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#I haven't been to school in
inkskinned · 7 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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lulughoul · 6 months
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Still obsessed with their insane enemies to lovers pipeline. No one is doing it like them
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caffichai · 3 days
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Regular Abyssal Hunter downtime activities
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whyoneartheven · 5 months
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there are so many "if this gets (insert number) notes i'll do something productive/good for me!" but has there ever been one where someone goes
if this gets 10k notes i'll slap myself in the face
i suppose i'm wondering
would people be so eager to reblog if it would cause something slightly unpleasant?
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expelliarmus · 16 days
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keithbutgay · 9 months
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What do you mean the irl Edogawa Ranpo was gay. What do you mean he traveled with his boyfriend researching the history of homosexuality in Japan. What do you mean they had a competition on who could find the most books about gay sex. WHAT DO YOU MEAN-
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peridots-pixiwolf · 2 months
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[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.
Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.
In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]
If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)
Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]
The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]
> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!
Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.
Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.
Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional” color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.
Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.
Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.
Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!
Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.
Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).
(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)
Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).
Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]
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#survivor rain world#monk rain world#hunter rain world#nightcat rain world#gourmand rain world#artificer rain world#rivulet rain world#spearmaster rain world#saint rain world#enot rain world#slugcat rain world#rain world#peridots-art#< feels like too long since that last tag's been used. i can say with certainty that the majority of the reason i haven't been just as#active here (not to mention not drawing as often since that's relevant) is just due to my life getting busier with a new school year but i#do miss putting my stuff here! and would like to reblog more on top of that.... so forgive not remembering exactly how to tag everything#(and how to write everything up there but to be fair it's not like long textposts were a staple of mine. i mostly just rambled and it was#fun hehehe.....some of those notes (parts of riv/spears mostly) were written around the beginning of the drawing itself)#OH i messed something up with the drafting and really did not mean to post it while tags were in progress! but regardless. i would've liked#to post it tomorrow to mirror how i was going to post it on JAN 29 a month ago......but it's not like i'm unhappy with this outcome :]#to sum it up really though it's been strange working on this for so long.....unfortunate to not get a chance to let it be seen and keep#experimenting with odd biology much earlier but i'm just glad it's out now cause i am proud of these!! it's been a lot of fun and slugcats#are still my go-to doodles :] if i had to end this off promptly though what's up with that secret pipeyard shelter as gourm that's not on#the maps. connected to vs_a04. doesn't appear on the miraheze or interactive maps for anyone strangely but i've only been there as gourmand#anyway! i'm sure there's a lot i could've said in the rush but goodbye dear reader anyway :]#i forgot spearmy initially. i'm so sorry
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mewkwota · 13 days
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I Know What You Are... You Are Mega Man!
The differences between each Mega is something I love and appreciate, plus it's also fun to compare them side-by-side for it.
I think it's really amusing how they start with robots that slowly reach near-human traits, and then there's a straight-up human. Albeit, he is merged with a non-human being.
And then there's Volnutt. I know he could probably be narrowed down to an "artificial human", but I like the idea of tying him to his celestial origins as Trigger that are still half a mystery.
Such is my running-joke with him. He is just... Volnutt (currently).
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nihil-ghost · 2 months
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save me joy of creation... (;Д;)
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slymanner · 9 days
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Friday Night Funkin - WeekEnd 1
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juicyyyboxxx · 1 year
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I did a thing
Will I ever finish said thing?
No, but here's the thing I did regardless
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plumpybread · 15 days
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whore
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gracelesstars · 2 months
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"Back when you first came into my life, I recalled a place that I knew as a child A special place One that I held close to my heart Won’t you lead me in a dance down this winding road where light and shadow entwine to take hold of the thoughts of the one left far behind? Know that, sometimes, I want to turn around and see the things that I’ve passed on the journey, but know with love on my side, with courage and pride, I’ll fight I will carry on"
R.I.P. Akira Toriyama
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solarmorrigan · 3 months
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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 12 (End!)
Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Ao3
[Warning for brief references to sex; nothing explicit happens]
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For the first time in a long time, Steve wakes slowly.
