#i hope you enjoyed it!

[shou-jpeg]

-Back on the Beat-

Part 4. 06

One year later

November 19th, 9:50pm 

Kim hits a high note and the crowd goes wild. 

He’s sweaty and high on adrenaline, approaching the end of his largest show yet. 

It’s only a few hundred people, but it’s also a sold out show, and Kim still feels a little overwhelmed with that knowledge.

Porchay is in the crowd. 

He had walked into their apartment five weeks ago and announced to Kim that he was going to celebrate the end of his first year of university by devoting himself wholly to being WiK’s #1 fan; a job he then applied himself to with as much, if not more gusto than he applied himself to studying medicine. 

He looks ridiculous right now, dressed head to toe in unofficial, homemade WiK merch. He’s also holding a handmade sign above his head and Kim has to stop himself from smiling like an idiot every time he looks over at him so his fans don’t start rumours.

They'd agreed to keep their relationship on the down-low, for now. Only while Kim builds his audience, since being single sells.

He holds Chay’s gaze throughout the entirety of the song they wrote together and the people around Chay are definitely noticing. Kim isn’t doing a very good job at being subtle, he thinks.

Oh well. 

He’s exhausted, but he raises his arms over his head and makes a heart with his fingers to thank his audience as he closes the set. The crowd goes wild once more and Chay is giggling into his hand over something.

He’s so cute. 

