#day 29: pajamas

[atlabeth]

time’s blur - ialwbty au

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader but this primarily features percy jackson & sister!reader

summary: somehow, someway, you come back.

a/n: wow it has been a while hasn't it!! 148 days to be exact!! im always thinking about these two in the corner of my mind and ive been wanting to write this au since i got an ask about it, originally i was going to do it all as a big long one shot but i just want to get something out lol. and this will give me more freedom to do wte i want with this au instead of just having one big one shot and leaving it. anyways enjoy there is actually some fluff for once but still some emotional damage and there is more to come!! also reader is 19 and percy is 15

wc: 3.5k

warning(s): hurricane dies but she has come back!! told through percy's pov. angst, hurt/comfort, signature percy jackson guilt, but some fluffy sibling moments<3

Percy doesn’t end up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning out of instinct, foresight, or any kind of divine ‘chosen one’ intervention. 

He ends up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning because some Apollo kid was hooking up with an Ares kid on the beach, and they found you. 

They found you, not Percy. He didn’t even have a clue until he woke up to Chiron in his cabin.

Percy had had his fair share of rude awakenings over the years, usually because of horrific demigod prophetic dreams, but the expression on Chiron’s face immediately alerted Percy that something was wrong, even through his groggy haze. 

“Chiron?” he rasps, and he sits up as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He has to make sure he’s not still dreaming. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, Percy,” he says. “But I need you to come with me.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is everyone okay? Is camp okay? Is there an invasion?” 

“Nothing so ghastly,” Chiron says. Though his tone is a bit lighter, it still doesn’t ease Percy’s concerns. “But it does concern you.” 

“Great,” Percy mumbles, and he pulls himself out of bed. Normally he would have the foresight to change, but a part of him is still worried that Christmas has come early and Kronos has already invaded the city. 

So he follows Chiron—with all the sneaking around he’s done since getting to camp, it’s strange to be out this late and not have to worry about being eaten alive—clad in flannel pajama pants, a Yankee’s tee, and Converse he didn’t get the chance to fully lace up. 

“You’d tell me if something was wrong,” Percy says, glancing up at him. “Right?” 

“Of course,” he nods. “I wouldn’t classify this as something going wrong. Just… rather shocking.” 

“Great,” he repeats. “Are you going to tell me?” 

Chiron is silent for a moment, and Percy frowns. “Now I’m really worried.” 

“I suppose it’s best to rip the bandage off,” Chiron says. He stops right outside the Big House and lets out a sigh. “An hour ago, a girl was found on the beach. She looked as if she’d been washed ashore.” 

Percy’s frown deepens. “What? Gods— is she okay?” 

“Yes,” Chiron says. “I checked her over for injuries, but she only had some minor bruises. No water in her lungs, somehow.” 

“That’s crazy,” he says. “How could someone even wash up here? Even with demigods— don’t we have protections against that?” 

“All of this makes me believe there was some… divine intervention,” Chiron says slowly. “Especially with who she is.” 

Percy crosses his arms. “You’re making this sound like a huge deal. Who is she?”

“Percy,” Chiron says, soft but firm, “it’s your sister. Somehow, she’s come back to life.” 

And for a second, all he can do is stare. 

“What?” 

“I could never forget her face,” he says. “Or the presence of a child of Poseidon.” 

Percy shakes his head. “No, Chiron— if this is a joke, it’s not funny.” He huffs a mirthless laugh and looks down at his hands. “And if this is a shitty dream, then it’s really shitty.” 

“Perseus, this is real,” he states. 

He’s still shaking his head. “How can it be real? She’s dead— she’s been dead for years.”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Mr. D has already gone back to Olympus to figure it out. But if I had to guess, your father decided to meddle.”

He wants to call it a lie. Honestly, he wants to punch Chiron for getting his hopes up about something like this. But deep down, Percy knows he’s telling the truth. 

“Can I see her?” he asks. “Is— is she okay? Does she know who she is?”

“In time,” Chiron says. “I cannot be sure, but it doesn’t look like she remembers anything from her life.” 

Percy shakes his head again. It doesn’t feel real. He’s imagined what it would feel like to meet you since the moment Luke told him about you, but he knew it could never happen. 

But now, all that stands between Percy and his sister is a few doors. 

“I want to see her,” he says.

“Of course,” Chiron nods. “I just need to make sure it won’t mess with her further. This isn’t like Thalia coming back with the fleece—though I have suspicions, I can’t be sure how this happened. It could be a very delicate matter.” 

“As long as it doesn’t hurt her more.” 

Chiron nods again and he opens the door to the Big House. He follows him up to his office door, then stops when Chiron gestures at the couch. 

“I just need to discuss a few more things with her.” 

Percy nods wordlessly and sits down, then Chiron disappears into his office. 

A million things are running through Percy’s mind, namely guilt. 

Shouldn’t he have been the one to find you? 

Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but it’s you. 

You’re his sister. He’s always had a connection to you, even when you were gone—gods, the night after he found out you existed you appeared in his dreams. Percy’s spent almost every moment since he found out about you wishing you were still here, that he could meet you, and when it finally does happen—somehow, because he still doesn’t understand what the fuck went on for this to happen—he’s not even the one to find you? He’s just asleep like every other night?

He huffs a sigh as he hunches over, his forearms on his knees. His leg bounces up and down at a rapid pace, moving his entire body with it, but this is one time he can’t lay his ADHD to rest. He’s more surprised he isn’t up pacing the entire room for the hundredth time. 

If Percy feels like this, he can’t even imagine how you must feel. To come back for seemingly no reason with no memories, after four years in Elysium. 

Luke said you’d been killed by a monster. You were buried like any other person. 

You were gone.

But you just… came back.  

He lets out another harried sigh and falls back against the couch. He’s exhausted, but there’s no chance of him being able to go back to sleep. Not with you around. 

Suddenly, the door opens, and Percy instantly darts up from his seat. You walk out with Chiron and it’s almost surreal.

You look like all the pictures, all his dreams, just older—more mature. He wants to cry and scream and hug you all at once. 

Your eyes widen slightly, and you glance at Chiron for a moment before you focus back on Percy.

“Uh— sorry,” he says, wincing a bit. He doesn’t know how to act around you, not when he knows you but you don’t know him. “I waited for you. I thought it would be good to have someone on the other side.” 

“That’s really nice,” you murmur. “I… I see why. Word on the street is that you’re my brother.” 

Percy nods way too many times. “Yeah. Uh— yeah. We’re both children of—” 

He pauses, his gaze moving past you to Chiron. He has to have explained all this to you, right? 

“Poseidon,” you finish, and you let out a slightly shaky laugh. “Chiron laid out all the basics.” 

“This has all got to be really confusing,” he says. “I remember how lost I was when I first got to camp, and I didn’t even…” 

“Die?” you ask wryly. He nods again. He really can’t finish any sentence around you—he’s so worried of saying the wrong thing and accidentally hurting you. Percy doesn’t know how any of this works.

“It’s strange,” you admit. “I… I lived this whole life before this, and I don’t even remember any of it.”

Percy’s heart clenches painfully. He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain everything to you when you start remembering. 

When you start remembering Luke. 

“Really?” he asks. “There’s nothing?”

You shake your head. “I have my name, but that’s all. And…”

Percy frowns. “What?”

You pause for a moment before you shake your head again. “Nothing. This is just…”

“Weird?” 

You nod with a slight laugh. “Yeah. To say the least.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the first person to come back to life,” Percy says. “Uh, a girl named Thalia used to be a tree before she was turned back into a human.”

You frown. “Wow.”

“We can get to all of that some other day,” Chiron thankfully interrupts. “Percy, will you take her back to your cabin?”

“You’re sure we won’t get eaten by the harpies?” Percy asks. “Aello is out for my blood.”

“I promise,” Chiron says. He glances at you, your frown noticeably deeper, and he looks back at Percy. “Perhaps we should, ah, hold off on this sort of discussion. Until tomorrow, at least.”

“Of course,” Percy says. “Sorry. You must be exhausted.” 

“A little,” you admit. “Apparently coming back to life takes it out of you.” 

“Come back here first thing in the morning,” Chiron says. “We have… quite a bit to talk about.” 

“That’s an understatement,” you murmur. 

Percy smiles a bit, and he gestures with his head for you to follow him. You do, and Chiron goes back into his office. He nabs a bag of ambrosia squares from an empty bedside as the two of you go through the infirmary just to be safe, and when he glances back at you he sees you frowning. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Does anything hurt?” 

“You’re a Yankees fan?” you say instead. 

Percy blinks, then he realizes you’re looking at his shirt. “Uh— yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m from New York, and my mom loves them, so…” he tugs at his shirt. “I know you like the Red Sox. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “We can’t all be perfect.” 

Percy can’t help but smile. You died and came back to life, and you remember nothing but your name and your love for the Boston Red Sox. 

“That means you keep up with baseball, right?” 

“When I can,” he says. “We don’t really have technology out here.” 

“Have the Red Sox won a world series since I’ve been gone?” 

“They won last year, actually.”

Your eyes widen and you instantly grin. “Really?”

He nods. “They beat the Cardinals.”

“That— that’s huge!” you exclaim. “Oh my god, they broke the curse and I didn’t get to see it? This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“You know you died, right?”

“And look how well that worked out for me.” You shake your head. “I need to go to the library or something and find some footage.”

“As much as I would love to do that,” Percy says, “we have a few other things we have to focus on.”

You huff and shake your head. “Fine. But as soon as we figure all this out, I’m figuring out some way to see those games.” 

Percy chuckles. “I don’t think anyone’ll deny you that.” 

“Good.” 

Silence settles over the two of you as you walk back to the Poseidon cabin, and Percy just feels awkward. 

He always thought about what he would say to you if he finally got to see you again, and now you’re alive somehow and right next to him and he has no idea what to do. 

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Percy finally decides on. “Chiron said you just washed up on shore.” 

“I feel surprisingly okay,” you say. “All I remember is waking up at the bottom of the lake. I thought I was going to drown, so I kicked my way up, and then got to shore.” You shake your head. “Somehow, I didn’t drown. My clothes weren’t even wet. I’ve got to be the luckiest person out there.” 

“You’re a child of Poseidon,” he says. “We can’t breathe underwater so we can’t drown, and our clothes don’t get wet unless we want them to.” 

“Like I said,” you incline your head, “luckiest person out there.” 

“I just don’t get why you’re back,” Percy says. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are. I just don’t understand how, or why— or why now.” 

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re not able to get any words out before a yawn interrupts it. 

“Maybe that’s a tomorrow problem,” you say. 

“I think you’re right,” Percy says. He opens the door to the camp store and you follow him inside, but you frown. 

“What is this?” 

“The camp store,” he says. “You don’t really have anything, so I wanted to get you some things.” 

You just stare as he starts taking things. “You’re just… stealing?” 

“Just a couple toiletries and some clothing,” he says. “They won’t miss it.” He stashes it all in a Camp Halfblood tote bag and holds it out to you, and though you’re a bit hesitant, you still take it. 

“Thanks,” you say. “We won’t get in trouble?” 

“I think everyone will cut you some slack for a while,” Percy says. “A guy did this for me my first day and it helps—makes you feel more at home.” 

You hum, and this time you open the door for Percy. “Nice guy.” 

Percy swallows the sudden lump in his throat, trying to ignore the chill that trickles down his spine as he realizes the implications of his words. 

“Yeah,” Percy mutters. “He was.” 

Eventually, the two of you get back to the Poseidon cabin. He opens the door for you and you slowly walk inside. 

Again, it’s strange that you’re here. It’s like if a piece of his history textbook suddenly came to life and started walking around—he’s heard so much about you, imagined what he thought would be an impossible meeting so many times, but now that it’s actually happening he doesn’t know what to do. 

And it hits even more as you walk over to a picture of yourself hanging on the wall, surrounded by a myriad of others. 

It’s one of many of you and Luke, him holding you close with an arm slung around your shoulder as you beam at the camera with the brightest smile imaginable. Before Luke got his scar, before you died, before he went off the deep end. 

“I put a couple of your pictures up,” Percy rushes to explain, his throat feeling scratchy, “and a few of your old things. As— as a way to remember you.”

“I love it,” you say, and the tension dissolves in his shoulders when he sees your smile. It really is so much brighter in person. “I— I can’t believe I don’t remember any of this.”

“We’ll figure out a way to get it back,” Percy says. “I promise.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say idly as you continue to take all the pictures in. He can’t imagine what it must feel like to see all these memories of a past life you have no recollection of. 

“I don’t,” he says. “We’re gonna figure it out.”

You’re silent for a while as you keep looking at them. Then you take one of the pictures off the wall, the one of you and Luke at a baseball game. 

“Luke,” you murmur, as if you don’t realize you’re saying it out loud. You blink, then you turn to Percy. “His name is Luke, isn’t it?”

He nods, almost in disbelief. You don’t remember a damn thing about your old life but you know Luke’s name.

How is Percy supposed to tell you what he did? 

You laugh softly as you trail your nail over the edge. “We must’ve been pretty close if I got him to go to a Red Sox game.” You look over at Percy. “Does he go here too?”

After a moment, Percy shakes his head. “He— uh, he used to.”

“Makes sense,” you murmur, and you put the picture back on the wall. “I got the easy way out. Everyone else had to deal with the fallout.”

Percy frowns. “You were killed by a monster. I don’t think anyone considers that the easy way out.” 

“It kinda was,” you say with a shrug. “I— I don’t remember much about it, but Chiron said I was in Elysium. There aren’t any monsters down there, and there certainly aren’t any responsibilities.”

“Well,” Percy sits down on his bed, “I’m glad you’re here. You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined meeting you.” 

You chuckle. “I didn’t know I was so popular.” 

“I’m serious,” he says. “Poseidon is one of the Big Three, and they made an oath not to have kids. I was the only Big Three kid in general when I got to camp—when I found out about you, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to have a sister to talk about all of this with.” 

Your eyes soften, and you lean against his bed frame. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry about?” 

“I— I don’t know,” you say with a slight laugh. “I just feel bad that I couldn’t be there for you.” 

“You’re already doing a pretty good job at being a big sister,” Percy says wryly. 

“Thanks,” you say. “You’re doing a pretty good job at being a younger brother.” 

Percy laughs and smiles, and you smile too. He’s beginning to understand what Luke always said, about your presence embodying warmth. He’s only been around you for a few minutes and he already feels better. 

“I’ve never had a brother before this,” you say. “So there might be a couple speed bumps.” 

