#never saying eventually or and then

[oinonsana]

writing longform prose is so empowering,

what do you mean i have power over time?

what do you mean i can make it so that

every moment is now,

i don't have to keep saying "eventually" or "then"

like my ancestors unchained

from the calendar of greed,

the wheel of the machine god

[egophiliac]

since Eng is getting 7.5 soon(?), I felt motivated to go back to my Meleanor rig and make her a couple of lesson animations! ...except for alchemy, because the cauldron bubbles proved too hard to photoshop around, whoops.

maybe she just got lost on her way to the classroom...?

(credit: backgrounds are from the game, I just put her on top of 'em)

[aalghul]

Remember when Duke referred to himself as Robin while talking to Batman and then everyone spent the next 8 years saying it's illegal to expect him to be included as a Robin in anything, ever.

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[frownyalfred]

5+1 idea: all of the times the batkids came home from patrol to find Bruce absolutely exhausted/collapsed in front of the monitors in the Cave and had to try and get all 220 lbs of him into bed somehow.

dealer’s choice on why he’s knocked out (awake too long, injury, etc) but the key part in my mind is that he was trying so hard to push through it all (keeping their comm lines open, trying to finish a scan after 72 hours of no sleep, ignoring the bandage he just bled through to review Tim’s notes on a case, etc)

[corsairspade]

Halenthir but none of the Finweans believe Haleth is real because they all assume Caranthir made up a spouse so he could leverage his marriage status for tax concessions. Caranthir is extremely mad about this. Haleth thinks it’s hilarious.

[ricky-mortis]

So uh…. That pose, huh?

[jasonsbruce]

you did this to me.

[ruporas]

bound to want (part two) /// part one rest of pages under READ MORE after ID

[ID: 23 page digital comic of Vashwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic is in a limited palette of a dark blue, light pink, white, black, and a light beige color for Vash's skin and a mid-brown color for Wolfwood's. This comic is the second part to "Bound to Want" and is spoiler-free. The first part is linked here.

It begins with a panel close up of Vash's expressions. The sky colored in dark blue can be seen behind him. He has a neutral expression, but he holds a slight frown and the reflection of his glasses covers one side of his eyes. Wolfwood says, "Hey. What's with the distance?" In the second panel, the shot widens to show both of them, a clear physical distance separating them with Wolfwood walking ahead and Vash trailing a little behind. Vash responds, "What? I'm just walking a bit slower today..." Wolfwood looks at him with a an irritated expression, clicking his tongue. Wolfwood says, "I was going to wait for you to start... But yer just running away away."

Vash is seen looking away, unable to hold eye contact with Wolfwood as he continues, "You've been avoiding me since that night. Did ya think I wouldn't notice? It's about that dream, right? Tell me about it already if you're going to be moping like this." Vash looks slightly downwards, his brows furrowing and he starts to walk ahead of Wolfwood without looking at him and responds stiffly, "I really don't want to talk about it..." Wolfwood looks at him with a surprised expression, but doesn't probe.

A panel close up to Wolfwood's eyes as he watches Vash go on ahead before he follows suite with an irritated sigh. The panels are overlapped by Wolfwood's hand holding the bottle of the Bride with motion lines, indicating a transition in time.

A wide shot of Vash and Wolfwood in a room now. Vash is seated, his back turned away from the viewer, while Wolfwood's body faces the viewer with his eyes looking towards Vash. He rests the bottle of the Bride on the table with a "clack" and his other hand holds two shotglasses. The background is coated in a light pink.

A panel shows a close up of Wolfwood's face, his eyes looking downwards to Vash as he says, "Let's drink." Next to this panel is Vash looking up at Wolfwood, his brows furrowed and a slight frown. The bottom half of the page is a wider shot with Vash's body turned away from the viewer as he says, "I'm not going to talk about it." Wolfwood responds, "You don't have to." as he sits down.

A wide panel of Wolfwood holding the shotglass, pouring in the drink as he continues, "I'll talk." The next panel is a profile view of Wolfwood, his eyes looking down at the now filled shotglass as he continues to say, "You're..."