He’s probably laughing at Kim though, Kim thinks warily. 

~~~

A few days later, Chay announces that a photo of Kim from his concert is going viral on twitter and is doing wonders to boost his popularity both nationally and internationally. Something about people thinking he’s cute?

Kim considers how much he can press and the wary way the bodyguards back at the compound look at him when he walks past. 

He’s definitely not cute.

Porchay won’t let him see his phone though, and he can't be bothered to check himself.

Whatever. So long as it’s getting him good reviews.

May 23rd, 6:05pm - a few months earlier

“I think Jimbo likes you more than me now.”

Porchay scoffs. “That’s just because I���m the one who feeds him most of the time. You’re always out these days, being all popular and in demand. What will we do when you become proper famous?”

“You don’t like having a popular boyfriend?” Kim pouts, turning to look at Porchay from where he lies on the bed, watching him play with their cat. Porchay only moved in last week, yet he’s taken on being a cat parent like nothing else. Kim has barely even cleaned the litter this past week. It’s been a weird disruption to his daily routine, but it has given him a lot less to worry about with his increasingly erratic schedule. 

He released the song they wrote together last month and it hit the national top 10. He’s had three different studios reach out, wanting to sign him. 

Kim tries not to think about it too much; it’s too overwhelming, how good he feels about it. The bars he usually performs in are starting to become too small for the crowd that he draws. 

He should probably hire a manager. 

Porchay looks up at him. “P’Kim as your biggest fan, I could not be more thrilled to be dating my idol. It’s like I’m living inside of a fanfiction.”

Kim hums, hesitant.

“Does that mean we get to live happily ever after?”

It’s way too soon, they’ve only been together six months. Kim was ready to spend his life with Chay from the moment Chay unblocked him, but he’s pretty sure there are rules around these things. 

Kim isn’t good at this. Porchay told him so himself… though he was smiling at him fondly when he did. 

He’s smiling that same smile at him again now. 

“Yeah,” Chay says, soft. “We get to live happily ever after, p’Kim.”

February 10th, 9:28am

“I want to study medicine.”

Porsche looks at him with almost comical surprise, and Porchay tries not to laugh at his expression.

They’re out at their new weekly brunch date together, and Chay has been waiting for the right moment to bring this topic up. He’s spent a lot of time over the past few months, both on his own and with Kim’s help, figuring out what he wants to do with his future. He’s feeling pretty confident in his choice, but he hasn’t even begun looking at universities yet and enrollments are coming up soon. 

“I’m not sure what field I want to specialise in yet, but I’ve thought a lot about it and medicine feels like the right direction for me. I should have at least a year of classes before I have to choose my field - I want to feel it out a little and see what feels right for me. I was hoping you could help me look at university courses?”

Porsche puts his fork down and settles back, serious but obviously trying to hold back his glee. “Of course, Chay. We can get you into any university you want.”

“No!” Chay interrupts him, “I want to get in on my own merit. I only want help finding a good course… please…”

Porsche smiles at him, big and wide and happy. “You can do it! Come around here, let’s start now!”

Chay gets up and moves around to join Porsche on his side of the table, bringing his phone with him. 

“Okay, so I’ve already been looking at a couple courses. Tell me what you think, hia…”

February 6th, 11:39pm

“What about some sort of doctor?”

Porchay looks up at Kim. 

They’ve been going through lists upon lists of career ideas and quizzes and self help guides. It’s been nearly four hours and Porchay really shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was with the seriousness and intensity at which Kim approached the task. 

Kim loves solving cases and sorting through things. It’s something Porchay discovered recently, and even though the topics themselves sometimes aren’t so cute, the way Kim gets when he has something to solve in front of him definitely is. 

He reaches over to smooth the little furrow between Kim's brows. “What kind of doctor?”

“I don’t know. You said before that you wanted to do something to help people, but didn’t put your own self at risk.” He's right, but it’s also a little left field. All the results from Porchay’s quizzes have pointed him in the direction of something creative, and they haven’t done much research outside of creative careers yet. 

Doctor. 

Porchay thinks about Porsche and his new, scary job. He thinks about Kim and his tendency to push himself too hard. 

He thinks about Khun, and Kinn and all the bodyguards.

Doctor. 

Yeah. Something about that feels right.

January 26th, 10:45am

It’s their two month anniversary and Porchay is nearly jumping on his heels as he waits in the lobby of Kim's building. Kim approaches slowly, trying to look cool and not at all as nervous as he feels inside. 