“We’ll get through them together,” Percy says. “Besides, I… I kind of always considered you my sister. Ever since I found out about you, even though you were…” 

“Dead?” you guess, and he winces. You chuckle a bit. “It’s still weird for me, too. Can’t imagine what it must be like for all of you.” 

“Weird,” he says without really thinking. “Really weird. But I’m thankful that you’re back.” 

You smile. “So am I, Percy.” 

You let out another yawn, and you sit down on the bed across from him. “God, what time is it?” 

Percy glances at the clock in the corner. “3:34.” 

You whistle. “I really chose a great time to come back, huh?” 

He chuckles, and he kicks off his shoes as gets up to turn the lights off. “I think some sleep would do us both some good.” 

You nod and do the same. As you lay back, one hand behind your head, you continue to look around the cabin. 

“Are these your band posters?” 

He shakes his head as he sits back down. “They’re yours, actually, but you’ve got good taste. I love Pearl Jam.” 

“I used to have good taste, you mean,” you say wryly. 

“Hey,” he says. “I meant what I told you. We’re gonna get your memories back.” 

“How are you so sure?” 

“I’ve done a lot of impossible things,” Percy says. “And so have you, from what I’ve heard. It’s kind of the Poseidon kid way, honestly.” 

“You’ll have to teach me some things, then.” 

“And when you get your memory back, you’ll have to do the same,” he says. 

You smile and nod. “Deal.” 

Percy smiles too, and he lays down. “You really should try and get some sleep. Chiron wasn’t joking when he said we have a lot to talk about.” He huffs a slight laugh. “Whatever the reason is for you coming back, I guarantee there’s gonna be some people upstairs that are mad about it.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “Upstairs?” 

“Olympus,” he says. “The gods don’t really like things happening out of their control.” 

You hum, and for a moment there’s nothing but silence and the sound of both your breathing. It’s a little strange having someone else here other than Tyson, but he’s thankful for it. 

“What’s gonna happen to me?” you ask. There’s an edge of fear in your voice, and Percy frowns. 

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“Nothing is going to happen,” he repeats. “I’m not going to let anything happen. The gods have already messed with your life enough—they don’t get to do it again.” 

Percy half-expects to hear the sound of thunder echoing across camp, but the silence continues. Maybe Zeus isn’t listening in on him for once, or maybe he just expects the disrespect at this point. 

“I really am the luckiest person,” you say. “I’ve got someone like you looking out for me.” 

“You were looking out for me when you were gone,” he says. “You might not remember, but I could feel it. So I’m just repaying the favor.” 

Again, silence. It’s temporarily interrupted by the sound of sheets shifting, then you speak. 

“I’m really glad I got to meet you, Percy,” you murmur. 

He can’t help but smile, and he tries to ignore the tears beginning to spring in his eyes. He has no idea why you’re back—no idea what this could mean. Maybe your dad did bring you back, maybe it’s a bizarre case like Thalia, maybe you play a part in something that they don’t even know about yet and it's nothing but bad news.

But for once in his life, Percy’s not going to question it. 

You’re alive and you’re here. 

For now, that’s all he needs. 

“Me too,” he whispers.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 29

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You peel off the suit and wring it out. You leave it in the bathroom to dry, but more so you don't need to look at it. You've never been so humiliated in all your life. 

Worse than your mother's bitter grumbles, or the way your grandmother used to nitpick at every part of you was that look in Steve's eyes. It was like nothing you've ever seen before. Not angry, not judging, but something mysterious that unsettled you. 

Ugh. You sneer at the wall as you pull on the baggiest tee shirt you have. You hate yourself. No, you hate your body. No matter what you do, it's clumsy and somehow you get in the way of yourself. 

You shimmy into a pair of pajama shorts and flop onto your bed. You could read but your head won't let you focus. Drawing isn't an option either, you're still shaking from the exposure. 

Sleep. Well, that won't come. Every time you close your eyes, you just see Steve and the water, and your nakedness. You can't imagine what your mother would've said if she'd saw. 

She hadn't, had she? 

You roll over and hide your head under your arm. You just lay there, desperate to escape somehow. The hours wear on, the day shifting around your unmoving form, the stagnant house dampening your skin with sweat.  

When you finally get the strength to flip onto your back, you realise you've been crying. You sniffle and mop your cheeks. You don't know why you're crying. Humiliation, sure, but don't be such a baby. 

You sit up cradle your head until it's a little less fragile. You get to your feet and shuffle out to use the bathroom. You pointedly ignore the pink checkered fabric. 

When you're done, you go to the kitchen. You look in the fridge. Not much there. You take out an old cup of pudding and fish out a spoon. You sit at the table and stir it but don't eat.  

You remember when you were a kid, your grandma would give you tapioca. Your mother only ever got banana. You hate banana pudding. It tastes so artificial. 

You're not a kid anymore. You're realising that now. It's time to be an adult. You don't have a place here anymore. Your mom has Steve and you have... nothing. 

The front door whines on its ungreased hinges. You wince and look up, shove a spoonful into your mouth. 

Steve appears. He has a tee on but still wears his swim shorts. You look at him dully and swallow, scooping up more of the pudding. 

"You hungry? You could have come over for lunch." 

You shrug and keep eating. Your stomach sickens at the overly sweet treat. You want to spit it out. 

"You're still mad?" He asks. 

You shrug again. 

He sighs. He crosses the room and pulls out the chair across from you, "look, sweetie," he twines his fingers through each other as he rests his arms on the table, "I'm real sorry. I was trying to have some fun. I made a mistake. We all do, right?" 

You stare at the table and nod. 

"Right, so can we move past it? Forget it ever happened?" 

"Forget?" You echo in a croak. "Erm." 

"Wiped clean," he unweaves his fingers and makes a smooth motion over the table top. "How about it? Can you forgive me?" 

You let the spoon go and slide the cup aside. You can't look up. It's more than the embarrassment of what happened. It's the constant shame that follows you around. You're just a hanger-on. He doesn't have to keep pretending because of your mom. She deserves to have a life after all the years she wasted on you. A life without you. 

"I'm sorry. I'm... I'm going to find a job and I'll do my best and..." you ramble as you trace your fingers on the table and tilt your head back and forth, "and you won't have to worry about me." 

"Sweetie?" He reaches over to still your hand, "what are you talking about?" 

"I shouldn't be... I shouldn't be living with you. Or mom. You two... I'm in the way--" 

"In the way? Sweetie," he squeezes your hand, "I promise you that's not true." 

"It has to be." 

"Why? Why does that have to be true?" 

"Because no one wants me," you turn your face down but he won't let go of your hand so you can hide. 

"I know that's not true," he insists.  

"It is. You see it. My mom..." you shudder and hold back a sob, "hates me." 

He's quiet. He clings to you even as you try to pull free. "I don't hate you." 

"You barely know me." 

"Sweetie, I know enough. Just enough to know you're a sweet girl. A good girl. All this time you've been taking care of your mom. Not anyone does that, you know? Most people would just leave her behind," he brings his other hand up to pet your knuckles, "and you're considerate and kind and gentle." 

"Please," you wisp and tug on your hand again, "you don't have to--" 

"I want you," he interjects as he tightens his grip, "sweetie, look at me." 

Your eyes flick up, startled by his hold and his tone. 

"You said no one wants you? I do. I shouldn't. I know it. I... I saw the way you take care of Holly, I saw how hard you try, I saw it all and I--" 

He finally lets you go. You recoil, shocked. Your hand tingles and your heart races. He doesn't mean it like that. He can't. You blink and lean back, making yourself as small as you can. 

"I'm sorry," he drops his head into his hands, "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm trying not to feel like this. I've been fighting myself but..." he looks up, fingers stretched up his cheeks as his eyes glimmer, "I... don't love your mom. I only married her so... so..." he closes his eyes and trembles, "I shouldn't say it." His lashes flick open and he sits up straight, "so I could take care of you. That's why. But I couldn't... be honest. Because I didn't want to scare you or lose you. Just having you close is enough so I lied." He sniffs and a tear rolls out, "worse, I couldn't even be honest with myself. Not until now. Until it's too late." 

You gape at him. He just watches you. His expression is pained and sheepish.  

"Please, sweetie, say something." 

"You can't mean it," you breathe, "please take it back." 

"I can't," he utters. 

You sit in silence. You don't know what to say. You can't think. It's all too much. Why can't today just be over? 

He inhales and lets it out as he fixes his posture. He gulps thickly and you look up. He stares at you. The same look as before. The one you don't understand. 

"Sweetie," his voice is firmer and his tears are evaporated, "I have one question." You lower your brow, confused, "do you want your mom to be taken care of?" 

"What?" You squeak. 

"Your mom? You want her to be comfortable? Supported? Get the proper treatment?" He's staunch as he speaks, "you can't do it yourself. We both know you were struggling. Do you got the money for her next hospital stay? For the nurse?" 

You whimper and shake your head, "what do you mean?" 

"Sweetie, your mom needs me. You need me. Don't play dumb," he intones, "I will do anything. I will make sure mom is nice and cozy. She has her meds and everything she needs. There's only one thing I want in return." He clicks his tongue and inclines his head, "it's too bad it's the only thing you got." 

You stare at him. Through him. The whole world narrows in on you as your chest caves in. You close your eyes, wishing against everything, that it can make him go away. 

[diorsluv]

feather , part 29

“ i’m so sorry for your loss ”

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yourusername when he wears matching hello kitty pjs and sticks his head out the window because you thought you heard a rat on the roof 🥰

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mackie.samo AND he ties your skates for you what a gentleman

→ jamie.drysdale only because she’s incapable of tying her own skates

→ yourusername SHUT UP I TOOK HOCKEY LESSONS TOO 😡😡

username24 the way she deliberately cut his face out of every photo is unacceptable

→ username65 im new here are we talking about luke hughes

username11 it’s the way even the new people know she and luke are basically together

luca.fantilli guys sorry my face wasn’t in these pics i’m just a little camera shy 😕😕

→ yourusername LITERALLY SHUT UPPP

→ adamfantilli dude you’re gonna get jumped by him one day

dylanduke25 was this your little date with hughesy

→ yourusername i wish 😔

→ edwards.73 YO ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

→ lhughes_06 🙉

→ rutgermcgroarty WHAAAAAAT

→ _alexturcotte go get em lukey boy

→ trevorzegras MIND BOGGLING 🤯🤯

lhughes_06 your man has good style

→ yourusername yes yes he does 🤭

→ username58 GUYSSSS??

jackhughes 👀

→ yourusername nosy bitch 😒

→ jackhughes you don’t treat my brother this badly

→ yourusername quinn is better right quinny _quinnhughes

→ _quinnhughes yes i am

→ jackhughes i wasn’t talking about him dumbass

username86 please tell me they’re dating

markestapa THOSE ARE MY FUCKING PANTS AND YOU LET HIM WEAR THEM????

→ yourusername THEY’RE A DIFFERENT PAIR STUPID

→ lhughes_06 i can confirm they’re not your pants!

→ yourusername YES YES SEE THERE’S A SLIGHT DIFFERENCE

adamfantilli a rat on the roof…?

→ yourusername YES BRO THAT SHIT WAS SCURRYING AROUND

→ lhughes_06 there was nothing on the roof 🙄

username67 SOFT LAUNCH?

edwards.73 the skates are CLEANNNN

→ yourusername crisp

→ lhughes_06 lookin fresh out the store 🙏

→ markestapa bro bought new skates for the first date 💀💀

_quinnhughes the hello kitty pajamas are really doing it for me

→ yourusername I MANAGED TO GET HIM TO WEAR THEM

→ _quinnhughes because he can’t say no to you 😒

→ yourusername don’t get mad at me because he didn’t like the star wars pjs you gave him for christmas

→ _quinnhughes STOP BRINGING THAT UP IT HAPPENED LIKE A DECADE AGO

→ yourusername a decade is crazy

username80 it’s been a bit frigid on the dryshughes ship lately…

→ yourusername frigid?!?!?!

→ username80 brrrrr i think i need some more posts from the both of you to warm it up yourusername

→ username29 LMAOO

trevorzegras damn lukes double cheeked up

→ yourusername STOP THIS RN

→ lhughes_06 kicking my feet n shit 🤭🤭

→ yourusername wtf

→ trevorzegras my place in 10? lhughes_06

→ lhughes_06 already there 😘😘

→ yourusername get the fuck out of my comments both of you

lhughes_06

liked by edwards.73, jackhughes, markestapa, and 163,433 others

lhughes_06 don’t tell her but i like her a lot 🤫

view all comments

username3 bro they’re fucking trolling us

username45 if that’s not her i won’t know what to do with my life

jackhughes you went to the beach in hoodies 🤯

→ lhughes_06 actually it was quite comfortable 😐😐

→ jackhughes did you go on fucking christmas?????

→ lhughes_06 actually yes we did

username88 if luke was at the beach with his girl on christmas and the only girl he was with on christmas was our lil drizzy…

→ username39 IS THE MATH MATHING???

jamie.drysdale 🤢

→ lhughes_06 😕

→ yourusername ❓

→ markestapa 🤣

→ mackie.samo 😐

jackhughes that looks an awful lot like..

→ lhughes_06 no no finish the sentence 🤨

→ jackhughes no i’m good

→ dylanduke25 that looks an awful lot like your girlfriend luke

→ lhughes_06 i’d hope so cuz it is my gf

→ edwards.73 WAIT WHAT

→ adamfantilli SINCE WHEN??

→ markestapa we were all there 💀

→ luca.fantilli I THOUGHT HE WAS JOKING

→ yourusername we literally watched it happen remember 😭

trevorzegras THERE IT ISSSSS MY BOY

→ lhughes_06 are you proud of me

→ trevorzegras so proud

yourusername your girlfriend looks so pretty ☹️

→ lhughes_06 she told me to say thank you

→ lhughes_06 with the 🫶 emoji i forgot to add it and she got mad 😕😕

→ yourusername hm your girlfriend sounds mean i think you should leave her 😟

→ lhughes_06 but i can’t i already bought the ring 😔

→ yourusername well now you’re stuck with her

→ lhughes_06 wouldn’t have it any other way

_quinnhughes moosey did you actually buy the ring…

→ lhughes_06 bro 😑

→ jackhughes no it’s a joke

→ _quinnhughes my bad damn

→ lhughes_06 it is ur bad

username74 i can’t tell if he’s genuinely dating someone else or if it’s her and they’re just teasing each other

→ username66 it has to be her

_alexturcotte interesting…

colecaufield YOU WEREN’T LYING???

