#a gathering in the attic

[suitmana]

whatever did happen to the red shoes anyway? especially when elise changes into her pants getup it's like did she just toss them away or something? or did ozzy just magically get them back somehow idk

[professorlegaspi]

The dedications in each book

[sheepscot]

my dad said he made something similar to this when he was a kid. being a teen in the early 60's he liked to tinker with stuff and reportedly made a device that would turn off the family TV. and by family tv i mean it was my grandfathers tv because he paid for it. so if grampy wanted to watch tv it didn't matter if someone else was watching something at the time, they had to give it up for grampy. Dad said he'd camp out at the top of the stairs just in view of the tv and press the button to shut off the tv and grampy would get up from the couch and walk over to the tv and turn it back on and go back to sit. then intermittently my dad would turn off the tv several more times and grampy would have to get up and turn the tv back on again until grampy would get frustrated with technology and leave. then the tv was available for my dad to watch

this is so funny

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea:Vanishing Bookstore

Danny opens a bookstore. Initially, it was his private library, a place tp store all the books he gather from different parts of the glob and different Earths.

Mr. Lancer finally wore him down, causing Danny's love of reading to blossom at the end of his Freshman year. The teacher did so by having him come in person to speak about any kind of book as makeup work, as long as he learned how to dissect what he read and get proper reading comprehension.

Danny found that he could enjoy literature if he wasn't forced to write an essay afterward. But spending lunchtimes with his English teacher arguing about Narina's moral concepts was practically the same as the essay; it was just funnier.

It was the final push he needed to move to the next grade. By the skin of his teeth, but he did it. Mr. Lancer had been so proud of him.

That summer, Danny had been grounded for various weeks due to the ghosts attacks taking him away from his school and chores. Since he wasn't allowed to watch TV, or use the computer Danny had chosen to pick up books from Jazz's young adult fantasy shelves.

He never looked back.

Suddenly, it was like Danny could only go somewhere with something to read. He jumped genres but always fell back to fantasy, escaping into magical worlds between pages. Something about that reminded him of exploring the different worlds within the Infinate Realms, and Danny found himself addicted.

It became his entire identity. Sam was the goth girl, Tucker the tech geek, and Danny the book nerd. His friends and family quickly learned that any gift-giving event was going to lead to a long list of books Danny was waiting to get his grabby little hands on.

Even the classics Mr. Lancer once had to fight him to read were entertaining now that he understood their subtext and inferences that used to go over his head as a kid.

Jazz took him to get his library card which became Danny's most prized possession until high school graduation. Once Danny got his first part-time job- working for Sam's family company but hey if he had a rich friend who was willing to pay him to answer calls who was he to say no?- Danny started buying his own books.

He shopped at local second-hand bookstores, online websites, and chain bookstores and even ventured into the Ghost Zone to see what literature wonders they had to offer. He found that his human money had a far better exchange rate then he was expecting, making it possible to buy a lot more and at cheaper prices in the Zone.

He even found parallel words that sold the same books he was reading. Once, he saw a book he had waited two years to release at a marked-down price because that world had the book out for five years. Danny almost died of joy to find the special edition.

His room, which once had nothing by NASA, was now filled with bookshelve after bookshelve of his treasures. His parents allowed him to expand his little library in the attic once he ran out of room.

Danny had no idea what to do when his parents asked him what he planned to do once he ran out of room there. By that point, he had started to move the older ones into his Haunt in the Ghost zone, amazed that it had shifted into a Libary that rivaled the likes of Libary of Alexandria. He had so many different ones that he could organize by all ten categories of the Dewey Decimal System in his Haunt, making him wonder if he had consumed that much writing in the past four years. (He had. His parents were worried)

Ghosts had even started asking if they could visit his library, and before long, he had opened one of Ghost Zona's first Public libraries. His only charge was that if a new ghost wanted a library card, they had to donate at least three books. His collection grew and grew with each passing day.

Blob ghosts appointed themselves as Danny's librarians, carefully filing his newest additions to his growing delight. Danny now always had something new to read.

He consumed so much that a new title was bestowed onto him. Danny Phantom: Master of Knowledge.

Though that was a rather silly title if you asked Danny, he enjoyed a good read whenever he was awake. Just because he learned while reading didn't mean he was the master of it. However, he did gain a massive patchwork of knowledge that he could usually apply anywhere, making people assume he was all-knowing.

That did not solve the problem of getting too many books, and often, he found copies of the same ones added to his shelves again and again. His blob ghosts didn't think to reject copies because then ghosts couldn't visit his haunt and would be denied books.

Danny would never deny anyone books. He just had to figure out what to do with the copies and old books he was no longer interested in.

Jazz told him to try and have a yard sale of the ones he no longer wanted, and seeing as there were some series he could go without, Danny gave it a shot.

He made a surprising amount of money, but it was far from the amount he had spent to purchase them. Still, watching people get excited as they walk away with bags of books more than made up for it. After his third yard sale, Danny made up his mind.

He would attach a bookstore to his Haunt.

He wasn't sure how since his library had built itself. It seemed unwilling to add on to it that it was a slightly different business. His haunt only expanded to accommodate the library that he was building there. It took reading five rare books that Clockwork had gifted him to find what was once lost knowledge.

Haunt Manipulation.

It was risky, but Danny created the Infinite Realms Bookstore with enough concentration, some runes, a dash of overly powerful ectoplasm, and some of his core bits. He chose to run this one because the blobs seemed frightened of hackling with customers, and frankly, seeing people be happy was a different kind of rush.

Things were fine for a few years. He didn't need to work now that he had a steady cash flow—though sometimes he had to find someone willing to trade for US Earth 23-19 dollars. He was his own boss with his books to read, his body not needing sleep or food while in the zone, and his ability to lose himself in between pages whenever he wanted.

Then, his bookstore fell off his haunt. It was like an apple falling from a tree- it grew too heavy for the Haunt to handle- flinging Danny into a nearby Earth portal. Luckily, he could get back to the Zone with the spell he placed on his backdoor, and his haunt was in the same place as it always was.

It turns out that Haunt Manipulation is no longer an extended practice because it cannot anchor anywhere. It vanishes and reappears randomly, lingering for a few months. Danny finds that the last haunt like this is now named the House of Mysteries.

At first, Danny was really annoyed by this, until he realized that he could once again walk among humans and spread his library to different worlds. He especially loved it when he appeared in areas where he could teach people to read.

Something about introducing people to his obsession was almost as fulfilling as his obsession itself.

He became a strange but wise man in some worlds and a god of knowledge in others. Danny was having the time of his life, flinging between timelines, exploring dimensions, and still being able to port back to his regular Haunt that connected him to his home.

He saw his parents every Thanksgiving and Christmas. He was able to be the Best man at Jazz's wedding, saw Tucker become the head of his own tech company, and was one of the first to meet Sam's girlfriend between his exploring.

Infinite Realms Bookstore's newest location was on an intriguing Earth behind Danny's home world regarding technology. It was a crime-infested city with far too many problems for its own good. His bookstore also chooses to plant itself right smack in the middle of the worst part of town.

On the far back wall, in the elegant letter, it read "Five years," meaning Danny and the bookstore would be here for five years before it vanished. Strangely, it was the longest time that it had lingered in one place.

Danny suspected that Infinite Realms Bookstore was starting to develop a mind of its own. His books were organizing themselves overnight now, and he was sure he never saw any blob ghosts about.

That did not stop him from happily opening his doors to Crime Alley anyway. The morning of his first day in Gotham, while sipping some coffee- he forgot how good it tasted!- a young boy wandered in.

He was obviously looking for an escape, so Danny willed some chairs and tables to appear in the far back. A complimentary snack section appeared a few seconds later, and there was a "Feel free to read anything off the shelves" sign.

The kid's eyes widened when he spotted them before he hastily raced toward the classics and selected two large volumes. He planted himself at one of the tables surrounded by drinks and cookies and didn't move for hours.

Danny left him to it, choosing to close when the kid left. It was tweleve long hours but worth it to see the glee on the tiny litte face as he flipped through pages.

The next day, he came back, and the one after that. Before long, Danny had his first regular.

That regular is a young boy named Jason Todd.

Jason reminded Danny of himself when he first got into reading, which led to him making a deal with the young boy. He would let Jason bring books to trade, allowing the boy to take home whatever he wanted in exchange. This meant Danny could get books from this new dimension and Jason didn't have to worry about finaces.

There was a time where Danny was pretty sure Jason was just reselling him back his own books. But seeing as Jason looked more and more like he was having a hard time finding a good meal, Danny pretended not to notice.

This is similar to when his bookstore developed free showers for him to use only when he was about or private reading rooms with a warm bed. Jason early took advantage of these, unaware that they vanished from view to all other customers once he stepped inside.

Sometimes, he falls asleep and spends the night inside those private reading rooms when Danny "forgets" to walk through the store before closing.

Everyone else paid because they didn't make Danny's core sing like Jason. It was easy to tell when the boy became Robin, as he found the vigilante pulling Batman to his window and pointing out books. The moment that mask little face pressed against his glass, Danny knew who it was.

Just as he knew the next day when, Bruce Wayne opened his door to buy everything that Robin had wanted. Danny kept that to himself, though. He figured it would be funnier if they thought they were sneaky.

Maybe this place would be his finest location yet.

[interstellarflare]

A Cinderella Story || Anthony Bridgerton

-PART ONE-

Summary: Have courage, and be kind. Words that you tried to live by ever since the passing of your parents. Though your step-mother and step-sisters did everything in their power to hide you and your status away from the rest of the Ton, you never expected to catch the eye of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton himself.