Chay has been secretive about today, only telling Kim to keep his schedule completely clear. He's been distracted every time they've seen each other over the past couple of weeks abd Kim has had to put a surprising amount of effort into not trying to suss out what Chay has been planning for them. 

An effort that proved even more challenging when Khun's crytic texts began rolling in even couple of days.

Of course it turns out Khun was on the money with everything. As usual.

“You never use it, so I stole it back the other week and made you this.”

November 28th, 10:35am 

“I’m a little nervous.” Chay is sitting across from him, boba tea in hand and a light flush to his cheeks. 

They’re at their usual boba tea spot, but it’s also their first date.

Kim is feeling the same. 

“Mmmm.”

Chay laughs at him lightly. “P’Kim! Are you nervous too? You’ve hardly said anything since we got here.”

Kim takes a moment to consider, looking up from his tea at Chay’s slowly growing smile. 

“...mmmm.” Chay laughs loudly enough that a few people around them turn in their direction. Kim smiles. 

Success.

THE END

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[osamusriceballs]

The Accident - Part XII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: Kissing, mentions of an affair

Words: ~ 1,8 k

About: Problems in paradise.

Part I II -> Next Part

You're about to kiss Atsumu Miya.

You feel his lips brushing against yours, a feather-light touch that makes you hesitate and freeze. He stays still, not pulling back, but his eyes slightly open when he senses you're not moving further. Your faces are only inches apart, your breath meeting his lips when you exhale shakily and a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his lips brush against yours again. A frown clouds his face, and he suddenly tilts his chin, pressing his lips harder against yours, coaxing you to join in and to come closer. Your breath catches before you surrender to the kiss, the tension between you rising as you slowly move your lips with his.

You barely notice his hand in your hair as a he guides your face to his direction, deepening the kiss effectively while his lips move ever so gently against yours. Your hands come to rest on his chest, warmth radiating through his shirt and you can feel his heart beating strongly under your palm. Every thought vanishes when he opens his lips, his tongue brushing against yours, making you gasp a little at the sudden action and you willingly open your lips for him. Your fingers tightly grip his shirt, and his other hand hesitates on your side before wrapping around you firmly when he notices that you make no attempt to back off, and he pulls you closer until you're caged against his chest.

Your body feels ablaze, mind hazy and your thoughts foggy, as the kiss intensifies. You're barely able to catch your breath in between the kisses, but you're both not willing to pull back, but instead get lost in each other's taste. A tingling sensation runs through your body, heat building between your legs and you slightly press your legs together to relieve some tension. A part of you wants to feel more of him, to sit on his lap to press yourself harder against his body while you keep on kissing him. Does he feel the same?

His movements slow down, and he pulls back, effectively ending the kiss between you. His face lingers close, wide pupils, reddened cheeks, and a teasing lick over his lips draws your eyes downwards. You almost lean in for another kiss, your whole body feeling like its on fire and singing with need for him. His arms release you, creating distance, and you quickly withdraw your hands from his body and scoot back to your original place, almost sitting on Atsumu's phone while you do so.

"I think that's... sufficient for the dare." He clears his throat, his voice a bit raspy, and you nod with a strained laugh. For the dare. It's just an entertaining game for him- and now things are getting awkward.

"Uhm, yeah. But uh... it's kind of getting late? I think I should go." You quickly get on your feet, avoiding looking at him while you make a beeline for your shoes at the entrance. You can't believe that you kissed him- or he kissed you- or you both kissed each other, it doesn't really matter at this point.

You can't deny that it felt good. Really good. Atsumu Miya is a great kisser- and you don't know what to do with that information. You don't even know what he feels for you- are there even feelings involved from his side? Or is this just a game for him?

"You- y/n, ya don't hafta-" You hear him get on his feet quickly, running behind you and standing next to you while you tie your shoes. "I didn't mean to- it was just a dare-"

You freeze for a second, feeling like he just punched you. "I know. It's not- we're not." You clear your throat and raise to your full height, realizing that he is so close to you- way too close for you to think clearly. Worry clouds his features as he looks down on you.