His alarm isn’t blaring at him and neither is his brain; it’s quiet, and the room is filled with morning sun, and Steve is warm, and comfortable, and still a little muzzy with the heavy sort of sleep that usually only comes to him when he’s physically exhausted or feeling safe (usually the former).
He blinks at the blurry mess of color that is his wallpaper and tries to remember what day it is, tries to will himself to get up, because he’s sure there’s something he’s supposed to be doing, but it’s hard. He’s so comfortable. He turns his face further into his pillow, pressing in where it’s warm and firm and– breathing.
Steve sits up.
Beside him, Eddie is still asleep, lying sprawled across the mattress with one arm flung half over the side and the other stretched out where it had been curled around Steve’s back before Steve pulled away. There’s a red mark on his chest where Steve’s head had been resting, and he’s sure there’s a corresponding splotch of red on his cheek.
As the sleepy fog finally lifts from his brain, the previous night filters back in, and Steve can’t help the smile that follows. He shifts a little just to feel the pleasurable ache in his muscles, to feel the warmth of the cocoon of sheets around them, to feel the way the mattress dips beneath the weight of a second body, and sighs contentedly.
He’s just considering lying back down when Eddie groans, a drowsy frown pulling at his face.
“Where’d you go?” he asks, eyes still closed (at least, Steve’s sure that’s what he means to ask; it comes out a little more like “Whrd y’go?”, and he’s pleased that his ability to decipher Eddie’s half-awake mumbling hasn’t suffered in its absence of use).
“I didn’t go anywhere, I’m right here,” Steve says, laying his palm over Eddie’s chest and running his thumb along the ridge of his collarbone.
Eddie hums, bringing his hand up from over the edge of the bed to place it over Steve’s. “‘s too early to be awake,” he mutters, a little more coherent this time. “Come back.”
“It’s not even that early. It’s…” Steve ducks and squints a little to bring his alarm clock into focus, everything still a little blurry without his contact lenses in. “Holy shit, it’s past ten.”
“See? Early.” Eddie reaches up with his free hand to pat around for a hold on Steve’s arm so he can tug at him. “Lay back down.”
“I never sleep this late, what the hell,” Steve mutters, and Eddie finally opens his eyes, giving Steve a grin that’s equal parts sleepy and self-satisfied.
“Wore you out, didn’t I?” he asks.
“Oh, yeah, I’m exhausted,” Steve deadpans, before proceeding to flop back down onto Eddie’s chest, smirking at the little ‘oof’ he earns. “I don’t know if I can even move. Hope you don’t have to pee anytime soon.”
Eddie shrugs. “Eh, if I do, it’s your bed, not mine.”
“Ew. Dude.” Steve props himself back up on his elbow in order to wrinkle his nose at Eddie.
“You’re the one who brought it up,” Eddie says with a smirk, and – shit, Steve’s really missed this.
Eddie is one of the only people in the world Steve feels like he can completely be himself around. He’s second only to Robin (everyone will always be second to Robin, that’s just a given), and that’s what had devastated Steve most when he’d heard what Eddie had to say about their relationship. He thought he’d let Eddie see all of him, and Eddie hadn’t seen anything worth wanting.
Worth loving.
But that, apparently, hadn’t quite been the case.
“Hey,” Eddie calls Steve’s attention back, picking his hand up off his chest to press a kiss to the back of it. “Where’d you go?”
No, that hadn’t been the case at all.
Steve shakes his head. “Nowhere,” he promises. “I’m right here.”
He leans down for a kiss, and Eddie pulls their combined hands aside to meet it, bringing his free hand up to curl into Steve’s hair, cradling the back of his head.
It isn’t as though all the hurt has healed – all of Steve’s doubts and insecurities haven’t magically disappeared. As much as Steve might wish, it isn’t as though the last several weeks never happened. They can’t change any of that now, but Eddie’s honesty, his openness– openness from them both will take them a long way forward.
The idea still sits as a bit new to Steve: honesty. He’s used to people saying one thing and doing another. He’s used to being expected to decipher convoluted social cues and having to intuit unspoken messages. He’s used to not being allowed to ask for what he wants and just accepting whatever he’s given.
This, he thinks, will be better.
