scrambles to interrupt, shaking his head so hard his hair flies around a little, ā€œno, thatā€™s not - I wasnā€™t scared of you like that.ā€ He raises a hand, grabbing hold of Steveā€™s face, keeping their eyes on one another while he has the chance, ā€œI meant - I wasā€“ā€ he makes a little frustrated sound, ā€œ...I was scared that Iā€™d lose you,ā€ he says, and God, fuck, thank God Steve is who he is and he knows Eddie how he knows him, because understanding starts to bloom in those bloodshot eyes.
ā€œ...And so you lashed out,ā€ he whispers, and Eddie nods again.
ā€œAnd so I lashed out.ā€ Guilt paints his words. ā€œAnd Iā€™ve been avoiding you. Avoiding home. Staying away because - because if Iā€™m not around then you canā€™t get annoyed, or tired of me, right? And thatā€™s so fucking stupid, okay, I know it is, Iā€™m a fucking idiot, really, biggest moron in the world, and a goddamn cowardā€“ā€
ā€œHey,ā€ Steve says sharply, and Eddieā€™s words die with a little whine in his throat. ā€œYou are not a coward. Youā€™re the bravest person I know.ā€
ā€œDustin would like a word,ā€ he shoots back, and Steve huffs, narrowing his eyes at him. Eddie gives him a small, self-deprecating smile.
ā€œI just mean,ā€ he soldiers on, ā€œIā€™ve been doing wrong by you.ā€ Steve looks away again. ā€œAnd Iā€™m sorry. I know Iā€™ve been hurting you and I want to do better, Stevie, I do.ā€ He squeezes Steveā€™s hand.
He watches as Steve rolls his lips in, biting them hard, his brows tight and his shoulders going tense again. Eddie wants to fill the space with his own chatter, pour out even more apologies, but he lets the silence sit - he lets Steve have the space to collect his thoughts, to think of what he wants to say.
Finally, he speaks. ā€œIt felt like you didnā€™t love me anymore,ā€ Steve says, and Eddie canā€™t help the heartbroken little sound he makes.
ā€œNo,ā€ he says fiercely, and he crowds into Steveā€™s personal space, takes his face in his hands and cradles his cheeks in his palms. ā€œAbsolutely fucking not, baby,ā€ he insists, and Steve reaches up, covering Eddieā€™s hands with his like heā€™s trying to pull all the warmth from Eddie and into himself.
ā€œWhat else was I supposed to think?ā€ Steve asks, ā€œyou were just - you were gone all the time, and you never wanted to talk about it, and you were always busy with stuff that didnā€™t involve me and it was like you didnā€™t want to be around me anymore. And when we fought tonight I thought - I.ā€ He cuts himself off, squeezes his eyes closed tight. ā€œ...I really thought that you might not come back,ā€ he confesses, and Eddie pulls him even closer.
ā€œYou listen to me,ā€ he says, soft but fierce, ā€œand I know my word probably means shit to you right now, because Iā€™ve been the biggest dumbass in the world and broken it, but I need you to hear me when I say this.ā€ Steve opens his eyes, and Eddie stares into them. ā€œI will always come home to you. Even if Iā€™m being a fucking idiot. Even if Iā€™m pulling a runner, if I lose my mind and bolt out of here again, I will come home.ā€ Steveā€™s eyes go all watery, and Eddie gently catches the tears with his thumbs, brushing them from Steveā€™s cheeks.
ā€œSwear,ā€ Steve says, and thereā€™s a desperation in his tone that Eddie wishes he could smooth away, but he knows that will take time. That will take dedication and patience and perseverance and goddammit, Eddie will use every ounce of all that he possesses if thatā€™s what it takes. But for now he holds Steveā€™s gaze and he nods slowly, their faces just inches apart.
ā€œI swear,ā€ he tells him. ā€œI swear to you, Steve Harrington, I will come home. And I will always, always fucking love you.ā€Ā 
Steve gives a little sob. ā€œIā€™m sorry,ā€ he says, and Eddie shushes him.