→ lhughes_06 no i wasn’t lying 😐

→ colecaufield so has it happened

→ lhughes_06 yes

→ colecaufield i don’t trust u

rutgermcgroarty goddammit you’re gonna turn into THAT couple aren’t you

→ lhughes_06 no 🙁🙁

→ markestapa they already are that couple 😔

→ mackie.samo it’s so fucking annoying

→ edwards.73 every day i have to fight the urge to just 🤩🔫

→ yourusername they’re so gross it’s not even funny

→ luca.fantilli 😐😐 yourusername

username60 her eyes look too familiar…

→ username55 so it’s her confirmed

→ username60 WELLLL

dylanduke25 okay you took two of these pics before you even started dating

→ lhughes_06 it’s still a soft launch 😞

→ jackhughes debatable

→ lhughes_06 IT’S STILL THE TWO OF US THO

→ _quinnhughes keep lying to yourself luke

adamfantilli tell your gf she can come to my place cuz i baked pumpkin spice cookies

→ lhughes_06 you and luca need to stop trying to steal my girl

→ luca.fantilli since when do you bake fucking pumpkin spice cookies

→ markestapa pumpkin spice is crazy

→ dylanduke25 go work at starbucks or some shit

→ yourusername aw man what about the pumpkin spice cookies you said you would bake for me 😕😕

→ rutgermcgroarty hughesy’s best friend gets replaced by his gf *GONE EMOTIONAL*

→ yourusername stfu rut

→ adamfantilli there’s nothing wrong with pumpkin spice 😞😞

username42 all i want in life is to know they’re together

→ username i mean im p sure this is her

username69 bro u need to stop and JUST TELL US

edwards.73 gross

→ lhughes_06 die 🤬🤬

next chapter notes ) guys.. I KNOW I’VE BEEN INACTIVE but i’m really trying i promise

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys@loveforaugust@cstads-blog

[yourfavhoesblog]

Kinktober : 29 ▪︎ 10 ▪︎ 2023

Tw : Foodplay, blowjobs and cum eating

"Birthday Taste"

Ranpo Edogawa, the legendary detective from Yokohama, stood in his kitchen, mixing a batter. The smell of vanilla and chocolate filled the air, and Ranpo hummed a tune to himself as he mixed. He loved baking, especially when it came to anything sweet.

And today, he had a special reason to bake. It was a special person's birthday, a person Ranpo cared a lot about.

"Why aren't you helping me?" Ranpo asked as he continued to mix the batter.

"I'm not really good at baking, Ranpo-kun," You said. That person was sitting on the edge of the sofa watching Ranpo.

"Nonsense, this is easy. Let me show you how to do it." Ranpo then began explaining step by step how to properly mix the batter.

The male reader listened carefully, trying his best to follow Ranpo's instructions. The two of them worked together, measuring ingredients, mixing, and baking the cake.

It was an enjoyable experience, and you were grateful for Ranpo's patience and guidance. Once the cake finished baking, it was time to decorate. Ranpo had gone all out, buying different types of frosting and embellishments to decorate the cake.

You watched in amazement as Ranpo worked on the cake, making it look perfect. Finally, the cake was completed, and the two of them sat down to enjoy it.

It was a sweet and special moment, and you couldn't help but feel grateful to have Ranpo in your life. The cake was delicious, and two of you spent the rest of the night chatting and enjoying each other's company.

You had a wonderful birthday thanks to Ranpo, and it was a memory he would never forget. It wasn't until then you wanted to cut the cake while ranpo stood behind you with the knife holding you gently, however you felt something hard poking you when you were about to cut it with him.

"R-Ranpo what is that?" You whined pressing against the counter as Ranpo humped his crotch against your ass.

"Mmh aha.." Ranpo whimpered in a high pitched voice behind you turning you on and giving you enough courage to turn around and hold his neck for support for him to take your pajamas off.

He digged for your neck licking and taking small nibbles until he uprubtly bit your neck giving a light hickey earning him a loud moan from your soft lips. He went down on you taking your adorable dick into his mouth sucking it through and through not letting any precum come out of his mouth.

Your sweet moans echoed through the room as Ranpo held your thighs from squirming around.

"Ranpo i-im closeeee"

Ranpo smirked then used his slender hand and pressed it against your lower stomach forcing out a cum out of your dick and splurting out your sticky substance into his mouth. Ranpo finished the substance and smiled after doing so.

"Can we atleast eat our cake first, it'll get cold!" He looked to the side to the cake smiling.

"I have a better idea" He grabbed a finger scoop of the cream sticking it onto your 2 nipples and going down to suck and lick it with his techniques from the amount of lolipops he ate.

"W-wait thats dirty-" You were about to sob to him until his fingers lightly went inside your hole.

"Nghmm...~" you moaned from the rapid movement. Ranpo then took off his pajama shorts to rub against your sweet hole, caressing and teasing.

"Seems like your hole doesnt want me to leave, should i just keep it company?"

You shook your head no while covering your mouth to hide your obvious blushing state and your whimpers wanting to fall out.

"Why do you bother lying...?" He sighed squeezing his dick into your steamy hole as a gasp flys out of your mouth from when he grabbed your arms covering your mouth.

"Should i just stay inside of you for the whole day?"

"Ranpo~ p-please more faster!"

"Hah, i always knew you were a slut but i never knew you were this slutty"

The sounds of thrusting grew louder and faster. You then threw your head back as you were about to cum, however Ranpo didn't stop there he still kept on going even after you came.

"W-wait! I came already!"

Ranpo suddenly picked you up placing you on his lap on the couch.

"How about you take control"

You gulped but gently placed your palm on his stomach pushing your self down halfway on his dick.

"Are you sure you dont need help?"

"I-I can do it" you pushed yourself fully down onto him as you watch ranpo let out a sweet moan making you smirk. While you continue to ride him as it enters your hole so deep giving him a whole performance.

"Slutty boy Nghmm haa~" Ranpo complains as pleasure fills up his mind letting out his seed into your twitching aching hole.

You fell on to him on the couch trying to catch your breath after that.

Ranpo placing his hand over, you hugging and embracing your warm body before saying.

"Happy birthday love"

[koolades-world]

Hi hello! Congrats on 2k!! I'd like to request "is that my shirt" and/or "you're so cute it hurts" with Asmo please

thank you! of course i can :)

yet another cute prompt combo! and with asmo? you're a genius

this was my first time writing in a separate program so if the formatting and the way it's written feels a little strange or different that's probably why. i'm still trying to figure things out, so please don't mind that haha. it kind of threw me off but i'll get used to it eventually

enjoy <3

prompt 7 and 29 w/ Asmo

When Asmo said he’d be gone for a long weekend, you assumed you’d be alright. After all, it was just two and half days. You both had your separate lives too. The initial separation was tearful on Asmo’s end, but you thought you’d be fine.

Unfortunately, you were wrong. The first evening alone was strange for sure. You were so used to spending you evening with him and Mammon, chatting about your day while Beel sat quietly in a corner, munching on whatever snack he happened to have at that moment. Mammon was happy to have you all to himself, but it felt wrong without Asmo.

The next morning felt strange too. Since it was a RAD day, you had to go without him. You were so used to doing your vastly different morning routines side by side while the two of you shared your plans for the day. In his absence, he gave you free reign of his room and bathroom in case you needed something. You took him up on his kind offer because fighting for the regular bathroom wasn’t something you wanted to do that early in the morning. The other brothers would gladly share with you, even if they were in the shower, but you didn't want to share our routine with anyone but him.

You didn’t share too many classes with him, but the ones that you did were empty feeling despite everyone else being present. Lunch was a bore too. The evening rolled around again soon enough and by that point, you fully felt the absence and missed him. Of course, you still spent time with the other brothers. But you dearly missed the time you spent with Asmo. You missed the sound of his voice, and his presence in general. His brothers didn’t seem to mind as much as you, probably because he’d done this a million times before. As much as you wished he was having fun on his trip, you couldn’t wait to have him back.

On day two, a Saturday, you found yourself in his room again. The other brothers were busy for the next hour or so, giving you a little free time. You sat on a lounge chair in his room on your D.D.D, doom-scrolling. You saw some of the pictures he posted on Devilgram, and made sure to give him a like and leave a sweet comment. He responded pretty quickly, leaving you with a fuzzy feeling. He told you that he missed you. You sighed. He had only been gone for about two days, and you’d gotten to the point of wallowing in his room. It was a little pathetic. As you sat there, you gaze wandered over to his giant closet. You gave into the urge and got up to explore.

You’d been in Asmo’s closet countless times, but you’d never been in there by yourself. He had countless drawers and shelves full of various accessories. Walking a little further into the closet allowed you to reach the actual clothing. Everything was neatly organized by color and style. A little more walking took you past his fancy, and casual outfits to all the way in the back were he kept his sparse pajama collection. It only took up one rack compared to everything else’s several. You leafed through it and found something you didn’t even know he owned.

You’d never seen him in it and it didn’t even look like a purchase he’d made. It was a large t-shirt and a pair of tiny short that didn’t look as if they’d cover much and didn’t match the shirt at all. It looked a little worn, but ws still in good condition. But the fact that he still had it said something about the meaning behind it. While his other pajamas were more luxurious, something about that pair called to you. You took it off the hanger and brought it back to your room to change into it for bed when the time came.

Just as you’d intended, you wore it that night to bed and it was just as perfect as you’d imagined it would be. It was made of a very soft material, and even smelled like him. While you still missed him, it help soothe you a little. Besides, you’d see him sometime tomorrow afternoon.

None of the brothers seemed to recognize the clothes as Asmo’s. It made things easier for you. You spent the evening with Beel and Belphie, since Mammon happened to be busy, so it was considerably quieter without him there. Still, the three of you had a great night snacking and watching your favorite tv show. You fell asleep later than you usually would because Mammon and Asmo were the ones that insisted you throw in the towel and call it a night. As a result, you woke up considerably later the next day.

After checking the time, you realized Asmo would be home soon. So, you got up and got yourself ready for the day. Preferably, you’d be out of his clothes by the time he got home. No sooner than you’d left his bathroom and was about to get something to eat, you heard the front door open.

“I’m home!” You heard the voice of your favorite demon ring out through the giant, empty foyer. You rushed to meet him there.

“Asmo!” You ran up behind him, trapping him in a hug.

“Mc! You came to greet me! You’re just the best.” He took his sunglasses off and hugged you back ferociously.

“How was your trip?” You didn’t want to let go, but you had to. You wordlessly took one of his bags from him and followed him back to his room.

“It was so much fun! I think you would’ve really enjoyed it. Next time, you have to come. We can share a room <3.” You were glad to have him back.

“Glad to hear you had fun. I missed you.” You set his bag down on the floor.

“I missed you too, my sweetie pookie bear.” You started to laugh at that ridiculous nickname. Soon, both of you were laughing. You hugged him again, jovial to have him back.

While he was hugging you, Asmo came to the realization that you were wearing his clothes. “Is that my shirt? I see you took a stroll through my closet. It looks cute on you.” He would recognize that material anywhere.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind. I put it on because I missed you. It reminded me of you.” You suddenly felt shy and couldn’t meet his eyes. He squealed.

“Ah, you’re so cute it hurts!” He squeezed you, only causing you to grow more sheepish. “I actually got that the first time I spent a night in the human world and needed something to wear. I could’ve just worn something of Solomon’s, but I didn’t feel like we were close enough for that yet. I kept it for the memories, but it seems as if I’m making more with my other favorite human.” He winked at you.

"I’m honored I’ve earned such a title.” You couldn’t deny how elated spending time with him made you. Just being around him was an automatic mood booster for you. You were delighted to hear that he felt the same.

“I have a little unpacking to do, so if you’re up for it, I can tell you all about my trip while I do. But after that, I need you all to myself for the evening. We can get your favorite for dinner.” He pinched your cheeks.

“I can’t say no to you. Tell away.” You perched yourself on the edge of his bed. As he began talking, you listened carefully. He told you everything animatedly, and you couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous he was. You looked forward to your evening with him, and were happy you missed each other equally.

[and-so-he-rambled]

Library

(An excerpt from the prequel to Gotham Rogue Vlad Masters. Vlad is 29, Jazz is 6, Danny is 4)

Masterlist

Vlad was still a weak man, no matter how much he tried not to be.

He sat in the castle library, knees pulled to his chest and eyes trained on the cassette player sitting on the oak coffee table. The library was one of his favorite parts of the castle and one of the reasons he’d fallen in love with the place. Most of the books had been about cheese, its history and the many ways to make it, but he was slowly replacing them with his own collection. Currently it was mostly the well loved science textbooks he’d obsessed over in his teens, but he had several boxes of the classical literature he’d started reading in his free time. He’d despised fiction for most of his life, but he could appreciate it now.

Vlad leaned forward and pressed the rewind button.

“Hey Vladdy!” The tinny voice of Jack filtered through the speaker of the cassette player. “Remember how Maddie was pregnant? Not anymore! We have a daughter Vladdy! Can you believe it?”

Vlad stared at the black plastic speaker, a mask of emotionless on his face even as every emotion rushed through him.

“She’s beautiful V-man! Has her mother’s hair! She’s six pounds, did you know how tiny babies are? She’ll need to do a lot of catching up to me!” Jack laughed boisterously, air whooshing through the speaker as the phone was moved.

“Say hi to Vlad!”

There was a crackling sigh, tired but fond, and then she spoke.

“Jack, I’m feeding the baby. Hi Vlad, hope you’re well.” Vlad took a shuddering breath, mouth tasting like bile. She sounded so serene, so alive.

“Can’t wait for you to meet her Vladdy!” Jack yelled as he took the phone back, a little baby crying briefly before Maddie’s cooing quieted them. “We should all get together soon, the four of us! Jazzy is going to love her uncle, I just know it!”

The last day he saw Jack and Maddie in person was the lab accident. He’d obsessed over pictures and recordings, over website updates and phone calls, but he hadn’t seen them once since he died. Ten years, in a few months it would be ten years since the accident, and nine since he died.

“Is that my dad?”

Vlad jumped, the leather in his armchair tearing as his claws slipped out.

He fought the urge to walk away, to continue putting on a strong facade and not caring about Jack and Maddie’s deaths. To not acknowledge it, maybe for the kids sake and maybe for his.

“Yes.”

Jasmine hesitated in the doorway, hands tucked away in the sleeves of her pajamas. She had plenty of nightgowns, but she loved keeping her arms and hands covered as much as possible. After a long moment Vlad motioned her to come in and watched her slink around the edge of the room until she stood at his side.