Authors Note: This is my first Bridgerton series! I had an absolute ball writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! There is a tag list open if anyone wishes to be kept updated for future parts. Gif by @greengableslover

‘The Prince smiled, extending his hand towards her with grace and ease.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked lowly, his eyes meeting hers with a kind yet mischievous twinkle. There was something about the Prince that made her heart flutter, that made her place her hand into his and reply-‘

The sound of hurriedly approaching footsteps and a chorus of shouting caused you to stuff the book beneath your pillows, a small panic settling over you as you quickly jumped out of your rickety bed and threw the old sheets over the mattress to at least make it look as if you hadn’t been lying in it mere seconds ago.

The door to the attic swung open, violently ricochetting off the wall and with a loud ‘bang’. You flinched, a shaky breath escaping you as you turned your gaze towards the form of your stepmother, her piercing greyish-blue eyes staring intently at you as she entered. She held her head high, the permanent scowl on her features examining every little aspect of the small space with precision. Her eyes landed on the small wooden table beside your bed, narrowing on the melted candle with the wax spilling over the sides.

“You were reading again, weren’t you?” She growled, her lips pursing in annoyance. Fiddling with your hands in front of you, you shrugged your shoulders slightly. “It wasn’t all night, Lady Worthington, I swear-“

“Nonsense, I can see the candle clear as day girl!” She shouted, a look of disapproval forming on her features. You held her stare, a small sense of guilt settling in your stomach the longer your stepmother remained in the attic. With a long and annoyed huff, she brushed he black-greying hair from her shoulder, looking you up and down with a look of disgust. “Get yourself cleaned up, and once you’re done start with breakfast. My girls are hungry, we have a long day ahead of us” she ordered, gathering her deep purple skirts and storming out of the room.

Releasing a breath you weren’t aware you were holding, your shoulders slumped in relief. You looked down at yourself and sighed, Lady Worthington was right. The clothes you wore currently were nothing but rags, and your day clothes weren’t much better. They were either oversized or too small, but you made do with the worn black and white maids dresses you were given. After getting changed and tying your hair back with a small piece of ribbon, you quickly skipped downstairs and into the kitchen.

You could hear Lady Worthington and her daughters cackling manically in the dining room, discussing their plans for the day, and how excited they were to be invited to Lady Danbury’s ball. Lady Danbury’s ball was one of the highlights of the season, or…so you had heard anyway. It had been a long time since you had seen the dear woman, you believed the last time you held conversation with her was when you were but a child. Your father, just after the loss of your mother, had taken you to one of Lady Danbury’s balls after deciding that leaving you at home would have been unwise at this grief-stricken time.

You remembered the beautiful dresses, the beautiful debutants who smiled and waved at your curious gaze. The kind bachelors who greeted you with a dance. And a young boy, hiding behind his father’s legs, his eyes following you wherever you went. Lady Danbury had been most gracious, you remember. A close friend of your mothers, almost like an aunt to you. But when Lady Worthington came into the picture and had taken control of your father’s inheritance after his passing, you were practically forgotten and hidden away from the ton. A part of you missed it, though you weren’t envious of today’s debutants desperately seeking husbands. Lady Worthington was perhaps one of the most persistent mothers out there, aside from Lady Featherington you hear.

This would be the third season that your stepsisters, Elizabeth and Mary Worthington, would participate in. They very much enjoyed flaunting themselves before the ton, given the state of their rooms with delicate and luxurious dresses and jewellery thrown about. They did not hide their wealth, rather your father’s wealth, that their mother had inherited, and bought the fanciest dresses money could buy. It had almost worked one season, Colin Bridgerton had visited to call on Elizabeth. But upon seeing how lavishly she lived, and how horribly she had treated you upon her request for tea for the two of them, the third-eldest Bridgerton hadn’t called again.

She changed somewhat after that, you recalled. She didn’t find much enjoyment in gorgeous dresses or glittering diamonds. She didn’t speak much to you or her mother anymore either, but Mary was her confidant. Sometimes she would glance at you, a look of guilt on her face, but it briefly passed whenever her sister or mother made some snide comment about your presence.

Preparing breakfast was easily done. Keeping a portion for yourself on a separate plate, you carried the three other plates into the dining room with practiced ease. Mary squealed with delight, snatching one of the plates from your arm and almost knocking the others out of your grasp in the process. “Oh thank goodness, I’m starved!” she exclaimed, hastily digging in as if she hadn’t eaten in days. You handed a plate to Elizabeth, who seemed to nod slightly as you placed the plate before her. Lady Worthington however, merely sneered as you placed her plate on the table.

You excused yourself from the room and retreated into the kitchen, beginning to eat your portion of the remaining food whilst listening to their gossip quietly. They weren’t quiet by any means, though you supposed that it was in their nature to be loud and obnoxious.

“Mother, did you hear! I heard from Cressida that apparently Lord Bridgerton is looking for a wife this season!” Mary exclaimed, her words muffled likely by the food in her mouth. You heard Elizabeth sigh heavily “I won’t believe it until Lady Whisteldown writes about it-“

“Nonsense!” Lady Worthington cried, interrupting her daughter with a squeal, “If the rumour is true than we are going to take every advantage we can get. The two of you are going to do your damned best get his attention-“

“And what if we don’t, mother? What then?” Elizabeth spoke quietly, almost timidly. You heard Lady Worthington scoff “Oh, you will. We are going out as soon as possible to find you both new dresses for the ball tonight”.

“Oh mother, how exciting!” Mary cried, you could hear the chair scrape harshly against the wooden floorboards as she abruptly stood up from her seat, “We are going to be the most beautiful women at the Ball!”

“Y/N! Help my daughters get dressed! We will be heading out shortly, and make sure that the horses are prepared!” Lady Worthington shouted, the sound of her shrill cry causing a sense of panic to surge through you.

Coughing as you chocked on your food, you quickly wiped your mouth and fixed your skirts. “Yes, right away!” You called back, sighing heavily as you rushed back upstairs. Upon entering Mary’s room, your shoulders slumped in defeat. Clothes lay on almost every inch of the floor, dresses, undergarments, jewellery. This was going to be a tough morning.

Tag List:

@ladybirdbeetle7 @sweetsourpus @in-deans-arms @blackthorngirl @kee-0-kee

@sometimesminsan @prawntoastsworld @scoopsahoyspidey @darkness-falls-xo

@reallysparklychaos @hottie-bishop-belova @riptidewaters @jay-being-weird

@khhhhjj @golden-girasol @linnygirl09 @xoxonoire @stanmixtapes

@freyagallileaevans @gracielou0518 @judig92 @rafaaoli @queenslandlover-93

@esquivelbianca @fanfictioncafe @hjgdhghoe @sillynilly27

[emmyrosee]

tw // jokes about being tied up, jokes about "kidnapping," all for the sake of comedy. no kiyoomis were harmed in the making of this post ❤️

-----

“I have a plan.”

Kiyoomi chuckles softly as his thumb continues to scroll through his phone, the other gently rubbing back and forth over your shoulder. Your legs are tossed over his lap, arms around him, while his free arm encases you in a loving, safe hug.

Silence fills the room, a lightness to the air that only comes from your sacred time together, time where there’s no Miya barking in his ear, or Bokuto excitedly yelling. Time where your own boss isn’t in your mind, time where your thoughts are only filled with each other and only each other.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about my plan?” You ask.

He shakes his head and juts out his lower lip in thought, “nah. No, I’m good with just lettin’ you think.” When you reach up to grab his lower lip, he tucks it away, “oh my god, fine, what is your plan?”

You smile sweetly up at him and curl deeper into his side. He, taking your bait, puts his phone away and cradles your body, his head resting against yours and holding you as close as his long arms can gather.

You press a kiss to his neck, and the tender skin there bursts out in goosebumps from the unfamiliar sensation, skin that probably should be used to your affections by now, but perhaps that means you should just do it more.

“Okay,” you sigh happily. “Here’s my plan.”

“Go for it.”

“I’m gonna tie you up-“

“Dear god, not where I thought you were going, okay.”

“-and lock you in the attic, so like, no one can see you, except me and your family.”

“I’m glad you’re allowing my family to see me,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “but you can’t kidnap me.”

“It’s not kidnapping,” you defend. “It’s tactile hiding.”

“Okay, it still sounds sketchy and illegal,” he snorts. “You can dice it however you want. What about my team?”

“You’re trying to convince me to not kidnap you and you use your job as a defense?” You scoff. “They see you sweaty and perfect and handsome every single day, what if Meian steals you from me?”

He laughs softly at your words, pulling back to look at you sweetly, "sometimes, I would love to hear what goes through your head when you look at me that conjures such feral thoughts."

"Aw, sweetie," you coo, kissing his jawline. "No you don't."

"You're right, no I don't."

[shnarky-blogs]

GAHHHH imagine omegaverse version where reader is in heat but keep hiding

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬(⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦)

ᵗᵒᵗˢᵒᵐᵒᵗᵒ ʸᵘᵘˢʰⁱ ˣ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᶠᵗᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: 𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭, 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐝.

"Darling?.."

A soft deep voice rung out through the silence of the small apartment, you hid in the attic, hiding from Yuushi during your vulnerability.

You tried to compress your scent, but your body felt so hot.. you just wished for something to satisfy your needs.

When Yuushi's scent reached you, you couldn't help but let out little needy whines, wanting him so bad.. you just needed his touch, his cock filling you full till he knocked you up.

