Hi!! So I recently got into the rabbit hole of your AU True Colors and I love it sm, so have this :D!
I'll probably draw Raph or Mikey later bc the designs in general are super cool :D
And I also have a question, don't know if someone has asked this before, but what music do the brothers like in this au? :0 silly question but I'm just curious :]
HITOK!!!!!!
ASASSJKDSJKFDFDJLJDVKNKFS
I LOVE HOW YOU DRAW HIM!!! IM IN TEARS
@hitokshellart Also for your question, my boys’ music taste:
Raph’s music taste hasn’t changed much from canon, he still likes soul music. He and April has karaoke nights a few times a week, and sometimes Splinter even joins them! He likes something a bit more upbeat when exercising, so he also likes to listen to rap, timing his lifts with the beats
Donnie also still likes techno, something lyric-less as to not distract his thinking, but strong beats to head bop to when doing important projects. But when he’s doing something fun like siphoning money from billionaires and hacking the street cams to people watch, he’ll play broadway musicals and sing along to it
Lee likes classical music and salsa, something he usually listens during his routine dance classes each week. He also have a separate playlist with glamrock songs and this kind of music he only plays in the comfort of his room. Relaxing around in his favourite comfy hoodies
Mikey likes to listen to hip hop music when he’s out doing his graffiti art, something with a rhythmic beat and lyrics he can mouth along to. During meditation sessions, he likes to listen to ghibli music, something he found out during one of his missions to the surface. He doesn’t really like the silence, it makes him jittery and lost his focus
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nonsexual d/s for sub Eddie week with art here by @ent-is-indecisive
“Eddie, will you please open the door?”
“I ruined it, Steve, I messed everything up.”
“You didn’t ruin anything, baby, let me in, c’mon.”
All the music from the party almost drowns out Steve’s voice, but a small pathetic piece of Eddie clings to it like an anchor. He opens the door and Steve’s brows knit sympathetically at the state of distress Eddie's in. It’s all fucked up.
His leather sleeve is wet and sticky, he can’t stop raking his fingers through his hair, ruining the nice waves Steve styled for him earlier because he was too much of a wreck to do it himself. It’s all fucked up.
“I fucked up.”
Shaking his head, Steve comes inside and shuts the door behind him. “It wasn’t that bad. Could’ve been worse, remember when Robin threw up in the middle of an audition.”
“Steve, at this point they’re gonna pay me not to make an album,” Eddie stresses, pacing around the bathroom. “I spilled wine all over the guy. Dale fucking Grazer wants to talk serious paper and shake my hand and I just emptied my stupid little glass all over him!”
“It was just wine, not puke or something,” Steve says lightly, trying to bring Eddie down from his frantic state. It works, his voice is a tether for Eddie to grab onto. “Come here, let me fix you up.”
Eddie does as Steve says, not trusting himself to make any more decisions when all he’s done today is fuck up.
Steve guides him over to the sink, wetting a towel and dabbing Eddie’s jacket. He’s so calm, like this isn’t the most important night in Eddie’s life and it’s not already blown and he can still make that hotshot from the record label like him.
Steve’s acting like everything’s fine, which makes Eddie feel stupid and small like he's overreacting, he tries to let Steve’s energy calm him too but it’s hard.
“You’re overthinking, I can see it on your face,” Steve says, being gentle but not in a coddling way that would make Eddie feel even more stupid.
He straightens out Eddie’s sleeve, good as new, then works on Eddie’s hair next. His fingers are soft and skilled and so sure, knowing exactly how to fix it and how to make Eddie melt under his touch.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, just trying to let Steve fix everything. He's way better at fancy parties and schmoozing than Eddie is. He always knows how to get Eddie out of his head and that’s what he needs right now. As pathetic as he feels about it, he needs to stop thinking. Let Steve think for him, even.
“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Steve prompts softly and Eddie is helpless but to let it all out.
“I can’t stop saying the wrong shit. Why’d I tell him my dad’s in prison? Or bring up the dropped murder charges, or all that stuff about ket, I just can’t shut up.”
“No, that’s just you, the whole big personality charismatic rockstar thing. Trust me, that guy’s got star eyes for you.”
“This is just like with Paige’s label. I messed that up, and now I’m ruining Jeff’s chance again, and—”
“No you’re not, that guy loves Jeff already, everybody loves Jeff.”
“You’re right, he’s got this, he doesn’t need me. Let’s just get out of here, make a run for it.”
Eddie barely takes a step before Steve’s hands circle both his wrists, his grip gentle but solid, holding Eddie in place. It flips the same little switch in Eddie as the cuffs they use in the bedroom. It takes away the option to run.
Somewhere in the jumble of his mind, he knows it’s the right choice, trusting that Steve wouldn’t let him make the wrong one.
“We’re not going anywhere, baby, this is your chance too.” Steve rubs up and down Eddie’s arms, guiding him around in front of the mirror.
It’s hard for Eddie to look at himself right now and see it written all over his face. Steve cleaned the stain and made his hair perfect again but he can’t fix whatever’s making Eddie… Well, Eddie. Whatever it is that made him flunk senior year 3 times, or screw up the first chance he had to make something of himself, or the reason Ronnie won’t pick up his phone calls, or the reason Wayne sleeps with his keys on the bedside table in case he has to come running to Eddie’s rescue like always—
Steve’s fingers lightly cup Eddie’s chin, he’s standing behind Eddie now, his body warmly pressed against him.
“Look here, honey.” Steve gently tips Eddie’s head up to meet his own eyes in the mirror. They’re glistening with unshed tears that almost fall when Steve says soft but sure, “You’re not a fuckup,” and prompts Eddie, “Say it.”
Eddie swallows the lump rising in his throat, “I’m not—”
He chokes up a little bit and Steve waits patiently.
“Tell yourself,” Steve whispers, all earnest-eyed in the mirror like all he wants is to make Eddie believe it.
“I’m not a… fuckup,” Eddie gets the words out and a few tears slip free with them.
Steve brushes them away. “You can do this. Say it.”
With a deep breath, Eddie tells himself, “I can do this.”
Steve kisses his temple, gives him a little praise that he admittedly needs so much right now, “You’re gonna be so good.”
Eddie’s mind starts to clear of everything that’s not Steve rocking him slowly in his arms, whispering, “You’re my good boy,” as many times as Eddie needs to hear it. He feels his confidence building back up, getting more comfortable in his skin again with Steve holding him, believing the words Steve made him say in the mirror, believing the words Steve kisses into his neck and loves into his skin. He can do this.
“Aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me,” Steve prompts and Eddie turns a little, blinking slowly, eyes feeling heavy with the slow dose of bliss Steve gave him.
“I’m your good boy,” Eddie murmurs and he believes it.
When they leave the bathroom later, Steve can’t hold his hand through this, but Eddie still feels him.
He charms the fuck out of those suits from the label. They love Jeff, everybody loves Jeff, and they love Eddie too. The whole band is definitely getting signed, at least that’s what Steve says on the ride home.
Eddie greedily soaks up all the praise and attention, feeling a little spacey with it, Steve's big warm hand on his thigh grounding him. He can't wait for them to get home so he can properly thank Steve.
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