"I didn't - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed ya for a game. I kinda overstepped things." He scratches the back of his head and you notice that his ears are pink which makes him look adorable- but now it only makes your heart break when he apologizes for kissing you. What did you expect? For him to instantly tell you that he likes you after the kiss? That he somehow feels just as attracted to you as you're attracted to him? You can't deny that he has a part of your heart already. His kindness, his charm, his dorky humor- it all makes your heart flutter like crazy when you think about him, and you can't help but to imagine a possible future for you.

But now you're almost certain that he is just looking for some fun. A game. That's what you are for him. He's just looking for someone to kill his time and it seems like you're here just for that. You curse yourself for letting traitorous hope caging your heart.

"Please don't sweat it, it was me who started it, I should apologize. It was just a game, right? Just some fun. Everything's fine between us, don't worry. We're married after all right? A kiss is definitely not the weirdest thing that has happened between us." You force a smile on your lips and grab your bag, effectively creating some distance between the two of you. You wish that everything's okay, but it's not. He weakly lowers his arms, appearing somewhat hurt at your words, and you feel guilt in the pit of your stomach. "Are you sure? I can drive you home. Ya wanna eat dinner together tomorrow? Ya said yer free." You simply nod without really taking in his words and turn away from him. "I'll find my way out, don't worry. Sleep well, Atsumu."

He looks like you've punched him again, but he finally nods when you grab the doorknob. "Sleep well, y/n."

You just hope he can't see your watery eyes.

xxx

"What do you mean, you kissed and ran away?" Yachi's voice comes delayed through the phone, probably because you're in the elevator. Your first instinct was to grab your phone and to call her, the distress in your voice evident while you told her what had just happened.

"It was a dare. We didn't kiss like that," you clarify, but your voice is still shaky. You feel overwhelmed, unable to process your feelings. You both kissed, and you basically ran away from him, not even asking about his feelings. What does he think about you?

"Wait—I thought you two were alone. Who dared you to do that?"

"An app."

"So you kissed because of a teenage app?" She gasps and you can vividly picture her face with a shocked expression when she repeats the words.

"That sounds like an excuse." She adds, and you can't help but to nod.

"It's... complicated," you finally admit, struggling to put your feelings into words.

"Why did you run away?"

"I got scared. He said it was just a dare. I felt like it was a game for him."

"Was that before or after you ran away?"

"Both. He even repeated it two times." You put a hand over your face and sigh.

"He may have wanted to put you out of the uncomfortable situation."

"I... I just don't know how I feel about him. I really liked the kiss, but I can't read him. He wants to meet me tomorrow though."

"He asked to meet you again? Y/n, go talk to him now! Get back and ask him about it! I'll kick your ass if you leave like that. Seriously y/n. I know it's a lot, but you can't just leave like that." She sounds like she's on fire while she scolds you, and you shrink into the wall when you realize that you might have wronged him here.

"You're right. I'll go and talk to him. Clarify things. Tell him how I feel." You inhale deeply and push yourself off the wall with newly found determination. You can always trust on Yachi to have your back.

You look up when the doors of the elevator suddenly open and hastily click on Atsumu's floor number while another woman gets with you into the elevator. You smile politely while you still hold the phone against your ear and nod as a greeting, and she smiles back, revealing a smile that is so perfect that it could be straight out of a commercial.

"Call me when you're done! Don't just leave him like that. You like him and I'm sure he likes you too." Yachi's words encourage you further and you smile when you thank her.

"Thanks. I'll call you." You hang up the call and put your phone in your bag, noticing in the corner of your eyes that the woman next to you has stopped smiling. You frown when you suddenly notice her red shirt with the number 21 on it- similar to Atsumu's shirt. It's without a doubt a fanshirt of Atsumu, you're certain about that after looking at it for a few more seconds. A fangirl? A glance to the display shows you that she wants to go to the same floor as you- and your heart suddenly drops when a suspicion arises within you.

You catch her eyes again, and she raises an eyebrow when she notices that you're staring at her shirt. "Are you a fan? I could get you an autograph if you want one." She breaks the silence and you stare at her with widened eyes. "You- you know Atsumu Miya?"

She laughs and plays with her long brown hair- and you don't fail to notice how pretty she is. She could be a model with her looks, that's for sure. And she knows Atsumu. "Honey, let me tell you. I have Atsumu Miya in the palm of my hand. I don't want to ruin your fantasies, but he is not as single as he appears on social media." She gives you a wink and you freeze. "You okay? You look a bit pale, darling."

