#leaving that to someone else to elaborate on

[hellyrossum]

the more i think about devon this season, the more i'm seeing parallels between her and mark.

with ricken's new partnership with lumon, devon is seeing this person she loves (loved?) betray all the principles he claimed to hold. he's not the person she thought he was. (like a body snatcher has taken his place.)

and we all want her to get the hell out of there, but she appears to be financially dependent on him, and, having given birth like a month ago. there's this other person in the equation now that she's responsible for. (in another show, mark quitting his severed job would have been the resolution of his arc, the proof that he's ready to face his grief. except, pre-reintegration, that choice isn't so simple. there's another person in the equation now, that he made, that he's responsible for.)

we've also seen how, despite devon's cynical edge and mark's asshole tendencies (often directed at her specifically), she's never given up on her brother. based on that, i think, for all she's frustrated with ricken right now, she probably still wants to believe in the version of him she fell in love with, to hold out in case he returns (to see if she can bring him back).

devon told mark to stay at lumon this season because the person he fell in love with was maybe still there, and if she is, they need to save her.

that past version of ricken (whether he was ever real or just an illusion), and eleanor. those are her gemma. what's keeping devon trapped.

[capricornlevi]

Gojo with his s/o who went missing for MONTHS, but comes backs somehow?

(Bonus: he thought that s/o was dead ;-;)

ten years previously

"Promise me you won't be too mad when I die."

Satoru furrows his brow when he hears you, tilting his head to the side to look at you funny.

You're both sprawled out on the grass, lying flat on your backs and gazing at the blue skies shining over Jujutsu Tech. Outside the school grounds, mountains line the perimeter like battlements, but you don't feel locked away. You feel at peace with everything: your choices, your circumstances, the company you've kept. The warm summer air wraps around you like an embrace.

What once seemed so alien to you, so frightening, is now your reality. It doesn't scare you as much anymore.

You're shoulder-to-shoulder with Satoru, laying about on the soft grass, not caring if your uniform gets wrinkled as you roll over to your side, propping your head against your elbow and meeting his gaze.

You've both ditched Yaga's class to hang out in the training field, and the sounds of the second-years laughing from the nearby dorms are the only noises you can hear apart from the distant chirping of birds.

That is, until Satoru objects indignantly:

"What are you talking about?"

You smile, not wanting to spoil the otherwise peaceful day. You hadn't brought it up to be negative, but it had to be said; if you don't do it now, you'll never get the courage to do so.

"You know what I mean. You are my best friend in the entire world, and you know that I am not going to last as long out there as you will -- on missions, fighting."

Somewhat irritated, Satoru reaches a hand up to flick you on the nose. You swat him away, laughing, which makes him crack a smile.

"Our last day before graduation, and you want to focus on this morbid shit?" he asks, his tone light and jokey but with an undertone of seriousness that only you ever recognise.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not planning on giving up," you elaborate, distractedly picking a nearby daisy. You don't touch the petals, twirling it by its stem so that it spins in your fingers. "I'll give it my all for as long as I can, but I'm just saying ... don't expect me to be fighting by your side when you're one of the ninety-year-old elders."

"If I turn out like them, then I'll need you around so you can shoot me."

You make a sound that's half-scoff, half-laugh. "I'm being serious."

"So am I," he says, eyes fixed on yours. "Completely serious. You've excelled at every test. We couldn't have won the goodwill event without you. You've completed dozens of missions by now, missions that even I found tricky. What's bringing this on now?"

You shrug, still peering down at the flower in between your thumb and index finger. "Just a feeling, I guess."

"A feeling?"

You hum in the affirmative, and Satoru sighs.

"Want to know my reply, then?" he retorts, still quite serious.

Your head snaps back up at that.

Satoru sits up, cross-legged, scanning your face as though he's committing it to memory. Then, he carefully plucks the daisy from your hand and tucks it behind your ear.

"If you die, I'll be well and truly pissed."

---

The only part of that mission that Satoru really, truly recollects, the only crystal-clear memory in an otherwise blurry mess, was the feeling of Yaga's hand on his shoulder when he arrived at the gates of Jujutsu Tech.

Alone. He arrived back alone, for the first time ever. Three years after graduation and he'd never even had a close call, much less return in this state, and without you.

The whole experience felt so strange, for lack of better word. It felt like it was happening to someone else.

He had explained what had happened, the words leaving his mouth without much thought on his part. His voice sounded cold, detached, unrecognisable.

"And it took her," is how he finished speaking, he's pretty sure. Again, the details are hazy. He doesn't think that he bothered telling Yaga that he tried everything he could out there. That he pushed himself until he nearly broke. That he tried, at the end, to put himself in the curse's reach, to step into harm's way if it meant you got even five minutes more in this world.

Yaga already knows all that.

Thankfully, his former teacher doesn't waste time with empty words of condolence. He just rests a hand on Satoru's shoulder, the gesture doing more than any speech could.

It's not enough, though. Nothing ever would be.

---

Satoru prides himself on compartmentalisation. He has to do it to survive, he'll drown otherwise, and luckily, he's quite good at it. When Yuji asks him if he's ever lost someone to a curse, eyes wide with concern, he's able to wave off the boy's worries. He says yes, sadly, he's lost people, but that it's part of life, and that the only way to deal with it is to get stronger.

He doesn't sugarcoat it, but Yuji wasn't expecting him to. The boy just nods and continues his training. Satoru, meanwhile, resumes his meandering around the classroom, whistling along to some song that's been stuck in his head.

The only person you can control is yourself. Everything else just ... happens.

That's the closest thing he has to a personal philosophy, and it's a pretty foolproof one, having gotten him through some of the bleakest, emptiest years of his life.

He's done well for himself, considering. He's not as brash and impulsive as he was when he was younger. He's dedicated his life to preparing young sorcerers for the world out there, trying to keep them safe as long as he can. He lives a comfortable life and keeps himself entertained but focused, constantly motivated to keep moving forward.

Truthfully, the only time his worldview comes close to being threatened is when he sees a patch of daisies growing in the grass.

Whether out walking through the school grounds, or on a mission in the countryside, or on a faculty trip to the botanic gardens in the city, he's struck by them every so often. He tries to avert his eyes when he glimpses the tell-tale flash of yellow and white petals, but it's no use.

He doesn't break down. He doesn't even cry, not since that first night. He just feels the sensation creep up his chest, gripping his throat like a vice. It burns, sometimes, like someone's actually there choking him. When he breathes, it's more like a gasp for air.

That's why he's built that philosophy, see, because those moments, those flashes of emotion, are more painful than anything he's felt in his life. If that's even one percent of what the feeling must be like in its entirety, then it's best kept buried. To unleash it is to unravel, to be at the mercy of the world.

And the only thing he can control is himself.

---

This is the final night of a five-day-long exchange trip to Kyoto, and the students have earned some rest time. Satoru doesn't object to the girl's request, letting her leave to explore the souvenir store while Yuji and Megumi pick up their crepes from some touristy café down the street.

present day

"Gojo-sensei, can I pick up something from that store before we head back?" Nobara asks, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "I won't be long."

Satoru hangs around as people mill past, hands in his pockets. The air is thick with heat and the smell of baked goods from nearby bakeries. Though it's well into the evening hours, the sun shows no sign of setting.

With nothing better to do, he resigns himself to people-watching. The fact that he's a head or so taller than most passers-by means he sees everything.

He spots an ageing businessman scolding his teenage son, gesturing furiously at a folded piece of paper -- a school report, maybe -- as the boy looks down at his feet while walking alongside him.

An elderly couple walking hand-in-hand.

Two friends bickering over summer holiday plans.

A group of ten or so tourists, trailing hopelessly behind their guide who is striding along the thoroughfare without looking back.

But then, suddenly, all the faces in the crowd blur into obscurity.

Noises cut off instantaneously.

He hears nothing, feels nothing.

For a moment, Satoru swears that time pauses, everyone suspended in freeze-frame while his brain tries to catch up with what he's seeing.

Who he's seeing.

You.

You're wearing sunglasses. You're dressed differently. You're a few years older than the last time he saw you, which only adds to his hope.

Even with these changes, he knows it's you. He'd know it was you even if he were surrounded by a million other faces.

His legs move before he can process anything else.

It doesn't take him long to catch up to you. As he reaches out to touch your shoulder, understandably, you jolt with surprise at the unexpected contact. Turning around to face him, you remove your headphones and relax a little when you realise that he's not a salesperson or pickpocket.

You push your sunglasses up to rest on your forehead, smiling politely.

Satoru waits. His eyes bore into yours, waiting for that sign of recognition, that epiphany to hit you when you realise that he's finally found you.

Nothing comes.

"Can I help you?" you ask, your tone amiable, if a little confused.

Satoru blinks slowly.

"What's your name?" he asks in response, though he knows it.

You respond with that same name he's had at the tip of his tongue all these years, but never let himself speak it aloud.

He doesn't give his own, suddenly unable to say that, either.

"Where did you go to school?" he queries finally, almost pleadingly.

Even more puzzled, you still try to maintain that aura of politeness. "In Tokyo. Why?" You hesitate, and he's just about to let himself breathe again before you exclaim;

"Oh! Did we have a class together?"

Satoru feels a crushing weight settle over him. Cold, unyielding dread floods his veins.

Panic.

He isn't dead, is he?

No. This can't be the afterlife, this can't be your reunion, because he can't imagine that a supposed paradise would be so cruel as to make you a stranger to him.

You, on the other hand, interpret his silence as answering your question.

"I'm so sorry, that's so rude of me!" you apologise, grimacing with embarrassment. "I really don't remember much from back then, I promise. I'm terrible with names. I'm sure you were lovely!"

Only then does Satoru notice something else: the change to your cursed energy, the way it barely registers as anything at all. It hangs over you like a rainy mist, grey and lifeless, completely different to the bright effervescence that used to follow you everywhere.

He realises a thousand things at once.

That curse, that creature that took you, didn't kill you. He's heard of this only a few times before, but what you encountered was a parasitic spirit, one that sustains its pathetic existence through the cursed energy of powerful sorcerers. They do this because of the potency of a sorcerer's energy, like an untapped well, particularly from someone as high-ranking as you were.

To achieve this, it has placed some amnesiac over you to stifle your abilities to fight back.

That ... thing, that spirit, that parasite, likely returns every so often to feed, and with it goes all memories of your life beforehand.

Satoru's first feeling upon this realisation is guilt. A strange feeling, but one he can't deny, because even though he understands what happened to you, you're none the wiser.

You're still standing there, groceries in hand, as the warm summer breeze washes over you both.

You're waiting for him to speak.

He doesn't. He can't.

"Well, it was lovely meeting you again!" you pipe up cordially, pushing your sunglasses back into place with a flick of your finger. You turn around and call out over your shoulder, "I'm sure I'll see you around!"

Satoru stays there, frozen, and makes a decision there and then.

A new philosophy. A new promise.

He is going to do whatever he can to give you back your life.

You can do whatever you want with it -- maybe you won't forgive him for not saving you, maybe you'll carry on with this existence in Kyoto, maybe you'll go back to sorcery and pretend this never happened.

But it's your choice. The least he can do is ensure you get the chance the make it.

---

"You know it doesn't always work out the way you want it to," Shoko says with more sympathy than he's ever heard from her before. She stands with her back to the stone wall, looking at him sadly. The school buildings loom behind them both, everyone inside asleep. It's so quiet out here that it feels almost unnatural, foreboding.

Satoru has spent months working on this mission, forsaking all other tasks in preparation to exorcise this curse that's robbed you of so much. Tonight, with hours before he leaves for Kyoto, he is asking Shoko his only remaining question.

He's already worked out when the spirit is likely to return to feed. He's figured out a plan to kill it. He is even certain that he can do all of this while keeping you out of further harm's way.

There's really only one question that he has left for his friend, and that is what might happen afterwards.

She's never seen something like this before, she warned him, only ever heard about it from others. It's all word of mouth, no medical texts or written histories. And it's most definitely not a given that all of your memories will return. You'll be lucky if you regain any of the cursed energy you've lost.

That's enough, he figures, to give you a fighting chance. If he was in this position, he'd want the same to be done for him.

"I know," he finally answers Shoko, watching as she exhales from her cigarette into the dark night air. "But it's not just about what I want."

"You can live with it?" she asks with a quiet concern. "With being a stranger, maybe forever?"

He doesn't have to think over his reply.

"I can live with it."

Shoko nods. She puts out her cigarette against the wall, flicks it away, and they head back inside.

---

As strong as he knows he is, Satoru is surprised yet again by the strength of that spirit, how desperately it wants to keep draining life from others.

It's a messy fight. The creature recognises him, almost gleeful at his arrival. It glances up at your apartment overhead, with you sleeping inside, completely unaware of their presence on the street below. Then, the curse looks back at Satoru with a grin that fills him with a fury that burns a hole in his chest.

He is filled with a sensation that feels alien to him, completely unfamiliar, an all-encompassing feeling that he can't attempt to put into words.

As he strikes the curse over and over and over, watching as the hits land, watching it get gravely wounded, none of it does anything to alleviate that feeling.

He kills it, eventually. It dies somewhat pitifully in a puddle of its own cursed energy, spitting out angry hisses until it grows quiet.

Nothing changes then. Satoru feels no shift in the air, no disturbance. He's shielded from civilians so he expected a degree of quietness, but he hears nothing, absolutely nothing, not even the rain falling around him.

Everything else is still.

He feels exhausted in every way. Physically, emotionally, he's spent, having unleashed not only his rage on that spirit, but every iota of pain and fear he's been slowly amassing since their first encounter, since it tore you away and left him untethered.

That feeling is not gone, though. He's not sure it ever will be. But he's identified it, and somehow, that does something to soothe him.

Then, the quietness is interrupted by the sound of a window opening a few floors above.

He glances up in time to see you shout down at him.

"Satoru!"

He closes his eyes. The sound of his own name pours down on him like sunlight.

He feels it all; the recognition in your voice, the relief.

By the time he opens his eyes again, you're down on the street in your pyjamas and slippers, throwing yourself into his arms.

He wraps them around you as tight as he can without causing you any pain, lifting you up and keeping you so close to his chest that you can hear his heart beating.

He can feel your tears seep into the fabric of his shirt and rests a hand on the back of your head, desperate to carry out any gesture to bring you comfort.

You kiss him, then. You kiss his lips, his face, his neck, you cup his face in your hands and feel him lean into the touch.

Eventually, after a perfect eternity in this embrace, you pull apart.

"Were you pissed?" you ask, laughing as you say the words, tear lines still streaking your face but your eyes bright and full of life. "Back then, you said you would be."

"Yes, but not at you," he answers with a smile, and that makes you cry again, good tears, proud tears.

It will take a while for things to get back to normal, he knows that. There's still a lot he can't control. But if he hadn't tried, if he had given up and surrendered to circumstance, you wouldn't be here in front of him, smiling, glowing, looking up at him with beautiful recognition.

That's enough for a new philosophy.

[106alibi]

good graces ; use me

w.c: ~1.1k (I TRIED TO CUT WORDS ALREADY IM SORRRRYYYYY)

note: text portion at the bottom!

the drive back to your condominium was silent, with the rumble of the engine and the tapping of jeno’s fingers against the wheel the only sounds filling the air.

jeno wasn't stupid. he could tell something was up, especially when you, the one who invited him to the party, suddenly requested to leave early without an explanation. though curiosity was eating him up on the inside, he held his lips tight and stepped on the pedal.

the car rolled slowly into the lot, coming to a halt once the back tires hit the wheel stop. he unbuckled his seat belt, stealing glances at you in an attempt to read you, but all you did was stare straight ahead, your eyes in a daze and your mind clearly anywhere but the car the two of you were in. you were only snapped out of your thoughts when your seat belt had come undone with a click. you looked up at jeno, who had undone your seat belt for you and was now propping his weight off the frame of the door with one arm, the other hand outstretched.

you looked up at his outstretched palm and the sweet smile that hung on his crescent eyes. he doesn’t deserve this. you took his palm in yours and exited the vehicle.

the elevator arrived at the top floor of the condominium with a ‘ding’. jeno gestured for you to enter the unit, his hands shoved into his pockets as his hair fell just above his pretty eyes. you stared at his face, preparing yourself for what's about to come. he cocked an eyebrow at your lack of movement.