Oh that thought of being full of his seed was so tempting but.. you dont wanna because you're to embarrassed

:(

You just laid there quietly in the dark of the attic.

You could feel your slick leaking out from your hole, you just let out a soft small cry, you cant take it anymore! You dont.. your body was heating up and your tummy was feeling extremely weird.

So you gathered the courage to ask Yuushi to fuck you and satisfy your needs!

Once you got down and went to the shared bedroom, you saw Yuushi already Jacking off.. you just noticed your scent has actually got to Yuushi.. you got extremely embarrassed of that.

"Where were you sweetheart?"

He spoke out a bit sternly mixed with gentleness, He smirked and pulled your arm, pulling you towards him, making you sit on his lap, grinding his already hardened cock against your ass.

"your scent was so tempting hunny.. but i didn't want to force you.. so i just waited for you to come out.."

Then you clung to him tears already leaking showing how needy you were for him.

"Shh.. shh.. its okay darling, no need to cry, i got you.. don't worry"

He spoke out gently and raises your hips, pressing his tip against your boy pussy.

"You're already so wet my sweet boy.."

Then slowly he pushed inside, letting a soft groan.

"Oh.. thats it.. so so tight for me.. my sweet boy.."

Praises slip out from his lips as he gently bounced you on his cock.

His tip pressed against your cervix making you moan softly, clinging to him tightly.

"Do you feel me?.. you feel my tip hitting your insides.. feels so good right?"

You gasp softly and he held you closely, your legs wrapped around his waist as he help you ride him.

Your warm insides enveloping his long cock, its making him go crazy.

"So good baby.. you're such a good boy.."

He smiled and pulled you into a kiss.

"Baby, You like that?.. you're so so good to me.. fuck- you're getting tight."

He grunted softly and kissed you deeply, suddenly he pressed you down without warning and came inside of you, knotting you together, but- it seemed he wasn't done yet.

He gently pinned you down the futon and grabbed your hips gently and rocked his hips forward into your welcoming warmth.

"still not done.. we're gonna have a long night darling.."

[obeymelucigirlie]

A pact with Lucifer

Obey Me

Pairing: Lucifer x f!mc (reader)

Content warning: Explicit (NSFW/ Smut)

Summary: Lucifer agrees to make a pact with you in lesson 20... and takes you to his room to make you his.

You hear the faint sound of jazz from the cursed record wafting from the study.

Lucifer.

He’s the only one who hasn’t shown up at your impromptu farewell party. Your chest tightens with a pang of sudden sadness. Your last night in this crazy world. With these silly, loveable brothers who have changed your life for the better. If only you could stay…

You should rejoin the others. They’ll worry, come looking if you take too long. Mammon will freak out and call for a search party. But still, you feel an urge to check in on Lucifer.

You knock softly.

“Come on in.”

Lucifer is seated in his favorite chair, a glass of demonus in hand, eyes closed, enjoying the soft melody.

“It sounds like quite the party up in the attic. Since everyone else is busy up there, I get to enjoy my music in peace. Come, join me for a while.”

You take the other seat by the fireplace, enjoying his calming presence. Such a drastic change from the boisterous party roaring a few stories above.

He finally glances your way.

“Have you completed all that you set out to do here in the Devildom? No unfinished business? Loose ends?”

You consider him, then. This proud, detached man. The hardest to read of the seven brothers. He’s kept his walls up all year. How does he feel about you? Will he miss you at all?

You know you’ll miss him, perhaps most out of all of them…

You gather your courage and bring up the topic that’s been eating at you these past few days.

“Well, I still haven’t made a pact with you.”

Lucifer sits up in his chair, giving you a cold, calculating look.

“A pact, you say? I see. You’ve made pacts with all my brothers, which just leaves me…”

He stands up and stalks close to your chair, gazing down at you with his severe, crimson eyes.

“Do you really want to make a pact with me? Truly? I don’t know how my brothers felt about their decisions, but I am more than a name to be crossed from your list. I can’t have you lumping me together with everyone else. That won’t do.”

Lucifer transforms into his demonic form, looming over you menacingly. You gaze up at him, standing your ground. You’ve seen this side of him too often now to be frightened. Deep down, you know he won’t hurt you.

“You aren’t going to run? You’ve certainly got guts, don’t you? I’ve always found that aspect of you both irritating and endearing. Now, listen, and listen well. I will not be your possession. I won’t belong to you. You will belong to me. So, what will it be? Will you make a pact with me?”

Your breath catches at the sudden change in his tone, the possessiveness. You’ve never seen this side of him before.

He gazes down at you in his demonic form, his look both terrifying and heated.

You bite your lip, pondering. You’ve been dying to make a pact with him, make him yours, all year. Now this turn of events.

Lucifer wanting to make you his.

“Yes, I’ll make a pact with you.”

“… Good. Then it’s done. As of this moment, you are mine.”

You feel a sudden, intense connection with the demon. The turmoil of repressed emotions within him. His affection towards you, which he's tried to fight for so long. An intense desire. He wants you, needs you.

He must be sensing your emotions too, as his lips curl into a knowing smirk. He tilts his head, assessing.

“Does that takes care of all your loose ends?”

You return the smirk, slowly rising from the chair to stand face to face with the demon.

“There’s still one more.”

“Is there now?”

You place your hands on his warm chest and rise on your toes, tenderly kissing him. His lips are so soft, so inviting. He wraps his strong arms around you, returning the kiss with a wild passion.

“I’ve always known you wanted to do this. And I know what you’d like to do next as well.”

The demon smirks in-between his fiery kisses, a heated, hungry look in his crimson eyes.

“We’re heading straight to my room." He kisses you ravenously. 'You’re going to spend your last night in the Devildom with me…"

Lucifer trails wet kisses down your neck, sucking gently, whispering in his husky, gravely voice," all night long, until the break of dawn."

A shiver runs down your spine.

He kisses along your collarbone, "I’m not letting anyone else have you now… You’re mine.”

Your eyes go wide, you can't prevent a small moan from escaping as his words strike you to your core. You want - no, you need him to make you his.

He doesn't wait on a response. You agreed to the pact after all. And you know he can feel your desire. He relishes it. That you chose him out of his brothers, to spend your last night in the devildom in his arms.

Lucifer gathers you in his arms and strides across the hallway into his spacious room.

The moment the door closes he’s on you, all wild with want, pulling at your clothes, not caring as he tears at the clasps and buttons in his pressing need to feel your naked skin against his.

Lucifer captures your mouth in a heated kiss, grasping your hips, pulling you flush against his arousal, his hands exploring, caressing, squeezing. Needing to feel all of you. Now.

You moan as heat pools within your belly, his scent, caresses, his powerful body driving you mad with desire. You pull at his clothes, and he helps you, peeling his shirt off and unbuckling his pants as he pulls you towards the bed.

Once he’s naked in front of you, you pull back, taking him in. He’s beautiful. All chiseled, perfect, angelic beauty. And so very hard for you. You trail your fingertips along his chest, feeling his muscles tense under your touch, enjoying his reaction as you slowly move down, stroking his cock.

“Hmm… that’s it, yes… this feels so good.”

Lucifer coos, caressing your face, biting his lips at the intense pleasure.

You smirk and kneel before the demon, daintily placing your lips around his cock. He’s so big, so thick, but you want to please him, so you open wider, working through your gag reflex. His eyes go wide as you take him in, slowly, letting him feel your lips sliding around him, every swirl of your tongue. He moans and threads his hands into your hair, pulling, tugging lightly, begging you to take more of him, coaxing, all desperate need now.

“Oh, yes, just like that… hmm you take it so good my little lamb.”

He hums and coos, caressing your cheek, your hair whenever you choke slightly as he hits the back of your throat. You pick up the pace, relishing in his moans and encouragements.

It turns you on, seeing him like this, the avatar of pride, undone, at your mercy. Only for you. Only in the confines of your shared intimacy.

“I’m… I’m gonna…”

And he comes undone, grabbing the back of your head roughly as he fully sheathes his thick cock in your mouth, calling out your name, spurting deep down your throat. You do your best to swallow every last drop of his salty seed, licking your lips as you gaze up at him under your lashes.

Lucifer looks down upon your puffy, tear-stained face. He smiles tenderly, trailing a finger along your swollen lips.

“Hmm… now that was delightful.”

“Glad I could please you.”

You smirk, wiping at your eyes as Lucifer pulls you onto the bed and covers you with his weight, his intense heat. You desperately grab onto his neck, his hair, tugging, pulling, needing his soft lips on yours. He growls as he kisses you deeply, moaning as he tastes himself on your tongue.

He caresses you, running his hands and mouth, his hot tongue along your body, taking his time to pleasure you, delighting in the sighs and moans he elicits as he maps out your body, committing it to memory. Finding all the spots that drive you crazy. Make you cry out to him. He drives you insane as he kisses and sucks, leaving marks all over you, making sure you – and everyone else – knows you are his.

“Lucifer, please…”

“Please what?” He asks huskily, grinding against your heat in a delicious torture.

“I need you.”

You moan, grabbing at his silky raven hair, to gaze into his eyes, burning with desire.

“You’re so impatient. I did tell you we had until the break of dawn.”

He smirks, pressing his throbbing cock against you, rubbing himself against your clit, teasing, pressing the tip inside your slick folds in a tortuous caress.

“Lucifer… stop teasing…”

You growl as he captures your lips in a ravenous kiss.

“I will do as I please with you, my impatient little lamb… Remember...”