“I recorded these a long time ago. This was when you were born.” He reached down and pressed the rewind button, the mechanical wirr filling the room at the tape rewinded.

“Hey Vladdy!”

They listened to Jack’s boisterous voice together.

“Why…” Jazz sniffled, trying to hide her tears with her sleeves. “Why didn’t you ever come? Dad always called you, and he’d get sad, and mom would say you’re busy. Why didn’t you wanna see us?”

“Oh Jasmine, it wasn’t anything you and Daniel did.” It wasn’t. It was the idea of them, the idea of the perfect happy family of his enemy and first love while he learned to puppet his own corpse. He couldn’t face that until he was forced to.

Jazz set on the edge of the leather ottoman, eyes drawn to the tape as it ended with a click. She watched him silently as he opened the shoebox and placed the ejected tape inside.

“…can I pick one?” Vlad hesitated. Nobody had ever seen his tapes, let alone touched them. They were precious to him, the only weakness he had allowed himself, but Jack and Maddie were gone now. These memories weren’t ones he could selfishly hide, they belonged to Jazz and Daniel now as well.

He pushed the box towards her, watching her fingers peek from beneath the fabric of her sleeves and run along the cassette labels. She pulled out a tape labeled for Daniel’s birth, handing it to her godfather. She continued to look through the tapes as he placed the cassette inside and started it.

“V-man! I bet I just missed ya! I come with big news, you’re an uncle! Again!” Jack laughed loudly, probably throwing his head back and screwing up his eyes the way he always did, with his cheeks and nose flushed from joy and his eyes bright. Vlad’s chest ached.

“His name is Daniel James Fenton and he’s a chip off the old block! Still small, but he’ll be just like his dad, I know it! Jazzy is so excited to be a big sister!” The audio crackled before a small child was heard.

“Hello!” A two year old Jazz yelled.

“It’s Uncle Vlad!“

“Vlad! Unk Vlad! Hello!”

“He’s not actually on the line dear.” Maddie could be heard in the background. She sounded exhausted, but fond of her husband and daughter.

“Oh. Bye-bye.”

Jack laughed again, so uncaring and free and infuriating.

“I’ll call back later since you’re busy, V-man. Love you!”

“Jack, it’s talk later, not I Love You.” Maddie corrected.

“But I love him?” Jack sounded confused as the line clicked and the tape reached its end.

Jazz was trying hard to keep her composure, but there were tears in her eyes.

“Jasmi-“

“When I was little, I thought you were like Santa.” Her voice was wavering, eyes wide as she tried not to blink and let tears fall. Vlad didn’t correct her that she was still little.

“I thought all kids had an Uncle Vlad that their dad made up to make them feel better. But you were real, you were real and you still didn’t come see us. Not until mom and dad died and you had to!”

Vlad didn’t know what to say as angry tears spilled over against the six year olds best efforts, hands flying up to hastily scrub away the evidence.

“Why do you keep pretending you want us? I don’t wanna go back to the hospital and I don wanna lose Danny but you didn’t want us!”

Vlad hadn’t wanted to suddenly have his former friend’s children in his home, but he couldn’t fathom them being with anyone else. He dug to the bottom of the tape box to find the only college photo he hadn’t torn up or defaced. They all looked so young, all wearing lab coats and hanging off each other. No one was looking at the camera and Jack had pulled both Vlad’s and Maddie’s feet off the ground from how hard he hugged.

“I loved your parents.” He handed her the most precious thing he had, even more than his signed football that he’d viscously outbid a children’s hospital for. Though, maybe it wasn’t anymore.

She took it gently, scarred fingers peeking out and running over her parents faces.

“Then why?” She whispered, lip quivering as she brushed her knuckle down her mom’s curls.

Why indeed.

“I got hurt, and I had to get better.” Her father had caused it, had killed him, and he’d suffered, but she didn’t need to know that. As much as he hated Jack he wouldn’t corrupt her memories of her father. “I was hurt for a long time, and when I finally was better I realized how much I missed, and it was far too late.”

“Dad used to say you were busy, when I was little it was because you were sick, but last time he said you had a company now, and you were a business man. He was really happy.”

Vlad bit his tongue until he tasted blood, setting down the tape he was holding before he crushed it. How did Jack have the right to be happy for him after ruining his life?!

“I see.”

“Uncle Vlad?” Jazz brushed hair from her eyes, looking so much like her mom aside from the light streak. Maddie always had naturally straight hair despite the hours spent making it curly each morning.

“Yes dear?”

“You promise you won’t make us leave when you don’t want us anymore?”

Vlad’s core twinged as white hot pain shot through it. It was still healing after his obsession break, but it had been doing much better lately. Henry played off the pain without showing it, huffing a puff of smoke out his nostrils and leveling her with a serious look.

“Jasmine.” He offered his hands palms up, and she slowly reached out to touch the very tips of her fingers to them.

“I am never going to not want you and your brother. In fact, I will commit crimes against humanity before I let either of you be taken from me.”

Jazz considered that for a moment.

“What if you die?” She whispered, betraying her worries.

“Oh Jasmine.” He grinned, perhaps with too many teeth. “I’m a very hard man to kill.”

They listened to a few more tapes until Jazz was fast asleep curled under his arm, finally relaxed in the presence of her parent’s voices. She was easy to carry back to bed, but he took his time crossing the house to the kid’s room.

[submas-november]

The official list of prompts for Submas November is now complete! Once more, many thanks to everyone who submitted prompts, there were enough to do a full month of main prompts as well as alternate prompts!

For those who are new:

Welcome to NOVEMBMAS!

Novembmas (aka Submas November) is an event to appreciate the subway bosses Ingo and Emmet, and it starts on November 1st!

Rules and plaintext prompt list under the cut

RULES:

Tag your posts with "#Novembmas", and don't be afraid to @ this blog! All novembmas posts will be reblogged here. (This is more for organizational purposes -- you don't need to use the tag if you do not want to, but you will if you want it to be seen by this blog.)

Keep things Safe For Work

Tag respectfully and properly

No blanksh1pping whatsoever. (Many well-known shippers have been preemptively blocked, to prevent potential problems in the future.)

And most importantly: be Kind to each other. If someone does something that bothers you, just block them and move on.

PROMPTS:

Day 1: Sibling Antics / Humor

Day 2: Spooky / Autumn

Day 3: Glasses / Technology

Day 4: Maintenance / Coat(s)

Day 5: Stars / Outdoors

Day 6: Cozy / Differing Tastes

Day 7: Vacation / Anniversary

Day 8: Games / Unexpected

Day 9: Gardening / Cleaning

Day 10: Rainy Days / Arts & Crafts

Day 11: Amusement Park / Stowaway

Day 12: Costumes / Models

Day 13: First Train / Favorites

Day 14: Working Late / Surprise Gift

Day 15: Dragons / Happiness

Day 16: Trade / Receding Hairline

Day 17: Silly Arguments / Typos

Day 18: Heat of battle / Competition

Day 19: Flowers / Fanmail

Day 20: Pride / Sarcasm/Irony

Day 21: Photographs / (Coming to an) Understanding

Day 22: First Capture / Gym

Day 23: Family / Retirement

Day 24: Matching / New Style

Day 25: Sick / Guilty Pleasure

Day 26: Reunion / Hope

Day 27: Movie Night / Pajamas

Day 28: Snow Day / Beach Day

Day 29: Home / Fears/Worries

Day 30: Tradition / New Friends

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 22. little dark age

chapter tags/warnings: megumi is very mean but he's very uwu in the end. dad! toji. angsty! megumi. family drama. mentions of death. classism. strong language.

word count: 4.2k

notes: despite my long hours at work and the word count, I finished this update at a speed that impressed myself! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

The next morning, you woke up alone in Toji’s bed.

Sunlight filtered into the room through the lace curtains, the brash beams softened into a gentle glow, a cinnamon and honeysuckle candle flickering in the corner. 

While you could be disappointed that Toji’s warm presence was not beside you, this was your chance to stretch out on the mattress and rub at your eyes, feeling the crisp sheets against your skin. 

With your mind growing more alert, memories from last night made their way back into your mind: how Toji touched you, kissed you, fucked you, made you feel so sexy. Only he could make you feel like he was the luckiest man alive. That you were the only girl in the world.

Like an idiot, you curled into a smiling and giggling ball, kicking your feet in a flustered bout. 

Even with six months of marriage under your belt, it was actually…weird, to remember sex as something enjoyable and fun, rather than an obligatory action.

Sure, Toji might view last night as normal given his abundant sexual endeavors in the past. But this was totally a different thing for you. Naoya had never bothered with ‘unnecessary acts’ like aftercare, after all.

Hell, he could not even care to look at you most nights.

Several weeks back, you would have been racked with guilt.

However, you have recently discovered a renewed sense of self-worth, a belief in your own agency and right to pursue happiness outside your tattered marriage. This was the realization that, if Naoya Zenin could feel like he could do whatever he wanted, you could too. 

You could do better.

Toji had said so himself.

Not to mention, with Toji, you were heard. 

You were understood. 

With him, you were special.

Keeping these thoughts in mind, you practically hopped toward the bathroom and washed up, then skipped down to the lower level to search for him. Looking for him didn’t take long when the kitchen bustled the sounds of cupboards being opened then closed, the clatter of metal forks against porcelain plates. 

You rushed in that direction, unconsciously smiling at how thoughtful Toji was to be preparing breakfast. He must be anticipating you to be awake soon (and how surprised he would be to see that you had risen from your slumber already!).

So you can imagine how disappointed you were when you turned into the kitchen doorway, ready to implode from giddiness, and Toji was not the person you saw.

Rather, you found Toji’s son.

Megumi did not even notice you at first.

He leaned over the kitchen island, his upper body shifted onto the one forearm that rested casually on the counter’s surface, his free hand swiping at his phone. His gaze was locked onto the device which was why he had not sensed your presence, instead occupied with reading his friends’ texts and chuckling to himself as he scrolled through the messages.

Megumi looked like a completely different person now that he wasn’t clearly pissed off.

The contrast was like night and day. 

His morning appearance was remarkably neat. With the abundant lighting, his tall and fair features became clear, with sparkling dark eyes that glimmered like the evening sky. He had taken off his rings and been wrapped snugly in a baggy brown pajama set. 

For once, he looked…soft and sweet, and when he laughed heartily at his screen, everything in his smile was a reminder that this young man was nothing but a kid in the end. 

Briefly, you did not want to believe that this was the same anguished teenager you had encountered last night. All over, you searched for one singular flaw. A loose strand. A crack in his lips. A budding, rosy pimple. But, with Megumi, there was nothing.

How could this possibly be the same person who accused you of being a demon, who lashed at his father for thinking with his dick rather than his head?  As you wondered how your plain presence could turn such an innocent boy into someone filled with contempt, your heart filled with chagrin. 

“Yuuji, this bumbling idiot,” he snickered quietly at a video from his friends. As he pressed replay, he brutally stabbed an apple slice with his fork and popped that bit into his mouth. “If your older brother hasn’t already, Nobara is definitely going to whoop your ass.”

Still chuckling, he shifted his weight, leaning from one arm to another, and that…was when he spotted you.

Quickly, his grin fell flat. 

“Oh,” you heard him mumble. 

Even a half-brained goldfish could tell Megumi was horribly disappointed to see you here. He straightened up a bit, chalking up the invisible and seemingly impenetrable wall that you recognized from last night.

Megumi didn’t want to smile. He didn’t want to be your friend. For all he cared, you only stopped by for a few hours in his life, and he had no obligation or expectations to ever see you again.

So, with that, the atmosphere became thick and awkward. 

Horribly awkward. 

“H-Hey,” you uttered, unsure of what else to say as the gloomy teenager turned around toward the refrigerator and effectively ignored your presence. 

He did a terrific job in avoiding your gaze as he reached for an orange juice carton and a new glass, pouring himself a drink in silence once he returned to the kitchen island. Since you were older, you shouldn't feel humiliated by how you were being treated like a fly on the wall by an eighteen-year-old. 

Yet, you were. 

Megumi made you feel irrelevant and insignificant, as though all idiosyncrasies that made you feel helpless in your marriage came to haunt you through him.

He could hardly bother to glance in your direction even as he downed his drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did. Then, once his glass sat empty, he treated himself to another cup. 

All in silence.

When Megumi finally decided that, fine, he could not simply pretend you didn’t exist forever, he turned to face you and asked, “Why are you still here?”

The question caught you unprepared, leaving you frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

Although Megumi didn’t roll his eyes on the spot (which probably demanded great self-control from himself), he leveled a piercing stare that bore right into yours. For a moment, his looks resembled his father’s greatly, but the intensity in his indigo eyes was nearly palpable, like a spear that grazed along your throat. 

Instantly, your mouth dried at the scrutiny, his look disapproving and judgeful. 

Perhaps you should head to the water cooler, hoping to rehydrate yourself and avoid his direct line of sight in the process. He left you unsettled with how he examined you with narrowed eyes, likely sending death wishes your way.

“I’m here because—” 

You paused.

Here because your father and I fucked last night in the bathroom two doors down from you. 

No. In times like these, honesty was not the best policy. Knowing this, you felt more exposed than ever in Megumi’s presence and tugged at your shirt collar to cover the dark marks on your neck, but the teenager had already seen them all.

“Unbelievable,” he scoffed, his eyelid twitching with irritation. 

Megumi slammed his glass down in exasperation (which, to your amazement, did not shatter despite the force), and he stormed into the next room over.

His signs were clear that he would rather not spend another minute talking to you, but you persistently trailed behind him. There was still a lot to understand about him. At the very least, you would like to sort things out.

On the other hand, he wanted to avoid all that, escaping into the library. Even with your goal for conversation, you had to slow down in awe to admire the newly discovered space. A grand brick fireplace occupied the wall opposite the entrance, a magnificent woodblock painting hanging above the mantel as plush beanbag chairs encircled the hearth. Shelves crafted from dark cherry wood lined the rest of the vicinity's perimeter, showcasing not only an impressive literary collection but also antique figurines and framed family photos. 

“Leave me alone,” Megumi deadpanned amidst your amazement. "My dad's busy on a call in his home office upstairs, but that doesn't mean you should be following me now."

He could never let up on you, could he?

“Well, no one ever said I was following you.”

“Yes, you totally are. Why else are you tailing me here?”

You shrugged. “Because this is a nice apartment, and I’m just exploring.”

