Living the life.
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“That all you got?”
I bet McCree be one to not shut their trap in the face of danger.
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I really like this clown guy
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sobbing
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ALTi hate studies and portraits with a burning passion cus they bring a certain “right and wrong” and “trust the process” to art that i really dont vibe with
(but my tummy was making the rumblies that only “return to source material” could satisfy) -
I need more mechanic Steve in overalls with his hair kept back with a backwards cap, his face and hands are always smeared with grease and he wears glasses while doing paperwork in his tiny office. A love for cars was the only thing him and his dad had in common but that didn’t stop his dad from disapproving of Steve opening his own shop, a shop where people can come and know that they are going to be taken care of and not be ripped off. The only person Steve has ever overcharged is his dad.
Steve puts an ad in the paper for a receptionist because he’s finding it hard to juggle phone calls and working on cars. He hires Eddie and instantly regrets it because he is very fucking distracting with his tight jeans, cropped tank top and lazy smile when he answers the phone. “Steve’s Garage, how can I help- Oh! Mrs. Harvey, nice to hear from you again.” Eddie pretends to choke himself with the phone cord when Steve looks over. “Your car is making a weird noise again? Oh no, better bring it in.”
Steve rolls his eyes and closes the hood of the car he’s working on so he can wait for Mrs. Harvey. He doesn’t understand how one person can have so many car troubles. “Is she coming now?”
Eddie jumps, which causes the swivel chair to squeak loudly. Steve finds it strange how Eddie always seems so startled whenever Steve speaks directly to him. “Uh, yep! She says her car is making a ‘ka-clunk’ noise.”
Steve runs a hand, his clean hand that is, down his face and groans. “She said that last week as well.”
Eddie taps his fingers anxiously against the desk and, without looking at Steve, asks, “Can I help? We could get it done faster.”
Steve narrows his eyes, he’s not angry, just thinking and probably trying to see because he doesn’t have his glasses on.
“You know cars?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s what I originally came here to apply for, but I was too scared to say no when you asked if I was here for the receptionist job.” Eddie twists a piece of hair in front of his face and avoids the shocked look Steve is giving him. “At least I can add 'receptionist for a month’ onto my resume.”
Steve scoffs and throws the dirty, grease covered rag from his overalls pocket at Eddie. “You’re a shit receptionist. You better be better with cars than you are at answering the damn phone.”
Eddie beams up at him and shoves the rag in the pocket of his jeans, right next to his bandana. “If I’m so shit, why didn’t you fire me?” He teases while walking in step with Steve.
Steve glances at him briefly, a faint blush creeping up his neck to stain his ears and cheeks. “You’re cute.” This is said with a shrug and a small smile.
Eddie blushes and trips over a tire.
(via steddielations)
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all this “bottom rights” and “top rights” discourse…. u fools….. where is my support for switches!
support.nintendo.com
(via fatpikachupics)
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“when’d you start painting your nails?”
the question catches eddie off guard. steve had come over earlier in the day to hang out and it was now close to 8pm. wayne came home a couple hours ago and made dinner for the three of them and eddie was honestly hoping steve would ask to stay the night.
“hm?” eddie aks, looking up from where he’s hunched over his notebook and sketching out his new npc.
steve waves a hand in his direction, lounging against eddie’s pillows like it’s his bed and not eddie’s (it could be their bed, eddie’s brain supplies). “your nails. you never had them like that before… y'know.”
eddie throws him a charming smile. “you been staring at my hands, big boy?”
the flush that graces steve’s cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed. “kind of hard not to,” he deflects, “when you use them like a second mouth.”
he’s talking about the way eddie gesticulates when he’s excited, but the double meaning is still there. even so…
eddie sets the notebook aside and spreads his fingers out, his rings and black nail polish on display.
“honestly,” he sighs. “after vecna and everything, i, uh. wasn’t having a really good time. compared to you guys, it was like i was nine years old again and watching my first horror movie and scared shitless.”
steve scoots closer. “we were like that, too, you know,” he says. “having a go with the upside down wasn’t the walk in the park we made it seem like. we just had more experience.”
eddie nods, then shakes his head. takes a deep breath and exhales. “it was chrissy who said i should start painting them.”
“really?”
“yeah. my nerves were shot and i kept chewing on them until they bled. hurt like a bitch, too, they were so sensitive. chrissy told me she’d do the same thing when her mom wouldn’t back off. said it made her hands look bad, so she started painting them to make them pretty again.”
eddie fiddles with his rings as he speaks so he doesn’t try to chip the polish away instead. his nails aren’t completely healed yet, but they’re getting there. he’s so lost in thought, he jumps when steve’s hand reaches out to cover his.
“i like it,” steve says quietly, rubbing eddie’s knuckles. “looks really metal.”
a grin blooms on eddie’s face and his heart skips a beat. “yeah,” he agrees. “metal.”