There’s a dangerous glint in his crimson eyes as he enters you, sharply.

“… you’re mine.”

You gasp at the sudden sensation of fullness, as your body struggles to adjust to him. He starts a wild rhythm, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you over and over, his cock stretching you almost painfully. But it feels so, so good. You pant and moan as your body overheats, every cell in your body responding to his every touch, his ravenous kisses. His forceful thrusts deep into your core.

You urge him on, biting down onto his shoulder and earning a satisfying groan. He kisses you demandingly. The rougher he gets, the more intense your desire. He moves sharply and quickly. Every movement perfectly designed to drive you wild with pleasure. You moan loudly into his lips.

“Lucifer…”

You are completely and wholly lost to the demon as he possesses your body with a wild abandon. Tethering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You feel yourself coming undone, Lucifer’s powerful thrusts pushing you into the mattress, dominating you so completely. Your bodies, slick with sweat, connecting so perfectly.

Lucifer feels your desperation.

He smirks as he whispers in your ear: “That’s it, come undone for me.”

“Lucifer…”

You moan loudly as you careen into a delicious state of bliss, your body shaking uncontrollably. You grab onto his strong body, trying desperately to stay grounded in reality. You can feel him finally letting go, thrusting deep into your core with a strangled groan of his own.

“Hmm…. That was…”

The demon gives you a cocky grin, “I know.”

Lucifer pulls you into his arms, kissing you lightly.

"You did good my little lamb." He coos, gently removing sticky, sweaty strands of hair from your forehead.

You smile a tired, satisfied grin as you try to catch your breath.

His hands trail down your back in light caresses as he lets you recover from the mind-blowing orgasm. You sigh with pleasure as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

His hands slowly wander further south, and you moan as he caresses your overly sensitive, overstimulated clit. You gasp as he slips one finger, then two, into your slick folds.

“Lucifer!”

“What part of until dawn haven’t you understood yet?”

He smiles devilishly as he replaces his fingers with his already throbbing cock.

Comments & reblogs appreciated 💛

[sungbeam]

𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬

jeong yunho x gn!reader

1.1k words, friends 2 friends who cuddle ?, one bed trope, fluff, humor, like two swear words cuz who am i without cursing, snuggling, consequences of yunho being Tall (implied that reader is shorter than yunho)

a/n: im sorry that this kinda sucks ass but yeah,, one bed trope :')

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I'm going to hate this,” Jeong Yunho swore as his head poked up into the attic space, eyes wide in horror.

When the inn owners said that the attic was hardly an attic, they unfortunately were not exaggerating. It was close to a crawl space, with just enough room for you to stand up straight, and outfitted with an extra long twin bed, nightstand and lamp, a pillow, and two large sherpa wool blankets. The bed was fitted beneath the slope of the roof because the entire space wasn't even large enough to put the bed in the middle.

You were starting to sweat, and considering there wasn't even heating up here, you raced to calm your nerves. “It'll be fine,” you said with a small, anxious laugh.

Yunho moved his terrified eyes up to you. “Respectfully? I'm gonna go sleep in the storm.”

When he moved to descend the ladder, you slid on your knees to grab hold of his wrist. “Come on, big guy. It's one night.”

“Yn, what if I said I was claustrophobic, huh?” He whined, but reluctantly followed you all the way up the ladder and into the attic. He straightened—big mistake. You heard the loud thump as his head met the roof, and grimaced. “Oooow!”

You hissed and reached over to gently rub the place that began to smart when he leaned down. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he whimpered. “Can I sleep in the lobby?”

Around ten minutes later, after many trials and tribulations and head bonks, you and Yunho somehow transferred your duffle bags up the ladder and into your glorified crawl space. They took up the space just beside the ladder and at the foot of the bed, and as you stared at said twin bed, you wondered if Yunho's legs would even fit on it.

Most likely not.

In fact, you were certain that two people couldn't even fit on the bed unless they were either on top of each other or packed together like sardines.

You reminded yourself that it was only going to be one night. This was what the two of you got for leaving five hours after everyone else, just to get caught in tonight's awful storm and stuck with the only “room” available for miles. In retrospect, it was your fault. Yunho had been generous enough in offering to stay behind with you until you finished your last exam.

“You can have the bed,” you told him as you were both crouched by your bags to grab clothes to sleep in. Despite your realization about your counterpart's long limbs and the bed's shortcomings, you wanted to extend an offer of chivalry.

Yunho twisted around and sent you an incredulous look. “What?”

“You drove us up here,” you replied with a shrug. You swiftly draped your sleep clothes over one arm and gathered your bag of toiletries in the other. “And you waited for me to finish my exam and you're kinda being dealt the short end of the stick with this room.”

He sat down on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, and though his face was still pulled into the same expression, he laughed. “Yn, I hate to break it to you, but I think you're gonna fit better on that bed than I will.”

You pursed your lips, gazing over at the narrow slot on the floor between the other sloping roof and the bed. That was the only other place someone could sleep in this room. “I don't want you to sleep on the floor though.”

“I know I was complaining, but don't worry about it,” he reassured as he turned back to dig through his duffle. He flicked his wrist blindly in your direction. “You can wash up first; I'll set everything up.”

Since he left little to no room for argument, you resolved to do as he suggested. There was a community washroom on the floor below that you made your way toward. As unfortunate as your accommodation was for the night, you were eager to head back up and go to sleep. Yours and Yunho's friends were all waiting at Seonghwa's cabin already, and perhaps it wasn't just exhaustion that made you antsy for this night to get a move on.

You and Yunho just needed to get through tonight. It would be fine.

When you returned to the attic crawl space, Yunho had everything set up as he said he would. He'd found an extra set of sheets from one of the downstairs closets and laid it on the ground by the bed, then rationed one of the blankets for himself and the other for you on the bed.

You let out a tired sigh and trudged over to the bed to grab the pillow from where it rested on the headboard. You set the pillow instead at the head of Yunho's sleeping situation, then balled up one of your jackets to use as your own pillow. Once satisfied, you climbed into bed, and you were out like a light.

Everything was hazy as you emerged from deep sleep to confused half-consciousness. The room was descended into darkness, the sounds of light rain drumming steadily against the sloped rooftop above your head. Your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton—why had you suddenly woken up?

Then you heard it.

“Achoo.” Then another one. And another one.

Even half dead, your brain could put two and two together. You rolled over slightly to wave your arm over the side of the bed, hand flapping around until you bumped Yunho's shoulder. “Hey, Yunho.”

Another sneeze.

“Yun, get your butt up here.”

He grunted. “'m fine.”

“You're gonna get sick,” you grumbled with your face half squished against your jacket zipper. That was definitely going to leave a mark in the morning. “Come up here, for fuck's sake.”

He made another noise, perhaps of acknowledgment, before you heard sounds of movement.

You kept your eyes half-lidded to keep as much light out as possible, and rolled over again. As he crawled onto his knees, and then his feet, you opened up your blanket to him so he could join you.

“Pillow,” he slurred—you whined when it hit you in the face. “Sorry.”

In a drowsy drugged tango, you swapped your jacket out for the pillow and Yunho wormed his way onto the bed beneath your blanket. You scooted as close to the wall as you could, but even then, Yunho was pressed flush against you. His arms came around your waist, his nose wedging itself between your neck and shoulder until he was comfortable.

“Your feet are cold,” you muttered. “Get them under the blanket.”

“Too tall.”

“Show off.”

He huffed out a puff of air against your neck like a laugh, then tucked his knees up slightly to fit under the blanket. Your legs were now tangled among his, your bodies curled tightly together. In the morning, you would rationalize it out as creating body heat to prevent either of you from getting sick.

When movement stopped, you voiced into the darkness, “Better?”

A content sigh. “Better.”

Maybe this accommodation wasn't so bad after all.

ateez m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet

[dahliakbs]

Batfam x Doppleganger! Reader (Part 1)

Synopsis: You secretly live with them but one terrible fever made you blow your cover

Masterlist , Part 2

Living with them was easy.

You'd been there long enough to have studied their mannerisms and speech patterns. Like the way they talked, how they would fidget or how they'd react in certain circumstances.

Like Bruce.

He was one if the easiest to impersonate. He barely spoke, always held a stoic expression and never really was seen around the manor.

Most of the time you'd use his likeness to go wherever you wanted and no one questioned you since... who would question Bruce Wayne?

Dick however was a little tough to do.

What you've gathered from your little study is that Richard was always trying to mold himself into what he thought the person needed to see him as and frankly speaking it was tiring.

Often times using his likeness meant you'd have to put up with his siblings crap to an almost extreme extent and you really couldn't hold out any longer when situations like that happened.

He was also a form that you couldn't use very often since most of the time he'd be in Blüdhaven.

Tim was your go to in any situation since he was either out on CEO business or cooped up in his room.

You'd related to his character alot since being in a house full of vigilantes always meant that you'd have to be alert in most situations if you didn't want to be caught. Which meant that you'd developed a serious case of insomnia.

Whenever they found you as Tim they'd leave you be because most of the time you'd be passed out on a couch or laying in one of the many comfortable beds around the manor.

They knew Tim needed his sleep so they never stuck around long enough to question why he wasn't in his room.

Damian was one form you'd refused to take on.

Most of the time he needed to be at school. Which meant that you could never walk around the house without being questioned as to why you weren't currently at home.

Like that one time Alfred caught you stealing food in the kitchen on a weekday and nearly sent you to school along with the real Damian.

On other occasions you'd never be able to fully keep up his persona and sometimes let a couple things slip.