“do you want to come in?”

you kicked off your shoes at the entrance and brisk-walked to your couch, plopping down on it, sending a signal to jeno that he should follow suit. you chewed on your bottom lip as you watched him make his way to the couch, wondering how you should bring up the issue.

“hey! I don't actually like you! I've been using you to get back at my ex-boyfriend this entire time!”

no. you thought that perhaps you should start from the beginning.

“you know the guy we bumped into earlier?”

“oh, your friend jake?”

you visibly cringed at the word ‘friend’.

“he isn't actually my friend. he's my ex.”

if jeno was shocked, he didn't show it. his kind eyes and silence only prompted you to elaborate further.

but you found the words lodged in your throat as you tried to recall why and when jake had became an ex. it was just so…humiliating. to have to admit to someone else that your own boyfriend left you for another girl; that you weren't good enough, pretty enough, understanding enough. and that above all, you weren’t smart enough to have picked up on all the clues he had laid out perfectly for you. you swallowed thickly.

“he…cheated on me. with that girl, natty."

you lowered your eyes to the rings in your fingers, trying to blink away the layer of sheen and silently wishing that jeno wouldn't notice the hurt that glazed over your eyes. jeno’s warm hand engulfed your cold fingers gingerly as he took it into his own lap and scooted closer to you.

“you don't have to say anything. I'll be here until you feel better.”

you almost scoffed. not at him, but at the situation. here jeno was, naively rubbing comforting circles in the back of your hand with his thumb trying to comfort you, thinking you were someone worth comforting, not knowing that he had been a victim this whole time of your stupid revenge plan.

you liked jeno, you really did. he was a great friend, easy to talk to, always kind to you. eventually, he made you forget that you were just use him.

but a moment’s forgetfulness didn't excuse the fact that you did, that you were that low, that pathetic.

sure, confirming that jake never really loved you was a stab to the chest, but for some reason, knowing that you were about to hurt jeno pushed the knife deeper.

you pulled your hand away from jeno’s grasp and willed yourself to look him in the eye, your heart turning to mush as a pout unknowingly formed on his lips. you took a deep breath.

“i wanted to get back at jake. i wanted him to know that i could pull someone better than him. someone better than him in his eyes. and, if he didn’t tell you earlier, you’re his favourite boxer.”

you watched as jeno’s eyebrows knitted, trying to piece everything together.

“i’m sorry, i….” you squeaked out, the hot tears breaking the dam of your lash line. you covered your face with your free hand, not wanting jeno to see the state you were in as you willed your lungs to push out the last of your confession.

“i was using you.” your voice shook. you bit your lips shut, feeling undeserving of the sob that threatened to escape your throat.

“i was using you to make jake jealous, but guess what? it didn’t even work.” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling even if you wanted to. “i’m so sorry, jeno. for leading you on.” your heart squeezed at your own outburst. your palm soaked in your own salty tears to not only prevent jeno from seeing you in such a pathetic state, but to shield yourself from his reaction too.

this was the end. this would be the end of your revenge plan, a plan that shouldn't have been born in the first place. this would be the end of your relationship with jeno.

“just…let me ask you something.”

you pursed your lips and nodded for him to go on.

“when you were with me," you heard him gulp, "were you happy? genuinely?”

you didn't have to think twice. you nodded vigorously, still hiding behind your hand as you sniffled loudly, not wanting to see the hurt in jeno’s eyes.

a warm arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you in, and suddenly you found your head resting on jeno’s shoulder. he made gentle, large strokes down your back, the other arm wrapped firmly around your waist as he rested his cheek on the top of your head. you bunched his blazer between your fingers, your knuckles turning white as you sobbed into his shoulder.

you wanted jeno to hate you. he should have. so why in the world was lee jeno comforting you right now, when you were the one who hurt him?

jeno gently pulled you away to look at your damp cheeks once you had calmed down a little, wiping away the stray tears with his thumb as his palm cupped the flesh of your cheeks warmly.

“i'll allow it.”

his voice came out as a whisper in the cold air, a soft laugh following as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, a touch as light as feather.

"what?" you blinked through blurry eyes.

“if it makes you happy, then use me.”

because at this point, jeno had fallen too deep to lose you.

prev. | m.list | next

a/n: I can point out 39372928 things that are wrong with how things are unfolding but I'll keep my mouth zipped if not I'll spiral and start to hate everything

taglist: @yutarot @rksbae @sevn97 @dreamiestay @raevyng @catpjimin @mrsjohnnysuh @xiuriii @minkyuncutie @jaehyunsjasmine @cookiehaos @jenoleeaesthetic @tynlvr @ohwowzersthatscool @rubiiisyeon @multifandomania @natokkiz @veilico @jeonghansshitester @jkslvsnella @jungaji @xyzsiissnnsnsjs @17ericas @elsbunny @grassbutneo @nosungluv @flamingi @xxxx-23nct @baobeii55 @shoetaroshoe @tannieflix @myballsareitchy2 @doyotint @mood-nyvy @hyuoonp @joyzluvr @livingdoll-hara @hyuck-me @zzurao @luvandletter @jae-n0 @stqrgr7 @dudekiss3r @ksywoo @kodasity @jirsungs @hibernatinghamster @blamingontheboogie @neozon3nha @catdonut657

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

If You Need Me, Dear, I’m the Same as I Was | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Chubby Reader

✦ word count — 8.5k

✦ request — may I request Ex Older Damian Wayne x Chubby Reader! Where the reader goes to a charity ball that her friend wanted her to go with since her friend and their family are rich and do this every year. And right when the host of the ball were thanking everyone for coming and stuff they mentioned the top person who donated the most and that being Damian. With Damian going up the stage to make a small speech, his gaze caught the reader. Making him stammer before he continued. I guess somewhere along the lines of him finishing a girl comes up and hugs him or something which send the reader running to the change room (cuz they super fancy lol) and unaware to the reader, Damian came after her. Locking the door behind him and resolving old issue they might have and maybe couldn’t have in the past. Maybe it being Robins leaving to a long mission and him not telling her about that yet. And then making up. It could be them coming out of the dressing room and being under the mistletoe or if you are allowing spicy scenes then that.

✦ warnings — nsfw, exes to lovers, angst, melancholy, hints of jealousy, hints of possessiveness, smut, hand job, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, protected sex, mentions of food, fluff.

════════════════════════

Hearing his name stung. He was the top donor of the night, on behalf of the Wayne family. Damian thanked the host and stood at the podium, scanning the room as he made a speech. Since when did he make speeches?

Your eyes met for a moment. He hesitated, borderline stumbling through his words, but he recovered quickly. He finished his speech with his gaze upward, on the chandelier.

You couldn’t help but follow him with your eyes as he walked down the podium, and immediately wished you hadn’t. A woman threw her arms around his shoulders. He rested a hand on her upper back. You wanted to vomit.

Making your way through the crowd, you followed the path to the changing room. Away from the noise, you heard your elaborate breath just before your ears started ringing.

You took deep breaths. You couldn’t ruin Nova’s perfect job with your makeup for a man who didn’t know what he wanted. Besides, you vowed not to cry over him anymore; the mourning phase was supposed to be over. Clearly.

You stood in front of the full-body, ornate, gold mirror to the right of the vanity. Your reflection assured you that you hadn’t somehow ruined your brand-new velvet dress. Leaning onto the vanity where small ornate mirrors matched, you confirmed your makeup hadn’t moved an inch.

Bringing a hand up to your head, you rearranged your hair a little bit, fiddling with it to fully calm yourself.

“You look stunning.”

Your head whirled to the left upon hearing Damian’s voice. His eyes were on you, but yours were on the closed door behind him.

“What do you want?” The question came out clear, smoothly. You were proud of yourself.

“You.”

How dare he say such a thing months after not fighting for you? On a night he brought someone else as a date to the charity ball he must have known you would attend because Nova’s family always did.

“Hard to believe.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“You are so considerate, aren’t you?”

Damian sighed; gaze unwavering. “This is my attempt at making things right.”

“Five months later.”

“You didn’t want to hear me out before.”

“I don’t think I want to hear you out right now either,” you admitted. You hated the way your voice softened, the fact that he still had some power over the way you felt. “There’s not much you can say that will make it right, Damian. I thought you were smart enough to realize that.”

He stood there for a moment, only gazing at you in silence. You wished he would just turn around and leave, but deep down, you knew it wasn’t his style. Everything that happened, the way the relationship ended, hurt more precisely because you knew him well. He was stubborn, somewhat entitled, and he always got what he wanted one way or another; he wasn’t one for giving up on something at the first hurdle. And yet you hadn’t seen him in five months.

Begging might not have been part of his vocabulary, but you never wanted him to beg. You had wanted him to be honest, to stop hiding things from you. And he couldn’t, he didn’t have it in him to fight for you.

The silence between you stretched, shrinking the room as you stood mere feet away from each other. The chasm between you expanded. You were almost certain he would leave at any moment, perhaps find some sick satisfaction in ruining your night.

Damian’s body twitched forward, as if he were to take a step. He didn’t. Instead, he broke the silence, voice steady, “There’s something I never told you.”

You gazed at him. Fully this time, past the cold demeanor you were trying to feign and past his tense shoulders. “Do I even want to know?”

You needed him to look at you in the eyes and tell you this wouldn’t break your heart all over again.

As if he knew that, and perhaps he did, he added, “It’s not what you are thinking.”

“Okay,” you breathed out. “Talk.”

This time, he stepped forward and walked toward the beige sofa behind the vanity. You watched him through the mirror as he unbuttoned his blazer and sat down. Damian beckoned you to sit with him, patting the empty space beside him.

Despite yourself and all the things you had promised your friends —that you didn’t care anymore, and that you wouldn’t hear him out even if he begged—, you approached. You sat flush against the arm of the camelback sofa, leaving enough space between you. He seemed to take offense yet didn’t dare complain.

“When Alfred told you I was out of the country…” he began, palms flat against his thighs as he looked at you, “he assumed you were aware beforehand. I discussed telling you what I am about to tell you with the family, and they all agreed it would be for the best. My father even suggested it might strengthen our relationship.”

He didn’t let you ask any questions as he continued, “I didn’t have time to tell you. Something came up, I had to leave quickly, and it didn’t occur to me that I wouldn’t be able to contact you once I had taken care of…” he hesitated for a moment, eyes searching your face for any sign of open-mindedness. “It wasn’t supposed to take me a week, and you weren’t supposed to be upset.”

“So you had it all planned? Including how I would feel?” You shook your head in disbelief. He was supposed to make it right, not remind you why you cried for a week straight. “You haven’t even told me why.”

“You know who Batman is.”

You almost laughed at the change of topic. It took guts to derail a conversation he had insisted on starting. “Sure.”

“And Nightwing…”

“Everybody knows we have vigilantes around,” you impatiently reminded him.

He nodded, lifting a hand from his thigh. For a second, as he flexed his fingers, you thought he might place it on your shoulder. His hand stayed in the air, and in any other instance, you would have grabbed it. Damian knew that too. “But no one knows who they are behind the cowl,” he said solemnly.

Your eyes lingered on his hand. “And you do?”

“Yes,” he admitted quietly.

In a way, it made sense. His ancestors basically founded the city, his family probably knew every secret Gotham had ever harbored. Not only that, but Bruce seemed to hold a reverence for Gotham that you had never truly understood but utterly admired.

“That’s cool,” you said, and you meant it. “I just don’t see how—”

Before you could express that vigilantes had nothing to do with your past relationship, Damian blurted, “I’ve been Robin since I met my father.”

“Out of all the things…” His words took a moment to fully register in your brain. You thought you heard him wrong for a split second. “You could be lying right now.”

“Why would I ever lie about this?” he asked. Indignation and hurt laced his voice as he added, “Why would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know.” You turned your head to fully look at him. “It sounds absurd.”

He nodded. He seemed so innocent, looking at you through his long lashes. “I can prove it. I can go as far as to prove where I was that week.”

His words tugged at something inside you, something you liked to pretend wasn’t there anymore. You couldn’t express that, though, you could only stare at him, hoping you would find anything to say. You didn’t.

“I should have told you sooner.”

Yes, he should have. He should have spared you the grief and the countless tears.

And yet you felt like an idiot. How detestable must you have been in his eyes, breaking up with him because he was too busy saving people. “Yes, you should have. I thought…” you trailed off. It wasn’t common for you to not speak your mind around him, to tip-toe around subjects as if he was just any other person. In a whisper, you admitted, “I thought I had done something wrong.”

Damian finally rested his hand on your shoulder, dragging it along your shoulder blades until his arm was around you. “You didn’t do anything wrong, habibti.”

This was cruel. He was so close and so warm. After what you could only describe as an eternal winter that wasn’t even close to being over, after the torturous entirety of what should have been the perfect autumn.

“Were you really going to tell me?”

“I was. And I am not just saying it to appease you.” He knew you so well. Damian drew in a deep breath. His voice became airy, tone lower, “I thought I would never see you again.”

Oh, how much you had missed his voice. “So did I.”

You were supposed to forget about him, to only see him again on TV solely by mistake on a rainy afternoon while visiting your parents.

“You thought? Or were you hoping?”

“I… I don’t know.”

He grumbled.

Shifting to look at him properly, you found yourself at a loss for words. You understood he didn’t want to hear that; you would hate it if it came from him. You just didn’t know if you should apologize for being honest.

“I suppose I would feel the same if the roles were reversed,” he mumbled.

“I wish you had told me,” you admitted in a whisper. It would have saved you many tearful nights and bitter days. And maybe heartbreak as a whole too.

“I was going to.”

“I believe you.”

He cupped your face in his free hand, making you look into his eyes. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

“I have missed you,” he said gently.

“I’ve missed you too.” For a moment, you debated whether to add anything else, but you couldn’t help yourself and elaborated, “It took a lot not to return your calls.”

You hadn’t even dared to block him, pretending you were being the bigger person by simply ignoring his messages and calls, when in reality your heart skipped a beat every single time his name appeared on your screen.

“I wish you had.”

“Would you have told me?”

“Not on the phone.”

You were busy the first few times he called, packing stuff and eventually moving. It had been a good excuse at first, a genuine distraction. Eventually, you had to talk yourself into ignoring his calls, ashamed to admit you wanted him to chase after you, to show that he cared.

In those moments, you had wanted him to feel like you did when he didn’t answer, when you found out he was in another continent because his butler-grandfather figure let it slip when you called in panic.

Now you wondered if Alfred told him how worried you had been, or how quickly you ended the call once his whereabouts were revealed. You cried so much that day. It had already been awful, and you needed Damian. You had wanted nothing more than his soothing voice to tell you everything would be ‘fine’ as he often remarked.

Perhaps you still did.

“I can almost hear you think.”

You huffed half a laugh. He and his need to know everything. “It’s what people do when they are quiet.”

“Is it?” He kinked an eyebrow. “What was I thinking about, then?”

“Knowing you, nothing easy to understand.”

He laughed, shaking his head. You had almost forgotten the melody of that sound. “Wrong.”

“Really?” Your voice carried amusement. It felt like a conversation from simpler times. “Care to share?”

You hated that your eyes zeroed on his lips the moment he started talking, not processing his words; in fact, barely registering he was speaking. You would have embarrassed yourself by only staring if his voice hadn’t once been your favorite sound.

He smiled as he continued speaking. Whatever he was talking about, was as irrelevant to him as it was to you.

His thumb caressed your skin. You hummed, almost like a spoiled cat, and felt yourself lean into his touch before you could realize what you were doing.

“May I kiss you?”

You should have said no, maybe make him work for it a little. But you didn’t want to. His lips were so pink, still so pouty and inviting.

Through a breath intake, you said, “Yes.”

He softly pressed his lips to yours, bringing his arm upward to curl around your neck so he could pull you closer. He kissed you slowly at first, gave you a chance to back out; you could change your mind at any second, it was safe to do so around him. It made you want to kiss him even harder.

Your bottom lip got caught between his pillowy ones, and things clicked like they always had with Damian. You rested your hand on the back of his head, mindful of not ruining his hair.

Damian’s tongue broke through your lips in no time. He removed his arm from your shoulders and snaked it around your middle, bringing his other hand down to your thick waist to guide you into a better position. He hummed on your mouth, kissing you deeper as he held you tight.

