My high school and college careers both centered around my drawing. I like things that look pretty. I actually discovered Tumblr this year and absolutely love it because it lets me fully immerse myself in visual goodies.
Anyway, the point is I am a visual person. And as much drawing as I've done, I'm still not to the point where I can draw something straight out of my head and have it come out to my liking. As a result, I've constantly got a head full of images I'd like to be able to get down on paper, but know any attempts to draw them would just result in pure frustration.
The other night I was desperate to get some relief and wanted to do a little writing, too, so I figured why not draw with words?
The exercise was actually really helpful with getting rid of the twitchy desire to see something, without having to form a whole story just to find a place for something I wanted to see.
This was the final result:
It's well past midnight and every light
in the workshop is dark. Tony's still working, but he'd had JARVIS
turn the lights off in deference to the sleeping hunk of muscle
sprawled across his lap; Steve's pinned him where he sits on the cot
in the corner and left him with just the glow of the tablet propped
on his thigh, braced against the wall. Steve's feet are hanging off
the end of the cot—even with his legs bent toward his chest—and
he's got his right hand tucked under Tony's thigh so his fingers curl
around the inside of Tony's knee, but despite how wildly
uncomfortable it must be, he's knocked out cold. Tony brushes his
palm over Steve's shoulder between tablet gestures, returning again
and again for the warmth it leeches into his palm, the steady rise
and fall of Steve's breathing.
Periodically Tony will wince as he
switches from a dark program to a light one, creating a sudden flare
of light, but Steve sleeps on, oblivious, a small, but growing wet
patch forming beneath the corner of his slightly parted lips on
Tony's thigh.
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