"... upset with me." Vash can be seen next to this speech bubble with narrowed eyes, looking towards Wolfwood. The panels are all coated in with a dark blue background. Wolfwood continues, "I can't be certain why since yer not telling me a thing -- but it's probably... my bad." The panels show Wolfwood about to bring the shotglass to his mouth but he turns way as he continued to speak, his eyes not on Vash. The bottom page shows him looking away completely with a guilty expression as he says, "I'm sorry.

If you can ever tell me why, I can try and adjust to make it more bearable. But if you're just trying to get rid of me--" The panels follow Wolfwood's certain expression as he says this, "I don't intend to leave you. I can't... and I won't." A panel shows Vash's wide-eyed expression, surprised upon hearing this, and then his eyes soften as Wolfwood again concludes with, "I'm sorry."

Vash's inner thoughts begins, a boxed speech at the center of the page and panels of his eyes, his brows furrowing again and a resigned, but frustrated expression. His thoughts starts, "Stop. I shouldn't be happy hearing that. And why are you apologizing? I should be the one to..! I can't let anything like that happen to you. You deserve to live a long steady and peaceful life. I want to be optimistic. I want to protect you, but I might end up doing the opposite." The text surrounds Wolfwood from Vash's perspective, the other man drinking out of his shotglass, his eyes downcasted.

"I shouldn't have you. And you won't leave." Behind these text is a panel of Wolfwood's eyes finally looking over to Vash. Vash's thoughts continues,  "It's so unfair." When Wolfwood sees Vash, his eyes soften and he frowns. The last panel shows the lower half of Vash's face, but tears begins to flow down his cheek. Wolfwood's hand is already reaching to wipe at them as he starts to say, "You know..."

A wider shot of Vash and Wolfwood, Vash slightly leaning forward with his mouth tightly shut, and tears steadily continuing to flow out of his closed eyes. Wolfwood continues to wipe at them with his hand as he continues, "This isn't a dream anymore. I don't know what you saw for you to be this shaken up, but whatever happened, you'll overcome it, right? If not you, I'm here too. You'll be okay, Spikey. So..." Wolfwood's expression grows more tender, "Have a little faith in me... and come back already." The dark blue starts to fade.

The wide panel has the dark blue background faded and replaced is the light pink. It shows Vash in full up to his shoulders, his eyes are still tears littered, but there's light in them as he says, "Wolfwood..." making eye contact with the other. The next panel shows Wolfwood's tender expression, his eyes and brows fully soften and he has a small smile on his lips, finally seeing the other return a level of sincerity with him.

The next panel shows the bottom half of Wolfwood's face and his hand is offered towards Vash for a dance as he says, "C'mon. We don't have to talk, but this is okay, right?" The background is now white and a ribbon flowing across the page separates this panel from the next sequence. Vash's inner thoughts continus, "I've spent too long avoiding this. It's scary to want after I've taken so much from others." A sequence close up of their hands is shown, with Wolfwood's outstretched hand on the right and Vash's reaching hand on the left. Vash gently places his hand in Wolfwood and at the bottom, Wolfwood wraps his fingers across Vash's.

Throughout the page, a dark blue ribbon starts to flow around the both of them with confetti raining alongside the effect. Vash and Wolfwood are hand and hand, dancing together with Wolfwood as the lead. The viewer can see a peak of Vash's expression, full of fondness but also a hint of sorrow as he looks down at Wolfwood. His inner thoughts continue, "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. But why is that even though I have these burdens, I still want to love you. I still want you to be by my side."

With a close up of their mouths, Vash's thoughts continue, the text covering his mouth, "Wolfwood, I--" Wolfwood's speech bubble covers Vash's text as he completes his sentence, "want you." Vash's eyes widen for one panel and in the next, his eyes spark, a blush appearing on his cheek and the confetti flows and spark. Tears ease up on his eyes again.

"Want me too already, Spikey." Wolfwood has leaned in enough to rest his head against Vash, a hand of his on Vash's neck, holding his nape and another hand pressed gently against his back. A ribbon separates this panel from the next, a mix of confetti flows across the page, as Vash envelopes Wolfwood in a hug too, holding him and his hand gripping tightly onto his back.