You briefly wondered why you had even tried to find somebody else. Not only had they been inadequate at an emotional level, but they couldn’t make you feel like floating with just a kiss like Damian did.

He dragged his lips away from yours, to your jaw first. His hand traveled upward to hold your chin up, and he attached his lips to your neck. You slipped your fingers into his hair, sighing. He smiled against your skin — he had you where he wanted.

In an act of mercy, he didn’t comment on it. He busied himself with covering your neck in kisses. He trailed down, mouth slightly open when it reached the uncovered portion of your cleavage.

You gently pushed him off you. His elaborated breath matched yours. “Not here,” you panted.

“Yeah,” he rasped, “you’re right.”

You stared at each other for a prolonged moment. He kissed you again, briefly, sweetly.

Finding yourself at the vanity once more, you fixed your makeup and re-applied lipstick. Damian stood behind you, hands on your waist, chin on your shoulder.

He ran his palms up and down your velvet gown, reaching your hips before going back up to your waist, and starting over once more.

“What are you doing?”

“Touching you.” His breath tickled your cheek.

“Maybe you should stop.”

“Maybe?” he repeated, incapable of not teasing you.

“Definitely.”

He pressed his body flush to yours, curling an arm around you. The strength of his grip and the weight of his body on your back were oh so familiar.

“Most people must be gone by now,” he said, as if he knew you only needed a little push to be persuaded.

But you couldn’t do that to Nova. “Even worse. What will the few left think when I leave this room with you?”

“That I won tonight. Without competition.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere right now.”

“As long as you don't run away again.”

“Oh, my.” You didn’t think he would notice; much less assume you had run away. “And what will your date think?”

“Emiko isn't my date. Only a friend.” His lips grazed your neck. “She’s Wally’s girlfriend. Remember him?”

You hummed. You remembered sweet and funny Wally. “Well, my date might be looking for me.”

He tensed, taking handfuls of you. “Don't call her that.”

“Why not?”

“You know the implication.” The pout was evident in his voice.

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. Damian didn't find it as amusing as you did.

“Go tell her I'm taking you home.”

You hesitated, wondering if Nova would be angry at you for this. Yet, it was what you wanted, so you decided to face the music either way.

You found your dear friend outside the changing room, sat on a leather loveseat —beige and with gold accents, as everything in the venue was— with Damian's friend. They both stared at you intently.

Damian squeezed your plush hip. “I’ll get your jacket.”

Nova pursed her lips. Emiko lifted both eyebrows. You inhaled, about to explain yourself, when Nova interrupted you, “I knew it would happen sooner or later.”

You felt bad that it had been so obvious to everybody but yourself, that your best friend had to put up with your crying and complaining, with your meaningless vows, just for you to fold so easily.

“As long as you're happy… I’m cool with it,” she assured you.

Emiko hadn't taken her eyes off you, as if analyzing you. Her blueish hair was down, contrary to the intricate updo she had donned when Damian made his speech.

“Everyone knew you would give in,” Nova admitted.

“That doesn't make me feel any better.”

“But it’ll make everybody else feel better,” Emiko said in almost an assuring tone. Her voice was sharp, but not devoid of warmth. “He’ll finally shut up about you and let us live.”

Nova giggled and gave you a look that told you it would be the same for your friend group. Somewhat unfair when you didn’t talk that much about him anymore, only when you were in a bad mood, but you understood her point of view.

Damian already had his coat on as he re-joined you, holding your jacket so you would slip your arms in. You did so, avoiding Nova’s and Emiko’s eyes.

“Ready to leave?” he asked.

You nodded. “But Emiko…”

“She can get home by herself,” he said softly, in more of a show of trust in his friend than in attempts to avoid taking her anywhere.

“I can,” Emiko said firmly, “don’t worry about me.”

“She can leave with me,” Nova suggested. “Night’s still young.”

“Don’t get yourselves into too much trouble,” Damian warned. You didn’t know if he was joking or worried. Maybe both.

Nova glared at him jokingly. “You get her home safely, or I swear to God…”

“Yeah, I’ll kick your a—"

“I get it!” Damian interrupted Emiko, then told her, “And you are supposed to be on my side.”

Emiko rolled her eyes. “Just go.”

Damian rested his hand on your lower back, gently nudging you toward the exit. Cold air hit your face, as if you needed any reminder of just how long winter was running. He fully wrapped his arm around you, physically shielding you from the cold.

Once in his car, he did a double take to make sure you had your seatbelt on and handed you his phone in case you wanted to play some music. Just like he always had done.

Those were the things you missed the most about him, the way he took care of you as if out of instinct, how easily he made you part of his life and imprinted every single aspect of yours. You second-guessed everything when you broke up with him, convinced yourself not a single thing about your relationship had been real.

It now sounded unfair, not only because you knew the truth, but mostly because you had been friends once. Or as close to friends as two people with romantic tension could come to be.

Damian used to take you home when you still lived with your parents, and your only relation to him was a friendship held together by his refusal to get romantically involved with anyone and your hesitance to say anything in case it would make you look uncool.

Your parents loved him. Your mom told you the breakup could only have been your fault, blaming your career choice and the way you dressed. According to your father, you scared Damian off with your eagerness to eat the world, so much so that he claimed you should slow down so it wouldn't happen again with somebody else.

Although you didn't pay their words any mind, you couldn't shake the feeling that they were more a reflection of how they saw their own relationship. They would probably divorce soon or simply grow to hate each other. They didn’t seem to have much in common apart from having raised you and your sister.

Your sister agreed they weren’t good for each other anymore, but the fallout wouldn’t touch her. She moved to Colorado because of her partner, and her love for them was stronger than her hatred of the dry climate.

"I moved," you blurted out, suddenly scared he would take the old way, the short one, the one that led to a house that was never a home.

"I heard." A couple seconds later, he clarified, "I saw the photos on social media. The ones Melissa posted."

You held a decorating get-together when you moved. Friends had come and gone throughout the day, helping with different things. You ended up changing most of those things eventually, but you weren’t alone that day, and that was all that mattered.

Neither of you said it, but both of you knew it should have been Damian hanging artwork in your living room and talking you out of hot pink wallpaper for the bedroom.

You gave him the address, and when he pulled into the parking area designated for visitors, you expected him to wish you a good night. It didn't make sense, you knew his intentions, and Damian wasn't the type to simply drop you off. Still, you braced yourself for a goodbye that didn't come. Not in the elevator, not in the middle of the hallway, not as you reached apartment 37.

His breath was on your neck, your hand in his. The cold light in the hallway didn’t have time to bother you, and the carpet-less porcelain floor was a mere afterthought as Damian stood flush to your side while you unlocked the door.

His strong cologne filled the living room, masking the air freshener you took so long to pick at the grocery store.

Damian looked around, taking note of the lack of photos as decoration and the empty space near the window. It didn't take him long to set his eyes on you. Extending an arm, you offered to take his coat.

The empty closet welcomed the coat in, and if anybody asked you, it looked full now. You hated thinking such things, hated that he was what your life had been missing. But things clicked, living by yourself wouldn't be so lonely if he stayed the night from time to time, going out with friends would be more fun if you could call him drunk to tell him you love him without worrying that you'd sound pathetic, and the boring job you accepted to shut your parents up would be oh so bearable if you knew you would get to see him at the end of the day even if it was just through a video call.

You grabbed Damian by the face and kissed him, jacket halfway down your arms. His hands immediately settled on your waist; he used his grip as leverage to lean in, slotting his nose against yours.

Contrary to his eagerness from earlier, he kissed you tenderly. Everything slowed down — well, everything but your heartbeat.

You didn't think you would ever get to kiss him again. You had mourned this, his warmth, the sighs he let out every time you played with the short hairs on his nape… being this intimate with him.

“I missed you,” he said against your lips. You didn't get to tell him, again, that you had missed him too; he kissed you harder, squeezing your pliant body as a reminder that he could, that you were there.

Your arms were tight around his neck. It was such a familiar kind of kiss —one of those you would share in your childhood bedroom while your parents were out, or in the tiny kitchen of the apartment you used to share with the roommate you had a fallout with in college—, not too heated, but not chaste enough to be considered innocent.

“Wanna move to the couch?” you asked.

He hummed, slowly moving away from you. Damian sat on the blue couch as if he had done so many times before, watching you take your jacket off and hang it with his coat. You walked toward him, debating whether you should take your heels off already or not.

His hands reached over for you, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you between his legs. You shook your head, trying not to laugh. Lifting his eyebrows, he asked, “What?”

“Nothing.” You ran your fingers along the silky lapels of his suit jacket. “You’re as forward as ever.”

“And you look incredible tonight.”

“It’s a very nice dress.”

“I do have an inclination for the model.”

You let out a tiny laugh, face warm — you were more flattered than abashed, and either way, Damian got the satisfaction of so quickly finding out not much had changed.

Kissing him again, before he could gloat about his —and only his— ability to make you feel special, you felt him slowly trace your sides up and down. His lips moved with yours in sync. You missed kissing him like this, like the world would end if you stopped for whatever reason.

There were many things you would have liked to convey in the kiss. None of them would come close to simply kissing him, though — there would, hopefully, be time to talk things out. You slipped your hands between his suit jacket and his shirt, smoothing the shirt with your palms as Damian slipped his tongue past your lips.

You removed his suit jacket; sure he wouldn't care if it got a crease or two. He was warm, even though you just now realized you hadn’t adjusted the thermostat. Not that you needed to make the room warmer, his hands all over you were enough.

Whichever spell he cast to make the apartment his own by simply stepping inside only intensified as you moved to your bedroom. Lust overpowered his curiosity, and instead of looking around, perhaps making a comment about the floral bedding, he coaxed you onto the bed.

You pulled him on top of you, kissing him once more. Damian didn’t deny you, but his hands didn’t stay put. He couldn’t help but seek some kind of control, touch heavier and rougher as he explored your body. His warm mouth almost swallowed yours, reminding you exactly why you hadn’t been able to replace him.

Softly, you pushed him off, chest heaving up and down as you breathlessly explained, “It’s getting toasty in here.”

Damian dazedly nodded.

You sat up, prompting him to crawl backward and stand up. He insisted on being the one to take your dress off, careful not to ruin it in his eagerness.

With the velvet garment aside, he made a motion to push you back onto the bed, but you reached over to grab the collar of his shirt before he could.

He kept his hands busy by tracing your figure, slowly, eyes up to watch your face as you unbuttoned his shirt.

A scar on his shoulder caught your eye, darker than his skin. It ran from the top of his shoulder to his pec, fading out mere millimeters above his nipple.

His touch faltered as you stared. You opened your mouth, stuttering as you found yourself torn between assuring him there was nothing wrong with it and the desire to ask what had happened.

“Later,” he said, withdrawing his hands from your body so he could fully discard the shirt.

You found more scars as your hands and eyes wandered, and now his preference for semi-clothed sex and dimmed lights made sense.

“Will you tell me about these too?” you dared to ask softly.

He didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes.” He even sounded relieved.

His touch resumed, and soon, the kissing did too. You dragged your hands down his torso where you found tiny scars and fading marks; you followed the pattern of some with the tips of your fingers, just by feel as you kissed.

Damian’s hand traveled up to your chest. He traced the decorative lace of your strapless bra and looked up at you. Something muddied his gaze, but he didn’t utter a single word. He pulled your bra down, freeing your breasts from the black cloth, and settled his hands on them.

You played with the waistband of his trousers, hooking your fingers In one of the loops holding his belt. The air got knocked out of you as Damian’s hot mouth made contact with your breast, derailing your attempts at teasing.

He sucked on your breasts, taking his time with each one, until he took one of your nipples into his mouth. You didn’t get to remind him not to leave marks, and you only had half a mind to thank the universe that winter was in full swing, and you had no reason to show that much skin in general.

Gripping his thigh, you shifted so you could reach properly without pushing him off you. But you still struggled to unbuckle his belt.

“Do you need help?” he asked, adopting a teasing tone.

“You think so?”

Damian huffed a small laugh, then went back to peppering kisses all over your breasts for a moment, just to see your impatient reaction. When you purposefully whined in frustration, he suppressed a smile and stood at the end of your bed to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants.

As he kneeled back on the bed, coming up briefly to kiss your lips once more, he dropped his hands onto your breasts and gently groped them while he peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

Reaching over for his thighs, you found yourself frustrated as you struggled to focus on what you wanted because of his touch and kisses. If he knew he was making things harder for you, and therefore for himself, by not letting you focus on touching him, he didn’t have it in him to complain.

You twisted your body on the bed, trying to find a better angle. Damian stopped for a moment at that, allowing you room to get more comfortable.

Your gazes crossed as you grabbed a pillow to prop your head up. He gazed at you with such intensity that you had to fight a shiver as his blown-wide pupils followed your movements.

Damian held your gaze as your hands found their way to his thighs, fingers brushing the hem of his briefs. It wasn’t your intention to tease him now, or to do anything other than touch him for that matter.

“Can I?” you asked.

He nodded. “You can do whatever you want.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, blood pumping and rushing as you processed the implications of what he said. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, you pushed them as further down as they would go.

Tracing the insides of his thighs, you fought the urge to move too quickly. His eyes never left yours, not as your fingers ghosted the base of his cock, and definitely not when you dared run your thumb along the head.

You gently wrapped your hand around his shaft, grip loose and fingers barely moving as you felt the weight and girth in your grasp. You started stroking him slowly, not once looking away from him. In some ways, it felt like it was the first time you were truly intimate, with the lights on, skin against skin.

He leaned into you, subtly driving his hips forward to get more contact. You tightened your grip around his shaft at that, still stroking him slowly but more firmly now.

His hands trailed down to your torso, stopping momentarily to tenderly pinch your belly. You let out a breathy laugh, prompting him to squeeze you more firmly.

“Keep it slow,” he gently instructed whilst he began to pull down your tights. “I’m going to get you ready.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” you admitted, voice coming out thick.

He pulled down your tights, moving away from your touch to tug on them and slip them off your feet. Throwing the tights onto the floor, Damian kneeled beside you on the bed, resting his hands on your thick thighs, squeezing as much of their flesh as his hands could take.

Your strokes on his cock resumed while he kneaded at your hips. He discarded your panties too. His eyes raked up and down your body, drinking you in as his hands rested on your hips for a moment, fingers digging into different spots on your lower belly, hips, and thighs, hands traveling lower.

He sighed softly as your hand moved a little faster. His own fingers reached your slit, parting your lips and gathering the slick evidence of your arousal. He hummed to himself as his fingers caressed every crevice of your pussy, as if he had never touched you before.

Damian didn’t comment on the fact that you had been right and getting you wet wasn’t needed, and instead pushed your legs further apart with his forearm, fingers still roaming your folds. He looked down, almost entranced, index grazing your clit.

Your breath hitched, your fist closing tighter around his cock by mere reflex. He let out a groan, dragging his fingers down to tease your entrance as you slowly pumped his cock in your fist.

His eyes didn’t leave your pussy as his middle finger entered you slowly, gently exploring, caressing, with no intentions to truly finger you.

Damian used his thumb to trace your inner labia, careful not to approach your clit. He looked almost relaxed, sighing under your touch as your fist massaged his cock, keeping it hard as it started to throb.

And yet he moved away from your grasp.

You watched as he kneeled on the soft rug that framed your bed. He just followed the movement of his fingers with his eyes for a couple seconds, making you sigh partly in arousal and mostly in utter desperation.

He withdrew his hand and leaned forward to lick a long stripe through your folds, bringing his hands to rest on your thighs and keep you from closing your legs. Your breath got caught in your throat, stuttering between a moan and a gasp.

You wanted to remind him that he didn’t have to eat you out, or finger you, that you were more than ready for him to take you. But you didn’t dare, not when doing so would entail admitting out loud that you had yearned for this, that you were perhaps a little desperate to have him inside you again.

Damian moaned as his tongue traced your folds in the same way his fingers had, teasing your clit with only the tip of his tongue until he himself grew impatient and started sucking on it.

“Slow down or I’m gonna—"

He interrupted you by grazing your clit with his teeth, extracting a moan from deep within you. Lifting his head so you could hear him, he explained, “I don’t have condoms on me.”