ā€œNo, angel,ā€ he tells him, shaking his head. ā€œYou got nothing you need to apologize for, okay?ā€ Steve looks like heā€™s going to protest, but Eddie just shifts, pressing his lips to Steveā€™s forehead and lingering there as his baby works to catch his breath.
ā€œCan we go to bed?ā€ Steve asks, and he sounds exhausted down to his bones. Eddie nods.
ā€œOf course, baby,ā€ he says, and he pulls Steve from the guest bed - fucking terrible thing that it is, taking Steve from their room, from their space, the safe little corner of the universe that theyā€™ve carved out together between their sheets. He guides Steve down the hall, tired and stumbling a little, his pretty hair in disarray - his baby didnā€™t even change first, seems like he just curled right up after Eddie left, heā€™s still in his jeans and everything.Ā 
Eddie watches as Steve changes, stripping his clothes off with slow, lethargic movements, and for once they land in a heap on the floor - on top of his sneakers, and that makes Eddieā€™s heart do a funny little flip as he catches Steveā€™s hand to keep him from tripping over the damn things. A fond smile is teasing at Steveā€™s lips, and Eddie returns it.
They curl up together, close as they can get, unsure where one starts and another begins. Relief washes through Eddie as he gets Steve settled into the right bed this time. He buries his hand in Steveā€™s hair and Steve noses at Eddieā€™s throat, turns his head side to side in a slow rhythm that drags his lips over the same little sensitive spot on the underside of Eddieā€™s jaw. Itā€™s not a kiss, not quite - just a touch. A reminder that Eddieā€™s still here. Heā€™ll allow Steve to take as many reminders as he needs for as long as he wants.
ā€œIā€™m sorry I yelled,ā€ Steve whispers, and Eddie wants to tell him once again that he doesnā€™t have to apologize, but he knows this is important to Steve. So he just nods a little, careful not to dislodge him from the warm space heā€™s settled into at the curve of Eddieā€™s neck.Ā 
ā€œI forgive you,ā€ he tells him, and a bit of tension leaves Steveā€™s shoulders. ā€œIā€™m sorry I left,ā€ he whispers, and he feels Steveā€™s lips partā€“ ā€œdonā€™t say you forgive me yet,ā€ he says before Steve can speak. ā€œI got a lot more groveling to do, babylove, donā€™t you dare let me off the hook that easily. I was a fucking jackass. And Iā€™m gonna make it right, and thatā€™s gonna take time, and I know that, and thatā€™s okay, because Iā€™m in this for the long haul, alright?ā€Ā 
Steve is silent for a few moments, weighing Eddieā€™s words. Eddie can feel the brush of eyelashes against his skin as his baby blinks slowly a few times. Then, gradually, the last of the tightness in Steveā€™s frame melts away.
ā€œActually I was gonna say Iā€™m going to get one of those toddler leashes,ā€ he says. ā€œThat way if you try to bolt I can just yank you back.ā€ Eddie snorts out an ugly laugh, and Steveā€™s chuckle echoes his own, and he rolls them both until heā€™s got Steve under him. He just stares at him in the darkness for a few moments, watching his smile fade into something small and private.
ā€œI love you so much,ā€ Eddie says, and Steveā€™s hands come up, slipping beneath Eddieā€™s shirt to rest on the bare skin of his back, fingertips tracing up and down the dip of his spine. ā€œThereā€™s nowhere in the world I wanna be than right here with you.ā€ Steve hums softly and closes his eyes, and Eddie knows itā€™s going to take more than just a few pretty words to prove this to Steve. Thatā€™s okay. Eddieā€™s stubborn. He can stick with it as long as it takes.