This page is just the ribbon flowly throughout the page on the white background, one white ribbon and the other a dark blue. Near the bottom, the ribbon envelopes each other in a loop. A conversation of Vash and Wolfwood is held over these ribbons, Vash starting to say, "What if I hurt you? What if you..?" Wolfwood responds, "You? How could you hurt me?" Vash, "You know what I mean... You see it everyday..." Wolfwood responds, "If you think I'm going to kick the bucket so easily, I suggest you look at me more closely from now on, idiot. I'm not that easy to get rid of."

The next page has the ribbon criss cross over the top of the page. Vash and Wolfwood can be seen in their dancing position again, Wolfwood now resting a hand on Vash's shoulder, as Vash takes the lead. Vash continues, "Well, I know that... I tried." Wolfwood responds, "But you won't anymore... since you want me... around, yeah?" Wolfwood's head cocks to the side, smiling with assurance, cheeks flushed. Vash looks at him with a wide smile and fond, loving eyes. The confetti flows across the bottom of this page and as it eases into the next page, it starts to disappear.

Vash responds, ".. Yeah... I do..." as he pulls Wolfwood into a hug again. Wolfwood says, "Not going to run away anymore, are you?" Vash says, "No... I trust you." A panel shows Wolfwood's turning away slightly with a shy expression, muttering "Geez..."

In a more simplified style, Wolfwood is seen gripping Vash's cheeks now with his hand, "Though... You do remember you avoided me for two weeks straight, right? How are you going to make that up to me?" Wolfwood asks. Vash responds with eyes closed and a pucker of his lips. A vein of irritation appears on Wolfwood's face. Wolfwood starts to squeeze at Vash's cheek with both hands, shouting, "Now that you've recovered, you're trying to be funny, huh?!" Vash says through the squished cheeks, "I'm just happy..."

The next page opens with a closed up panel of Vash's widen eye as Wolfwood's hand moves from squishing his cheeks to gently holding them and Wolfwood leans in. The inner thoughts starts again, "There's a chance I'm not making the right choice... My dreams, my fears of losing you, it will never go away. But you said you won't let it happen... And I want to hang onto your words closely this time. After all, if it's anyone who can make me believe, it's you."  The white ribbon from previous pages flows across the page and it visibly ends at the bottom of the page, enclosing the two of them as they share a gentle kiss with Vash holding Wolfwood's face, a tear in his eye.

The next pages starts with Wolfwood saying, "You cryin' again?" Vash responds, "I'm just grateful..." Wolfwood responds, "But you've always had me." Vash responds, "Being like this is different from staring at you from behind all the time though..." The two can be seen together again, Wolfwood pressing his elbows against the table with Vash leaning over him. Wolfwood is easing the tears out of Vash's eye again, just like earlier. A close panel of Vash's fond expression is seen as he says, "Thank you, Wolfwood." Wolfwood looks up at him with a small smile, gentle eyes. Confetti starts to flow lightly across the page as text starts to appear against the white background, "I'm the one who's grateful...

That you'd embrace someone like me, when I'm not fit to hold you in the first place... But I know better than to hesitate. The moment I acknowledged it, I knew I'd spend the rest of my life loving you. So, have as much of me as you want, Vash."

The final page shows the confetti gently falling down the page and at the bottom shows Vash and Wolfwood pressing their foreheads together, Wolfwood's hands cupping the side of Vash's face gently, and both of them smiling brightly with each other. ID END]

[cyberpunk-deadboy]

change is destruction, you know?

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Dean Winchester of Supernatural fame is NOT reading parenting books he is putting on Cheaper By The Dozen, Daddy Daycare and Honey I Shrunk The Kids taking notes.

[fishyartist]

Ui idea tests, thrown together bc im eepy. Was planning on doing more but I spent all my days energy on the second one oops

[seonghwaddict]

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 008 ] as you wish, princess.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of… interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. suggestive content, undressing, alcohol consumption, swearing, use of pet names, drunk y/n is very.... affectionate :). word count. 4.3k

　　　　　　　　chapter vii // chapter viii // chapter ix

As you followed Hongjoong’s instructions, you slowly began realising how drunk you were as you sloppily climbed up the steps. After what felt like an eternity, you made it to the final step, sighing with relief as you caught your breath and looked around.

Just a few steps in the front of the stairs, a girl crouched on the ground with two of her friends comforting her as she sobbed and swore herself off men. A little farther than that, a couple was making out very loudly against a wall. You grimaced and turned to look down the other way of the hall, finding one of the bedroom doors open and deciding to check in there.