“Well, I’m sure you live in a very nice place too, given who your husband is.”

A small part of you was still amazed at how publicized your life was given your ties to the Zenin Corporation’s CEO, but you had been growing accustomed to the attention in recent weeks.

“I like the aesthetics here, though. Drawing inspiration for my own place.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled in finality but did not miss how you stopped at one particular framed photo. Immediately, he rushed to your side, the proximity introducing you to his grapefruit fragrance that was accompanied by ambery cedar notes. Forcefully, he swung his sleeve in front of your face and hampered your view. “Nuh-uh! Don’t be nosy.”

“I’m not being nosy!” you protested. “That was your baby picture—”

“Yes, exactly. So, you are nosy,” said a Megumi trying to hide his embarrassment. “You’re a dreadfully nosy, horribly pushy, and appallingly insistent old snooper.”

“Old snooper?!” 

Sure, you weren’t a high schooler anymore, but that didn’t mean you were old.

“Control yourself,” Megumi went on, ignoring how offended you have become. “You’re victimizing us all.”

While Megumi’s original mission was to slink away and enjoy his personal space, he now decided that he had to monitor your every movement instead, worried about what other awfully cute childhood photos you might come across if left alone. Knowing there was no use in arguing with a stubborn teenager, you took your gaze away from the photos and spotted a large maroon pennant plastered above the doorway. 

“Oh, Harvard?” you asked, 

“Yes, my dad completed his college degree there. Double major in economics in psychology,” he stated matter-of-factly, not that you were surprised. “That, and I’ll be starting school there this fall.”

“Oh, congratulations!" you praised (and questioned why Harvard would accept a cynic like him) before using this chance to make some meaningful conversation. "My husband also went to school in the United States as well. He could give advice about starting university in a foreign country. He went to—”

“Yes, Yale.” 

Wow. Just how many hours did Megumi Fushiguro spend on Naoya Zenin's Wikipedia page? Obsessed much.

Creepy, even.

“Well, look who’s the snooper now,” you teased the boy, jokingly pointing out how he seemed to know more about you than you knew about him.

But perhaps, that was a terrible idea.

Megumi stopped, falling quiet as he turned back slowly to face you. His lips were pressed, as though he internally debated what charged and hateful thing to say next.

How dare you involve yourself in his matters? How dare you use his words against him? Arrogance was never a classy trait. So, how dare you challenge Megumi, an incoming freshman at one of the best universities in the world, while you were a sidepiece in Japan’s aristocracy.

You braced yourself, expecting a barrage of insults, until he asked, “Are you feeling better since yesterday night?”

Caught off guard, you froze, not sure if you heard him right. 

Meanwhile, Megumi did not meet your gaze. He almost appeared ashamed to do so, regarding the nearby bookshelf instead, his long fingers running over the wooden engravings.

The room, once filled with apprehension, now held a rare glimmer—a shred of kindness that left you realizing how complex the teenager was.

To respect his space, you stayed put from where you stood, the library growing quiet while waiting for your answer.   

“I am better, thank you for asking.”

While Megumi tilted his chin forward in thought, he still did not glance your way. He stayed silent for a long while, sucking on his teeth.

“Sorry,” the boy spoke up again. With his head hung low, he took in a deep breath through his nostrils before admitting, “I know I'm a complete asshole sometimes.”

This, naturally, was the last thing expected from the younger Fushiguro. Observing him from your position, you noticed how his features softened as he thumbed through the shelved pages of one book.

Was this real?

Five minutes ago, this was Angsty Megumi. The don’t-bother-me Megumi. The hated-your-fucking-guts Megumi. 

Yet suddenly, he began apologizing. While Toji presumably had some influence in bringing about this change, Megumi appeared to mean what he said given his idle fidgeting.

The easier—and frankly, more childish—comeback was to make a scene and accuse him back. After all, Megumi’s slander and actions had torn a hundred gashes at your fragile heart, but you knew better than to hold grudges at your age. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

Another silence, this break twice as long as the last. He continued to drill his stare into something far less interesting, but only because he seemed hesitant to speak more. His lips parted and then closed as he visibly fought with himself regarding his next words. 

“This doesn’t mean I trust you, though.”

Oh. Just when you thought you advanced two steps ahead, you had merely been circling around square one. Right, you should have expected that because this was only the first time you two were holding some semblance of a civil dialogue. But, despite all this internal rationalization, that didn’t make your disappointment any less.

“That…is fair,” you replied, trying to mask the rejection in your tone though the defeatedness still bled through. 

“Look,” Megumi started quietly. 

He sighed and ran a hand down his dark hair. When he finally turned to you again, gone was the outright scorn that once dwelled in his eyes, replaced by a countenance far more sad. His lips pursed into a strained line, his forehead marked with concern, and brows furrowed ever so slightly.

“I don’t know what your intentions are. Just…please don’t hurt my dad.” 

Your chest tightened. 

Megumi could judge you for all he wanted, but you felt unfairly blamed. He had said something similar last night. What could you—a young and inexperienced housewife to the Zenin family, yourself with no real power—possibly do to hurt Toji?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The boy stared at his feet, rocking on his heels. “Dad’s been through a lot. All to protect me. But, as an unfortunate result, he had made several awful decisions in the past to the point I feel like I am the one watching out for him instead. Ever since my mother passed away, he had been a mess.”

Ever since his mother passed away.

While you were aware that Toji had an ongoing affair with ‘Tsumiki’s mom,’ you had not stopped before to think about Toji’s other past wife who must be Megumi’s mom, much less wrap your head around the possibility that the latter no longer existed in this world.

Not that you were to blame.

Toji, who preferred to keep many private matters to himself, didn’t mention his first wife in conversations before, her premature death being a likely reason.

This might be rude, but you had to ask, “What happened to your mother?”

Megumi had expected the question, putting on a front to seem tough and act as though the past didn’t bother him. Yet, pain flashed visibly across his face.

“Involved in an accident many years ago. She was an event coordinator and traveled to Canada to visit a vendor when she crossed an intersection, and then…” 

He paused.

Even though you had an inkling about what he was to do next, adrenaline coursed through as Megumi raised his outstretched fingers and collided them to create the letter T.

“Boom. Gone.”

Your heart sank. 

How come no one had ever mentioned this to you before? 

While you could understand why Toji did not want to discuss this traumatic event, the other therapists never brought up their leader's tragic history either. Therefore, the realization wrecked you—to think about how a young woman’s life could vanish from an unpredictable freak accident, leaving behind a husband who could never tell his wife that he loved her one last time and a son who could never feel his mother’s tender affection again.

“That’s horrendous,” was the most appropriate reaction you could conjure to sum up your thousand thoughts. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”

Your voice trailed off. 

Despite the time to process, you still didn’t know the proper verbiage. Only now were you scratching the surface regarding who Toji and Megumi Fushiguro truly were, and you could only wonder what else there was to know about them.

“Don’t say sorry to me.” Noticing your loss for words, Megumi had interjected. “I don’t remember much about my mom since I was seven when she passed, so not that I really care anyway.” 

A lie. The teenager tried to seem unbothered, but his voice wavered. Even Megumi himself must have noticed how he began choking up a little, turning away to distract his sadness. 

“My dad, though…” Megumi continued, but he didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to understand the rest. “He truly loved my mom.” After propping his elbow against a nearby shelf, he rested his head on his palm and sighed. “He had given up everything just to be with her.”

Both warmth and sadness shone through like he was retelling a bittersweet story of star-crossed lovers—two people deeply in love yet destined to be apart.

“I see.”

“Dad has not been the same since,” the boy continued to explain. “He slept around a bunch and got charmed by some pretty lady. Blinded, my dad got married to her and life had been a living hell afterward—treated me like a bag of shit, spent all my dad’s money on her shopping sprees every weekend, and even neglected her own daughter—my stepsister—which forced my dad to raise her instead.” In the end, Megumi huffed loudly in exasperation and seethed in anger, his hands balled into fists that turned his knuckles white. “A fucking bitch.”

He’s talking about Tsumiki’s mom, you realized. 

“They’ve gotten divorced, no?” you inquired, referring to Toji and his second wife.

“Thank all the Shinto gods, they did! About several months ago, yes. Would have taken their marriage certificate into my own hands if they hadn’t by now!” Megumi exclaimed, extending his hands out to rip an imaginary piece of paper for illustrative purposes. “That…That whore did my father really dirty during the years they were together. No, the craziest shit is that she continues to bother my dad all the fucking time.” Scoffing, he threw his arms into the air. “She’s got a new shiny boy toy, so why is she still trying to bother the ex-husband that she placed the divorce papers in front of?”

His eyes slid to observe you, as though he attempted to read through your thoughts or elicit some reaction. Therefore, when you did not, Megumi simply continued.

“I am this close,” he leaned forward, bringing his thumb and index closer just about together, “ this close to placing a restraining order on that lunatic. For my sake, for my stepsister Tsumiki’s sake, and for my father’s sake.” Then, he dropped his hands down in one long sigh. “Therefore, I hope you can understand why I have trust issues.”

With this newfound information, you finally understood why Megumi had been so hostile to you during your first few encounters with him. He had a good reason to be. With all these years gone by, he hadn’t seen anything good come out of his father’s escapades ever since his mother’s passing, and Megumi was desperate and determined to protect what he had left. 

Like you, Megumi knew that Toji deserved none of this.

Toji did not deserve to agonize alone after his first wife’s untimely death, he did not deserve to be taken advantage of by his second wife who sought opportunity in his heart’s emptiness, and he did not deserve the suffering of having no one by his side to comfort him during these times. 

Seriously, how could you possibly be complaining about bad sex to a man whose lowest lows tortured him far beyond your comprehension? Juxtaposing your therapist’s tragedy—from loss to grief to betrayal—against yours made your problems seem minuscule compared to the vast amount in his. Even though Toji suffered through many colossal heartaches, he still lived, smiled, and gave each day his all, living through the halcyon days of sunshine. 

Meanwhile, Megumi stared at the ring that was already on your finger. “Are you going to marry my dad?" 

Spit nearly catapulted past your mouth. 

“What?” you blurted, dumbfounded. 

“I don’t want another stepmother,” Megumi clarified, assuming that the answer to his question would be yes. “I just want a mother.” He crossed his arms and hugged himself, the loneliness evident in his orotund voice. “I…want to know what having a mom feels like again.”

You could feel and see, for the first time since you two met, the vulnerability that resided within Megumi. A side that would only come out whenever he thought about his childhood, which must have been filled with love, joy, and beautiful memories. 

Seeing this made your heart tear with sympathy. 

Because, in him, you saw a reflection of yourself.

“Back when I was in high school, my mother passed away after a long battle with kidney cancer,” you divulged, recognizing and validating his sorrow. "The immediate years after were extremely difficult for me because I had known my mother for so long in my life, and I sought a presence that could replace hers. My father, like yours, recognized my struggles and took it upon himself to fill my mother's shoes. Still, my mother cannot ever be replaced, and I similarly do not think I can completely substitute your mother either. But there is one thing for you to know: that my very last goal would be to hurt you and those you care about, Megumi.”

Words, you knew, did have the capabilities to mend the rift alone, so you took slow steps toward him. In the closed distance, the desolation in his eyes became more vivid, the ever-present struggle between his confused emotions and the barriers he fortified to protect himself and those he loved. 

Without saying more, you tugged at his arm and pulled him into an embrace.

Beneath your hands, you could feel his shock.

He resisted at first, a subtle rigidity in his frame.

Gradually, however, those tense muscles in his body softened as he sunk in the warmth you provided him. His shoulders seemed to lower along with his guard, and he leaned into the hug. Not every issue may have been resolved, but at that moment, you found a common ground with Megumi that replaced the once-charged disagreements with a consolation transcending words.

“I only know a small part of your story, but I want to be here for you,” you whispered, voice a soothing murmur. 

Megumi did not respond immediately, but his grip on your shirt tightened as if acknowledging the shared vulnerability. There was warmth from his body that assuaged your broken and throbbing heart, and with great sincerity, you hoped that he could at least get the same comfort from you. Like a little child, he rested his head by your neck and let out a deep breath. 

“Thank you for talking to me.”

With a sad smile, you patted his back. “Of course.”

Even the room seemed to exhale in relief, releasing the lingering tension that had gripped the vicinity.

The peace and serenity were only interrupted when a holler thundered from the upper floor.

“Boy!” Toji, who must be done with his call now, boomed. “I told you to clean the bathroom, already! Mopping and scrubbing today!”

Megumi groaned at the command and peeled away from your touch. “I’m going to do that soon!” he shouted into the void, hoping that his voice somehow made its way back to his father.

“That’s what you said an hour ago!”

“Okay, yeah, he’s right,” Megumi conceded, huffing. He stepped back, a faint blush dusting across his pale cheeks.

“I’ll be back,” he muttered shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just some chores to do. Sorry.”

Toji must be lucky to have such a good son like him.

“No worries.”

With Megumi rushing out to obey his father’s commands, you found the library now all yours. You were smiling ear to ear, your entire body much lighter now that you had resolved many misunderstandings with Megumi. As you waited for his return, you scanned the room in search of something to help you pass the time, your gaze fell upon the Harvard pennant again, this time also noticing the framed document that hung beneath the banner. 

“What is this?” you mumbled to yourself.

Yes, as Megumi had pointed out about you earlier, you were incredibly ‘nosy.’ In your defense, this was your chance to learn more about the Fushiguros, a family whose past you just began to uncover through the conversations earlier. 

Besides, what harm could be done from just some innocent curiosity?

You approached the piece slowly, unable to comprehend the English print quickly when your first language was Japanese. Yet, with just enough foreign language reading skills, you figured that this document was in fact a Harvard University diploma. Impressed, you admired the gold embossed letters, the university's iconic emblem, and the dark ink that conferred the degree to… 

Toji…Zenin.

What? 

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: We have officially hit the turning point in this fic! The reason I enjoyed writing this chapter so much was how many topics and emotions were explored. While our hot therapists didn't take the spotlight, we got a chance to explore our very elusive Megumi.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[dankmaths]

and here we go. more rare outfits

p4ga edition.