“There are some on the nightstand if you want.”

His grip on the flesh of your thighs tightened as he rose, staring at you with dark and sharp eyes. He made no other comment, no gesture, as his hands left your thighs and he moved toward the nightstand to open the drawer.

He took the open box of condoms out and dropped it next to your reading lamp once he had taken a foil packet out.

You watched as he tore the foil with his teeth, eyes following the path of his hands as he grasped his cock with one hand and unraveled the condom down his length with the other.

Damian kneeled between your legs. “What do you want?”

“You,” you answered simply. It was obvious.

“Be more specific,” he commanded.

You didn’t know where it was coming from, what made him switch to being more dominant. It was a side of him you had only seen glimpses of, but you weren’t about to complain. At all.

“I want you inside me, Damian.”

One of those, you didn’t know which one, seemed to be the magic word.

He pushed into you, looking up at your face for signs of discomfort. Slowly, he pushed his hips forward, giving you time to adjust to every inch. Once he was fully seated inside you, he came up to hover over you with his forearms at each side of your head.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” You sounded a little too eager for your liking.

He drove his hips backward, then forward, tentative for the first few thrusts. You tried to breathe through your nose, much like he was doing, but you had never learned to control your breathing nor your eagerness.

“I missed this.” His voice came out broken, strained, as he found a suitable rhythm for his thrusts.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed in agreement, eyes lidding closed as pleasure overcame you.

“Look at me, angel.”

He rested his hand on your throat, not applying any pressure nor closing around it at all, merely a reminder that you were to look up at him. This was the closest you would ever come to getting choked by him, you knew it very well, and you reveled in it, in the claim he was staking on you.

Looking at him was harder than it sounded. You just wanted to close your eyes and get lost into him, how well he filled you up, the pleasant stretch of his cock as he pressed into you. Damian stayed still, bringing his hand up to caress your face, encouraging you.

Your eyes finally focused on his handsome face, on his furrowed brow as he concentrated in fucking you deeper. His eyes bore into yours and his thrusts became harsher, quicker, making you gasp and whine.

He pushed himself up, slowing down as he grabbed at your hips. “Don’t close your eyes,” he commanded, “keep looking at me.”

You nodded, not able to speak as the rocking of his hips picked up pace once more. He brought you closer, prompting you to open your legs even more as your ass lifted off the bed. Damian ground against you as he thrust into you, filling your bedroom with the sound of skin against skin, of his groans and your whimpers as each thrust made you clench tighter around his cock, as the lewd sounds of your growing wetness mingled with everything else.

He continued with that pace, kept your eyes locked as a thin layer of sweat coated his unblemished face. His grip on your hips, vice-like, as if holding onto you was the only thing tethering him to Earth, didn’t falter for anything. But he didn’t have everything under control; his jaw was clenched, eyes wild as they stared into yours. Sounds of pleasure inevitably escaped him, groans and sighs — he had never been one for dirty talk, and in all honesty, the sight before you was enough to get you closer and closer.

One of his hands let go of your hip, traveling inward to your mound. He touched you gently, in contrast to his thrusts, until his fingers grazed your engorged clit. You moaned, and he smiled, making a sound through his nose. Slowly, Damian started to rub your clit, focused on your pleasure in an almost sobering way.

His eyes left yours for a moment, dropping to your form as he pleasured you, watching the gentle bounce of your breasts and the jiggle of your soft curves.

“Don’t stop,” you told him, almost scared he would somehow change his mind.

He didn’t stop, but for a moment, his touch became gentler. The pressure of his fingers against your clit bordered on reverential and the pointed thrust of his hips, earlier methodical, turned into another way of caressing you.

It wasn’t just sex, and you briefly wondered if he felt like this was the first time too, if in some way, he wanted it to be special. You didn’t dare to ask, and he didn’t let you either, leaning his body forward as he watched, as he touched, as he fucked you.

“Like that?” His voice, strained and deep, gave you goosebumps.

You hummed, knowing you would blurt something silly if you opened your mouth. He seemed to know, perhaps he even knew what you would say if you let yourself use your words. Once again, he had mercy on you and instead of commenting on it, on letting it taint the moment, he focused on giving you pleasure, on getting himself closer until his cock pulsated against your tightening muscles, until your gazes found each other out of instinct as your stomachs turned into knots.

He came first, stilling for a moment as he dropped his forehead onto your chest, fingers limp against your clit. He gasped, a shudder ran through him, and he briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them and looked up at you, chin resting on the valley of your breasts, he resumed rubbing your clit, watching your reactions intently, trying to gauge if he should do anything differently.

You found it in yourself to grind against his fingers, making him hiss. His softening cock, still inside you, throbbed at the movement. He pulled out and removed the condom, tying it up before delving into your pussy without warning.

His lips captured your clit, hands coming up to grope your breasts and play with your nipples as he ran his tongue through your folds, drinking you up instead of tasting you. You clenched around nothing, so close already that you grabbed his head and ground against his pretty face, doing your best not to clamp your legs shut as to not asphyxiate him.

Damian sucked on your clit, flickering his tongue against it every time you ground onto his mouth. He didn’t stop until you came, not when your body tensed up, not even when your whimpers turned into moans as your legs started trembling.

His mouth stayed there, attached to your clit, for as long as you came and then some. He ran his tongue through your folds to clean you up, then left a trail of kisses all over your labia.

You breathlessly looked at him as he laid on his side next to you, hands lingering on your chest.

He leaned in and kissed you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, still catching your breath.

You turned on your side to fully face him. His hand moved up to rest tenderly on your neck, giving you enough space to breathe. You couldn’t help but give him a small smile.

“I’m gonna clean up, okay?” you said gently, trying to somehow assure him you weren’t kicking him out.

He nodded, watching your every move as you rolled on the bed to sit up.

By the time you were done cleaning yourself up and had slipped one of the pairs of cotton panties you kept in the bathroom, Damian had already picked up the scattered clothes off the floor. He stood at the foot of your bed, briefs back on, as he typed something on his phone.

Feeling your presence, he locked his phone and dropped it onto the bed. “I brought you a glass of water,” he said, pointing at a glass on the bedside table.

You walked toward a dresser and pulled out a t-shirt. “Thank you.”

He sat on the bed, watching you put the t-shirt on. As you sipped on the glass of water, he leaned back, resting his weight on his arms.

Your eyes fell on his chest, once again on the long dark scar. You set the glass back down onto the bedside table and nodded upward. “Did it hurt?”

Damian blinked rapidly, then nodded. “It did.”

Frowning, you reached over, caressing the portion of the scar on his shoulder. You were at a loss for words. What does one say when the person they love admits having been in pain? And what does one do when the evidence of said pain is so tantalizingly fascinating?

“Does it bother you?” he asked quietly.

“The scar?”

“That I might get hurt at any given moment,” he clarified.

Your eyes searched for his at that. What did he want to hear? And what were you willing to put up with for him? “I find it worrying,” you said apprehensively. “It shouldn’t be your responsibility.”

“But it is.”

“But it is,” you echoed, somewhat resigned. There was no way you would change his mind, and a part of you didn’t want to. This was the real Damian you were seeing, perhaps for the first time in your life.

“Can you deal with that?” His voice carried genuine curiosity. And something more, something vulnerable and rooted deep. “If we…”

You huffed a laugh, not trying to make fun of him of course, but almost incredulous that Damian from all people would doubt himself like this. “If we get back together?” you finished his sentence.

He nodded. “I want you,” he said, as forward and direct as ever, “but I cannot abandon that part of my life for you.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

He stared at you, analyzing you, as if seeing through you. Straightening up, he reached over to grab your hand. “I know. But you might later.”

Even though he knew better than you for the simple reason that he wasn’t new to this, you frowned, almost pouting. Your curiosity got the best of you, and you asked, “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve seen it happen.”

“Well, I wasn’t there.”

Intertwining his fingers with yours, he pleaded, “Don’t get defensive.”

You squeezed his fingers. “All I’m trying to say is that it’s unfair to assume things about me when the parts that might affect me didn’t bother me before.” Perhaps you were getting a little defensive, but you had never done well compared to other people, much less to people you didn’t know. “I’m not saying it was easy,” you added, “but I dealt with it when I didn’t know why you disappeared, or why you didn’t answer my calls, or why you cancelled plans almost every time.”

His gaze softened. “You thought it was your fault.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, somewhat ashamed now that you knew the full truth. “It’s nice to know I was wrong, I guess.”

He huffed. “You guess.”

“Well it’s not nice to be wrong, but in this case… not that bad.” A sudden shiver ran through you. “I’ll adjust the thermostat. Do you want some tea?”

Damian nodded, reaching over for his button-up.

You paused. “If you want something warmer, there are sweatshirts in the closet.”

He dropped his shirt and in two strides reached your closet. You let him be as you padded your way to the thermostat.

With the temperature adjusted and the kettle on, you came back into your room in search of some socks. Damian was laying on your bed, wearing a black sweatshirt too big for him, as he looked up at the ceiling.

Sitting on the bed, you slipped the fuzzy socks on and asked, “Tired?”

“Thinking.”

“Wanna share with the class?”

He rested his hand on your bare thigh, fingers running circles over your skin. “I never considered you might have assumed it was your fault, or that I wasn’t as invested as you, or…” Damian trailed off, not daring to finish his sentence.

“I guess you were just focused on your stuff.” You leaned over to look at him better. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Damian.”

He met your eyes. “It does to me.”

Grabbing his hand, you squeezed his fingers. “Come, let’s have some tea. Maybe a snack.”

He sighed. “Fine.” Shimmying closer to the edge of the bed, he waited for you to stand up before doing the same.

“Want a pair of fuzzy socks?” Before he could answer your question, you handed the socks to him and dropped his hand.

He was quick to put the socks on. “These feel nice,” he said as he stood.

“Right?” You grabbed his fingers and led him into the living area. “I found them by mistake looking for a sweater.”

“Did you find the sweater?”

You made a face and shook your head. “Too small for me.”

As the tea steeped, you went through your pantry and pulled out some snacks you found. Damian read the ingredients in each package.

“I never thought I would see the day you’d buy oatmeal cookies.”

You put the packages he had discarded back in place. “I’m trying to eat more fiber. And failing.”

“Odd strategy to get your fiber from cookies,” he lightheartedly mocked you, opening the package and taking a whiff of the cookies.

You playfully glared at him, but he was too busy pulling cookies out to see you.

“There’s a gala I have to attend in two weeks.” His tone was casual as he brought a cookie close to his mouth.

“Are you making another speech?”

He lowered his hand, along with the cookie, for a moment. He then gave you a confident smile. “Only if I can show you off throughout the evening first.”

You tilted your head, studying him. A part of you wanted to make a sardonic comment, maybe tease him a little bit, but the flutter in your stomach didn’t allow you to be anything but earnest. “Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

“I see no point in waiting.”

“Not even a little bit?” you pressed. When he lifted his eyebrows at your question, you hastily added, “I mean, what if things go wrong like two days later?”

“Nothing will go wrong.” He took a bite off the cookie, watching you, as if waiting for you to disagree.

“If you’re so sure…” You took a sip of tea, letting the hot liquid linger in your mouth before swallowing. Putting the mug down, you added, “I need to know the dress code, though, I donated most of my fancy stuff.”

“It’s black tie,” he answered simply, eyes on you even as he took a gulp of tea. “Why don’t we go shopping this week?”

You could only stare at him. Your hesitance was irrational, you knew as much, but you were more scared than you were willing to admit.

“Shopping,” you repeated, trying to fill the silence. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Damian put his mug down onto the counter and reached for you, resting his hands on your shoulders, thumbs grazing the base of your neck. Leaning in, he pressed his forehead against yours.

You could see in his eyes that he wanted to say something. Words seemed to fail. He inhaled deeply. Slowly, your hands came up to rest on his waist. Damian closed his eyes, grip tightening on your shoulders until he decided it was better to wrap his arms around you.

Nothing would go wrong.

[prettyboykatsuki]

this is such a… idk like a stupid little thought because i can’t get myself to elaborate really but i think caleb is so good at sex. like it’s absurd… in a way that by the way you’re done you’re trembling all over and your mouth is parted and your eyes are just staring blankly at a spot in the ceiling and your ears are buzzing. tongue tied for the following thirty minutes. like he WILL fuck you stupid and i think that’s very nice of him. it’s a combination of everything too like it’s not just that the dick is good (which it is of course. he’s like abusing the good spots without even trying) but the way he talks to you and the way he touches you and the positions and it’s so intense… mmmmmm

IT IS NAWWWT STUPID. LOOK. LISTEN

a lot of people have asked if caleb in my fic is a virgin but i leave this open ended bc i know people get weird about it lmao.

BUT I ALSO LEAVE IT OPEN BECAUSE ! in my heart caleb is truly and sincerely a naturally excellent fuck. even if he were, you wouldn't know for shit because he is . just that good in bed. it's one of those things that he's like unfairly gifted with. truly his only flaw is that he'll never have the hots for someone quite like he does for his little sister

everywhere else? blessed. his dick is unfairly huge so he knows before his first time he'll have to loosen his partner up. and he just has this way of feeling things out with such frustrating charisma that you really don't know.

it's him being receptive to feedback + enthusiastic to please + naturally charismatic as a human being + unfairly handsome + and generally athletic. all of these things combined make for a lethal hit. and also he's been so horribly pent up for years that even just undoing the pressure makes for an intense experience.

he's the same he is in every other part of your life - wants to be thee best for you. and it shows!!! it always does. if you're gonna sit on his face you're not gonna leave until he's sure you're too fucked out to put up a fuss when he gets his dick wet. he makes you nice and pliant and wet. the first time because it's the right thing to do, all the next times because of that and because it feels the best to fuck you that way. soaked to your core - enough to try to push him out.

he likes when you're just taking it. he comes to like that. he thinks its worth every single ounce of effort that comes before it. you always end up just laying there and letting him have a go at you - pulling your hips back and fucking you onto his dick without mercy. makes you feel like a cocksleeve, just a little - but he's not using you.

even the way he fucks you is affectionate so this works. like he's trying to kiss your cervix - the way lovers do. its insane. insane insane insane.

[possessable]

Hi guys remember that elaborate Captain Underpants And The Insidious Incident of the Infectious Inside Joke fanfic idea i had but never actually wrote ? Here's the Entire summary/rough planning document in case you wanted to know how it actually went (warning it is the entire thing under the readmore so it's Long):

George and Harold take note that the students of Jerome Horwitz Elementary seem a little bit off today. They're all smiling and giggling about something, though about what exactly is indiscernible—not to mention The Glowing Yellow Eyes. Oh well, surely it's nothing Captain Underpants can't deal with!

(It's something Captain Underpants can't deal with.)

(Maybe someone else can?)

Over the weekend, George and Harold are hanging out in the treehouse, staying up late trying to plan out a Captain Underpants Theme Song(TM) (It's the Weird Al one, they're the ones who came up with it in universe for this fanfic I guess)

eventually when it gets to be too late they go home and say they'll keep planning it tomorrow, Sunday.

Alas, Tomorrow Comes and it is /not/ Sunday, It's Monday -- Both of the boys lost track of time and forgot that it was Actually The end of the weekend. Both of them accidentally slept in, and are Late For School. They end up rushing to get there so fast that they don't notice something is Slightly Off about the passerbys of the city streets…passerbyes? how do you pluralize "passerby"-- I mean that A Bunch Of people are weird and have glowing yellow eyes and big smiles and George and Harold don't notice.

("why are they rushing they don't seem like the type to be concerned about being late" it's funny sorry)

Point is, they get to school and everyone there is Slightly Off too, who would've guessed? The students are smiling and a lot of them are formed into weird little huddled groups whispering to each other and laughing And Also They Have Glowing Yellow eyes. George and harold do, in fact, think this is a little bit strange, but probably don't take as much note of it as they should.

George: Why is everyone so happy? Harold: Maybe they read our comic and thought it was really funny. George: We didn't /make/ a new comic, we were busy trying to figure out that theme song. Harold: Oh, yeah. uhhh. They're still laughing at one of our older ones, maybe? George: You might be giving us too much credit Harold: We can never have too much credit. George: Hmm. yeah, that's true.