As you approached the door, a different couple ran out of the room, a slightly drunk and stern-faced Yeosang stepping out behind them as they fled down the stairs. His eyes landed on you and it took him a second to realise why you looked so familiar—squinting and leaning forward comically as you approached him—but when he did, his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas.

“Y/N!” He called out to you happily, stepping towards you as his voice was slightly louder than it needed to be.

You matched his giddy smile, “Yeosang!”

His eyes moved down from your face, taking in your appearance as you assessed his. You completely missed how he blushed and looked you up and down, suddenly a bit breathless.

His blond hair had grown long enough to be swept into a half-up-half-down hairstyle that tied together his outfit made up of a green sweater and blue trousers, fitted on his hips with a black belt. 

Yeosang’s breath caught in his throat as his gaze travelled down to see your exposed thighs, the hem of your skirt gently brushing against the soft skin he’s always wanted to touch. He shook away any inappropriate thoughts he had and stepped closer to you, enveloping you in a warm hug. 

“How much did you drink?” He laughed softly as the two of you separate, leaving you stumbling slightly.

You shrugged, a goofy grin on your face. “Not sure, I lost count.”

“Let’s get you some water?”

“‘m fineee!” you slurred once again but wrapped yourself around his arm and leaned against him for support, your feet tired. You flinched when another song came on downstairs, much louder than the rest as the beat boomed throughout the house and left your skull pulsing. 

Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows and frowned full of concern, “You okay, petal?”

He wasn’t sure where that pet name came from, but feeling a little brave with the small amount of alcohol in his system, he didn’t care much. It was you that had to hide your blush as you shook your head at the question.

“This song… gives me a headache.” You told him, clamping your eyes shut as you buried your face in his shoulder.

A tut left his lips as he looked around, pulling you into the bedroom he chased the couple out of earlier and closed the door behind you. It was decorated very plainly—a large bed, a desk with a chair, a closet and no personal objects in sight. It made sense though, considering they rented this house just for tonight.

You sat on the bed and watched as he closed the door carefully, shrugging off the white shirt since it was getting a bit warmer in the room, exposing your bare arms and shoulders. When he turned around and saw your full outfit without the annoying white shirt, leaning back on your hands as you looked up at him, his breath caught in his throat for a second time, eyes glazing over as he tried to collect himself. You looked so inviting and he had to fight himself internally to not devour you right then and there.

He sat next to you and hitched a knee up on the bed to look at you better, tentatively moving a little closer and watching to see if you’d protest but when you didn’t he relaxed a bit.  “We can stay in here until you feel better.”

You opened your mouth to say something but a noise beyond the window above the head of the bed distracted you. A familiar, obnoxious cackle rang through the glass and had you perking up slightly, kicking off your shoes to climb further up on the bed (Yeosang tried his best not to look at the way your skirt rode up your hips, ever so slightly exposing a sliver of the plump flesh of your upper thighs). Once you got the window open, you leaned forward, kneeling on the bed and poking your head out the window.

Your confused face was quickly overrun by a bright smile as you watched the commotion down in the garden. There weren’t many people outside so it was easy to spot Wooyoung, San, Yunho, Jongho and Seonghwa. San and Jongho sat on the ground, separated by what looked like a crate, using it as a platform for them to arm wrestle on. Yunho stood behind Jongho and Wooyoung behind San, each of them cheering on their fighters while Seonghwa acted as a referee.

You called out to them, waving one of your hands around mildly aggressively as you used the other to prevent yourself from falling down. All of them looked up, smiles stretching onto their faces as well.

“Y/N!!!” Wooyoung was the first to call out to you. “Come join us!!”

You giggled, nodding your head and leaning back on your knees and into the room. Yeosang had settled down on the bed next to you, laying on his side as he watched you communicate with the guys outside, face full of adoration.

“They want us to go down and join them,” you told him once you made yourself comfortable kneeling next to him.

He didn’t answer you right away, nor did he make any moves to get up. “You look so beautiful right now…” He breathed.

You blushed, looking away and hitting his shoulder playfully.

“I’m serious, you look beautiful… now and always.”