Like that one time you'd done something uncharacteristically out of place. Like actually laughing at Dick's jokes, something Damian would never do.

Unlike the rest of his siblings Jason was completely out of the question. He was never in the manor and whenever he was he would always be scrutinized for causing trouble do walking around as him would be very inconvenient.

Now you'd never thought the day would come when you'd actually be caught.

You were so alert and vigilant, always making sure to not overstep or do anything that would rise suspicion but sadly that just wasn't enough.

It was a particularly harsh time of year for you, hay fever had kicked in.

Your throat was itchy, you were sneezing left and right and you were all alone the cold damp attic of the manor.

Usually around this time of year you needed to stay low-key, always hiding in the attic and making sure no one saw you.

Being sick would always mess with your ability.

Anytime you tried impersonating anyone it would always turn out weird or in some situations grotesque.

Multiple fingers would sprout onto each hand, random eyeballs would generate in peculiar parts of your body and sometimes you'd generate the wrong amount of hair all over your body. Ending up looking like a character straight out of a big foot.

Sometimes different body parts wouldn't finish generating or would be missing entirely.

Like the stump of your arm would be missing but you'd still have a hand connected to your shoulder.

Maybe you'd generate something more tame like the wrong eye color or your own physical features would show through. (Like freckles, stretch marks or beauty marks)

All in all it was horrible.

So when you realized that your stash of food for the month had run out so quickly you dreaded having to take up on one if their forms.

But alas you had to.

This time you'd taken on the form of Tim Drake, maybe they'd leave you alone if they thought you were their sleep deprived brother.

Sadly the transformation didn't turn out right.

Your eyes were the wrong shade if blue, your nose sitting a bit lower down in your fad and you'd generated several more fingers than necessary.

Even though you'd generated Tim's face your own features somehow shined through leaving a weird mixture of your features and his clashing together.

Seeing yourself like that nearly made you bring up whatever junk food you'd eaten earlier but you'd have to pull through.

Quickly you hopped down from the misplaced wooden board in their ceiling and made your way through the manor. Maybe you'd be lucky to find no one home.

Making your way down to the kitchen was fairly easy which was odd since it was a weekend which meant almost everyone would be home but you disregarded that and instead focused on grabbing things from the pantry.

You'd been so engrossed in your actions that you didn't notice the figure creeping up behind you.

They just stared at you as you continued taking stuff from the pantry.They seem paralyzed at what they were seeing.

When you finally turned around to exit the kitchen you'd frozen immediately.

You didn't know what to say.

The figure in front of you who you'd come to realize was Tim Drake himself had caught you.

....

You'd tried to stay silent and not move, wondering if you stood completely still would you just disappear in his eyes but sadly the sneeze that was bubbling in your chest said otherwise.

The sneeze causing you to shift painfully between the many forms you'd taken on before finally switching back to your normal self.

Well you just significantly screwed yourself.

Before the situation could get any worse you made the first move, choosing to slide past his frozen figure and bolt back to the attic.

Knowing Tim you wouldn't have enough time to get out of here before he'd alerted everyone of your presence in the manor.

Meanwhile in the bat cave

"Guys, I just ran into myself...grabbing food from the kitchen" Tim slowly descended the stairs with a confused expression settling on his tired face.

"You sure you didn't just start hallucinating?" Damian asked.

"No he's right, look at this" Bruce motioned towards the monitor. It seems that he'd been surfing the security camera footage while you'd chosen to look for food.

A video of you hastily walking through the hallways earlier played on the screen.

The fine details of your figure could be seen in the monitor, like the multiple fingers hanging off your palm and the severely different face that resembled Tim to an extent.

Then the monitor switched to another video of you standing in the kitchen, your body was swaying dangerously from side to side as you tried to reach their pantry. It seems you were more sick than you yourself were aware of.

A couple seconds later Tim came into the kitchen followed by you turning around and switching between different members of the family before settling on to what seems to be your real form.

"That's unnerving" Damian commented.

"I know right they had like nine fingers" Tin shuddered at the sight of your hands before noticing Dick quickly leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"To meet our new roommate"

"Shouldn't we get to know them first before you allow then to live here permanently" Tim asked only to be ignored by Dick's quick moving form.

"Shouldn't you be stopping him" Tim turned back to Bruce.

"With father's history I doubt he'd mind adding them to the family" Damian stated.

So I guess welcome to the family?

[the-artist-grimm]

Closeup plus basic notes of the lamb's room from my Starfall comic! Anthea's got a room in the attic of the temple

Also extra notes! Placing under Read More just to keep things tidy

The One Who Waits Alter

Anthea started worshipping TOWW shortly after entering Ratau's care. The rat hadn't exactly planned on telling his freshly orphaned, somewhat traumatized ward that their new guardian was previously a cult leader, but Anthea discovered some of his old books on the lost 5th Bishop of Death one day and Ratau was left little choice but to explain. The book was an exact copy of an extremely old, likely from right before Narinder was imprisoned, text that depicted the god of death as a kind, patient being, which for the lamb whose family had died in the most violent way possible quickly became a comfort. It contrasted Ratau's own memories of a somewhat more reserved, stern god, but since it made Anthea happier he decided to let it be. Anthea hasn't missed a nightly prayer ever since, and still does it before bed despite now having direct access to the god himself. The layout was one they read from that old book, which stated that a pentagram wreath was to hang between an evenly divided four candles. Unwritten however was the reasoning-the center was Death, and on either side his siblings who ruled over Life. They were meant to be lit in honor of the siblings who took care of the mortals Narinder would eventually receive after death.

Stars and Starmap

Back when he was still alive the lamb's father, Aries, would take Anthea with him on supply runs knowing they didn't get much one on one time otherwise with their younger siblings around. They'd sometimes be out overnight so the two would go stargazing, and its something the lamb still holds dear. Their original copy of the book, 'A Story of Stars' was one of his last gifts to them which even while he was alive Anthea was super careful with it since books are hard to get, but their brothers kinda colored all over it while Anthea was out gathering supplies shortly after his death one time. The lamb played it off and shared with them after as a 'oh they're little and just miss dad its ok' type of thing, but it was kinda reluctantly, with them being secretly upset about it whenever they saw scribbles all over their favorite illustrations while reading to the kids. It burned with their old life, and now Anthea would give anything to have those scribbled pages back.

Sleep Potions and Herbs

The lamb suffers from sleep problems and often brews their own remedies. They know not to take them often since they're kinda really strong-like once they kick in they literally just pass out, but they keep them around for when nightmares get bad. They know a few other remedies from Flinky, since he used to double as both Ratau's right hand and cult medic. Antidotes, pain tonics, basic essentials for when you don't have a doctor.

The Crown

Gonna make a silly doodle comic but after an uh...awkward incident with Narinder calling the lamb while they were dressing one morning the two made a deal in regards to his being able to see through the crown-if the crown is off and facing a wall it means the lamb needs privacy and he's to try again later or until they call back unless told otherwise. Look he may be a bit of a grumpy god but Shamura raised at least one brother to be a gentleman lol

Hope Chest

In sheep culture weaving/knitting with wool was a huge thing, especially for ewes, like most learned from the time they could walk from their mothers. After coming of age most would start keeping a chest they'd gradually fill with handmade linens, blankets, ect. for their future homes after marriage, and it was something Ratau encouraged Anthea to do since he didn't want them to just drop their culture. They still got a loom over at his place since it's hard to move, though they do have knitting needles in the chest.

Books

Books are somewhat hard to come by if you're not in one of the Bishops' cults where they have scribes so Anthea tends to collect any and all they find

Ratau's Family Crest

Given to the lamb on their 18th birthday. Rats have family crests tattooed onto their foreheads at 18, and since he'd essentially adopted Anthea Ratau thought it was fitting to give them something similar but not permanent. It fell off during their execution, but they made sure to go back and grab it after downing the heretics that attacked after resurrection. They still wear it now under their tunic

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - implied kidnapping, possessive behavior, slight stalking, delusional thoughts.

[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]

Like most tailors, Chiori often finds herself preoccupied with the concept of preservation.

It’s as inevitable as it is unreasonable, for those who work through mediums as impermanent as fabric and textile. To make a piece of clothing is to make something that, by its very definition, cannot last. No matter how fine the silk, no matter how strong the thread, no matter how sturdy her design – colors will fade and stitches will run and eventually, the only thing left of her masterpiece will be a pile of scraps left to rot underneath a bed or among the cobwebs in a forgotten attic corner. Fashion is an even more unforgiving mistress. What does it mean to try and capture the beauty of a single moment in a world that stood for a thousand years before she ever thought to pick up a needle and will stand for a thousand more, when she’s no longer able to? What does it mean that she keeps trying, regardless?

Inevitably, when Chriori thinks about herself and her craft, she thinks about preservation. And, when she thinks about preservation, she thinks about you.

You, in the most generous of sentiments, are the enemy of permanence. Her designs may eventually fall apart, but you seem to tear and shatter all that you touch, to rend the very fabric of reality without ever dropping that achingly oblivious smile. Your first visit to her shop ended with a shattered teacup, your second with a chip to the blade of her favorite pair of sheers, your tenth with a pot of her darkest, blackest dye splattered across an otherwise untouched skein of dove-white silk. Calling you clumsy would be an understatement – you’re a vehicle of pure destruction, an entity of the type of chaos that so often reduces her finest creations to rags. If it wasn’t for the way you apologize so wholeheartedly after each and every offense, the bright optimism written across your expression each time you step through the door of her boutique, she might mistake your drastic lack of coordination for a deliberate act of sabotage. At least, if that were the case, she may be able to find the strength to banish you entirely from her domain.