(side note is ebi dyeing her hair as well? its a pretty similar shade to yosuke and chie. but personally i think itd be funny if it was just another case of natural anime hair color.)

the girls all get new swimsuits (and yu's flashy purple pants make a triumphant return)

rise's idol outfit from the og anime also makes a triumphant return...

adachi also gets a couple new ones from his school days

(it's the yasogami uniform bc this is for an au but i like megane dachy...)

pretty sure theyre just wearing overcoats over their normal winter outfits here but i think it counts. feels fresh

there're also shots of them WITHOUT their midwinter overcoats. i like this one bc they look like bugs when you lift up their rock.

i think this is the only shot we get of rise's room....???? unless it shows up in the manga, which i also haven't read bc i'm a fake fan.

ebi finally gets a midwinter outfit

and i think everyone got new pajamas in this episode. cute

the 29 on chie's jacket is bc w goroawase you can read it as "niku" (meat) lol.

i think that's all of them? i'd love to see more if i missed any. esp from the manga since i haven't read it.

[bellabean24]

I Made Something For You

Kinktober day 29 Eustass Kid x Fem!Reader

Word Count:800

Tags:NSFW, Modern AU, Homemade Sex Toys, Oral (F!Receiving

Synopsis:You always new your man was a freak but not freaky enough to make your toys or so you thought

Kinktober M.List | One Piece M.List

For the past couple of days your boyfriend, Eustass Kid, has been working on something in his workshop in the garage. Constantly hiding what he is doing in that room, but today he has finally finished his work and he wants to show you exactly what he made. 

“Y/N come here,” he shouts from the garage door watching the door and waiting for you to appear, “Hurry up.” Kid shouts one more being the very impatient man he is, “Jesus I'm right here,” walking through the door you see a box on the table and a smirking Kid next to it. 

“What is it?” Walking to your broad boyfriend you kiss his pale cheek before he answers you, “I made you something.” He points his head towards the box gesturing you to open it, smiling up at him knowing that he always makes you things as his love language. 

“Go open it baby,” the smirk on his face never leaves as you move towards the box and open the flaps on the top. Opening it up you see something long and thick laying down in the box, “What did you make?” Giggling as you look at him then inside the box, reaching for the thing inside, the smile on your face drops your jaw dropping as you feel something that feels like a sex toy. 

Pulling it out the box the thing in your hand is actually a sex toy, a pink dildo to be exact. “Eustass Kid, what the hell did you make?” Your voice is shaky as you look at the dildo in your hand, eyes wide as you look at your red haired boyfriend, “So we can use it, like right now.” Kid pulls you into his chest giving your forehead a kiss as he pulls you out the garage up the stairs to your bedroom. 

The toy is still in your hand, “Wait what do you mean you want to use it,” tossing the toy on your bed you look at your boyfriend who is already taking his shirt and pants off, “I want to use it on you, now take your clothes off.” 

A bright smile creeps up on your face as you take your pajama pants off and ripping your tank top off your body and over your head, you throw your shirt on the floor, standing in only your panties. “Ok then let's do this already Kid,” pulling the last article of clothing off your body now standing in front of him naked. 

“God I love you,” Kid pushes you on the bed, grabbing the toy beside you and bringing it to your mouth, “Spit on it baby.” Sitting up on your elbows you spit on the rubber toy then taking your hand to stroke the liquid around the toy, “Good girl,” Kid takes the toy away from your hand and rubs it up and down your wet slit. 

“Such a wet fucking pussy,” Kid moves the tip of the toy to your clenching hole slowly pushing it in your tight hole, you can feel the rubber veins on the cock against your warm wet walls, soft moans fall from your lips as he pushes the toy deep into your hole. “S-so big, s-shit,” you’re a stuttering mess as the toy hits all the right places, Kid grunts against your thigh as he kisses you and humps the bed trying to relieve his hard cock. 

Kid moves his mouth up to your clit sucking on it as he continues to fuck the handmade toy into your soaking hole, he roughly sucks on your clit the sounds of your moans, his mouth sucking onto your clit and the sound of the toy fucking into your wet hole fills the room. “Look so pretty Y/N,” he groans against your clit as his hips still buck into the bed. 

“Gonna come for me baby,” Kid’s movements never falter as he mumbles into your swollen bud, “Yea I’m gonna come,” clenching around the toy as it hits your g-spot. Cumming around the dildo you coat the toy with your cum moaning as Kid fucks the toy through your orgasm, his mouth never leaving your clit. 

“Wait, I can't no more Kid,” pushing his head away from you, you look at him trying to pull him up for a kiss, “Kiss me Kid.” Kid pulls the toy out of you, a small gasp coming from your mouth as he crawls up your body leaving kisses along his way, “So pretty.” 

As you make out with Kid you had no clue that the dildo he made was an exact copy of his own cock and Kid doesn’t plan on telling you anytime soon he much rather you figure it out yourself as you take his actual cock.

©Bella2023

[sicktember]

While waiting for the Sicktember 2024, June 15th reveal, check out these past prompts and collections for inspiration!

Sicktember 2023 - 2021 Past Prompts and Collections

💚2023 💚

[AO3 Collection]

Prompts List ⬇

1. Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

2. Quest for a Cure

3. “What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?”

4. Hiding an Illness

5. Preventative Measures (Not Taken)

6. Sick and Injured

7. “You’re a Jerk When You’re Sick”

8. Persistent Fever

9. White Coat Syndrome

10. “The only place we’re going is to the pharmacy”

11. Beginner’s Guide to Faking Sick

12. Old Wives Tale

13. Anxious Stomach

14. ‘‘I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am’’

15. Sick in an Inconvenient Place

16. Consulting the Internet/Web MD

17. Magical Remedy/Healing Potion

18. “Wear Your Coat, You’ll Catch a Cold”

19. Curled Up With a Pet

20. Cramping Pain

21. “But if you stay, you’ll get sick too”

22. Terms of Endearment/Nicknames

23. Coughing Fit

24. “Did you just sneeze?”

25. Confused/Disoriented

26. Pink Eye/Conjunctivitis

27. Uncooperative Patient

28. “I should have stayed home”

29. Side Effects/Adverse Reaction

30. Patient 0

2023 Alternate Prompts

Alt. 1.“I Could Really Use a Hug Right About Now”

Alt. 2. Fuzzy Socks

Alt. 3. Pounding Headache

Alt. 4. Forehead Kisses

Alt. 5. “I’m so sorry”

💚2022💚

[AO3 Collection]

Prompt List ⬇

1. ‘Do You Know How To Take Care of a Sick Person?’

2.  Homesick

3.  Painkillers

4.  Hangover

5.  'Great. Now I Have Your Germs All Over Me.’

6.  Sick on vacation

7.  A cry for attention

8.  Intense coddling

9.  Home remedy

10. Excessive use of tissues/ ‘Blow Your Nose’

11. Emergency Room/ Ambulance

12. Psychogenic Fever/Stress Induced Illness

13. Seasonal/Pet Allergies

14. ‘I Might Be A Teeny Tiny Bit Sick, But It’s Fine.’' 

15. Frostbite/Sunburn

16. Care Package

17. Syncope/Fainting

18. Nausea/Upset Stomach

19. Whining/Crying 

20.  Cold Sweat

21. ‘Does this look infected to you?’

22. Common Cold/Flu

23. Tepid Bath

24. ‘I Need You To Pull Over!’

25. Acid Reflux/Heartburn

26. Tickle in the Throat

27. Sleepless Night/s

28. Chronic Illness

29. Lethargy/Exhaustion

30. ‘Get Back in Bed!’ 

2022 Alternate Prompts:

Alt. 1. Soft Pajamas

Alt. 2. Vapor Rub

Alt. 3. Cuddling on the Couch

Alt. 4. Taking a Sick Day

Alt. 5. ‘Can You Be Brave For Me?’

💚2021💚

[AO3 Collection]

Prompt List ⬇

1. Fever

2. Persistent Cough/Sniffling.

3. Chicken Pox/Rash 

4. Headache/Migraine

5. Comfort Item (Plush/Blanket)

6. Nebulizer

7. Sneaky Temperature Check

8. Contagious

9. I’m Not Sick

10. Medicine/Injection

11. Bed Rest

12. Faking it

13. Appendicitis

14. Aches and Pains

15. Quarantine 

16. Hot Water Bottle

17. Ginger Ale and Crackers

18. Fever Dream/Hysteria

19. Addiction

20. Doctor’s Visit/Check Up

21. Unlikely Caregiver

22. Toothache

23. Ear Infection

24. Sneezing

25. Sick at School/Work

26. Strep Throat/Laryngitis

27. Blankets

28. Missing Out 

29. Motion Sickness

30. Food poisoning/Allergy

2021 Alternative Prompts:

Alt. 1:  Warm Soup

Alt. 2:  Too Many Layers

Alt. 3:  Vitamin C

Alt. 4:  Stay

Alt. 5:  Asleep on the Couch

[singulxarity]

Jegulus microfic- Day 29 - prompt - 'fancy' @jegulus-microfic

Word count : 341

Regulus grew up in a house that used crystal glasses at every meal. He grew up in a house where no one except his brother had seen him in his pajamas. By the age of 8 he knew which fork was used for what and he could within seconds tell real gold from fake. He was brought up in a house that prioritised materialistic goods over real human connections. And he never questioned it. He believed the values that were instilled into him ever since his toothy smile become a sly fox baring his teeth.

Until the unexpected arrival of James Potter. With lopsided glasses, a cheeky grin and the newest broomstick in tow. Regulus was prepared to be disgusted, repelled, sickened, even. But no, he was pulled in. The way the north side of a magnet has no choice but to move closer and closer to the south, until the two are inevitably together. The way the sun and the sea have no choice but to meet at the tip of the horizon.

The way regulus had no choice but to touch and revel in the simplicity of the being that was James Potter.

And so he did.

He touched his hair, his lips, his hands and his chest. Right where one of the most complex structures known to man, kept the most simple being alive.

And so, when regulus is deciding the color of the kitchen cabinets for their house, he looks over at the sage green that James is holding and turns back to the crystal encrusted ones in his hand. He drops it as he walks over to the loveliest man on the planet. Because with James things dont need to be fancy. They don't need to impress. They just need to be. The way a flower has no choice but to bloom. And the way Regulus has no choice but to smile and say, "I love it, and you."

And the way James has no choice but to say, "Course you do, I'm James bloody Potter!"

[deliciouskeys]

Cozy Corner Domaystic Prompt #18: Snow Day

Maevlander, 2.5K, rated T. AO3 link.

Jan 23 2016

“I just don’t really understand,” Homelander grumbles, pacing back and forth in front of the large glass wall in Maeve's apartment, periodically stopping and looking out the window.

“Which part don’t you understand,” Maeve asks wearily, not looking like she really wants an answer, still in pajamas, still lounging in bed vaping as she stares blankly at the TV screen mounted on the wall with the news on silent, the red ticker-tape at the bottom listing school and university closings in New York and New Jersey. “It’s a city-wide travel ban. Vought headquarters had to close for business today and tomorrow. I’m sure some people came in anyway.”

“I don’t remember New York City shutting down because of a little snow in recent years. Don’t we pride ourselves on infrastructure? Don’t tell me they can’t clear the roadways. And come on, Vought should be one of the last places to shut down because of a little weather!”

“John, it’s literally the weekend. And there’s like three feet of snow on the ground.”

“They said 29 inches.”

“Well however much it is, it’s enough for them to declare an emergency.”

Homelander leans his forehead against the glass staring down. “If it’s really so dangerous, why is Central Park full of people sledding?”

Maeve cocks her head. “You really don’t know what to do with yourself on a day off, huh.”

“Nooo...” Homelander drags out the word, trying to be patronizing but Maeve is unfazed. “I’m just saying. I could clear the roads in an hour all by myself if the mayor or governor thought to ask.”

“I’m sure you could.” Maeve rolls her eyes.

“What, you don’t think so? I could melt Manhattan in a fifteen minute flyby.”

“Yeah, people will be delighted to see you light every street on fire.”

“I wouldn’t be setting anything on fire.” Homelander sounds defensive and it makes Maeve smile.

“Nobody asked you to melt anything,” Maeve says, groaning. “Why can’t you just give things a rest and let people enjoy a snow day?”

“Because it’s dangerous! Ambulances can’t get through. Just because there’s a snow day you think people stop having heart attacks?”

“I never knew you were so concerned about people not being able to get to the hospital. Maybe you should go on runs for the hospitals yourself then. Airlift the people having heart attacks.”

Homelander makes a scoffing sound, still staring intently out the large wall-window, the poor people who dared to go sledding on a Saturday not knowing that they were being scrutinized and judged from 90 floors up and 10 blocks away.

“So saving people is beneath you, but standing there bitching about how few people came into work today isn’t? You can really tell you never got to experience a snow day in childhood, Mr. Grinch.” 

Homelander turns toward her sharply at the last part. Maeve wonders if she’s gone too far now that his gaze has been torn away from the rabble on the ground and directed at her. It's never a good idea to bring up his childhood. But he cracks a smile instead of getting angry at her bluntness and walks over to the bed, sweeping his cape off to the side before sitting down.

“Fine, Maeve, enlighten me. Tell me what makes snow days so fucking magical.” The sarcasm in his tone is off the charts, but his gloves are off and Maeve has learned to recognize that that’s a sign that he wants intimacy, no matter what he says or how it sounds. She cautiously slides her hand into his and she can see an endearing uncertainty and neediness flicker across his face, his expression settling into something softer.

“It’s nothing complicated. You’d wake up in the morning and pray for the robocall to your parents’ landline to tell them school was out. And if you were lucky enough to have a snow day, you had the entire day free to play in the snow.”

“Like, what, build snowmen?”

Maeve smiles at the defensiveness of his tone. He’s so intent on proving to her that he didn't miss out on anything important. 

“When you’re little, yeah. Snowball fights, snowmen, snowforts. When I was a bit older, my dad would take me skiing sometimes.”

“Is skiing fun?” Homelander asks, looking away from her and staring off into a corner of the room, but still holding her hand.

“Yeah. I haven’t done it in a while. But when I was seven, I got my own skis and everything. It’s cheap thrills for a kid, I suppose. You can speed up like all hell if you go down a steep enough slope."

“Would you like to go skiing?” Homelander asks, and despite some misgivings Maeve realizes that she would like to. She relents and says yes. Anything has to be better than being cooped up in the Tower having an argument in her apartment about why people have no work ethic.

Homelander seems to brighten right up when she asks to go. Maybe Maeve underestimates how lonely and lost he feels without a daily agenda, without a script telling him where to be and what to do for most of the day. She's saved him from unstructured time.

“You’re going in that?” Homelander asks, wrinkling his nose slightly at the civilian winter clothes she's changing into.

“You don’t really expect me to ski in my skimpy uniform, do you?”

Homelander shrugs. “I’m just going as I am.”