They eventually gotta go to their separate classes and they're like

Harold: Oh, we were so preoccupied that we didn't even come up with any big pranks to do… George: I've always got some quick backups! [pulls out a whoopee cushion for himself] Might not be the most elaborate, but it's a classic. [he takes out…another prank item, i don't know i haven't figured it out, and tosses it to harold.] Harold: [nodding] Classic.

So they part ways and go to their classes.

Cut to George's class, the other students are weirdly well behaved, sitting still and staring straight forward with the same smile plastered on their faces. George looks around, a little confused at their cheerful dispositions, but the teacher Ms. Ribble still seems to be normal and blah-blah-blah-ing boringly about Whatever Subject.

George decides to put his simple prank plan into action and tosses the whoopee cushion onto her chair as she's sitting down. She sits on it, it makes the Funny Fart Sound, she gets annoyed--but none of the other students laugh or react whatsoever. They continue their blank-smiled stares.

Ms. Ribble simply removes the whoopee cushion from her chair with an irritated look on her face and continues teaching. George is baffled.

(During that whole scene it's intermittently cutting to Harold's class, where The Same Thing Happens with his prank attempt. He is /also/ baffled.)

Anyway, at the end of their classes, the students file out of the door in a neat line (except for george and harold who kind of just walk past everyone else confusedly. as George leaves--in the background, one of the smiling students approaches Ms.Ribble. She looks at them indignantly like "what do you want" but then the student grabs her by the arm and yanks her down so they're face to face, about to Do Something--George doesn't notice at all and leaves before the interaction is completed.)

Point is, George and Harold meet up again in the hallway, and both of them Immediately ask -

George and Harold, simultaneously: What was THAT??? Harold: Nobody even -- George: There wasn't even a /single/ sensible chuckle at the whoopee cushion! How can you not chuckle at a whoopee cushion!? Harold: That's what I was about to say!!!! Nobody reacted at ALL! George: Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Harold: Something weird is going on! george [at the same time]: Something weird is going on…

They walk down the hallway for a bit longer, this time taking more note of the weird huddled groups of whispering students. They grow More Concerned.

Then Melvin walks up to them.

Melvin: Do you two know what's going on with everyone today? It is /very/ annoying. Did you put out another one of your juvenile comics? George: Actually, no. We're with you on this one, we have no idea what's so funny. Melvin: Hm. Whatever… I have calculus notes to study…[walks off to go to his locker] Harold: ?????? Calculus????

Melvin tries to get to his locker, but there's one of those weird huddles of kids (three kids, probably) in front of it. He tries to push past them and utterly fails.

Melvin: Uh. Hello? You're standing in front of my locker. [The children ignore him and continue whispering and laughing to themselves.] Melvin: /What/ are you /giggling/ at? The Children, all in unison: We learned a really funny joke. Melvin: …Right. Can you-- The Children: Do you want to know what it is? Melvin: If the explanation for your joke requires a lead-in /asking me/ if i want to know the joke, then it's probably too long of an explanation! I don't have time for this… [starts walking off] I can--

As Melvin tries to leave, one of the kids grabs him by the arm and pulls him back. He protests, obviously, but another one of the kids leans in and whispers something in his ear, then giggles. Melvin looks confused at first, and then his face shifts and he starts smiling like the other kids are. He laughs , and with a little blinks, acquires The Glowing Yellow eyes.

George and harold have been watching this entire interaction from the sidelines and are now Obviously concerned. Melvin notices them and approaches, like "They were right, the joke IS really funny :-) I think you two would like it, do you want to know what it is?"

George and harold Do Not. They run away.

As they're running in panic, they discuss how something is DEFINITELY wrong -- maybe before it could be denied, but melvin Would Not Say That. Also, some of the kids notice them and start chasing after them. They get to the front of the school and they're about to run out the doors, but Krupp walks up and stops them, crossing his arms.

Krupp: What do you two think you're doing? George: Principle Krupp! There's-- Krupp: You two show up late for school, run around in the halls which is /absolutely/ against the rules-- Harold: [gesturing to the weird kids] Mister Krupp, there's a-- Krupp: Don't interrupt me--and now you're trying to /leave/ entirely? Not on my watch! You two, my office, n-- George: [snaps]

Obviously Captain tries to do that thing where he rips off all of his clothes and yells his Mighty Battle Cry but George and Harold stop him like "No, hold on, you'll draw too much attention to us" and usher him out the door. They run back to the tree house.

In the treehouse, Captain switches back into his usual (lack of) clothes.

Captain: What's the situation, sidekicks? George: There's some sort of weird…happy humorous hivemind… Captain: Humorous happy hivemind, huh? Harold: Some sort of insidious incident of an infectious inside joke… George: Title drop Captain: What? Harold: [nodding] Title drop Captain: Hm! Well, I don't know what that means but all-in-all i appreciate the awesome act of alliteration.

So they explain in more detail what they're talking about, and decide they need to go out and try to find The Source of this weird hivemind plague and put A STOP to it!

Before heading out, they decide to stock up on supplies and Weapons for Self Defense… They look around the treehouse. George finds a slingshot and decides that's good enough. Harold is like "I swear I had something good around here, a nerf gun or something…" but can't find it. Captain helps look around and at first finds the plans for the theme song and he's like "Oh this is great :-D" but now is not the time for that of course . he finds a SuperSoaker instead and picks it up, pointing it directly to his face

captain: Ooh, what's this, a watergun? harold: DON'T POINT THAT AT YOUR-- captain: Kidding, kidding! [hands it to Harold] I learned to stop doing that after the first 15 times. george: 16 captain: Yes!

with that , They head out.

The people on the streets are, in fact, all weird and infeccted as well. Captain is briefly like "Hey what's the problem with this hivemind if it's making people happy that doesn't seem too bad -- [one of the infected tries to grab him violently by the arm] Nevermind that's weird [he punches them away]"

They try to figure out what could've possibly caused Whatever Is Going On, standing in an area with no infected to try and think. While the boys are trying to figure that out, captain goes "Well, atleast we can look at this lovely sunset while we wait."

The boys go "What ??? Captain it's the middle of the day, there's no sunset--" and then look to see what he's talking about and notice that part of the sky is, in fact, being tinted weird shades of orange and yellow by this ominously silhouetted glowing thing on top of a tall building.

It's a meteor. There's a giant glowing meteor that landed on top of a building in the city, particularly a building that boasts the city's Moderately Large Spaghetti Bowl Monument, a large empty metal spaghetti bowl + fork statue. It landed inside of the bowl, obviously, fitting perfectly and causing little structural damage to the rest of the building.

They decide to check it out. Captain flies them all over there, temporarily leaving the boys nearby on the ground below while he heads up to go confront The Meteor.

He flies up to it, inspects it closely, determines it to be Just A Weird Rock that doesn't hold any immediate threat to him, and turns away to give a little speech, "Worry not, citizens of this marvelous metropolis! This strange glowing rock stands no chance against the great warrior of waistbands!"

He turns back to notice that the meteor is glowing even brighter and making a weird charge-up sound, and does not process it in time to dodge when it shoots a giant laser beam at his face.

He falls to the ground, making a giant crater when he impacts the floor. George and harold shout "No!" and run up to check on him. he has little scrapes on his face from having fallen into the ground so hard.

so follows this one comic:

So they run away, of course--and Captain pursues them, of course.

So now they're running through the streets fighting off regular infected with their shoddy weapons [Watergun and Slingshot] while also trying to evade Captain, who is More Dangerous because he Has Superpowers. He starts trying to attack them by doing the underwear slingshot thing at them

Harold: No! I never thought the unlimited underwear ability would be used against us! George: What about the super strength and flight and stuff? Harold: I know, but the unlimited underwear thing is just so much more personal… George: [sighing sadly] Yeah, it is…

After a while of running, they end up cornering themselves in an alleyway, because that always happens in situations like these.

They try to figure out what to do, because they can't imagine their dinky little kids toy weapons would do anything against Captain, but they don't have much time to think because George gets Threateningly Grabbed By The Collar Of His Shirt and Lifted By The Infected Hero.

Harold panics and finally just shoots Captain in the face with the supersoaker.

He drops George, shutting his eyes while he shakes the water out of his face with a "Aughrublblsgjblrbh!" noise--and when he opens them again, the yellow glow is gone. And Also He is Very Angry and Confused looking.

Krupp: WBHUH. WHAT. [looks at Lack Of Clothes] Not this again! George, Harold, WHY am I--!?? [he looks at the boys for 5 seconds to see that they look genuinely afraid and panicked. He quiets down from his yelling, now too preoccupied Being Slightly Concerned to feel angry] Krupp: Why are you… [looks around for a little bit more and then notices the scrapes on his face] Why is my face-- George: Wait, Krupp isn't infected! Harold: [gasp] You're right! Krupp: What? [Harold grabs Krupp by the arm and start running out of the alleyway] Harold: We're going to the treehouse, now! Krupp: [now angry again] WHAT? CAN I AT LEAST FIND MY CLOTHES FIRST!? George: They're at the treehouse. Krupp: THEY'RE AT THE--!?? Of course they're at the treehouse, why wouldn't they be at the treehouse?

Cut to the treehouse.

Krupp angrily puts on his clothes and his toupee.

Krupp: You boys…have a /lot/ of explaining to do. [long uncomfortable silence] George: …I'm gonna try something first Krupp: What do you mean /try somethi/-- [George snaps at Krupp. This brings back the glowing yellow eyes and empty smile on Captain's face, and he immediately lunges at george to try and attack him again. Harold shoots him with the supersoaker.] George: sorry i wanted to see if captain was back to normal yet Krupp: AUAGABLBHRGHBL [shakes head] What /is/ that!? Stop doing that! George: Okay, okay! explaining now!

The boys explain the whole "there's a weird hivemind thing going on (We had nothing to do with it this time we swear), and everyone in the school got infected, and everyone on the streets is infected, and YOU got infected too--but we…splashed you with water…which snapped you out of it, and, uhh, uhhhh"

They neglect to mention Captain.

Krupp stares at them skeptically.

They decide to tack on "Also, you have superpowers…?"

/That/ gets Krupp to react--He goes "WHAT? That is ridiculous! This is another one of your guys' stupid pranks there's--" starts laughing incredulously "I DO NOT Have--" he immediately stops laughing "….what type of superpowers"

george and harold very casually list off some of them like "oh yeah uh, flight. super strength, super resilience, uhh"

krupp stares at the floor like "…i guess that would…explain that one time when…[cut to flashback of him accidentally levitating to get something off of a high shelf and then only noticing 5 seconds later] …and the…. that other time when [cut to flashback of him getting frustrated and slamming his head on his desk only to break the entire thing in half]"

george and harold look at him, saying "i bet he's having a sequence of comedic but also revelatory flashbacks right now"

Anyway, while Krupp is having a small crisis, The Boys huddle and talk to each other.

Harold: How are we gonna get out of this one? George: "This one" as in Krupp knowing about the super powers or "This one" as in the alien meteor plague? Harold: Both! George: Hmm. Look, I hate to say this, but I think with a situation as widespread as this, we may need… Harold: No… George: We need Good, Responsible adults on our team! Harold: UGH George: And with Captain out of commission, we just have "responsible!" [gestures to Krupp] Harold: I guess you're right…but who else even is there? It's not like any of the staff at the school would help us! george: [thinking] george: except for… Harold: Oh, right! Harold: [turns back to Krupp] You stay here, we gotta get someone Krupp: [preoccupied looking at a figurine of captain underpants]

To make a long story short, they go to the school cafeteria to get Edith.

they explain "EDITH! THere's a weird alien hivemind thing and and-and the. WE NEED HELP!!"

and edith really doesn't question it too hard before taking out a cast iron pan from Somewhere like "Okay i'll help you guys"

and then the boys are like "Wh. W. No you can't use a cast iron pan these -- that's like, an actual--that will concuss people"

edith proceeds to go "OH right right sorry so sorry" and takes out a stainless steel pan instead because it's a bit lighter. george and harold obviously object to this as well before edith chooses an actually acceptable kitchen weapon [fire extinguisher maybe? she picks it up and the boys are like "NO THAT WILL ALSO CONCUSS PEOPLE" but then she demonstrates that she's gonna use it by spraying the fire extinguisher and not by using it as a blunt force weapon and they're like "okay yeah that's fine whatever"]

The boys get back to the treehouse and climb inside.

Krupp: Oh, you're back. [putting down the paper with the captain underpants theme song planning on it, which he was holding for some reason] This place is an absolute /pig-sty/ by the way! Why does it smell like grape soda in here? You should-- edith: [climbs inside of the treehouse as well] Krupp: [immediately shuts up] Heyyyy Edithhhh [charasmatically leans against something and rests his head on his palm] edith: Benjamin Krupp [charasmatically Snaps And Does Fingerguns]

captain immediately tries to lunge at george and harold again but they shoot him with the supersoaker [they're not even scared this time they're just unamused] and they look at edith like "DO NOT snap at him." edith is like "Right right sorry I forgot." Krupp is confused.

The boys start explaining and planning like

Harold: Okay. We have to get to the meteor's building--and it /will/ be a dangerous journey. Since Krupp can't fly us there like Captain would've-- krupp: what? harold: --we've planned out an entire route by foot, each step we take will be meticulously calculated to avoid dangerous encounters and [insert overly planned and overly dramatic route drawn on a paper map of the city, insert the boys mentioning] … if we get into trouble edith can take one for the team and lure the infected away for us-- krupp: What!?? edith: [nods agreeably] harold: --because she's definitely smart and could survive on her own Krupp: AND I COULDN'T???

eventually after way too much explanation of their elaborate plan Krupp finally interrupts [almost snaps to get their attention but refrains and waves his hands/claps instead] to say "Guys. hey. Hey listen to me."

and the boys are like "What?"

and Krupp is like "I Have a car"

To make a long story short, they drive to the meteor building and go inside so they can get to the roof. In the building there are More Infected--with each level they go up the infected get More Aggressive due to their proximity to the meteor. Shenanigans ensue, montage of them fighting off the infected with their ridiculous weapons [supersoaker, slingshot, fire extinguisher, krupp doesn't even have a weapon he's just there] and also with each floor they're trying to get Krupp to figure out how to use his powers. He's doing an Okay Job at figuring them out but not A Great Job.

Also, the entire time the boys keep humming/singing the captain underpants theme song and krupp is like "Can you stop doing that it's annoying"

Anyway, eventually on one of the higher floors the windows are broken for some reason-- edith gets into A Scuffle with an infected person and uhh. gets shoved out of one of the windows. Krupp tries to grab her but fails, so she falls out of the building. Naturally, Krupp jumps out after her without the slightest bit of hesitation.

This concerns the boys greatly because to them it looks like the two adults on their team just died.

Obviously they /don't/ die, though. Krupp , falling, reaches out for edith , managing to grab her and finally figure out how to intentionally use his flight powers for the first time . He flies back up to the floor that George and Harold are at, holding edith in a bridal style carry with both of them looking utterly baffled, and Harold is just like

(old art haha)

Anyway. now that he can fly they don't need to scale up the rest of the floors of the building, they just fly up to the roof of the building.

Also, krupp by this point has begun humming/singing the captain underpants theme song to himself as well and george and harold are like "i thought you said it was annoying" and krupp begrudgingly admits "IT'S CATCHY."

Anyway, Meteor time!

I don't feel like typing the rest, it's just those two comics i made

Anyway, Yada yada yada, they have a confrontation and a fight ensues. George is like "Let everyone go from your weird hivemind thing!" and the following comic i made happens:

anyway. The Meteor then shoots another beam at george and actually hits him because Krupp was too distracted waiting for an answer to help him dodge this time (krupp: WAIT NO)

(harold: No! George! D-: Why does this keep happening it's just like the anti-humor beam from the first movie krupp: [from across the room] The first what? harold: Nothing)

anyway george is infected now. he stands up Slowly and Ominously and starts walking towards harold to infect him as well or something [meteor's not just using a beam again for The Drama] and harold is like "George! No! Uhh, uhh--" he panics and tries to think of something to do and just ends up singing the captain underpants theme song that they were coming up with the day before. George actually stops his approach and freezes for a second.