Her frequent gifts to you – unpaid orders, she assures, items that would just go to waste if left to gather dust on her shelves – are demolished with a similar haste. That, you can blame on the needs of your trade, claim that the clothes of the noble class don’t mix with the work of laborers, but as often as she tries, she fails to see what’s so dangerous about hauling spools of ribbon and crates of lace from one boutique to another. You do your best to mend torn sleeves, to find replacements for missing buttons, but she almost wishes you wouldn’t – that you’d let her claims to you die a swift death rather than defacing them so humiliatingly. In her weakest moments, she considers that being more blatant with her intentions, speaking to you in something other than cutting innuendo and being more transparent in her attempts to carve her name into you, but it wouldn’t make a difference. Your nature, so quick and brash and thoughtless, is contradictory to hers. No number of signatures stitched into the hems of undercollars and lipstick stains pressed into the lining between layers of material can change that.

Certainly, none of it can change the trait Chiori finds most troubling in you – your willing inability to preserve even the most precious of things, yourself. Fontaine is a much more gentle land than Inazuma, but no part of Teyvat is completely free from risk. You brag worryingly often about your run-ins with local monsters, go on at length about having to guard the embroideries she had commissioned from the finest thread-painters in Liyue from fabric-eating slimes and especially fashionable thieves, but all your levity can’t seem to draw your attention from the bruises blossoming upward from your shirt collar, the bandages so often wrapped around knuckles and plastered over your cheeks. Mortality is a concept you seemed to have considered briefly and ultimately discarded, leaving Chiori to try to make something redeemable out of the scraps. It’d be enough to drive anyone mad. It’d be enough to drive any good tailor to extremes.

You are not a delicate fabric. Satin can be properly hemmed and handled with gloves, embroidery glazed over with perfumes and resins, lace held to a candle and burnt into a more sustainable form, but you are not so easily changed. Gowns have no regard for safety or the lack thereof, but you – frustrating, impossible you – seem to actively detest the very idea of it.

You are the enemy of permeance. It’s a thought Chiori often considers, lingers on, obsess over, as she would the safe keeping of any of her proudest works.

But, she finds herself thinking, as she feels the reassuring chill of iron chains again her palm and weighs it against two matching twin cuffs, there’s a chance she may just be pairing you with the wrong materials.

[zevrra]

caught in the rain—

synopsis: you and sebastian seek shelter inside an abandoned home where every feeling is laid to bare.

tags: sfw, pure fluff, fem!reader, hogwarts legacy, sebastian sallow(18+), about 3k words

“As if this day couldn’t get any worse,” You mutter. Mostly to yourself but you wouldn’t at all be surprised if Sebastian had heard too. You both had been sent out together to gather some information about some dark magic being practiced on the Poidsear Coast.

Everything had been going smoothly, from taking witness statements to tracking down the dark wizard’s hideout to the coast, even the two of you getting along.

That is until an unexpected heavy downpour comes. Cold rain falls heavy like a thick blanket on the two of you, forcing you to take shelter. Every piece of clothing you wore was soaked—down to your very bones. Thankfully, Sebastian and yourself had managed to find an abandoned home. Boarded up with a more than obvious appearance of not having been taken care of in a very long time.

While you say things could not be worse you really didn’t mean it. Being rained on and forced to wear your freezing clothes wasn’t truly the worst thing in the world. Neither was being stuck in that house with your academic rival. And crush.

“Well. Try not to make it sound so horrible now,” Sebastian sarcastically says. Teasing you as he shrugs off his heavy coat in some hope to warm himself. Rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt as he does anything but look at you. “We could be in some troll’s den. That would be worse.” He chuckles as he checks out the house, hoping to find anything to maybe start a fire with. Swatting away at cobwebs with an annoyed look.

You sigh. Too cold to even defend yourself at the moment. Moving to stand next to a window. Watching as lightning flashes across the sky and the harsh sound of thunder that follows.

“We’ll be here all night if this storm doesn’t stop soon.” You say, irritated. Not that sleeping in some random home, far from the safety of Hogwarts, with no other change of clothes, no warmth, and no bed, didn’t sound fantastic and all but it would also reset all of your progress from today. Tracking down the dark wizard hiding out on this coast had been an assignment given to the two of you and not completing it would leave you both looking rather poorly in your professor's eyes.

“You worry too much,” Sebastian says, cutting into your thoughts, making you look away from the window and towards where his voice had carried from.

You watch as he moves towards the other end of the dark home, Lumos, lighting the tip of his wand as he examines the place. Stairs lead to a second story or perhaps an attic in the farthest corner from the door. Off next to the stairs is a large stone fireplace just waiting to be lit.

“See, always so dramatic.”

You roll your eyes at Sebastian as you follow him into the home. Shoulders tense as you wait for anything to jump out at you. No damn spider was sneaking up on you, not today. In a smaller room straight across from the stairs sits untouched furniture from who knows how long ago. With chairs perfect for disassembling and using as firewood.

Well, at least you’d be semi-warm and somewhat dry for the rest of the time being.

After some rearranging and the use of Incendio, the two of you make quick work of starting a fire and laying out your cloaks before the hearth to dry. Now you are left in just your blouse and skirt, shoes and socks forgotten until they also get the chance to dry as the storm continues to rage outside.

Sebastian stood beside the fireplace, hands held out to try and warm his fingers up. The dull sound of the rain is really the only noise the two of you make. You were friends, classmates, but above all rivals. You could have a civil conversation but seeing as the two of you were there on an assignment, things were tense as both of you wanted to outdo the other.

You shiver, curling up on yourself by pulling your knees to your chest. The fire was working well but the wet clothes still sticking to your body kept you from truly getting to warm up.

“I’m going to go look for a blanket.” Sebastian says, suddenly breaking the silence between the two of you.

You nod in response as he leaves to rummage around the forgotten home. His search for a blanket takes him up the stairs and you watch him go. An eerie feeling creeps up your spine as soon as you‘re left alone. The strange feeling of being watched itches just behind your senses of being cold. It makes you look over your shoulder a few times. That is until Sebastian finally returns.

A thick quilt is draped across your shoulders that startles you ever so slightly. In all honesty, you had thought Sebastian went to retrieve the blanket for himself. Now with the heavy cloth wrapping around your own body you realize that he had been watching you beforehand. He had retrieved the blanket solely for you. The thought makes you flush.

He moves to sit beside you now. Hands returning to hover out in front of the flickering flames. “There’s also a bed upstairs. If you’re tired.” Sebastian once again cuts through the silence to speak.

You laugh at his words. Shaking your head as you tighten the blanket around you. “Tempting but no thank you.” You reply, turning your gaze to the fireplace.

“Why not?” Sebastian asks. From his tone he seems genuinely confused.

His confusion makes you chuckle again. As if he really didn’t know. “Oh alright, Sebastian. Let me just go take a small nap while you run off, find and finish our assignment, and then take all of the credit.” You tease. A smile stretches across your lips as if you’ve caught him in the act.

You imagine he’ll make some funny quip about how you were right and that he was just thinking of a way to get ahead in your studies but instead he says nothing.

The silence has you lifting your head to glance over at the other. His brow is furrowed and there’s a deep frown on his face. Clearly you’ve said something wrong.

“Do you truly think I’m so shallow?” Seb whispers. His voice drips with displeasure.

The disdain in his tone was not something you were used to. Sure, Sebastian had had his moments for being a little irritated with you. From cave crawling and accidentally setting off a trap to the two of you butting-heads for top grades but never had he sounded so…upset and hurt before.

Now it was your turn to truly be confused. You did not think of him as shallow or selfish but you also wouldn’t put it past your rival to take the upper hand on you.

“I don’t find you shallow.” You awkwardly reply. Suddenly you’re thankful for the sound of rain and thunder. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” You add quickly afterwards.

“We may be rivals academically but I’m not your enemy. I’m not evil. I still care for you.” Sebastian says with a sigh. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face. Searching for something you’re not sure of at the moment.

“I apologize,” You mutter. Now would be the perfect time to suddenly disappear. “I simply just thought because of school you would take the opportunity…” You ramble. Wondering why you were even telling Sebastian any of this.

This time, it’s his turn to laugh. It’s a very dry and curt laugh. No humor lingers behind it like it normally would. “I would never sabotage you.”

“No?” You reply short and simple. Wondering why now he would have a soft spot for you. Seeing as he had never before when it involved your academic standpoint.

“What do I have to gain besides you hating me?” Sebastian asks, again genuinely curious. His now warmed hands rub against his cold shoulders and biceps. Hoping to chase away the chill. “I would never want you to hate me.” He adds in a hushed voice.

Listening to Sebastian be so open was definitely something entirely new to you. He was the type to be open about pretty much everything except his feelings. His true, genuine, feelings. And now that he was wearing his heart on his sleeve, you couldn’t help but want him to keep talking. “Not that I would ever hate you but would that really be the end of the world?”

Sebastian turns to look at you then. His brown eyes meet your own as the light from the fireplace softly caresses his features. Turns his freckled face into something far more gentle than you’re used to. Yet you weren’t entirely sure if that was because of the dim lighting or the fact that he was looking upon you with such tenderness that it made him look more attractive suddenly.

“To me, yes, it would be.” He admits openly. As if this is something Sebastian said on a daily basis. As if he constantly told you how important you truly were to him.