“Yeosang, you’re drunk…”

He gently caressed your arm, leaving trails of goosebumps in his wake. “I don’t have to be sober to tell you the truth. I think you’re beautiful, petal. The prettiest flower I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeo…” you whispered, “I could say the same for you.”

It was his turn to blush, the apples of his cheeks swelling as he gave you a small smile, his hand slipping further down your arm to intertwine your fingers. “You think I’m pretty?”

A chuckle left your lips as you nodded.

A beat of silence passed between the two of you and he sat up, leaning against the headboard of the bed with his legs stretched in front of him, looking into your eyes as you watched his perceptive ones. His hand never let go of yours as he angled his body to face you, his thumb tracing light circles on your skin as his gaze flicked down to peek at the way your hand fit in his. Your gaze roamed all over his face, lips parted slightly as you took in the soft angles of his features. Yeosang revelled in the way you looked at him then, basking in the warmth of your gaze.

“I want… can I…” He hesitated, but you nodded at him, silently beckoning him to continue as you waited patiently. He glanced down at your lips. ��May I…?”

He didn’t need to elaborate, his question clear enough for you to understand just by watching him. Your breath hitched as the hand that was holding yours grazed just above your knee. A tiny nod was all you needed to give him before he was leaning forward.

His hand let go of yours, featherlight touches trailing up your side until it rested on your jaw softly. You copied his movements, bracing your hand on his thigh as you leaned forward to brush your lips against his. His breath shuddered against your lips as he leaned forward, deepening the peck slightly before pulling back. And then you watched each other for a second. He adored the way your cheeks were slightly dusted with pink, flustered.

A moment later, you both dove in again. This time, there was more heat behind the kiss as your mouths worked against each other, setting an almost bruising pace. His hand moved up your thigh to rest on your hip, pulling you forward to straddle him on his lap before the hand moved down again, gently massaging your cushiony thighs. You sighed softly against his lips, your hands trailing up his body, one resting on his shoulder as the other played with the soft hair on the nape of his neck.

When you felt his tongue swiping along your bottom lip, you didn’t protest as you parted your lips, letting him explore your mouth as your noses nudged each other. Tongues bumping against each other, he faintly tasted of mint and whiskey.

Eventually, he disconnected his lips from you, loving the slight swell of your lips and the way a tiny string of saliva connected his and your lips as you parted, only snapping once you leaned too far back as you heaved breaths. His hand continues caressing your thigh, occasionally slipping under the hem of your skirt before slipping out just as quickly, and your hand continued brushing his beautiful blonde strands as you both caught your breaths.

“That was nice.” You finally spoke up, shoulders drawing up a little as you giggled.

Your words combined with your actions brought a smile to his face, the hand on your jaw slipping down to rest on your waist. “I agree…”

“My lipgloss got all over your lips.”

“Why don’t you clean it for me then?”

You blinked at him, not used to this kind of boldness coming from him. Your hand on his shoulder hesitantly moved, hovering over his surprisingly soft lips for a moment before you used to thumb to rub off the gloss. Before you could pull your thumb away once you finished, he pressed a light kiss to your digit.

Another beat of silence passed between the two of you, though it wasn’t awkward. 

“They’re waiting for us downstairs.” You reminded him, leaning forward to press a short kiss to his lips before leaning back on his lap.

“They can wait a little longer…” He leaned forward to capture your lips in his one last time but was cut off by a shout from outside the window.

“Y/N PLEASE COME DOWNSTAIRS I MISS YOU IT’S BEEN YEARS.” “Wooyoung, it’s been a few hours-” “I don’t give a fuck, I miss her.”

Another laugh escaped you as you smiled against Yeosang’s lips. “Let’s go?”

He groaned and give your waist a squeeze, lifting you off him gently before getting off the bed and offering you a hand. “I’m gonna kill Wooyoung one day.”

“Please wait a few weeks, we still have to finish our project.” You brought your hand up to pat his cheek after getting up, turning to leave the room but suddenly feeling too dizzy to walk. Your ministrations with Yeosang had made you forget you were exceptionally drunk.

He laughed as he watched you collapse back into the bed, shaking his head slightly as he leaned his head out the window. “Can someone more sober than me please come get her?”