“Yeah, you won’t be the only douchebag on the slopes wearing spandex, so you might as well.” Maeve looks him over. “You don’t think you can leave the cape at home?”

Homelander gives her a look that says she must be crazy to suggest that.

He flies her in his arms all the way to New Hampshire, where there’s plenty of snow but no blizzard going on, and where the slopes turn out to be more crowded than either of them would probably like.

They have to rent skis of course. Maeve is about to pay for both of them but the employees frantically shake their heads, and assure her it's on the house and that it’s such an honor that she and Homelander have decided to grace their humble ski resort with their presence. Maeve is pretty sure they wouldn’t have recognized her had her partner in crime been wearing anything slightly less conspicuous than full regalia.

Homelander looks skeptical when he’s asked to try on ski boots. As if the boots he came in with are any less of a fashion faux pas, Maeve smiles to herself. The poor teenager helping them starts to visibly sweat when Homelander waves him off dismissively after he offers them helmets. The staff are starstruck and ask for selfies with the two heroes, and a picture of the two of them to hang up on the bulleting board. Homelander and Maeve indulge them for a few minutes before finally heading outside with skis and poles in hand.

“Why are these boots so awkward?” Homelander asks as he follows her out of the lodge and into the snow.

“Because they’re not for walking,” Maeve grumbles. Homelander watches and mimics her as she puts the skis on. She should be grateful that he’s humoring any of this at all. Even if she’s wondering whether she’d enjoy this outing a lot more alone, there is something entertaining about seeing Homelander navigating mundane everyday life with none of his usual self-assurance.

She leads him to the ski lift, the people in line behind them clearly debating whether these were real celebrities or just really good cosplay. Homelander ends up signing a few autographs before Maeve tugs him forward to get in position for the lift.

“So this is just to bring people up the mountain?” he questions, looking around and swinging his skis like a bored kid. And maybe that’s what he is, Maeve thinks.

“Yeah,” she says. As they ski down the small ramp at the top of the lift, Homelander is clearly just taking his cues from her. Maeve hasn’t done this in so long that she hesitates and turns toward the intermediate difficulty slope. Homelander simply follows. He glides with relative ease for someone who’s never been on skis before. Then again, Maeve realizes that he’s not really skiing. As they head down the slope, she decide to stop abruptly. He glides down a little bit past her before halting and skiing himself backwards up the slope to stand in parallel with her.

Maeve smirks. Just as she thought. “Quit being creepy.”

“What?” he asks, and seems genuinely confused.

“What you’re doing isn’t skiing. Stop hovering and put your full weight on the snow.”

Homelander shrugs and visibly settles himself deeper into the snow’s surface.

“Skiing is about getting momentum from sliding down the mountain on two thin pieces of wood, not flying around pretending to ski.”

Maeve expects him to roll his eyes or get defensive and snarky. But Homelander just stares at her and even nods slightly as if she’s some guru dropping knowledge on him.

“You pivot and turn abruptly to stop. You can use your poles to help push off and change direction.” He’ll get annoyed at being tutored at some point, right?

But Homelander still nods. And before Maeve can push off herself, he starts down the slope, looking much less smooth this time, apparently testing things out, trying to do it by her rules. She still suspects he’s using his powers when he stops and looks back at her as if to ask ‘did I do it right this time?’ She skis down to join him.

“Yeah just like that. You’re getting the hang of it.”

They finish the run and get back on the lift, more and more of the crowd at the bottom wisening up to the fact that they’ve got a celebrity among them, but Homelander signs fewer autographs this time before getting on the lift again.

Maeve's getting strangely emotional, sitting here, legs dangling far above the treetops, feeling like she’s gone back in time, almost forgetting who this is. Homelander isn’t her dad. They’re nothing alike, even if she hates both of them. And yet, sitting here in the lift chair takes her back to the times she misses so much, before her dad impressed upon her that becoming part of a Vought-sponsored team should be her goal in life.

“Sorry, I know the lift must be boring when you can just ski up the mountain,” Maeve says. She doesn’t know why she’s apologizing.

Homelander shakes his head. “I don’t mind. I like sitting here with you.”

When he wraps his arm around her, Maeve can’t believe she starts crying. Homelander looks confused and retracts his arm.

“Did- did I hurt you?” he asks, and there’s not an ounce of disdain in his voice, only worry.

“No, it’s nothing,” Maeve says, laughing it off and furiously wiping the tears away. “I just remembered the last time I went skiing with my dad. We never really got along. But I did like to go skiing with him.”

Homelander looks at her, and– even though he can’t possibly understand how she feels– uncannily enough manages to look sympathetic, and she doesn’t even flinch when he wraps his arm around her again, squeezing her closer.

The moment is only ruined by a wolf whistle from the chair behind them.

Homelander’s head starts swiveling back but Maeve pushes his chin back so he keeps facing her. She doesn’t even mind when he takes that as a prompt to start kissing. It’s gentle and feels maudlin– the way he prefers it and she doesn’t. When he’s like this, she can almost forget how violently possessive he gets over her, can almost forget how Vought forced her to hide her sexual past and pretend Elena doesn’t exist. Can almost forget how she was forced into a relationship with him– first a PR one for the ratings, then a “real” one, still for the ratings. Can almost forget that Madelyn Stilwell volunteered all sorts of tips about how to navigate his capricious mood swings and exploit some of his strange vulnerabilities, which made Maeve wonder what sort of relationship they had and may still be carrying on. No, she won’t think about any of that while they’re sitting on this ski lift together, the air cool and crisp around them, his skis overlapping with hers.

She decides to go down the black diamond side this time. People gawk. Maeve feels invigorated, brave, fulfilled, and heads over the bumps so fast that she does end falling into the snow ungracefully. Homelander skis up beside her, looking concerned even though she gets up laughing, wiping snow from her face and hair with the back of her gloved hand.

“You okay there?” he asks, clearly not worried that she hurt herself, but maybe a little worried at other skiers witnessing this. There is someone who stopped further up the slope and whipped out his phone, probably filming all this.

“Yeah. Falling’s part of the fun,” she says. “You should try it sometime.”

“No thanks,” he bites off tersely.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get that cape wet,” she mumbles under her breath as she starts heading down the slope again. She knows he heard her, no matter how quietly she said it.

They keep skiing even after sundown, just like she used to do when she was a child, not bothering to take a break for a meal. Truthfully, she has no interest in walking into the lodge cafeteria and creating a commotion of people wanting selfies and autographs. Homelander is just taking her cues, following her around like a puppy the entire time. He doesn’t deign to fall over, not even for her sake, but he takes the lift up each time, never insisting on being an asshole and skiing up the slope or flying to show off. She suspects sitting on the lift with her is actually his favorite part of this whole escapade leaving Vought Tower for the day.

“Still bitter about the snow day?” she asks playfully on one of their more silent trips on the lift when he seems lost in thought.

He’s staring off into the distance with a strange look on his face, then seems to look down and study his skis. “I did have snow days as a child,” he says. “They just weren’t very fun.”

She tenses a little bit. When Homelander reminisces about his childhood it’s often the death knell of any fun, normal interaction between them, and a turn toward a morose angry mood. But he looks calm. 

“When there was a snow emergency, only a skeleton crew would come to work in the lab. Nobody interacted with me. Most of the scientists would stay home. The whole building was much quieter than usual. They never did experiments on me on those days, I guess, but it wasn’t a good tradeoff. I’d sit there listening to the snow landing on the roof of the building, without really knowing what it was. I’d only seen it in pictures and movies. I didn’t even imagine that it’s something wet.”

Maeve feels herself shudder and quickly pretends it’s because she’s cold, prompting Homelander to hug her in closer. He even wraps his cape around her, and she knows he hardly ever uses that for anything so utilitarian. She’s not going to let him know she shudders whenever she hears yet another tidbit about his lab days and realizes anew that the way he was raised means he can never be a balanced, pleasant person, and that it’s a miracle that he can mimic people enough to blend in. Vought have managed to raise an alien creature on earth.

Homelander leans his head in even closer and whispers “Can we have sex tonight? When we get back?” in a wheedling tone, and she nods automatically without even thinking, terrified of him and at the same time full of pity.

A smile spreads wide on his face and he releases her from the embrace as they near the top of the lift and prepare to ski off.

A/N: This blizzard was a real thing :)

[valenfangs]

Valenfangs is very happy to announce . . . VamPride!

transcript and prompts under the cut

We are inviting any fans of the Vampire Chronicles and its derivative works (books, show, movie, that other movie, play – and every colour in between) to have some fun with us in June as we celebrate pride!

Show your colours through a variety of mediums - fics, art, moodboards, playlists, headcanons, edits, cosplays, we want to see it all!

Fill as many prompts or as little as you like! You have three prompts per day, and you can use just one as inspiration or combine multiple prompts into one work

This is a month of celebration and we want to celebrate everything you do! Make sure to tag us @valenfangs so we and all our followers don’t miss your awesome contributions

We're here for you! If you have any questions, our ask box is open!

PROMPTS:

1 - San Francisco // gay bar // sunshine

2 - beach // ice cream // tough love

3 - drag queen/king // butterflies // asexual

4 - rose garden // Roaring 20s // threesome

5 - rule 63 // art museum // haircut

6 - Omegaverse // sunglasses // stuffed animals

7 - Renaissance // blood-red lipstick // crushed velvet

8 - Greek mythology // handwritten letters // grey hair

9 - glitter // lollipop // ghosts

10 - free day

11 - coffee and cigarettes // impact play // musical theatre

12 - butch/femme // bondage // leather

13 - rainstorm // dom/sub drop // Shakespeare

14 - pirate AU // worn-out sneakers // candlelight

15 - free day

16 - tattoos and piercings // fishnet // hair dye

17 - Old Hollywood // hoop earrings // Hawaiian shirt

18 - high school/college AU // pet play // pearls

19 - gloves // labyrinth/maze // love triangle

20 - free day

21 - apples and pears // stained glass windows // double penetration

22 - burger and fries // Coca Cola in a glass bottle // antique shop

23 - tiara // driving lessons // reality TV

24 - silk pajamas // acrylic nails // enemies to lovers

25 - costume party // black nail polish // waterfall

26 - pencil skirt // smoothie // blind date

27 - murder mystery // slumber party // high-heeled boots

28 - black cat/golden retriever // ballet // sex shop

29 - the zoo // Oscar Wilde // reading glasses

30 - pride parade // daddy/mommy kink // brat

[darl-ingfics]

Concert Cooties

Fandom: ATEEZ

Sickie: Seonghwa

Caregiver(s): Hongjoong (the others are there, though)

Summary: It takes all of a day after their concert for Seonghwa to get sick, and it surprisingly, miraculously takes Hongjoong no time at all to get him to admit it.

Word Count: 2,390

Note: 1. I am still learning ATEEZ's personalities and relationships with one another, so sorry if they come off OOC. But this was the idea that has nagged at me recently. 2. All relationships were written platonic. 3. I don't know why there's so much exposition, but the puzzle subplot felt really important to me.

It was rare to have two weeks off in a row. Rarer still to have two weeks off right after a tour. Usually it was one week, then back to work. Which they rarely complained about; the adrenaline after a tour was absolutely exhilarating, and fueled creativity like no other. But it wasn’t like anyone was complaining about an extra break, either. 

The first day home, the team interacted as little as possible, catching up on sleep and refueling social batteries that had been dead for weeks. 

The second day home, at 10:04am, Hongjoong walked into the kitchen to find perhaps one of the most domestic scenes their dorm had ever been witness to. Puzzle pieces were scattered across the table, and Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho were in the process of dividing the pieces into two piles: edge and middle. Wooyoung was sitting at the head of the table, chin propped up in his hands, running quality control (or his mouth, if Jongho had anything to say about it). All four were still in their pajamas, (Yunho’s sweatshirt hood pulled over his head, Mingi wearing his glasses). The smell of coffee hung in the air, four gently steaming mugs placed strategically on the table to avoid the puzzle, the pot on the kitchen counter far from empty. 

Jongho was the first to note Hongjoong’s presence, quietly whispering, “I win,” to his hyungs gathered at the table. All eyes shifted dramatically towards Hongjoong. Mingi and Wooyoung both whined rather theatrically, their voices cancelling each other out aa Yunho playfully shoved Jongho’s shoulder.

“Good morning?” The leader held up his hands as if at gun point. 

Completely ignoring Hongjoong’s confusion, Wooyoung sat up straighter, “Hyung! Join our puzzle!” He pointed towards the work on the table.

“No! He’s gonna drop pieces again,” Yunho teased, shooting a heart-melting smile at the leader despite the insult. Hongjoong shook his head, smiling himself as he moved towards the coffee like a moth to a flame. 

“You’re not even part of this,” Mingi added, pushing Wooyoung’s shoulder lightly. Wooyoung whined, flopping back in his chair. 

“Joong-hyung, wanna start different a puzzle with me?” Wooyoung deployed his best puppy dog eyes. “It’ll be better than this puzzle!" But his attempt was curtailed but the sound of a door opening down the hall. 

“San!” Yunho exclaimed in a dramatic whisper, tapping the table twice to place his bet.

“Seonghwa.” Mingi tapped the table back.

“Hwa hyung.” Wooyoung tapped. 

“Hey, you can’t take my answer.”

“That’s not fair! We all know it’s not Sangie,” Wooyoung retorted. “We won’t see him for like, 29 hours at least.”

“That’s an odd number choice,” Jongho commented, almost entirely to himself as he was very absorbed in puzzle sorting. 

“What’s going on?” Hongjoong asked, slipping into the chair on Wooyoung’s right, which appeared to him to be the most out of the way of the puzzle. 

“We’ve been taking bets on whose awake every time a door opens,” Yunho replied. “Jongho guessed you last time.” The youngest gave a triumphant thumbs up, eyes glued to his task. Hongjoong nodded into his coffee cup as Seonghwa turned the corner into the room. 

Wooyoung and Mingi cheered, a double high five echoing loudly, prior bickering forgotten. Seonghwa started at the noise, as if he hadn’t realized there were other people in the room. 

Yunho looked over with a bright, “Good morning!” His face immediately fell, though, looking at the older man. Like the rest of them, Seonghwa was still in his pajamas, but, unlike the rest, he was wearing a mask. And the parts of his face that were visible looked so dreadfully exhausted, all pale skin and shadowed eyes, like all the life had been sucked out of him. To put it plainly, Seonghwa looked sick. Which was, unfortunately, something their eldest simply refused to acknowledge majority of the time. 