Upon realizing his confession, Sebastian’s eyes widened. He coughs in an attempt to move the conversation along, or even just to simply cover up the fact that he just told you how horrible the world would be without you. His face flushes a dark red that even in the dim light you can see.

“Only because, well, you know! I wouldn’t have anyone else to compete with!” He stammers, trying to save face.

It’s a little too late for that now though. You knew he meant something a little more meaningful.

You smile as he avoids your line of sight. “Sebastian…” You whisper. His name rolling off your tongue has him freezing in place. Unsure if he should flee and never speak about this ever again or just stay still long enough he can pretend he’s dead. “Be honest.”

Sebastian continues to ignore your gaze for the most part. Fiddling with some interesting looking piece of dust on the rundown wooden floor.

“I don’t know what you mean. I am honest! All the time!” Embarrassingly he answers. “You’re just too dense to see it!” The insult is a hollow insult at best. Just another tactic to avoid the situation he’s started.

You hum in response. Scooting closer to the other to try and get a good look at his blushing face. “How so?”

“N-nothing! No, I don’t know!” Sebastian deflects. Attempting to turn and hide his face from your gaze.

You had never seen him so defensive before. Wanting to close off from you entirely but that was something you would not allow. He started this and he needed to finish it or else you might go mad.

“What do you mean?” You ask. Not that you couldn’t read his body language at the moment but you still wanted him to tell you. To be loud and clear with his feelings so that you too could be honest about your own.

“Ugh!“ He groans in frustration. His hands come up to hide his face from your gaze. Covering over mainly his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at you looking at him. “I’ve been in love with you since the first day we met! You’ve never noticed it before so why are you suddenly so keen!?”

The inside of your stomach does a flip. The first day you two met was almost three years ago. Had you really never noticed any of his advances? You think back on all the times when he’d let you copy his notes when you were busy with Mr. Fig for the day. Of all the times he called you annoying but would do anything you asked of him. The countless hours you two would spend in the undercroft, practicing your spells and studying together.

All this time…and he only ever stayed by your side.

You reach to grab gently ahold of his wrists. Somewhat prying his hands away from his face so you could get another good look at him. He’s a mess. Red as a tomato. Blushing like he had been sick with a fever. Hair tousled and curled far more than usual from previously having been rained on.

Sebastian Sallow, your friend and rival, sat before you entirely and wholeheartedly shy. Something you would never have imagined to happen before this day.

He’s still under your touch. Still attempts at avoiding your eyes even now. Doesn’t stop you from reading over his features. From every freckle highlighted by his blush to the pretty length of his eyelashes. He was so handsome. Far more than you had ever realized before.

“Sebastian,” You whisper in a soft tone. As his name is called, his head shifts ever so slightly as he finally meets your gaze once more. A rush of emotion swirls up inside of you. Your chest tightens with sudden adoration for the man sitting before you.

He doesn’t say anything in response though. Just slowly takes control over his own hands, placing one against your cheek. His fingers run gently across your skin. Pushing back damp hair as he finally wants to look at your face.

“You’re an idiot. A fool,” Sebastian mumbles after a few painstakingly long heartbeats. “How did you not know?” He asks as his thumb caresses the high of your cheekbone. A lighthearted tone to his voice. As if it were obvious.

His words make you laugh ever so slightly. Of course you hadn’t realized it. Too blinded by your competitive drive to know that all along he was only competing in hopes to make you like him. Which was silly in itself. Seeing as you had always liked him too.

“Forgive me for not seeing it before,” You reply with a smile. Reaching to touch the back of his hand lovingly. “I would like to know everything now.” You add as you turn your head to kiss the inside of his palm.

His breath hitches as he watches you kiss his hand. A slight tremble in his shoulders tells you he’s holding back on moving things further. Even as his thumb brushes against your lips, while his brown eyes stare at every curve his thumb traces. Wanting to commit all of you to every bit of his memory.

“You…you’re over dramatic, always worrying about me. Sometimes you’re too loud. You manage to best me at everything.” Sebastian rambles on with a soft laugh. “And I love every bit of it. Your drive, your excitement, the way you laugh. Everything about you…”

Sebastian softens as he continues to stare at you. His eyes flick up from your lips to your eyes before glancing back down at the lips he tenderly touches. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you for far too long…”

The words he speaks makes your heart beat far too fast. With how hard your heart beats and how tight your chest is, you could almost swear your heart might have burst out from beneath your ribcage right then and there.

Your own face softens. Pressing your lips gently into the pad of his thumb. “What are you waiting for?” You ask with a smile. And immediately Sebastian mirrors your smile. Now, nothing was going to hold him back.

For a moment, as he leans forward to capture your lips, you thank the sudden rainstorm. For without it, you would never have ended up here, held so lovingly in Sebastian’s arms.

[air--so--sweet]

I found out from the production designer's website and an interview he did that the basement kitchen is actually the 'kid's lounge', a space the siblings created for themselves.

And I've been obsessed with it ever since because I feel it gives us more of an idea about what the umbrellas childhoods were like.

Because, okay there's the slightly extravagant things like the pool table and foozball table, but most of it is very simple. A hifi system and a collection of cassettes and CDs (I bet Luther was only allowed have a record collection as part of his special treatment as Number One), what looks like board games and some toys in what used to be the butcher shops fridges and there's another toy next to the hifi system that looks similar to some of the ones we see in Five's room.

And in the scene where Allison and Diego fight Cha Cha we see art supplies as well.

These are just basic things most kids would grow up with but the umbrellas had to create a secret place, away from their father, to have them. It's just desperately sad.

But I also find it kind of beautiful that they worked together to make a place for themselves and I like to imagine the process of it coming together. Them scavenging furniture from the unused academy rooms. One of them finds the table in storage room, or the attic maybe, and then over the next few weeks they manage to take chairs from different rooms until they can all sit at the table together. Coming home from Griddy's one night (sneaking out became a lot easier once they had a separate entrance that their dad didn't know about) they spot an armchair and a sofa left out on the sidewalk and they don't look in too bad a condition so Five jumps back with the armchair while the others carry the sofa home (Five was still getting the hang of jumping with objects, the sofa was still a bit too big for him to manage). Grace catches them stealing food to take downstairs one day and she mentions it to Pogo (who knows about the room since it's right next to his own room, but he chooses to turn a blind eye) and suddenly there's a fridge in the room and Grace makes sure it and the cupboards are always fully stocked, even after the kids are gone (we see Five make a sandwich here when he comes back from the apocalypse). Hargreeves never interacts with Grace much and doesn't pay much attention to the food orders she makes as long as she stays in budget so some extra loaves of bread or jars of peanut butter won't catch his attention.

And Hargreeves never found out about the room because There's no reason for him to go to the basement, the only things in the basement are Pogo's room (so telling that there are 42 bedrooms in the academy but Pogo is relegated to the basement) and a utilitiy room. Viktor's cell is also in the basement but it's accessed by a separate elevator so Hargreeves wouldn't pass the kid's lounge to get to it.

You can tell how important the space was to the siblings as well because of how they use it in adulthood.

It's where they all go when Five returns and where they hangout when in the academy (we see them in the living room too but mostly for family meetings).

When Viktor comes to invite the others to his concert he comes through the butcher shop entrance.

It's where Klaus gathers his brothers when he tells them that he spoke to Reginald the night before.

And, even when he was the only one left living in the academy, Luther ate breakfast there.

It's the only part of the academy they feel is truly theirs and theirs alone. It's their safe place.

[geopsych]

A cobweb in the attic gathers dust... But a cobweb in the outdoors gathers dewdrops that scintillate in the sun. Get out. Find your hope. Read the Earth. It is an extraordinary book: full color, stereo sound, wonderful aromas, the wind. It is an extraordinary planet. —David Brower

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (01)

chapter one: flutter

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: implied smut, aftercare, mentions of alcohol consumption, hints of oc being a little emotionally constipated lol, barely edited but we should all be used to seeing that from me atp word count: 2.3k note: eeeek my first lino series is here 🥺 there's not much substance in the first part bc we're mostly just setting things up. thank you to my wifeus in the obs server (you know who you are ofc) for being the best cheerleaders, bc i don't think i would've gone through with writing this fic if it wasn't for you. fwb lino probably would've had to gather dust in the attic if you hadn't encouraged me to write him. thank you and love you <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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Tomorrow when it's over and we're sober I just want to believe that you'll miss me But I shouldn't 'cause we're just friends Now we're day drunk in the back seat of a taxi And you're telling me you wanna kiss me But we shouldn't 'cause we're just friends

Just Friends - Virginia to Vegas

“Minho.”

“Hmm?”

“Get off of me.”

He doesn’t, of course. Because Minho is stubborn and Minho does whatever he wants sometimes. “No,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing a soft kiss there that makes the stupid thing in your chest flutter against your will. You don’t let yourself indulge in the feeling for too long though, only a second. “You’re too warm.”

“Min,” you scold lightly, but you can’t say that you don’t enjoy having his body on yours like this. It’s different than when you’re having sex, because this is more intimate somehow, just him holding you - or rather, resting the entirety of him on top of you like the human version of a weighted blanket. Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am! but with a Minho-esque flare that he doesn’t have to appease you with, but chooses to anyway.

One of the reasons why you don’t let yourself relish in the moment is because intimacy isn’t what you signed up for. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of what you both agreed on. No strings attached - it was the only instruction, plain and simple.

And so you nudge his shoulder again, making him sigh and begrudgingly sit up, in all of his post-sex glory. Disheveled fluffy hair, a couple of fading marks on his neck courtesy of you, kiss-swollen lips and a kind of glow that you’re fairly certain matches your own.