Your chest feels heavy and your stomach turns at her words. There is no way. This can't be true. "I'm fine. No, I'm not a fan. But thanks for the offer."

The elevator opens its doors and she exits, waiting for you to come out too, but you can't move. It's like your body is glued to the floor, weighted down by the sheer thought of Atsumu and the beauty before you being together- for whatever reason.

"I forgot something downstairs." You reply and mechanically push the button of the ground floor. She just shrugs her shoulder and moves into the direction of Atsumu's door, not even sparing you another glance while she strides away. If you had any doubt about her words, you were now certain that she knows him when you see her halting at his door before the elevator doors fall shut.

She knows this place. She's going to his apartment in the middle of the night. While the elevator smoothly runs down, you come to the conclusion that you apparently don't know anything about Atsumu.

The only thing you certainly know is he not only has you as his official wife.

But Atsumu Miya also has a girlfriend.

[yourlocalzombiewriter]

Thank you all for 100 likes!!

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

I hope to write more soon!, please feel free to suggest ideas or request. Again thank you so much!!.

[circa-specturgia]

“Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.”

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

Behind you, a half pace behind, you can hear your work shoes. Their heels hits the pavement in their own distinct sound. Your fingers still remember the way you’d tie their black laces and tighten their black leather.

You walk still, trying to pay them little mind. It’s not the first time you’d heard them behind you. It likely won’t be the last.

Each step adds a gram of weight to the ring on your finger.

Each step a reminder of the long night hours. The office. The silence. The empty nightstand. The hospital waiting room.

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

Somewhere behind them, pair of socks over bare feet shuffle over the freshly-set floorboards. Maple, like you’d always talked about.

The wind blows through your hair, whistling in your ears the first notes of a melody you once remembered. A melody you’d danced to on that floor, in the middle of the night.

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

A pair of hiking boots, a bit further behind you, break a twig that you’d stepped over a moment ago. Their step has more life to it, more vigor, as it joins the march down the empty road.

The breeze carries the hint of a scent, despite the boots being behind you. Sap. fresh green-pine air. The frigid bubbling stream, the blue clouds and white sky. The rain. Sweat and laughter.

The moon shines through the clouds and for a moment the way it’s rays pierce them is the exact same as the suns atop that mountain from the magazines you’d only talked about until that summer.

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

Your old sneakers plod against asphalt, dripping rainwater in the windy night, somewhere far, far behind you.

The balls of your feel and heels ache at the sound, brought back a moment to a long-ago night.

To the wind in your hair, the tears mixing with the sky’s downpour, glasses fogged up. Heart filled with adrenaline and excitement and fear and love.

Knuckles against a bright green door, sore shaky voice against red ears, lips against lips, relieved and bare laughter against laughter.

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

It’s barely in reach of your ears, and over the other pairs, you hear the proud marching of a grade schooler.

Walking with pride and head held high in defiance of the worries that may come ahead with blissful, simple, wonder, for every day.

Distracted by any bug or stick or rock on the way home.

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

Of disjointed steps and strides a heartbeat sounds out, walking down an empty night road.

You sit, on the bench, at the end of the road.

Afraid to look back. Afraid of their faces looking forward. Afraid of what you’d think of yourself.

Instead, they sit beside you. One, by one. A slightly younger person grasps your hand and squeezes it, a bit too tights their hand is less bony than yours. The ring fits better, not slipping down to their knuckle. It’s all they need to do.

You sit there. Beside you, your life, your memories. Their steps, leading you to this bench, under the moon and clouds and stars.

Yours was not the only set of footsteps you’d heard, even though you’d thought you’d been walking alone.

All you’d need have done had been listened for a moment, to have heard them behind you, always. In empathy do your struggles, in awe of your successes.

Now, their echoing footsteps have gone still, and silent, leaving just the breath, and the view.

This time, the footsteps come from ahead.

You know who they belong to in a heartbeat, as their fingers lace through yours at your side.

You sigh, the sound lost on the wind. Your eyes look to them, as a weary, long-thought-out smile comes to rest in your crows feet.

You’d heard footsteps whenever you were alone, all your life.