Meteor: [confused] What are you doing? krupp: [alarmed] What are you doing!? harold: I DONT KNOW I JUST THOUGHT IT MIGHT HELP [continues badly singing]

Harold keeps singing and it does seem to stop/confuse george from going any further. edith also joins in. The meteor yells at them to shut up because the song is annoying. Harold is like "i think you mean it's Catchy :-)" and the meteor is like "No I do not."

Note to self. This would be a lot more dramatic in the actuual thing the summary document makes it sound stupid as hell but that's okay

extended period of silence before the meteor starts going "nananana captain underpants yeah yeah yeaaa" to itself and then it's like "GOD DAMN IT"

Anyway, point is, they all sing the themesong at it really loudly [krupp also joins in hesitantly] until the meteor goes "NO WHY IS YOUR MEMETIC COGNITOHAZARD MORE POWERFUL THAN MY MEMETIC COGNITOHAZARD!??" and gets annoyed/intimidated into Literally Growing Legs and walking away.

Conflict resolved! George is back to normal now. All is well. except george doesn''t seem super happy it seems like Seomething is on his mind still [thinking about the ethicality of Captain's existence]

They recoup at the treehouse again.

George starts guiltily explaining the entirety of the "we hypnotized you into being a superhero" thing to Krupp.

Krupp stares the entire time with an unreadable facial expression until George is done talking. There's an uncomfortable silence during which george and harold are expecting krupp to blow up at them.

eventually though krupp is just like "…wow. of course it was you. why wouldn't it been you?" in an oddly calm voice that sounds more relieved than angry

my explanation for why krupp isnt that mad by the end of the fic when he learns that george and harold did the hypno ring thing on him is because it takes place a relatively long time after the first movie [a year maybe? even over a year?] and during the first couple of months afterward he wasextremely mad and confused without an explanation but eventually resigned himself to just Not Having an explanation so now that he does have one he's just like "well. i should be absolutely furious but i already spent all of my furiousness now i'm just relieved to know not in a "im being nice and forgiving you on purpose" way more in a "i feel like i should be angry and i kind of want to be angry but im literally just not"

anyway, Another Awkward Silence Follows before george gingerly asks "uh…can we… see if captain is back to normal now?"

krupp is like "yeah whatever i've had enough of existing for today sure" and snaps at himself. Captain is, in fact, back to normal -- though he is also very confused and startled before george explains that they already saved the day and everything's good now.

uh, idk, Conclusion here?

The end!

EXTRAS:

i think i was gonna do a gag where edith is immune to the hivemind , which is because she is also an alien, but she just explains it to the gang as "oh i already have a distinct eye color of my own so i'm immune to it making my eyes yellow which means i'm also immune to the rest of it." this also means she was going to be shielding harold from the beam attacks by just like, standing in front of him and letting it hit her instead

i maybe was planning on putting a part sometime when they're ascending the building where the meteor talks directly to the gang through captain (possibly some music on the building's intercom/radio has snapping in it, whatevah) and then it monologues all mysterious and intimidating like "ohhh you are scaling my tower to have a direct confrontation with me? okay i won't stop you, but do you think --" and then edith is like "oh wait! i know you. (turns to the gang) i knew this meteor in college it sucked" and the meteor's just like "SHUT UP whatever nevermind i'm done monologuing just shoot the guy with the water again. see you at the top!"

the reason why captain is infected and krupp isn't is because it's a knowledge-based memetic infection. if you Know the joke you are Susceptible to the infection. however, due to The Memory Loss between the two, captain knows it and krupp does not. the beam attack is just the meteor beaming knowledge of the joke directly into someone's head without using a secondary proxy like someone verbally speaking/whispering it

the joke in question is cosmic and unknowable and incomprehensible to human-minds specifically, but for aliens it's the equivalent of a really basic/unfunny "why'd the chicken cross the road" style joke. at some point in the fic i think edith was gonna get grabbed and fakeout infected but after a Moment of Suspense, it's revealed to have absolutely no effect on her, and she just pipes up with "That joke's not even funny!" . this might have been what led up to her getting shoved out of the window because the infected resorted to more violent methods of getting her out of the way if she wasn't infectable

[six-white-venus]

the problem with living in survival mode for all your developmental years is that when it finally does get better, you don't know what the fuck to do with yourself.

"you're still so childish," my mom had chided fondly one day when i was laughing at a crude joke that wasn't all that funny and i had to hold myself back from asking, "really?"

because in all honesty, i don't really know what it means to be a child. i didn't even know happiness before now, and i've never lived a day without the sheer intensity of my emotions crushing me. have i ever been a child? i don't know, because this is how i remember my life so far:

me, aged 6, sitting in front of the TV with my cold plate of food, watching dora the explorer

Sad.

and now

i'm still getting used to the novelty of having a full night's sleep everyday and not waking up wanting to kill myself, what do you mean i have to figure out what to do with my life? i have been handed something that i never wanted, that i never dared to hope for, and i hold this life in my palms with all the care i can muster with my jagged edges and freezing skin.

i'm living life in non-chronological order. i was 37 before i was 15, i am now 13 when i'm supposed to be 20. sometimes i feel older than life and so, so tired. the other day i found myself being hit with a wave of jealousy so large that i couldn't breathe for a second while looking at a 14 year old because i would never be able to have what she does. and it really is a new low, hating a middle schooler just a little because when i was 14 my biggest concern wasn't failing math but keeping myself from breaking my clean streak of two days by reaching for the kitchen knife. it's disorienting to walk around trying to 'act my age' because i feel like i'm in a whole new world than everyone else. everyday i'm made to write a surprise quiz that everyone but me was informed about. not everyone knows how to walk someone down the ledge. barely anyone fists their hands on their lap while listening to lectures on mental health thinking wrong, wrong, wrong that's not how depression works, that's not how children who want to die think, that's not the only reason for a young person to lose themself, that's not how misery feels on your skin, on your tongue. wrong, wrong, WRONG.

no, i don't know my plans for the future but i do know how to carry the weight of the world in my chest and how to hide finger nails bitten till raw and red and how to write with blood and how to cover it all up with a smile and- all of that is useless? oh. oh.

it feels like an elaborate joke, almost; like the universe is having a good laugh at my expense because the world is asking for a sculpture and all i have are my barely healed hands and a broken clay pot that has no hope of being salvaged. it's not about falling behind in the race, it's about being shoved into a goddamn marathon when you haven't even learned to walk yet. and no, dragging myself to the finish line on all fours with scraped knees and palms shredded by gravel is no longer an option.

how the hell do you live when all you know is to survive?

but really, it's not as bad as i'm making it sound, at least not all of it. this liminal space that hangs between childhood and adulthood and everything that comes before and after that, it's not awful. yeah, i'm still not sure if i will get into med school, but i'm falling a little bit in love with the sound of my laugh. i might have a huge void in my head where the last 6 years should be, but i'll never forget the laugh that bubbled out of my chest when my doctor halved my med dosage. i still carry my grief like a cloak over my shoulders but i've been leaving it behind in my house more and more because it's getting too warm for anything more than a t-shirt these days.

and after all that, the question still remains: what the hell do i do now?

laugh with my friends, maybe. make a mean cup of tea. learn everything all over again, from the start. smile till it sits on my face like it always belonged there. go to sleep early, because that's something i like doing these days.

what do i do now? i ask my mom and she tells me to help her with lunch. what do i do now? i ask my sister and she tells me to shut up and listen to the latest gossip from her class. what do i do now? i ask my best friend and he throws me his phone without looking and tells me to order whatever i'm craving.

what do i do now? i ask and they all say, isn't it obvious? you start living.

[sainteclectic]

TELL ME ABOUT VAMPIRE AU WHOLESOUL PLEASEEE

OHHH MY GOD OK . it's a thing I've been developing with @peachphernalia and we're both very normal about them at the moment

basically. whole is a vampire that's slowly starving himself because he doesn't want to hurt anyone, and soul is a suicidal wreck with nothing to live for. one day, when whole goes to the roof of an apartment he doesn't even live at, there's someone already sitting at the edge of the roof.

they both start freaking out of course, but then they get to talking {mostly so whole can make sure this guy doesn't actually try anything} and while explaining the vampire thing, whole jokingly says that maybe he could drink soul's blood if neither of them have anything else going on. it's a self deprecating joke meant to lighten the mood, but soul IMMEDIATELY agrees because it's the first time in ages he's ever been offered a purpose in life. and whole can't really back down now

soooo soul starts going over to whole's place {some abandoned house on the outskirts of town, he got locked out of his apartment when he turned because he couldn't invite himself inside} and whole drinks his blood. very poorly. cannot express how horrible he is at drinking blood it's kind of impressive. but of course soul is absolutely smitten. soul has finally found something to live for, and whole has finally been given permission to exist. and they're normal about each other

meanwhile, soul's roommates notice him leaving the house for increasingly long periods of time {he barely leaves their apartment} and coming back with mysterious bandages that he refuses to elaborate on. and eventually, since whole has 0 knowledge of how much blood a person can regularly lose {and soul isn't about to make him worry}, soul starts acting delirious and looks pale and faints at random. and heart and mind are like what the fuck is going on with you. are you ok. and all soul can think to respond with is nodding with the dumbest giddiest smile on his face

heart and mind have their own conspiracy board and regularly theorize and argue about what the hell is going on with soul (serial killer?) [well he's not fucking dead. you idiot. you goddamn fool.] (ok well what's your idea wise guy) [...boxing?] (what the hell kind of boxing have you gone to???)

basically they're. very normal and average . also whole got turned in the 2000s and hasn't updated his wardrobe at all since. it's very tragic

[mysticsoniaowo]

School Prom

Please don't read my work or interact if you're under 14!! My works consist of some intimate touches and makeout sessions, and I don't want someone younger reading those!

A/N: The outfit and hairstyle described here is just a suggestion, feel free to create your own look! Everything else, like your hair, eye color, and other personal details, is completely up to you as well. Make it your own and enjoy! Also apologies if the kiss scene feels short or lacks detail. I'm not very experienced in writing those, so any future kiss scenes will likely be brief and not too elaborate. I appreciate your understanding!

Genre: High School + Hidden Love

Pair: Pre-Debut High School Student Hyunjin x High School Student Female Reader

Words: 7257

~~~

You're in your last year of high school, and today is the day of the famous Prom that was held every year for the graduating grades. It was an event that every person was excited about, even the most aloof ones.

Excited was an understatement–your entire being radiated pure giddiness and joy. It bubbled within you, impossible to contain, spilling over in your bright smile and animated movements. Anyone who saw you could feel the infectious energy, your happiness lighting up the room.

Why were you excited? Because your prom date was none other than Lee Junseo himself. The Lee Junseo–the boy everyone knew you had a huge, undeniable crush on. It was practically common knowledge around the school, your friends teasing you about it endlessly. So when he approached you just a week ago, asking if you’d be his date, you could barely believe it. The moment the words left his lips, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. It wasn’t just an invitation–it was your dream come true.

From the moment you first laid eyes on Lee Junseo years ago, you were smitten. Every glance, every interaction had fueled your growing crush, and you found yourself chasing after him whenever the opportunity arose. You’d done everything to show your interest–little gestures, kind words, and lingering smiles–but he never gave any indication of feeling the same. So when he approached you, casually asking you to be his prom date, you were stunned. You’d convinced yourself he’d never notice you, yet here he was. Overwhelmed with joy, you eagerly accepted, hope blossoming in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, this night would be the start of something more between the two of you.

You’d pulled out all the stops to look stunning for tonight, and with your best friend Felix’s expert help, the result was breathtaking. Felix, a true fashion genius, had worked his magic to perfection. You wore a long, dark green dress that sparkled under the light, the glittery fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places. Matching green heels added elegance to your stride, while gold jewelry–a delicate bracelet on each wrist, a sleek necklace, and heart-shaped earrings–added a touch of sophistication. Your hair was styled in neat curls, tied up beautifully with red roses woven through them, a striking contrast that felt like something out of a fairy tale. Felix even outdid himself with your makeup: deep red lips that popped, subtle green eyeshadow, and sleek black eyeliner that accentuated your gaze. You marveled at how he could work such magic with hair and makeup, leaving you feeling like absolute royalty.

And here you were, standing by the snack table, your eyes scanning the room as you waited patiently for your date to arrive. A mix of enthusiasm and nervousness bubbled in your chest, making it hard to stay still. This was a first for you–being asked out by a guy, and not just any guy, but the one you’d been crushing on for years. The thought sent a thrill through you, but it also left a twinge of unease. What if the night didn’t go as you dreamed? Still, the anticipation was electric, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of seeing him walk through the doors.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Junseo stepped into the school gym–a space transformed with elegant decorations, twinkling lights, and a vibrant atmosphere for the big night. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, dressed sharply and effortlessly commanding attention. A wide smile spread across your face, and you instinctively raised your hand to wave at him, eager to catch his attention. But then, your eyes caught something that made your hand freeze mid-air. Your smile faltered, the exhilaration draining away.

Junseo wasn’t alone. Walking beside him was Yuwon, the ever-popular girl from your high school–the one you weren’t exactly friendly with. Your chest tightened as you noticed his hand resting on her waist, his grip firm and casual, as if it belonged there. They were deep in conversation, Junseo’s wide grin matching Yuwon’s bright expression. They looked perfectly at ease with each other, their chemistry undeniable. As they passed by you, Junseo didn’t even spare you a glance, his attention completely on her. Meanwhile, Yuwon’s gaze flicked to you briefly, her expression almost smug, as though she knew exactly what she was doing. That moment stung more than words could say.

What the hell was going on?

You were the one he had asked to Prom, not Yuwon. So what was he doing here with her? Why was he so at ease with her, acting as though he didn't even see you standing there? The realization hit you like a punch to the stomach–had he just... dumped you without saying a word?

The confusion and hurt swirled inside you, making it hard to breathe. You couldn’t believe it. Everything you had hoped for, everything you had dreamed of, felt like it was crushed right in front of you.

In an instant, your heart shattered.

The joy you’d felt only moments ago evaporated, leaving you with nothing but shock and an overwhelming sense of sadness. He had asked you out, filled you with hope, and now here he was with Yuwon, completely ignoring you. You stood there, feeling like a fool, questioning everything.

Had all your feelings, your efforts, been a joke to him? Were you just something to toy with, never meant to be more than a passing thought? The weight of heartbreak settled heavily on your chest, leaving you frozen in disbelief.

But then, a bitter thought crept in–what did you really expect? That someone as perfect as him would ever like a simple girl like you? It seemed so foolish now, that hope you’d clung to for so long.

You had just been stood up, left standing there while he walked off with Yuwon, and the sting of it made you feel like the biggest idiot in the entire school. All those years of chasing him, pouring your heart into something that was never meant to be–it felt pointless now. Regret gnawed at you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of how stupid you had been.

You looked down at the floor, your fists clenched tightly by your sides as the stinging pain in your chest intensified with every shaky breath you took.

It felt as if your heart was being painfully stubbed, each breath more labored than the last. Tears began to sting at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over, but you blinked them away desperately, refusing to let them fall. Not here, not now. You couldn’t break down in the middle of the Prom, surrounded by all those happy, carefree students. So you fought to keep your composure, even as the ache inside you grew unbearable.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of it all was suffocating.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but it had turned into the worst. Your heart was scattered into pieces you didn’t know how to gather.

Maybe to some, it wouldn’t seem like such a big deal–it was just a school Prom, after all. Junseo and Yuwon weren’t even kissing, nothing overtly dramatic. But to you, it was clear. He had literally dumped you for her, and that hurt more than you could put into words.

Before a single tear could escape, you spun on your heel and quickly made your way toward the gym entrance. To you, it was no longer an entrance to the night you’d dreamed of, but an exit–a way out of the overwhelming pain.

Every step you took felt like a desperate attempt to flee from the laughter and music, the joy you no longer felt. You just wanted to get away, to escape the crushing reality of it all as quickly as possible.

As you walked, not daring to look back, you struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. The path ahead was all you could focus on. But as you passed Felix and his group of friends, you heard his voice calling out after you, his tone filled with concern.

Still, you didn’t stop. Your head throbbed, the world around you blurring into a haze, and your ears rang as if muffling everything around you. Your heart felt like it was being torn apart with every step. You didn’t have the energy to explain, to face anyone–especially not now. All you wanted was to get away from it all.