“Hang on,” Minho says, I’ll get you a towel.”

He quickly throws on his boxers - previously discarded on the floor - and heads to your bathroom. He returns to your side just a couple minutes later with said item in hand, dabbing the soft cloth at your core tenderly.

“You okay?” he asks. “I wasn’t too rough on you tonight?”

You like the aftercare, and how tender he always is with you. You’re not sure if that’s the extra effort that he puts in with everyone he’s ever hooked up with, or if you two are just naturally comfortable around each other, but it’s reassuring. It’s nice to know that this agreement between the two of you hasn’t tarnished your friendship.

Yet?

Yet.

“You were perfect,” you tell him with a coy smile. “I was the one who asked for it anyway.”

Minho chuckles, then pats your bare thigh for good measure as he takes one final swipe at your core before chucking the towel into the laundry basket in the corner of your room.

He plops onto your bed again, propping himself on an elbow so he could look down at your face, highlighted only by the dim light of the small lamp on your bedside table. The way that his bicep flexes still puts you in a bit of a trance, even though you’ve seen it probably hundreds of times already.

“You know, I was pretty surprised when you asked me to try that with you,” he says, eyeing your mouth again. “Didn’t think you’d be down for experimenting new things with me.”

“Well, who else am I supposed to try things out with?”

You’re not even sure what you meant - the words just rolled off your tongue - but you don’t miss the instantaneous look of pride on his face. To hear something like that from you is clearly an ego boost for him.

You don’t miss the subtle blush that tints both of his cheeks and the top of his ears either, but you don’t dwell on it for very long.

Come to think of it, you don’t let yourself indulge in a lot of things when you’re around him.

His free hand comes up to draw imaginary patterns along your arm, starting from your shoulder, down to your elbow, then across your forearm until you could feel his fingers on the back of your hand. “I forgot to mention earlier,” he says, tracing what you think is an invisible outline of a heart on your skin. “Hyunjin knows.”

“Knows what?” you ask.

“He knows that we’re hooking up,” Minho tells you, then clarifies when he sees your eyes widening. “Well, he doesn’t know that it’s you. He knows that I’m hooking up with someone.”

You mimic his position, propping yourself up on one elbow so your face is more leveled with his, evidently alarmed at the mention of your friend finding out about a secret that you've been trying to hide for months now.

No, a secret would imply that you have more things you have to conceal. It’s probably more accurate to refer to it as the secret.

Sometimes, even you yourself wonder why this is something you need to hide from everyone. 

It’s not like you’re living in the Victorian era where people are scandalized by the appearance of a bare knee. It’s not like your friends are prudes either; most of them have had their fair share of friends with benefits. It’s all casual, all in good fun.

But maybe it’s because it’s Minho that you’re currently… preoccupied with, that makes you feel less inclined to share with the rest of the group.

If any of them catches wind of this, you know they’ll have loads to say about it, starting with a thorough but well-intentioned lecture from Chan. 

You were good friends before your thing started.

You had a friendship. You had something to lose.

You don’t know why you would even risk it in the first place.

It just happened.

One particularly lonely night. You had some alcohol in your system, and that always made you more sentimental than usual. There was something romantic in the air, or maybe that’s just what you thought looking at everything through the lenses of three glasses of wine. Not drunk, just buzzed enough to be reminded that Minho was one of the most beautiful people you’d ever laid your eyes upon.

But the accumulation of all those factors didn’t matter - couldn’t have mattered - more than the fact that he was there for you.

He listened to you brood over how suffocated you felt, how stagnant your life was, how nothing seemed to be going the way you wanted no matter how hard you tried. He didn’t offer you unsolicited advice, didn’t make you feel silly for moping. He was a soothing presence and that was enough for you.

Sometimes, your friends liked to say that you two would make a good couple because of how compatible you were. Chan once commented that you and Minho were a perfect fit, and that was what kept plaguing your mind moments before you kissed Minho for the first time.

Maybe you’re the missing piece of my puzzle, you had thought back then. My perfect fit.

You had pulled away after a couple of seconds, mortified, but his reaction was immediate. He’d chased after your lips again, no questions asked.

You knew it was a rash decision, spurred on by the heat of the moment and cheap convenience store rosé. Minho was so… goddamn addictive after just one taste that you couldn’t resist anymore. Having him felt like you finally had a taste of water after spending years deprived.

Needless to say, he ended up in your bed that night. The rest is… well, it doesn’t take a genius to deduce the subsequent series of events that led you here.

“Elaborate,” you say with an arch of your eyebrow.

“You texted when he was hanging out at my place and I was in the bathroom.” Minho shrugs. “That nosy little thing. He scrolled through quite a bit of our texts too.”

You frown. “He read our texts but he doesn’t know it’s me?”

“I don’t have you saved as your name.”

“Then what do you have me saved as?”

Up until now, you never even thought about this, and you’ve always just assumed that you’re in his contacts under your name, like he is in your list. Well, technically you have him saved as ‘Min’, but anyone who comes across it could still easily identify who you’re referring to.

Minho purses his lips, contemplating for a minute before he ultimately decides to withhold this information from you. He gives you a teasing smile, another shrug, before saying, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out when the time comes.”

“I don’t get to know what my own name is in your phone? Even Hyunjin knows, apparently.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know it’s you, so what does he really even know?”

“But I have a right-”

“Shhh.” Then he’s leaning forward to shush you with a quick kiss to your lips. It does the job, because you shut right the hell up. It surprises you every time he kisses you when you’re not in the middle of sex. Moments like these are rare, but you’re always rendered speechless by how casually he does it, how familiar the simple action is even when it shouldn’t be, and most of all, you’re dumbstruck by just how right it feels.

“Am I gonna see you before Yeonjun’s party on Saturday?” he asks, like nothing even happened. Your lips are tingling from a simple peck. It’s so silly, considering how just half an hour ago, he was literally inside of you, pounding you into oblivion until you had tears streaming down your face. Until you were crying out his name like it was the only word you’d ever known.

You quickly regain your composure. “I don’t know, maybe. I have a final paper to finish so I’ll probably be holed up here or at the library,” you tell him. “Maybe we’ll catch each other on campus. But if not, then, yeah, I’ll see you at the party.”

Minho seems disappointed, evident from his immediate and adorable pout. 

“It’s just a few days.” You roll your eyes harmlessly, lying back down again to snuggle into your pillow. “You’ll live.”

“Will I?” he grumbles. “What am I supposed to do for four whole days?”

“Don’t you have your finals too?”

“All presentations and papers. Finished the last one today.”

“Oh,” you say, mildly impressed by the fact. You always forget how studious he actually is. “Internships?”

“Already sent in my applications.”

“Changbin says you’ve been talking to that girl Hana in your class.”

You don’t know why you brought it up. You don’t even like hearing the words coming out of your own mouth.

Minho makes a face, almost like he’s taken aback that Changbin would even tell you that. “Because we’re in the same group for our final presentation,” he informs you.

“She seems nice, from what I’ve heard about her. Seems like she has a big fat crush on you too.”

“Not to sound mean, but I don’t really care about that.”

A feeling blooms in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that you cannot and will not give a name to. There’s just something about the way he said it, steadfast, without any hesitation.

“It does make you sound a bit mean,” you tell him.

“I’m just not interested in her.”

“I don’t want to hold up the Minho train if there are other options out there that you want to explore.”

Do you mean it? Yes and no. Part of you wants to be nosy and prod until he fesses up about a potential love interest in his life - if there even is one - so that you could be a good friend that tell him to just go for it, but your curiosity is eclipsed by your selfishness, because you realize that you don’t really want to know if it means the end of this.

Are you being a hypocrite?

Yeah, probably.

He bites his bottom lip as if in thought, just briefly, before he rolls over to lie on his back, staring up at your boring ceiling. “I told you, I don’t care. I’m not interested in any other girl,” he says.

Realistically, you know there will be a finale. It’s only inevitable. One day, he’ll get a girlfriend, or you’ll get a boyfriend - the former seems more likely than the latter - and this arrangement between the two of you will have run its course. Null and void.

It’s part of the reason why you never let yourself relish in him, because you will only be thoroughly disappointed when he gets taken away from you.

As if he’s ever been yours to begin with.

You’ve never belonged to him either.

Neither of you owes the other anything at all.

You blink away the dazed look in your eyes, humming a noncommittal noise in irresolute agreement, before reaching for your phone to check the time. It’s not that late, half an hour shy of midnight, and his place isn’t that long a walk from yours. You know full well that it isn’t much of an excuse, and yet…

“It’s late.”

“Can’t I stay over?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’ll be good. I’ll just sleep next to you.”

“No can do,” you say. “I have a class at 10AM.”

“Me too. I can walk you to campus,” he insists.

There’s something unspoken in his gaze that you can sense but can’t translate. It’s been happening more often lately - you not being able to read him as easily as you could before. You have to admit that it makes you a little unsettled. The unknown that swims in the dark sepia of his eyes.

But maybe you’re overthinking this. Maybe you’re making something out of absolutely nothing.

“Go home, Minho,” you decide, leaving him no room to protest. The instant kicked puppy look on his face makes you feel a little bad, thus prompting you to continue, “I’ll try to see you on campus, okay?”

He looks at you for another moment before he sits up unwillingly. It seems like he has something else to say - something other than a butthurt comment about being bored out of his mind over the next few days - but in the end, he gives up. You notice the way his shoulders slightly slump as he exhales, “Okay.”

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 27.11.2023]