As you stand, and begin to walk with them, the rest stay under that moonlit bench, letting the two of you walk home in the quiet.

- Written between 1-2 AM, from the middle of a quiet field

[perpetualexistence]

Are you okay with/want me to tag you in posts about the alecody au

Oh absolutely!! Please do tag me, I want to know all about the alecody AU and how it develops!

Also just for people in general, I'm completely fine if you guys tag me in things! I encourage it even!

...Though I will say that if it's one of those mention games that I most likely won't actually participate because I end up saying 'oh of course I'll reply and tag others!' and then I forget and/or lose the urge. But I always appreciate it regardless!

[quietwingsinthesky]

👉🏻👈🏻 I don't know if you ship them so if you don't want to do this it's fine but could I get lucifer/castiel with the prompt "freedom"

(Rule of thumb is that I basically ship everything in this fandom to some degree besides like. 3 ships that squick me out, and none of them are angel/angel ones <3 so hell yeah CasLuci!)

(Also, as promised, for the wait, this is… a bit more than a drabble. Uh. Just by a little bit. Gonna start working through the other prompts in my ask box too, because you know what, I managed to focus enough to get 4 1/2 fics done for Lucifer week, and I’m happy with that.)

It’s Heaven’s own abuse that knocks Castiel free from his shackles. They're too greedy in their control. If they had left him a spare inch of his own mind unravaged, a rock unturned, then the memories would have remained buried. They are some of the first ever scarred over until Castiel couldn’t touch the surface of them, but when his superiors dig into his mind to purge his disobedience, they break the ground enough that in the aftermath, when he is reeling in pain and fear, he can claw up what they recklessly unearthed.

He clings to them. He adopts a soldier’s guise and swears himself back to Heaven, all while he turns the memories over in his grace again and again. There’s only a few. Heavily damaged, mere fragments of his past. Some of them fill him with grief, a few words in Balthazar’s voice or the safety of Uriel protecting him in a battle Castiel can’t remember. Some of them are only time capsules of a world forgotten, a child’s sleepy prayer he heard one morning, the way the sun glinted off the leaves of a long-extinct plant, a vessel he took back when humans were first figuring out how to paint teaching him how to draw a bison on a cave wall.

But some of them are so bright, Castiel can hardly look at them. Some of them are powerful wings catching up to him in flight and then drawing him close. Some of them are praise in an archangel’s melodic Enochian, spilling like sunlight down Castiel’s spine. Some of them are promises, ones Castiel isn't about to break.

Castiel can’t remember most of his existence. It’s been taken from him. He’s been told that all he’s known in that whole shattered life is Heaven’s love, and that love is the greatest that anyone can offer.

In these tiny moments that Castiel hoards, Lucifer’s love overpowers everything he has ever felt.

Zachariah declares him fit for duty, eager to get one of his best back into the field, and needing Castiel down there quick to cover for Uriel’s loss. (If only Heaven had declared him disobedient sooner, Castiel could have saved his brother. He would have understood Uriel. All he can do now is vow that he will not forget his brother; he will not let him be taken from Castiel as the memory of Lucifer was.)

From this moment on, Castiel does not serve Heaven. He certainly does not serve Zachariah.

But as he has Lucifer’s memory, he also has his example to protect him. Castiel is only one angel. His rebellion must be silent. His cause cannot be noticed by those watching him, waiting for an excuse to drag him back and tear him apart again.

He feels terrible when he has to free Sam from the panic room, but he understands now. Sam is the only one who can set Lucifer free, and Castiel must be there to open the way. If his own hands could break the final seal, he’d challenge Lilith himself. That’s not how it goes.

He doesn’t expect to die. He blames Dean for that, with no ill will, because Dean makes him feel like he can break the universe in half and suffer no consequences. He reminds Castiel of Lucifer in that way, his brother urging Castiel to look at the world differently than anyone else would, to think and to question and to choose.

He doesn’t expect to live, either, but then he is, fallen in the dirt with his head turned up to the sky. Before he can blink, it cracks open with light that Castiel could never mistake for anything else.

The news will report a devastating earthquake that happened in that moment.

To Castiel, it feels as if the Earth is frozen still. It’s over too soon. The light of Lucifer’s grace escapes and breaks like lightning across the clouds. Castiel stumbles to his feet. All he can do is follow.

He’s weaker than he should be. He can already feel the effects of Heaven cutting him out like a tumor, difficult, disobedient, destructive Castiel, who was given more chances than any other angel in Heaven and threw them all away. If only they knew the love he flew to now, the rest of them wouldn’t dare look down on him.