“Hyung, are you feeling okay?” Wooyoung asked, carefully, gently. There was a delicacy to dealing with a sick Seonghwa they’d all been forced to learn over the years. The problem, of course, was the unpredictability of their most uncooperative patient; there was no way to know how he’d respond to them at any given point in time. 

Seonghwa nodded in reply, surprisingly agreeable. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little under the weather.” A statement proven false instantly as he turned away from them, coughing harshly, a fist pressed against his mouth despite the mask. 

Yunho clicked his tongue. “Oh, hyung,” he cooed, pushing away from the table. His arms had barely reached hug height when Seonghwa flinched backwards, arms pulling into his chest, the violent suddenness of the movement freezing Yunho in place.   

“Don’t touch me! Please.” The last word was soft, a tad desperate perhaps, an attempt to smooth over the bite of the first ones. Yunho had yet to drop his arms, and while his lips had naturally defaulted to a pout, his eyes were much more sympathetic. “I… I’m sorry. I just… I don’t want any of you catching this.” Hongjoong frowned at that; an omission this fast meant Seonghwa felt significantly worse than he was letting on. He’d have to fix that. 

It was strange, Yunho would realize later, how in that moment Seonghwa simultaneously appeared as their ever-vigilant eldest yet also terribly fragile and young. Which was why Yunho rerouted his hug, gently cupping his left hand around Seonghwa’s face, his right hand moving to his forehead. “I’ll go wash my hands immediately,” the dancer promised, switching from the back of his hand on his palm. His frown deepened. “You feel warm. Have you taken anything yet?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “Can’t take anything on an empty stomach. That’s why I came in here.”

“Then why don’t you go back to bed and let us make you breakfast.” Hongjoong casually blew on his coffee mug before even looking up at his roommate. 

Even with the mask obscuring half his face, Hongjoong could read Seonghwa’s displeasure in the specific narrowing of his eyes. There it was, the denial demon; Seonghwa could admit to feeling unwell, but drew the line at anyone caring for him. “That’s okay, I can…”

“Then you won’t have to touch anything and risk getting your germs everywhere.” The already quiet room grew deadly silent, four pairs of eyes volleying back and forth between their eldest members. Hongjoong knew this song and dance, and had skipped straight to his trump card: Seonghwa’s fear of infecting others. Hongjoong held his friend’s gaze, watching the initial fire in his eyes dim as the reality of Hongjoong’s words set in, and then burn out entirely with compliance. His posture followed suit, arms falling limply back against his sides as his shoulders sagged, as if the weight of this charade had been a much bigger burden than expected. 

“Okay. Fine.” The room was silent as Seonghwa shuffled back into the hallway. 

“Hyung, that was mean,” Yunho chided as soon as they heard Seonghwa’s door close behind him. The dancer moved towards the sink to wash his hands as promised, flipping on their electric kettle with his elbow. 

“Hyung, that was impressive!” Wooyoung gaped at the leader, then at the empty doorway, and then back to to Hongjoong. 

“How did you learn to do that?” Jongho asked, genuinely impressed. His full attention was on Hongjoong now rather than the puzzle.

“Do what?” Hongjoong asked innocently. 

“Get Seonghwa-hyung to give into being taken care of?” “I learned from the best.” Jongho cocked his head to the side, prompting more. Hongjoong nodded towards the doorway. “The devil himself.” 

Mingi applauded. 

Wooyoung gasped. “You are in sooo much trouble.” 

Hongjoong snickered to himself as he got up to join Yunho in the kitchen. “He can be mad at me all he wants. That’s not gonna cure his concert cooties.” As Yunho poured the now boiling water from the kettle into a travel mug (smart, Hongjoong noted), the leader poked around in the fridge. They had a pitiful amount of food prepared, but thankfully some simple rice and vegetables sat in perfect microwaveable containers. He’d have to pay San back for those veggies later, but also knew the other man wouldn’t mind if they used his food for the sake of his precious Hwa-hyung. 

“Concert cooties?” Mingi laughed, turning to face Hongjoong, who was decidedly pushing the buttons on the microwave to avoid his gaze. 

The leader shrugged. “What else would you call it?”

“Concert crash?” Mingi offered. “Concert curse? Concert contamination?”

“Those are good, but I still like concert cooties best,” Yunho said, leaning forward against the kitchen counter. 

“Concert contamination sounds like an apocalypse movie,” Wooyoung replied. He nodded to himself, eyes far away. “It would either a cinematic masterpiece, or complete trash.” 

“Well, let us know when you’ve written the script and we can let ya know,” Hongjoong said as the microwave beeped in ‘done.’ After removing the warm bowl from the microwave, Hongjoong carefully accepted the travel mug from Yunho in the other. “I’m off to fight the dragon currently residing in my roommate’s bed.” 

“Good luck, valiant knight.” Yunho gave a sweeping bow, much to the delight of Wooyoung and Mingi. 

“Let us know if you need back up, hyung,” Jongho added despite still being absolutely zoned into his project. 

“And then you can come back and help us with the puzzle!” Wooyoung cheered. 

“You are not one of us; this is not your puzzle!” Mingi countered. 

“AHHHH! Just let me help!”

Hongjoong laughed to himself again as he backed into the hallway. He fought the urge to stick out his tongue as a means of maintaining his balance, shuffling his socked feet along the floor to risk spilling anything. Luckily, his efforts were successful. 

Without knocking, Hongjoong shouldered open the door to his room, which Seonghwa had thankfully left cracked open. His roommate didn’t notice him at first as he pitched forward, sneezing twice, “HhtCHU! Heh-ETchu!” 

“Bless you.” 

The sharpness of Seonghwa’s glare wasn’t hindered at all by the tissues obscuring the bottom half of his face. “I’m mad at you.” He sniffled harshly, wiping at his nose and throwing the used tissues into the trash bin he’d moved from the desk next to his bed. 

“I know.”

“How dare you use my own methods against me?”

“Well, why’d you teach them to me in the first place if not to use my powers for good?” That earned him an even sharper glare. “You’ll thank me for this. Promise.” 

“Sh-huh-shut up.” His breath hitched again, and snatched another tissue to his face before his body sagged, the impulse lost. “Shut up.” 

Hongjoong smirked. “No comeback? Is it because you know I’m right?”

“You should be nicer to me.”

“Cause you’re sick?”

Seonghwa responded by pitching forward with that third sneeze, desperate and followed by a raspy, “Fuck this.” Hongjoong instantly felt bad for teasing him. 

“Bless you again.” Hongjoong offered the bowl. “Eat up so we can get you medicated.” Seonghwa accepted the bowl without further argument. Hongjoong watched him eat the first three bites before asking, “What kind of meds would you prefer? Liquid or pills? Any preference?”

“Whatever’s strongest.”

“Got it. You eat. I’ll be back.”

The trip to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom was quick and uneventful. The strongest medication they had was the nighttime drowsy stuff, but Hongjoong figured it didn’t particularly matter. More sleep would be ideal, actual. 

When Hongjoong returned, proudly brandishing the medicine bottle, Seonghwa was eating as told but his eyes were focused somewhere beyond the wall he was starting at.

“Do you think Yunho’s mad at me? For snapping at him?” the older man asked before taking a bite of rice. 

“Not at all.” Hongjoong shook his head. Seonghwa instinctively pulled his knees to his chest to make room for Hongjoong at the end of his bed. “He knows you don’t feel good. He actually made that tea for you.” Seonghwa looked thoughtfully at the mug on the bedside table. When he didn’t say anything else, Hongjoong took the opportunity to crack open the medicine bottle. “The strongest shit we have is gonna knock you out, by the way. It’s the nighttime stuff.” 

“That’s okay.” Seonghwa’s voice was soft, small almost. “I don’t wanna be sick.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He measured out a dose of the amber liquid and handed it over. Seonghwa took it and downed the cup without a fight. Hongjoong smiled, squeezing his friend’s knee. “I’m sorry the concert cooties got you.”

A dry but genuine laugh shook through Seonghwa’s entire body. “Concert cooties. Who came up with that?”

“Me. What do you think?”

“Don’t quit your day job.”

“And here I was planning to go into marketing.” Seonghwa laughed again, and Hongjoong couldn’t help smiling with him, patting the older man’s knees affectionately. “Okay, there, we got you food, meds, and laughter. Perfect ingredients to kick this cold’s ass.” 

“Thank you, Joong. For putting up with me. I.. it means a lot.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now go to sleep.” 

When Hongjoong returned to their room ten minutes later, the bowl on the nightstand was empty and Seonghwa was fast asleep, curled up on his side. Hongjoong smiled, unable to resist the urge to run his fingers through his roommate’s hair, but angel soft to risk waking him. That urge was followed by another to snuggle up with Seonghwa, with his silky hair and peaceful expression, nothing like the daggers and fire he’d been minutes ago. This softness certainly wasn’t something Hongjoong expected to feel at this moment when his roommate was so clearly sick and, by all definitions, gross. Not to mention he knew Seonghwa would be so upset later if Hongjoong did catch this cold from him. And that more than anything convinced him otherwise.

So Hongjoong settled for tucking his JJOONGrami plushie into his roommate’s arms, trusting the stuffed animal to provide the cuddles he couldn’t personally supply. 

(Wooyoung was never admitted entry to the current puzzle, because the bit was too funny to Yunho and Mingi. When San finally emerged from his room, he took pity on Wooyoung and started a second puzzle with him. They did not, indeed, see Yeosang for exactly 29 hours after Wooyoung said they would.)

[koolades-world]

Big S is in the house aka.dude who always writes way too long requests🗣️

Happy 2k followers and here is a request

"what're you doing out here at this hour?"

"you're so cute, it hurts"

"to me, you're perfect. i don't care what anyone else says"

With my one and only babyboy Asmodeus, Assmuah, Asmuadelisa, the best boy in universe and my husband i do not accept other opinions 🥰

So Asmo was gone for entire day for work, like majorish stuff where he was working at his new collection of makeup and modeling and other things, and something got him insecure, that new collection is not good enough, or is modeling is not perfect, like someone said that he is not natural enough in his poses or that the pigment of eyeshadow is not bright enough, overall bro stressed out and came late.

"what're you doing out here at this hour?" MC is like "bro ur ok? Where uve been, it's late"

And when he tells them they are like "you're so cute, it hurts to see you so stressed, i wish i could come with you to help you with that, but i can't bro im not a pro at that shi, want a therapy cuddle?"

And they cuddle while watching some Romantic Comedy that Asmo would love even tho MC doesn't really like them. and MC is like "to me, you're perfect. i don't care what anyone else says" and they muah muah and cute fluff of two cute patooties i love my husband give me some cuddle fluff my request making machine(/j)🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

thank you!! great to see you again :)

i just want to say i absolutely love the way you spun the you're so cute it hurts one??? that's so genius and i would've never thought to use it that way

enjoy <3

prompts 29, 32, and 37 w/ Asmo

“Mr. Asmodeus, ready to head home?” One of Asmo’s dedicated helpers from Majolish poked their head in the door of his studio.

“Are you closing up?” He looked up from the color wheel he was studying in comparison to the proposed and actual eye shadow pallet colors.

“I tried to get you twenty more minutes, but Ms. Ezos is about to fall asleep.” Ezos was the project manager who’d been working with him for his makeup line from Majolish. She’d been very helpful and sweet, and seemed just as invested in the production of the line as he was. The entire thing had been something of a struggle, and it felt like there was an obstacle around each corner. The latest issue was that the colors of his eyeshadow pallet weren’t what he imagined. They were supposed to be lots of different shades of pink with a couple other colors thrown in, but none of the pinks are what he’d imagined or proposed originally. To him, they all looked too similiar.

“It’s alright. What time is it?” He yawned and took a sip of his water in an attempt to wake himself back up.

“Just past midnight.” The helper checked their watch.

“I didn’t realize it was so late. I’ll pack up my things.” With a sigh, he gathered up all this things and packed them away. He grabbed his bag and with one last look at the test pallet, left the room. The helper locked it behind him. He knew he’d be back in that room sometime tomorrow.

“I think you did really great today.” They trailed after him.

“Thank you. It does need some work. I don’t think I’m happy with it yet.” He took some of the samples home with him to compare with items he owned to see if it actually wasn’t the color he wanted, or if he just needed rest. He left the studio without trying to look for Ezos or anyone else he’d worked with. They probably had went home already anyways. His assistant waved him off, promising to let everyone know he’d gone home.

Since Majolish wasn’t far from home, he walked to and from the studio. Most everything was closed, save for a couple shops. None of his favorites were open, so he had no excuse to stop and shop to lift his mood. When he got home, the house was silent. He made his way to his room to put this things down and get ready for bed. He went for a bath and changed into his pajamas. He sat and thought for a little bit before deciding to eat a little something before bed, as he couldn’t recall the last thing he ate.

He made his way downstairs, and purposely avoided looking at all the clocks on his way there. He opened the fridge to look for something to eat, and when he shut it, you were standing there. It scared him a little.

"So, what're you doing out here at this hour?" Mc was holding a bowl full of snacks, which they set down, implying they'd been in the kitchen in the entire time. He had totally missed them.

"Mc! I'm just a little hungry is all. I've been working on my new makeup line all day." His stomach growled at the thought of eating again.

"Asmo, it's almost two am. You left before I even woke up this morning. You need to treat yourself better. You're so cute, it hurts to see you like this." He couldn't meet your eyes, because you looked genuinely upset.

"I know I've been slacking more recently, but it's only because I'm putting everything into developing.

"You look worn down. I can't offer much, but if you want, we can cuddle and watch something of your choosing?" You opened your arms, much to his delight. He rushed in and enthusiastically hugged you.

"You're just delightful! Can we watch a romcom?" He knew you weren't the biggest fan of them, but you did say he could pick.

"Of course. Lert's get you some food, then we can do that. It's important to fuel your body." He was glad he had you. You let him know what the family ate for dinner, which he opted to eat. The two of you went back to his room, where you put on a romcom of his choosing. He leaned heavily into your side while he was eating, and once he finished, he made sure you properly cuddled him. You were only half watching the movie he'd put on. You were mostly looking at him. He looked more relaxed now.

"Asmo," you said.

"Hmm?" He looked up at you.

"I think you needed to hear this, but you can tell me otherwise. To me, you're perfect. I don't care what anyone else says." You gave him a forehead kiss. He didn't respond for once, but he gave you a cheek kiss back that conveyed all the emotions he couldn't put into words. That's all he needed to hear, especially from someone he loved.