~~~

You were just an inch away from the entrance, your steps quickening as you tried to escape the crushing weight of your heartbreak. Every part of you felt devastated, your mood sinking deeper with each passing second. But then, without warning, you felt someone’s hand grip yours tightly. Before you could react, you were spun around, the room whirled, and suddenly you were face to face with someone.

And that someone was none other than Hwang Hyunjin.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you realized just how close your faces were, the sudden proximity catching you off guard.

For a brief moment, everything seemed to pause. Your breath caught in your throat, and without understanding why, your heart skipped a beat at the closeness.

"Hyunjin?" You breathed out, your voice trembling with shock. The confusion was evident, your mind spinning as you tried to process what was happening.

Your thoughts were a whirlwind–why was he here, why was he stopping you, and what was all this sudden closeness about? You couldn’t make sense of it, and the bewilderment left you feeling lost and unsure of what to do next.

You weren’t particularly close with Hyunjin or any of Felix’s other friends. Sure, there were a few casual conversations here and there, usually when Felix invited you to hang out with the group, but that was the extent of it. You’d never spent time with any of them one-on-one, and while the group dynamic was comfortable, it was always more about Felix than forming any deeper connections. You never expected anything beyond that, so having Hyunjin stand so close to you now felt unexpected and confusing.

You noticed the slight flush creeping onto Hyunjin’s cheeks as he realized just how close the two of you were. The sudden warmth on his face made the moment feel even more intimate. Yet, despite the apparent surprise, he didn’t step back.

His hand remained firmly but gently wrapped around yours, the touch reassuring and steady, as though he didn’t want to let go.

He swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as his gaze locked on you. His breath hitched for a moment, and his heart skipped a beat at the intensity of the moment.

"Uh, hi, Y/N," he managed to say, his voice coming out a little shaky, betraying the sudden rush of nervous energy that coursed through him. His eyes lingered on yours, trying to mask the vulnerability, but the uncertainty in his voice was impossible to miss.

Hyunjin was standing with the guys at the back of the gym, but his attention wasn’t on the lively conversation around him. His thoughts were far away, focused solely on you. The girl he had admired from a distance but never had the courage to confess to.

His heart ached with the quiet realization that you liked someone else, and that simple fact kept him from ever expressing his feelings. He knew that confessing would only lead to rejection, and the idea of that kind of embarrassment was unbearable. So, he quietly carried his crush in silence, watching from afar, too afraid to risk his emotions.

Then, suddenly, your figure caught Hyunjin’s eye as you walked past, radiant in your beautiful green dress. His gaze followed you, but you moved so quickly that he barely had time to take it all in.

Soon enough, he heard Felix calling after you, snapping him out of his daze. Instantly, a protective instinct flared inside him, the urge to go after you strong and urgent. But he hesitated, unsure if it was the right move–if he even had the right to.

Felix, who knew about his crush on you, noticed the hesitation and nudged him, urging him to act. "It’s your first and last chance," Felix said, his words pushing Hyunjin into action. Without another moment’s thought, he decided to catch up with you.

"Hi?" you replied after a brief pause. It came out more like a question than a greeting, and you couldn’t help but chuckle awkwardly, still completely confused by the situation. 

"Do you... need something?" you asked, your eyes flicking to his as you tried to make sense of why he was so near.

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly as you became acutely aware of Hyunjin's breath brushing against your lips. Your gaze instinctively shifted to his hand, still wrapped tightly around yours, and you couldn’t help but notice how his touch sent a flutter through you.

Hyunjin cleared his throat softly, his hand gently releasing yours. He took a small step back, just enough to create a bit of space between you, but not enough to feel like a real distance.

As he let go of you, a sudden wave of disappointment washed over you. You couldn't quite explain why, but the absence of his touch felt oddly empty.

You quickly shook off the feeling, not wanting to overthink it. There was no reason for it, you told yourself, and yet, you couldn’t quite ignore how it lingered in the air between you both.

"Actually, I..." Hyunjin began, his voice faltering as he trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to continue.

His cheeks flushed with warmth, betraying the nerves bubbling inside him. It was the first time he was speaking to you without the safety of the group, and the weight of that unfamiliarity made his words feel heavy. He could feel his heart racing, his usual confidence slipping as he struggled to find the right thing to say.

He ran his hand through his brown hair, a nervous habit that betrayed his anxiety. "I just... noticed you were leaving and... I just wanted to talk to you," he finally managed to say, his voice a little shaky.

His gaze flicked over your face, and it didn’t take long for him to notice the subtle signs of distress, especially the way your eyes shimmered with unshed tears. His heart tightened with concern as he realized you seemed on the verge of breaking down.

"Ah, well, I'm going back to my house..." you spoke softly, a sad smile tugging at your red lips as your eyes fell to the wooden floor beneath you.

The hurt in your voice was unmistakable, and it was clear to anyone listening that you were barely holding it together. You quickly raised your hand, brushing away the tears that had gathered on your lashes, not wanting for Hyunjin to see them. You didn't want to seem weak, especially not in front of him, but the emotional weight was becoming too much to hide.

There was nothing left to keep you here. All the effort you’d put into this night, all the hope you’d carried, now felt like it meant nothing. You had wanted this to be special, but instead, it seemed like it would end in the solitude of your room. You imagined curling up under the covers, letting your sadness pour out in the quiet of the night.

"You're... going back? Alone?" Hyunjin's voice was soft, yet it carried a deep edge of concern.

He noticed the sadness in your smile, the way your gaze dropped to the floor, and the subtle hurt in your tone. Each detail made his heart tighten more and more, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of empathy for you.

He wanted to ask, to understand what had happened, what had made you want to leave, though he had a sinking feeling it had something to do with your date. Still, he didn’t want to push you too much, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or force you to share if you weren’t ready.

Suddenly, a surge of courage washed over him, pushing aside the hesitation he had felt before. He couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving like this–so sad, so heartbroken.

He refused to let you walk away in this state. He needed to do something, anything, to make you feel better. He wanted to see you smile, to lift the weight off your shoulders. Determination sparked in his chest as he resolved to do whatever it took to brighten your mood, no matter how small the effort.

He gently cupped your chin with his hand, his touch soft and careful as he tilted your head upward, bringing your gaze to meet his.

"You don’t have to go back," he murmured, his voice a quiet whisper, as if only you were meant to hear it.

Your eyes widened in surprise, nearly breaking from their orbits, as you felt the gentle pressure of his hand on your chin, lifting your head.

As soon as your gaze met his, you could feel Hyunjin's breath brushing softly against your lips once again, sending a rush of warmth through you. Your heart skipped a beat, your cheeks flushing with heat at the proximity.

Then the realization of his words hit you like a wave–he wanted you to stay.

And somehow, you wanted to stay too–for him.

You found yourself lost in his shining brown eyes, mesmerized by the glint of determination that sparkled in them. There was something about the way they held your gaze–intense, yet gentle–that made it impossible to look away.

In that moment, his eyes seemed more beautiful than ever, as if they were speaking to you without words, pulling you in with a quiet intensity. You couldn’t tear your gaze from them, captivated by their warmth and depth.

After a brief pause, you finally nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips–this time genuine, free from the sadness that had weighed on you. The tension in your chest seemed to ease just slightly.

"Okay," you said softly, the word filled with a sense of relief. Then, you added, your voice quieter but firm, "But only if you stay with me."

The request hung in the air, an unspoken promise of comfort and companionship, your gaze steady on him as if you were asking for more than just his presence.

You didn’t know Hyunjin that well, not in the way you knew Felix, but there was something undeniable drawing you toward him. It wasn’t just the way he looked at you, or the softness in his voice–it was the way he made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things could be different and that made you want to forget everything else.

There was an unspoken connection between you, something that felt right despite the uncertainty. You couldn’t quite explain it, but in that moment, all you wanted was to have fun with him, to spend the night–your School Prom–as his date.

The thoughts of Junseo and Yuwon faded completely from your mind, replaced by the warmth of Hyunjin’s presence and the simple desire to enjoy the rest of the evening with him.

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat when you agreed to stay, and when you added that he had to stay with you, a wave of overwhelming happiness washed over him. He hadn’t expected your forwardness, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. After all, he had no intention of leaving your side.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the expression genuine and warm. His hand, which had been resting gently on your chin, moved instinctively to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender and lingering for just a moment longer than it should've.

"I wouldn’t leave you alone even if you asked me to," Hyunjin chuckled lightly, the sound warm and carefree. His brown eyes never left yours, their intensity only growing as he spoke. "You’re stuck with me now." His words were playful, but there was an undeniable sense of something deeper.

His words made your heart flutter, the playful tone carrying a hint of something more, almost as if he was flirting with you. The thought brought a small, knowing smile to your lips, and for a moment, you didn’t mind it at all.

But then, a sudden thought crept into your mind, causing your smile to falter slightly. Didn’t he have a date? You couldn’t imagine someone as handsome as him coming to the Prom alone. The idea left you feeling uncertain, wondering what exactly his intentions were in staying by your side.

"Don't you... have a date?" you asked, a hint of skepticism in your tone.

You couldn’t help but wonder, the question hanging between you both. If it turned out that he did have a date, you didn’t want to intrude on whatever plans he had.

You certainly didn’t want to cause the same pain you had just gone through to his date, not wanting to be the reason someone else felt left behind. The thought made your chest tighten, but you forced yourself to wait for his response, hoping for clarity.

Hyunjin froze for a moment at your words, his eyes widening slightly as if caught off guard. But then, to ease your concern, a soft, reassuring smile spread across his lips. He shook his head gently, the warmth in his expression making you feel a little lighter.

It was a little embarrassing for him to admit, but Hyunjin didn’t have a date. Several girls had asked him out to be their partner for this special day, but he had always politely declined. His interest had always been focused on you, though he never had the courage to express it.

When he heard that you were coming with someone else, he decided to attend alone, though he did have his group of friends and their dates for company.

"No, I swear I don't have a date," Hyunjin said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. He sighed softly, his tone turning more serious. "I'm not some kind of jerk to ask someone out and then dump them." There was a hint of annoyance in his voice, though it wasn’t directed at you. It was clear his frustration was aimed at the guy you came with.

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine feeling behind his words. His emotions were real, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the honesty in them.

But you blinked a few times, processing what he had just said–he really didn’t have a date. The curiosity of why lingered in the back of your mind, but you didn’t want to push him further, so you let it go.

Without thinking too much about it, you reached out and took Hyunjin's hand in yours, your fingers lacing together naturally. A big grin spread across your red lips as you looked up at him.

"Well then, let's go have some fun!" you said, your excitement returning in full force. You tugged him toward the dance floor, your heart fluttering with the anticipation of enjoying the night, this time with your newest date by your side.

Hyunjin's heart thudded rapidly in his chest as your smaller hand slipped into his, the warmth of your touch sending a rush of energy through him.