ā€œI love you too,ā€ Steve says back, and Eddie leans down, nudging his nose gently into his babyā€™s. Steveā€™s scrunches up, and Eddie presses a quick kiss to it just to hear him laugh, then shifts, brushing his lips against Steveā€™s.Ā 
Steve sighs soft and warm into it, lips parting, and Eddie kisses him slow, devotion pouring out of him and into Steve. And he takes it all - gasps and moans quietly against Eddieā€™s mouth, lax beneath him, letting Eddie nip and bite and suck and soothe at his lips, his tongue, hand slipping to Steveā€™s side - not to start anything. Just to touch. Just to feel. To prove to himself that heā€™s still able to touch this beautiful man, that heā€™s still allowed this wonderful, dizzying love that heā€™s stumbled into.
They fade like that, both tired, Eddieā€™s weight slowly sinking down until heā€™s resting atop Steve. Steveā€™s arms come around him fully until heā€™s hugging him around the waist, and their mouths slip from each otherā€™s to land in the spaces of their shoulders and throats instead, nosing into the warmth and familiarity of the person they love.
And things arenā€™t fixed - they arenā€™t perfect. But theyā€™re working on it, and thatā€™s enough.
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mattodore Ā· 1 month ago
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birthday boy šŸŽ‚
#river dipping#theodore doe#matthias evanoff#a burning house to live in#echthroi#ts4#ts4 edit#simblr#ts4 screenshots#theo i hope you're having the most insane birthday sex rn i hope it's ******** and ***** and ***'** **** *** **** ***** :)<3#sorry i put off making your birthday edit for so long that i had to pivot and post this edit instead of the one i wanted </3#...very funny how similar this is to that LAST render i posted... well so WHAT!! if i think matthias looming is sexy!!#this is based on a photo that everyone was drawing their ocs as so really it's not MY fault he's back there clinging and being a freak#actually if y'all want this pose lmk... i'll share it but fyi it's only meant to be seen from the waist up and idk how it'd look#on a sim that doesn't have the same muscle mass and like. bulk. that matthias has......................................#just got rock hard after typing that... anyway.#HAPPY BIRTHDAY THEO <333333333 LOVE YOU SO MUCH I PROMISE I'M GONNA KEEP WORKING ON THE //ACTUAL// BIRTHDAY EDIT!! like .#posted abt this on the sideblog but the real edit i have planned for him is making me lose my fucking gourd#and it'll probably take me :))) a few more days to figure out#expect a depressing theo-as-a-teenager edit eventually tho. with writing!! accompanying it!!#matthias's face has changed again btw šŸ˜­ i redid it almost immediately after i posted that first render attempt so he looks DIFFERENT!!#i posted screenshots of him in cas just the other day on my other acc and he looks so good in them i might post them here too#oh and!! this edit looks massively different than my last because this screenshot was taken with a new preset i made specifically for#the real birthday edit i'm working on... it's a hallway scene so i figured out depth and density to get this really cool fog effect#i'm really excited for it!! in my head the way it looks makes me crazy but idk if i can pull it off properly. but like i WAS SAYING!!#new preset is sooo sexy after i post this i'll reblog with the before and after to show you how good it looks even w/o any editing#like. the colors....... literally have always wanted a preset like this i'm so glad i spent yesterday fucking around with it#ALSO!! i've been doing those oc/ship dynamic templates for fun recently so i might post a few of them here soon#realize i'm rambling so much in these tags bc i haven't been here in forever kfjnkfjhn ummmmm. let me stop.#EVERYONE WISH THEO HAPPY BIRTHDAY RIGHT NOW šŸ«µā€¼
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raticalshoez Ā· 9 months ago
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is this too niche.
aka i SWEAR i've seen a total drama life series art thing but when i went to go look for it i couldn't find any SOOOOOOO i made it myself
Bonus:
Alenoah as that one desert duo scene because i was stumped on who i should've drawn for that scene
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geminison Ā· 1 year ago
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i saw an angel today. he came to collect the debt
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deoidesign Ā· 4 months ago
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Can you tell who my favorite character is right now...
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arttsuka Ā· 2 months ago
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Based on somewhat real events
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I spent way too much time drawing this...
But yeah, Ford finally saying thank you
A continuation (kinda)
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