The kiss doesn’t end so much as it slides into another, and another, until Eddie and Steve have rolled to their sides, legs tangled together beneath the blankets, mouths sliding against one another, lazy and unhurried. There’s a hint of heat beneath their movements, something that could spark into more if they let it, but Steve is content with just this for now. There will always be time for more later.
Eddie hums deep in his chest when the kisses trail to an end, voice still warm and sleep-rough, and Steve rests his forehead against Eddie’s, unwilling to go too far away just yet.
“Good morning,” Steve says when Eddie opens his eyes again, and he can feel the puff of Eddie’s sigh against his lips.
“Don’t say that,” Eddie whines. “If you say that, we have to get up.”
Steve gives a little laugh. “We can’t stay in bed all day, Eddie.”
“Sure we can,” Eddie drawls, pushing at Steve’s shoulder until he takes the hint and rolls onto his back, only to have Eddie lay down on top of him, pressing him into the mattress. “In fact, I think that’s a great idea.”
“Do you seriously have no other plans for the day?” Steve asks, as if he has any pressing engagements himself.
Eddie presses a kiss to the base of Steve’s throat, humming thoughtfully. “Maybe one or two,” he says, trailing a few more kisses up the side of Steve’s neck.
“Besides that,” Steve huffs, though he makes no move to stop Eddie when his hand comes to rest on the waist of Steve’s pajama pants.
“What am I, an event planner?” Eddie asks, but he does pull away from Steve’s neck with a petulant (and largely exaggerated) sigh. “Fine. How about we stay in bed most of the day and then… we can go back to mine for dinner?”
Steve looks up at Eddie, brows drawing together as he thinks. “What’s at yours that we’d need for dinner?”
Eddie shrugs. “Nothing, really. It’s just been a while,” he says quietly.
And– well, it has. Eddie’s trailer used to be one of the places Steve had felt most comfortable, but he hasn’t spent more than a few minutes there in passing since he’d emptied it of his things. He misses it there – how warm and welcoming it always was, how he’d felt like he belonged there.
What if he goes back now and it’s changed? What if he feels as out of place there now as he does in his own house?
He must spend a moment too long thinking about it, because Eddie begins to backpedal.
“But if you don’t want to, we totally don’t have to, we can just–”
“No,” Steve cuts in. “Let’s go to yours for dinner.”
A slow-growing smile pulls across Eddie’s face, and Steve can tell he’s fighting the urge to duck and hide it.
“Wayne misses you, y’know,” Eddie says, and now it’s Steve who’s ducking away from eye contact.
“Misses my cooking, I bet,” he jokes, but Eddie shakes his head.
“Misses you. He does like you, Steve. He asked where you were, after– after everything,” Eddie says, and Steve isn’t sure what the hell he’s supposed to say to that, or if he even can speak around the sudden, weird choke of emotion in his throat. Eddie, as if he can sense his dilemma, saves Steve from having to respond. “He misses your cooking too, though, let’s be real. He had the audacity to tell me the other day that my mac and cheese isn’t as good as yours. It was your recipe!”
Steve laughs, and Eddie really plays up the offense.
“And you know the worst part? He was right,” Eddie laments. “It’s the same recipe, how does that even work?”
“So, what I’m hearing is that you want me to come to your house and cook you dinner,” Steve teases, smirking up at Eddie.
Eddie subsides just a little, packing away his theatrical energy in order to smile back down at Steve. “I just want you to come over. I’ll order dinner if you want. Hell, I’ll submit myself to public ridicule and try cooking for you again.” He cups Steve’s cheek in one hand and leans in to kiss him gently. “Whatever you want, Steve, I’m there.”
“Yeah?” Steve asks, quiet, almost breathless with the depth of Eddie’s promise.
“Yeah,” Eddie answers, his smile as ridiculous and smitten as the look on Steve’s own face must be. “I’m right here with you.”
And Steve decides he likes the sound of that. He likes it very much.
-
Thank you to everyone who gently threatened me encouraged me to continue the first part of this story, it's been so fun to write and to see everyone interact with! You've all been very kind, and I hope the ending satisfies <3
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black-and-yellow · 9 months
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Ingenue
Reel it in.
(NB even though this reads right to left, the pages are ordered so that they will be in order when scrolled through on full screen)
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expelliarmus · 6 months
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