lance,,, Keith,,,, the lights of my life,,,, where are your shades or safety glasses on that motorcycle,,,, you will get dirt or rocks in your eyes,,, (I'm not trying to be rude and point out mistakes btw. this isn't meant to offend in anyway, I'm just trying to encourage good safety procedures. I see a lot of art where they don't have things covering their eyes and that's really dangerous)
concept: when the boys are alone on the roof at night and andrew makes neil laugh, it’s a high-pitched giggle: all eye crinkles and nose scrunches, hands cupping mouth and shoulders raised. or when they’re in andrew’s bedroom at columbia, neil laughs with his whole body: lightly falling into andrew’s side, a boyish grin turning his cheeks all aching pink, nuzzling into andrew’s shoulder so as not to disturb the others downstairs. or on late-night drives along empty highways, all open fondness painting his features and the gleam in his eyes when the moon catches just the right angle, tongue peeking out between teeth and eyes turning to crescents. it’s the stolen moments in public—soundless laughs and biting his inner cheek in a failed attempt to stifle his mirth. it’s furious joy and that warm aching feeling because he doesn’t have to be afraid to be happy anymore; he has time.
everyone expected anthony stark to go down in history as ‘howard stark’s son’, but tony made the opposite true. he made it so that when historians would write about the stark legacy centuries later, howard stark ends up being nothing more than a footnote in the biography of tony stark. and that’s the biggest ‘fuck you’ tony could have ever given his father and i love every bit of it.