And before you could register it, Jongho was carrying you down the stairs and across the very busy living room to get to the garden where the other guys were waiting, one hand under your back and the other under your knees. As he walked outside, you missed the reactions of them as they finally laid eyes on what you were dressed in, your face affectionately nuzzled into Jongho’s bicep.

Seonghwa’s jaw just about dropped as he heard a sharp intake of breath from his right, where San was pouring himself a glass of soda next to the barbecue. Yunho nearly dropped his glass while Wooyoung showed no shame in the way his gaze travelled over your body like a predator, suddenly regretting the fact he was so drunk and would probably forget this delicious image the next morning. Jongho set you down on one of the two couches they dragged outside, still blushing over how you pressed a kiss to his cheek as a thank you when he scooped you up into his arms earlier.

“What took you so long?” Wooyoung pouted, throwing himself on the couch to sit next to you, pulling you into his chest with his hands around your waist.

“She was too drunk to stand up and I tried lifting her a few times, but turns out I’m too drunk to do that without running both of us into a wall.” You looked at Yeosang over Wooyoung’s shoulder as he spoke, nodding him a thank you.

As you leaned away from the embrace, you looked around and observed the guys. San was in a tanktop that did nothing to hide his muscled and blue jeans, Yunho in a ripped camo sweater and grey ripped jeans while Wooyoung dressed himself in wide-cut black trousers with a black t-shirt tucked in and a large denim flannel on top. Jongho was dressed in a fluffy lilac sweater with denim pants. But the biggest change in appearance came from Seonghwa.

What was light pink hair was now dyed black and neatly swept back from his forehead with gel. His outfit was a lot edgier than you were used to when it came to him—a short-sleeved white dress shirt, a loosely done tie, black leather pants and, to top everything off, a strappy black harness pulling his shirt to his chest and accentuating his perfect waist. You willed your eyes to stop trailing over his figure so desperately, but you were only human after all.

Two hours later you were still outside, comfortably sandwiched between San and Mingi as you all laughed at a story Yunho was telling. At some point Seonghwa had thrown a blanket over your legs, your heart warming as he explained it was so you wouldn’t be worried about anything showing. Occasionally you’d stand up or go inside with one or two of the boys, feeling the need to dance every time a good song came on—which was quite often because Hongjoong had impeccable taste.

At this time it was nearing three in the morning. Most people had already left and the people still at the party were already passed out in various areas of the house. Your friends had come over to let you they’ll be leaving in case you wanted to join them but you assured them you’d be fine staying and San—the 100% sober one, was unable to handle alcohol very well so he opted to not drink that night—promised to take you home. Minseong handed you your phone before he, his boyfriend and Sangmi left (Daniel had gone home with some girl already). Hongjoong turned the music down on the speakers and left a softer playlist running as he and Mingi joined the rest of you in the garden.

Snuggled in between the large bodies of San and Mingi, you yawned, hugging your knees tighter to your chest. A quiet rumble of laughter came from Mingi on your right as he gently rubbed your left shoulder, his arm slung over you as San’s was looped around your waist and toyed with the waist chain.

“Are you tired?” San leaned his head down, speaking into your ear lowly and sending shivers down your spine. Not trusting yourself to speak just yet, you just nodded with a pout, to which he chuckled. “Do you want me to take you home now?” You nodded again, this time looking up at him with wide, tired eyes. He let out another short chuckle as he turned to address the rest of the group. “Our little lady is tired, I’m gonna take her home now. I’ll be back in a bit.”

They all nodded and wished you a good night, Mingi absentmindedly leaning down to press a quick kiss to your hair before San picked you up from the couch. He carried you the same way Jongho did, one hand under your knees and the other under your back. He wrapped you in the blanket a bit more securely before lifting you up, knowing you’d die of embarrassment if you accidentally flashed any of them.

“Don’t rush, I can drive the rest of us home, too. Just get her home safely.” Seonghwa called after the two of you as San went around the house to get into the car.

Soon enough you were seated in the passenger seat of San’s car. You mumbled out the address of your apartment building and he soon began driving as you dozed off. Once you arrived a few minutes later, he gently patted your knee, coaxing you to wake up.

“Wake up,” he muttered, careful not to startle you. San smiled when he noticed you were beginning to stir awake. “We’ve arrived.”