His eyes widened in surprise when you suddenly pulled him along, but before he could process it, a chuckle escaped his lips. He couldn’t help but smile at the surge of enthusiasm that radiated from you. Matching your pace, he admired you quietly, feeling a sense of contentment as the two of you made your way toward the dance floor. Your energy was definitely contagious.

~~~

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, the world outside the gym windows darkened, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and stars. You weren’t sure of the time, but you guessed it was around 11 PM. You hadn’t bothered to check the clock, too absorbed in the fun you were having with Hyunjin.

As the night wore on, some students trickled out, heading home, but not you. You and Hyunjin remained on the dance floor, lost in the rhythm and laughter, completely immersed in the moment.

You and Hyunjin had just returned to the dance floor after taking a break to grab some snacks and drinks. Between bites and sips, you had spent the time talking, sharing stories, and exchanging little details about each other.

Laughter and playful jokes filled the air, and every time you smiled, it was impossible to stop. You didn't even try to hide it. He just had that effect on you. You found yourself regretting the time spent chasing after Junseo, realizing now how much you had missed by not getting to know Hyunjin sooner.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was floating on cloud nine. He was beyond happy to be the one to make you smile, to spend these precious moments with you. This was everything he had longed for, and it was finally happening.

But despite the joy in his heart, a feeling of uncertainty still gnawed at him. He knew he couldn’t keep hiding his feelings forever. The only problem was, he had no idea how to tell you.

The energetic song you and Hyunjin had been dancing to came to an end, leaving you both breathless and giggling. Your heart still raced from the fast movements you just did, but the atmosphere shifted quickly.

The bright, colorful lights from the disco ball above began to dim, casting a softer glow over the room. The sudden change in lighting gave the space a more intimate, peaceful feel. Then, a slow, calming melody began to fill the air, the soft rhythm echoing through the room.

It was a stark contrast to the lively song before, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow down, the music pulling you both into a serene moment together.

"Alright, students," came the voice of one of the female teachers over the microphone, breaking through the soft melody. "The Prom is coming to an end, and midnight will be here soon. For the last song, we prepared something slower... and quite romantic." Her voice was warm, carrying a sense of finality. "We hope you all had fun at this event, and we wish you the best of luck on your upcoming exams and graduation." There was a brief pause before she added, "Please, enjoy this song."

The room fell into a hushed anticipation as the music gently swirled through the speakers, inviting everyone to savor the final moments of the night.

You listened intently as the teacher spoke, but once she finished, your attention shifted back to Hyunjin.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you saw him bowing dramatically, one hand placed behind his back while the other was extended toward you. "May I have this dance, M'lady?" His voice was smooth, playful, with a hint of charm.

As he glanced up at you, his sparkling brown eyes met yours, and a delicate yet flirtatious smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Your heart did somersaults at his gesture, the warmth of his charm sending a rush of heat to your cheeks. They flushed pink at the sight of his smile, and for a moment, you felt like you were in some sort of fairy tale.

A light chuckle escaped your lips, caught by the magic of the moment. This was definitely a side of Hyunjin you thoroughly enjoyed. His playful yet earnest demeanor had you feeling both flustered and happy.

With a playful smile, you raised the sides of your dress, curtsying just like the princesses in the legends from your childhood. You could feel the soft fabric of your gown brushing against your legs as you did so, making the moment feel almost magical.

You then extended your hand to him, stepping closer with a grin. "Of course, mister," you replied, your voice light and teasing. The warmth in his eyes grew as he accepted your hand, the closeness between you both now undeniable.

Soon enough Hyunjin's free hand slid to your waist, his grip firm, as he drew you closer, your bodies mere inches apart. His other hand remained securely entwined with yours, a silent yet powerful connection.

As your chest brushed against his, your breath caught, his warmth seeping into you while the alluring, musky undertone of his cologne filled the air between you. Your free hand instinctively found his shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you tilted your head to meet his gaze. This moment was spellbinding and utterly unforgettable.

The two of you began to sway effortlessly to the rhythm, moving in perfect harmony as the music filled the gym. Couples circled around, but your focus stayed solely on him.

The closeness was intoxicating, a mix of overwhelming and magnetic. Each step brought you closer, your heart pounding relentlessly in your chest as if in sync with the melody. Every glance, every subtle movement felt electric, pulling you deeper into the moment.

As the two of you swayed to the music, you felt a sudden shift in the air. There was something about Hyunjin's gaze that felt different, more intense than before. You caught him staring at you, his eyes fixed on you with a depth that made your heart flutter in an almost thrilling way. The intensity of his gaze sent a small shiver down your spine.

You raised an eyebrow, silently asking what was going on, and he responded with a quiet chuckle. His lips curled into a soft smile, as if amused by your reaction, but there was something in his eyes that made you wonder what he was truly thinking.

"You know..." He began, his tone soft but carrying a certain warmth. "I didn't get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look really beautiful, gorgeous even." Hyunjin's voice took on a more low and smooth edge, the hint of flirtation unmistakable.

You felt a rush of hotness spread across your cheeks at his words, your heart fluttering in your chest. You definitely weren't used to hearing such compliments.

His hand, which had been holding yours, slowly moved down to your waist, the shift in his touch sending a thrill through you. Now both of his hands were holding you, his grip firm but gentle, guiding you in the dance.

Instinctively, you moved your hands to wrap around his neck, your fingers brushing the back of it as you held on tighter. The closeness between you both heightened, and the world outside seemed to fade away as you shared this quiet, intimate moment, the soft rhythm of the music enveloping you completely.

Your gaze shifted over Hyunjin, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander, not even trying to hide your admiration. It wasn’t the first time you’d noticed how handsome he was, but tonight, under the soft glow of the lights, he seemed even more irresistible than usual.

His deep blue suit shirt complemented his frame perfectly, the crisp material contrasting nicely with the white t-shirt beneath it. His pants, a matching deep blue, hugged his legs just right, and the tie wrapped around his neck only added to his polished look. His feet were outfitted in sleek black formal boots, adding a touch of elegance to his appearance. And the little gold earrings in his ears? They seemed made just for him, giving him an effortless charm.

You couldn’t help but smile, the flirtatious energy between you two sparking within you. Leaning in slightly, you met his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself tonight, you know?" The words flowed smoothly from your lips, and the mischievous smile on your face matched the teasing tone in your voice. You were matching his energy, savoring the warmth and connection between you both.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, completely captivated by your sudden shift in energy. The flirty words, the mischievous smile, and that playful glint in your eyes–everything about you was driving him wild.

He had always known you were intriguing, but this new side of you was making his heart race faster. He couldn't help but like it. It fueled the nervous excitement in him and, for a brief moment, pushed him closer to confessing what he’d been holding back for so long.

His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you even closer. The tiny gap between you seemed too much, and despite the impossibility of closing it completely, he did his best to bridge it.

He leaned in, his face mere inches from yours, his breath brushing against your lips. The playful glint in his eyes mirrored yours, intense and full of longing. He hummed lowly, his voice soft but teasing as he tilted his head slightly. "Oh really?" The words were thick with both curiosity and something deeper.

The air between you began to grow with intensity, each second stretching as you stood there, so close to him. Your heart hammered in your chest, racing in a way it had never before. His face was so near, his breath ghosting over your lips, his body practically surrounding you.

The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't tear your gaze away from his lips, the soft curve of them, so inviting. They were so close, just a breath away, and you could almost feel the pulse of his heartbeat in the air between you.

You nodded slowly, your eyes darkening with an unspoken desire that spoke louder than any words could. The silent exchange between you both felt heavier, filled with anticipation. Something deeper was shifting in the air, and you could feel it pulling you towards him even more that it had before, a magnetic force that neither of you could deny.

Finally, Hyunjin leaned even closer, closing the gap between you both that felt so suffocating in this moment. His lips meet yours in a matter of seconds, you felt his fingers twitch slightly at your waist. Your eyes immediately fluttered close at the sensation, your whole being tingling with giddiness.

At first the kiss was soft, tentative, almost a bit hesitant. He was scared that he would do something wrong and push you away. But you quickly got into the mood, not pulling back, just savoring the moment.

Soon enough the kiss became something deeper, passionate, more exhilarating. Your lips moved in perfect sync, as if they belonged to each other since the very beginning. His lips were so soft, so tasty, you couldn't get enough. And he felt the same way about you.

One of your hands wandered from his neck to his brown hair, tugging at the soft, fluffy locks. Hyunjin let out a quiet groan, clearly enjoying what you did. His thumbs traced slow patterns on your waist, more than happy enjoying this beautiful connection. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, making you weak in the knees.

The fact that you were around other students, other people dancing that could see your little makeout session didn't bother the both of you at all. All that mattered now was only your shared intimate moment.

Hyunjin softly bit your lip before he reculantly pulled away, needing to catch his breath.

He leaned his forehead gently against yours, his breath still heavy as he placed a hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb over your skin.

Both of you stood there for a moment, catching your breaths, your lips swollen and faces flushed from the intensity of the kiss. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, a quiet understanding hanging in the silence.

The soft, calming music continued to play in the background, but it felt distant, almost irrelevant. You were on cloud nine, completely lost in the moment. This was your first ever kiss, and it had surpassed your every expectation.

It was everything you had dreamed of and more–magical, intoxicating, and perfect in every way. Your heart was still racing, your body buzzing with the sensation of his touch, of his lips on yours. You couldn't help but smile, your mind replaying the kiss over and over, not quite believing how wonderful it had been.

Your fingers lingered in his hair, still slightly tangled from the kiss. Gently, you tried to smooth it out, fixing the strands that had been mussed in the heat of the moment. It was a small, intimate gesture, but one that felt natural, as if you'd done it a hundred times before.

His hair was soft beneath your touch, the warmth of his scalp sending a pleasant shiver through your fingertips as you carefully worked to return it to its neat style.

Hyunjin couldn't help but chuckle at your gentle touch, the sensation of your fingers in his hair soothing him in a way he cherished very much. In that moment, he realized just how much deeper his feelings for you had grown.

Every little movement, every glance, only made him fall even more in love with you. The warmth of your presence, the tenderness in your touch, it all felt so natural, like it was meant to be. He couldn't help but smile to himself, feeling completely at peace with the moment, knowing that this connection was something special.

After a moment of silence, Hyunjin gently pulled his forehead away from yours, his eyes lingering on your face for a heartbeat longer. He seemed to be wrestling with his thoughts, as if battling the nerves that were threatening to hold him back.

He took a deep breath, his chest rising trying to steady the rush of emotions that surged within him. His hand, still resting on your cheek, began to tremble slightly as the weight of the moment pressed down on him. He couldn’t wait any longer. If he didn’t say it now, if he didn’t let the words out, he knew he might never have the courage again.

His eyes flickered between yours, searching for the right words, but finally, he just let go of the hesitation. It was now or never.

Hyunjin’s voice shook slightly, a nervous edge to it as he spoke. "I guess that after this it's time for me to finally say the truth, huh?"

He swallowed, his chest rising and falling a little faster than normal. You could tell that he was searching for the right words, doubt flashing in his eyes.

Your fingers stopped moving through his hair, the touch instinctively pausing as you sensed the shift in the atmosphere.

Slowly, you let your hands drop to his torso, wrapping both of them around his waist, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric of his suit. You looked up at him with curiosity in your eyes, not entirely sure where this was going. But the moment was undeniably intimate, and you could sense that whatever he was about to say was important.

Hyunjin took a deep breath once more, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at you. His fingers lightly brushed against your cheek, but his gaze remained locked with yours, a mixture of nervousness and hesitation in his eyes.

"I... I’ve been wanting to tell you this for so long," he continued, his voice steadying. "The truth is, I’ve liked you for a long time. More than just a friend, more than just someone I hang out with... I really like you, Y/N. I could even say that... I love you."

Your eyes widened at his confession, the words hitting you like a wave, and for a moment, you couldn't quite process them. Shock coursed through you, making your heart race as you searched his face for any sign of hesitation. But as the seconds passed, the surprise began to fade, and a different feeling took its place.

Why have you been shocked? It made sense now. After everything that had happened between you both today it was clear. He wouldn’t have kissed you like that if he didn’t feel something for you. And just as the realization hit, another followed swiftly behind it. You felt something for him too.

The warmth from his kiss still lingered on your lips, and you couldn't ignore the way your heart quickened so many times today thanks to him. The connection, the chemistry–it was all there. You knew it.

Hyunjin watched your expression carefully, noting the shock that flickered across your face. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest as a long silence settled between you both. The words he had said hung in the air, and a sudden wave of doubt washed over him. Was he making a mistake? Was it too soon? He felt vulnerable, but he couldn't turn back now.

Swallowing his nerves, he spoke again, his voice quieter but more determined. "I've always watched you from a distance, ever since Lix introduced you to us. And my feelings for you grew stronger and stronger every time we hung out with the others," he admitted, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "I knew you liked that Junseo guy, that you've been chasing him for years, and I couldn't bring myself to confess, I was too scared. I didn't want to embarrass myself by telling you how I felt, only to get rejected." He paused, biting his lip, slowly gathering his courage before continuing. "But I can't keep it inside anymore. I can't hide it from you forever."

His gaze was serious now, but there was a raw sincerity in his words. The weight of the confession hung heavily between you both, and he waited, his heart in his throat, for your response.

You couldn't stop a tender, affectionate smile from forming on your lips, the depth of your feelings for him radiating through you. His nervousness was endearing, and oddly amusing. He had been so unsure, but now, he didn't need to worry.

Gently, you took his hand, the one that had been resting on your cheek, and intertwined your fingers with his. The touch felt so right, as if your hands had always belonged together. The other hand remained resting on his waist, just as his was on yours, grounding you both in this moment. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, a silent reassurance.

"You don't have to hide it anymore, nor worry about that guy," you whispered softly, your eyes shining with certainty. "Because now, I'm all yours."

Before he could react, before his mind could catch up with your words, you closed the space between you. Your lips pressed against his once more, a kiss that sealed your unspoken bond, marking the beginning of something deeper between you both.

What had started as the worst night of your life, with disappointment, hurt and confusion, had turned into the most unforgettable one. In Hyunjin, you found not only someone who had silently cared for you but someone who would now be by your side. The night had turned magical, and in his arms, you found something precious–something you never expected but always needed.

[sarnai4]

Helloo!!! I love your posts about the gods, like them going to the movies, so I wanted to know what do you think their love language would be?

Aw! Thanks so much🥰🥰🥰! That's a fun question! Let me see🤔...

Athena: Demonstration. She's a practical goddess, so she won't just SAY she love you. She needs to give indisputable proof that she can take to court and win a case with. After the 1000th time she gets someone their favorite books and/or weapon, she thinks it's pretty obvious. If you get a new blanket or sweater from her, she really loves you. She never even has to (shudder) hug someone.

Ares: Protection. Does somebody need a skull bashed in? No? Well...it might happen anyway if he thinks that it'll keep his loved ones safe. It's a little scary, but it's really coming from a good place. If he knows someone's going to be in a dangerous place, he just sorta becomes a shadow that they can't shake. (He'd secretly love to give hugs, but the last time he tried with someone who wasn't Aphrodite, it was misinterpreted and he got punched. [cough cough] Blame a sibling)

Demeter: Gifts. She will load somebody up with baskets of her best harvest. You seriously don't know if she loves you or wants you to pop from overeating, but it's the former. The harvest is really pretty too. Only the ripest of everything. Persephone has learned to hide apples in her sleeves so that it still looks like it's all been eaten.

Aphrodite: Everything. Just everything. She uses words of affirmation, gifts, physical affection, etc. Her favorite is definitely physical, though, so whether it's romantic or platonic, EVERYBODY is getting hugs and at least a kiss on the cheek. She does not care if she gets chased down because of this. It's worth it. :D

Hades: Goes outside. Now, that might seem minor, but actually getting him to leave the Underworld for minutes, nay, HOURS at a time is a feat. That's the fastest way for somebody to know they're loved by him. He doesn't even look at his watch or seem fidgety.

Apollo: Free medical advice. Sooo much. Do you know how much blood or ichor you can lose within a 48-hour period before losing consciousness? You. Will. You'll also know about health advice like what foods are best for your diet. (P.S. this is why all the junk food got swapped out for fruits and veggies)

Hestia: Food. Specifically, the food that the loved one wants. She doesn't care how elaborate it is and will bake up a storm. Each layer is an extra piece of love. It's why there's a cake the size of the Eiffel Tower somewhere around here.

Hermes: Travel. He'll fly his loved ones places to make it faster trips. It's always a little dangerous, but luckily, most of the loved ones are immortal. So, his attempt to get them places at break-neck speed will not actually break their necks. For the mortals...it's the thought that counts.

Hephaestus: Repairs. He does this to the point of also making new things. On a related note, he breaks into ' homes so that he can do the repairs. Now, there are a bunch of inventions all over the place that no one has rooms for.

Zeus: Quality time. He's not even thinking about all those cuties he saw the other day...much. Still, that's a really big improvement and him mostly giving his undivided attention is how he shows his love. Of course, he's probably spending this time talking about himself, but he's paying attention to someone else while he's talking about himself. Progress!

Artemis: She's a stray cat. She hunts, then brings carcasses over. Nobody really wants a bunny head on their bed. Some even cry a little when that happens, but hey, at least it means they’re loved.

Poseidon: Horseback rides. On him specifically. They always think he's going to let them have a nice time sailing. Nope, he prefers this. They sort of think it's weird, but they try to not complain when he goes full mane and tail on them.

Hera: Critiques suggestions. Constantly. But they're motherly critiques, so they sometimes help a whole lot and other times, they drive everybody up the wall. Just flip an obol and see what you get.

Dionysus: Theater tickets with backstage passes and everything. Less than half of his loved ones actually want to go to any of these, but now, they feel obligated. He doesn't know that. Soon, there'll be more features to these passes that just take extra time.

[pretend-i-have-a-decent-url]

Amidst everyone’s complaints about the AMA (because I have seen almost nothing but complaints), I haven’t really seen anyone bring up Epler’s apparent desire to take the series ‘beyond the sea’ and explore what’s outside Thedas, so I’d just like to take this opportunity to say that if the next protagonist travels any farther beyond thedas than par vollen, I am going to become a seething maelstrom of rage

[triglycercule]

I love reading your tags section

thank you qin-qin16 its where i do one of the things i do moderately well: YAP ‼️‼️‼️😁😁😁😁😁🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏✨✨✨✨

[swordmaid]

is there any handbooks or whatnot on what the half illithid state would give or is that just a bg3 thing but anyway in my interpretation I imagine it literally opens up shri’iia’s mind and now her senses are heightened, she’s so hyper aware of everything and she probably can see shrimp colours. i also think the language barrier falls apart too, and she’s able to speak freely in common or whatever language like it’s her own and I think it’s def easier for her to infiltrate anyone’s mind and communicate telepathically like a mindflayer does. the illithid powers comes easier too, and she performs it as if she has already done it a thousand times since there’s no need for practice ; it feels as if it’s innate and the temptation to unlock more of this power and develop herself further is so very present since she’s aware she’s barely scratching the surface of what this newfound form offers. what more could she do if she embraced this form? how great could she be? but then her more human side would come back and she’d find herself more disturbing. the insecurity over this new form would return as well as the regret since she was barely finding her own self before, now she’s lost it again.

[deadrlngers]

no but thinking of violante's manic state following her murder of ruven and that sick game of association-replacement played by gortash where he acts just like ruven did, picks up some of his behaviours and mannerisms and speech patterns he specifically used with violante and that he knows of well bc he observed and studied them interact, so that he can fill up the now empty spot left by ruven's death.

[patches-of-thistle]

battling my inner demons bantering over an unintentional argument i had earlier to muster up the courage to open discord again in the second half of the day

[cabin-fever-collective]

sources are a weird ass thing im definitely canon compliant. very compliant. to the point ive scared some of our friends by acting accurate to shit we havent witnessed in source yet. but god damn being a fictive of a very well known fandom is so goddamn surreal. when i first showed up here- in our brain, in this world or whatever the hell you wanna call it- i was greeted with strangers saying hi, greeting me like an old friend. people i didnt know knew my name and things about me that i wasnt even sure of. made jokes about parts of my life that i didnt know anyone knew about. it fuckin threw me off. it still throws me off. people know me when i show my face. people talk to me familiarly or bring up my source. dont get me wrong its pretty sweet, if i hated it id just change my name or some shit. if i gave enough of a shit id hide who i am. but its a little surreal. by this point im so used to the expectation of people knowin me that it confuses me when they dont. and thats fucking weird isnt it. imagine walkin into some group of people and opening your mouth and everyone just goes 'oh hey dude'. youre sitting here racking your brain trying to find out where youve met all these people. how you couldve plausibly met all these people as they include you in the chat and you come up with nothin. you dont know em. but they know you. intricately. its damn weird. feels kinda like a pressure to be me. which isnt a bad thing i dont hate bein me, but. there are parts of me i know arent what they want of me. theres this underlying knowledge that theyre makin assumptions about me because of who i am and what they know. its like i can feel the cogs in their brain grease up and fire off with the knowledge we both know in our head. that youre expectin something of me and i know that aint me. im compliant but im not perfect. as fun as it is to have a well known source it also feels kinda fucked up. people expect a lot outta me and im just me. ill never stop bein just *me*. whether thats compliant or not isnt my problem, but i can *feel* the expectations and assumptions about me and my life. the jokes shot off by strangers. the comments about material i know about but man thats me. im just me. nothing more nothing less. im just a guy. a kid doin his best out here. i dont know how i feel about being 'famous'.