By the time Castiel reaches Lucifer, he has taken a vessel. It isn’t Sam, but Lucifer shines inside him all the same. He isn’t as Castiel remembers him, but then, Castiel imagines he carries more scars than he ever did as a young angel following the morningstar around.

He has no idea if Lucifer will even remember him. No memories to tell him if he was one of many angels Lucifer courted or if it was only him.

Lucifer is still an archangel. Castiel does what comes naturally. He kneels.

Lucifer stares at him for a few moments

“Stand up, little brother,” he says, softly, like he isn’t yet used to the vocal cords he’s borrowing. It took Castiel a little while to learn how to adapt Jimmy’s to his liking. He understands the disorientation of new flesh, and it comes to him that this is something he can offer Lucifer: the experience of wielding his own vessels. He doesn’t know if Lucifer has ever taken one before this. If he ever expected to have to need one beyond Sam.

(Guilt twinges in Castiel’s grace. He likes Sam, flawed as he is. Lucifer won’t hurt him, will he?)

“I know you,” Lucifer continues as he steps closer. His vessel is dressed in his sleep clothes, soft and comfortable. Castiel stands slowly. Lucifer cups his face as his rises. The rush of sensory nerves cannot possibly hope to compare to the ways in which Lucifer’s grace surrounds him. His eyes light up with recognition. “Castiel,” he says, “I should have known, of all my brothers, you would be the one to come back to me.”

His love breaks like a wave upon Castiel. Castiel wants to tell him so many things, the tortures Heaven inflicted on the rebellious after his Fall, the way humanity has grown and changed, for better and worse, since the days of Cain and Abel, the fact that Castiel was not the only one to remember him and still love him (for Uriel and him could not be the only ones to want Lucifer freed for his own sake, not to be thrown under Michael's sword.)

But there will be time for that later.

For now, Castiel teaches Lucifer how love can be passed between human vessels as their graces weave together to construct their own personal Heaven.

[hansoeii]

the honda odyssey, huh?

[whiteshipnightjar]

Zoozve, my beloved

[blabberoo]

"You have 72 hours."

Left alone in the consequences of his obsession, he let desperation get hold of his intellect and come up with a plan. For the world. For himself.

[aluminumneedles]

I'm knitting in the corner at a party

and guys my age stop by to tell me I remind them of their aunt, of their grandmother. This is a compliment and I take it as such. They confess to having tried crochet once, and I smile. They get back in line for the bathroom.

I'm knitting in the corner at a party and a queer woman sits on the floor next to me, arranges her skirt, and smiles up at me. (I try not to blush.) She asks me all the questions on her mind about my craft and I answer them, hands still moving. We swap yarn sources. She doesn't stay, but she knows where to find me.

I'm knitting in the corner at a party and everyone knows where to find me when they need a minute, when socializing is too much and the music is too loud and they need to catch their breath. They pretend to be checking in on me, which is sweet, but I can see the relief in their eyes the moment they stop performing for a house full of people. They sit down and tell me things and all the while they never take their eyes off my hands.

The party has wound down and I'm still knitting and the hosts, two guys in their twenties, thank me for "helping to curate the vibe." I had no idea that's what I was doing. I leave the party having forgotten to drink anything and without that woman's number but with many rows added to my top-down raglan sweater. I call it a night, and a good one.

[waywardstation]

Look for anything (or anyone) that could be familiar

For part two:

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🔼 for Ingo to find Emmet

🔽 for Emmet to find Ingo

[1930sdarlin]

(Meme made by Me, @1930sdarlin )

[emberglowfox]

Keeper -- a short comic about an angel meeting a robotic lighthouse keeper that doesn't know the world has already ended. Made in about 18 hours for a 24-hour 24-page* black and white comic challenge (that I arrived late to, ha.)

*the actual submission does not include the cover, which was created after the fact for this post.

This was a really great learning experience as someone who's... never really made a completed comic. I ended up really attached to the story by the end of the project (possibly due to all-nighter deliriousness lol) and ultimately am very proud of what I made.There are some things I'd still like to change, particularly text placement, but in keeping with the spirit of the challenge I've elected to leave it as is.

[shigeoreum]

“… It flows out of you… it flows out of me too… and I can’t tell where you end… and where I begin”

lyrics from “A Given Thing” by Weyes Blood and drawing is inspired by Gustav Klimt’s The Kiss ^_^

[kays-brains]

I made an animatic :b it’s for all those bbh enjoyers out there

[auden-dahn]

netpet, your new friend! 💾

[🍵 kofi]