You stretched slightly in his seat as he got out and rounded the car, opening your door and extending his hands to help you get up. You obeyed him quietly, the blanket falling to the ground of the car as you step out. A rosy tint dusted the tips of his ear as you leaned up and embraced him over his shoulders, clinging onto him tightly as you stood on your toes. After recovering, he reciprocated the hug by wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Your awfully clingy when you’re drunk.” He joked, leaning back to look down at your tired face. “Come on, let’s get you to bed, yeah? Do you want to be carried again?” You waited a moment before nodding, a small smile on your lips when he laughs again. “Well, as you wish, princess.”

He winked playfully before turning around and leaning down a bit more, gesturing for you to get on his back. Once you did, he placed his hands under each of your thighs to secure you better. He listened to your instructions carefully as you leaned your head on his shoulder and murmured into his ears. Since it was so late (or early might would be a better fit), the lobby staff was nowhere to be seen as he entered one of the main elevators.

When you got out on the fifth floor, you directed him to the apartment you shared with Sangmi. Since you didn’t bring your keys, you pulled out your phone from where you tucked it into the waistband of your skirt, quickly pulling up your chat with her to ask her to open the door. But your face drained of colour when you saw the messages she sent you half an hour before.

minnie <3 – 2:37 am I’m going home with a guy from the party I think the spare key is where it always is

You groaned and dropped your head on San’s shoulder, making his head turn to look at you as best as he could. “What’s wrong?”

“My roommate isn’t home,” you sighed, not wanting to get off his firm but comfortable back quite yet, “Can you let me down for a moment, Sannie?”

He set you back on your feet and watched as you crouched in front of the door, flipping over the corner white doormat to reveal a key taped to the bottom. It didn’t take long for you to unlock the door and let the two of you in, taking off your shoes and making a beeline for the bedroom as San looked around the entrance area and living room before following behind you.

He wasn’t sure what he expected your room to look like, but if someone asked him he could confidently tell them that your room feels like you. It was a wonderful display of organised chaos. Not messy at all, but rather full of personality. Posters hung on the wall and a variety of sketchbooks and pencils littered your desk. The large window behind your bed was covered by sheer curtains and then a layer of more solid ones, drawn close to give you some privacy. A slim bookshelf full of books and other trinkets was placed in the corner opposite your closet, two different guitars and their stands leaning against the furniture piece—one white electric guitar and one acoustic.

He inspected the room, his gaze finally falling on you as you switched the much too bright lighting from the overhead lamp to the lamp on the bedside table, giving the room a softer, warmer glow. You sat on the bed, turning to look at him.

You weren’t exactly sure what made you say it, and you definitely knew it was a bad idea. Hell, you’ve only known San for, what? Three or four months? Sure, you’ve formed closer relationships in a shorter time and you were already very comfortable with him, but as soon as your words left your mouth you were fully aware of the consequences if he didn’t reciprocate the same kind of comfort.

“Can you… can you help me change?” You asked quietly, hoping the dim lighting would hide at least some of your flushed face.

When he didn’t answer immediately, you were sure he was ready to walk out and never talk to you again. But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped closer to you and crouched in front of you to face you eye-to-eye.

“Are you sure? Would you be comfortable with that?” You nodded and he held up a hand for you to stop. “I need your words. I need you to say you’d be comfortable with me doing this for you.”

You weren’t sure why he needed such concrete permission for just changing you, but you nodded again. “Yes, I’m comfortable. I think I’m too tired to do it myself.”

He cracked a smile and nodded, standing up and turning around to take some steps to your closet. He opened the drawers you told him to—the first and the third—and pulled out an oversized white t-shirt and wide sweatpants and walked back to you. He set the clothes next to you on the bed and kneeled on the ground.

First, he took one of your legs and placed it on his knee, carefully taking off the thigh-high sock and then setting it down and doing the same with your other sock. Next, he grabbed the sweatpants and pulled them up your leg and under the skirt so he could slip the skirt over the sweatpants without exposing your most intimate parts. He did the same with the shirt, pulling it over your corset after unclasping the waist chain. With the large shirt covering the corset, he reached his hands under the fabric and wound them around your waist until he found the zipper.

With his eyes on you, he began pulling down the zipper, at first a small tug to see if you’d change your mind and push him away, but when he saw no insecurity in your soft gaze he dragged it all the way down. His gentle hands grazed your bare sides as he removed the clothing item, causing your breath to hitch. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything as he got up to neatly put all the clothing he removed on top of the dresser.

Minutes later, he helped you remove your makeup and was now guiding you into your bed, pulling the covers over you. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were nodding off into your dreams, barely registering San tenderly caressing your hair before moving to the door to let you sleep for the night.

“Thank you, Sannie.” You told him as you grabbed a hold of his hand.

He looked down at you and smiled, leaning down and pulling your hand to his lips, your skin tingling in the spot where he kissed it. “Anytime, princess. Good night.”

“Good night…” You covered half of your face with your blanket, your words slightly muffled. “I had fun today.”

“Really?” He smiled wider, a dimple surfacing on his cheek.

You nodded.

“Good, that’s all we cared about really. We just wanted you to have a good time.”

“I… Thank you, that’s very sweet of you. Of all of you…”

A look passed over his face and you had the feeling he was thinking about something, contemplating something. The mystery was soon solved as he leaned down again, this time placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before straightening himself out, switching off your lamp and leaving your room with a final “Good night.”

A smile lingered on your face even and you fell asleep as soon as the door of your room clicked shut. The next morning you stirred awake, moving to lay on your back to sit up with a groan. As you rubbed your eyes and your vision cleared, you looked around, distantly remembering a figure in a tanktop crouching on the ground.

Finally, your eyes zeroed in on your nightstand, a white pill and a small water bottle with a sticky note stuck to it were placed on top. You shuffled forward on your bed, gently peeling the note off the plastic and reading it, placing it in between the pages of your favourite sketchbook that you keep in the drawer of the same nightstand.

Take these when you wake up and make sure to eat well. - San

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] i hope you all enjoyed this chapter because i certainly enjoyed writing it~ i'd like to take a second to thank everyone who's been checking on me, whether it's by comments, dms or asks. thank you all so much for your support, let's all look forward to the future of never say never together!

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　　NEVER SAY NEVER　©　seonghwaddict, 2023

[non-newtonian-id]

this is complete insanity on my part because i thought about PIDW!Shang Qinghua a little too much but

he and PIDW!Mu Qingfang were in love. to me.

they never actual got together before og!sqh died but there was mutual pining happening

trust, i spoke to airplane himself (<- guy being delusional about two double fictional characters (characters that are fictional within a factional setting))

[holdmymetaphor]

okay when i started rewatching house, it took me until 3x15 but i started to notice a pattern in house's wardrobe. the scene where foreman was trying to express sadness(?) at house's (fake) brain cancer they were both wearing pink.

After that I noticed that any time house was wearing pink, they were particularly vulnerable moments. Moments that he's feeling tender or open. Moments where he is being pretty earnest.

Then I started to notice that other colored shirts came up at different times. Light blue was his most neutral state, it represents logic and reason imo. Maybe a little bit of humor. There's a lightness or surface-ness to it.

Purple represents something like consequences or grief or guilt. any time there is purple someone is bearing the weight of a decision that was made, or a complex situation.

Black represents, as you can imagine, death. the darkest moments we see house in black.

The other colors aren't as prominent, but I have theories. Red is sex, power, life, excitement, ego. tan is neutrality. white is almost naive. green is rare and house never wears it. Dark blue is still logic but more solemn, more deep. its also interesting to note the times when he doesn't wear a t-shirt under his dress shirt and leaves like 3 buttons open (hubba hubba) and when he /only/ wears a t-shirt. I think his dress shirt is almost like his armor.

[seven-winged-liar]

Like a mosquito in amber...

Rambling under the cut ⬇️

okay this might all go in a separate reblog but

Inspired by that one post talking about needing more art covering John's mouth

Also combined it with an old concept i've had in the microwave for quite some time based on F+TM's Rabbit Heart, it did however get much darker as i kept working on it so :/ no sunlight here

John HCs

John's eyes work like Crowleys in the respect that whether or not there is a defined iris is based on how much distress he is in, how much he feels human in that moment, etc

John starts out with a whole mask, slowly loses it over the course of the show, Yellow's mask is all of the pieces that have fallen off of John's

Once John gets his own body, he has sensory issues, esp visual overstimulation

Have a B&W cause I think it looks cool