#i have my plans. rubs hands together like a flu

[autoboros]

Been a hot second since I've drawn her

Hogaraka my beloved

[takami-takami]

Like Animals.

kinktober day 4: sex pollen.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut

warnings— afab!reader. dubcon (sex pollen/heats, but both have been pining like idiots). breeding if you squint.

keigo's beloved crush sidekick gets hit with the unluckiest quirk possible. he quickly discovers his rut suppressants ain't shit.

Through all the horrors and adverse life events Keigo has endured in this line of work— brutal near-assassinations, negotiations with international crime syndicates, purchasing sugar-free canned coffee with Splenda substitute by mistake before his morning shift— he has always been able to find a silver lining in the darkest of moments. 

Which makes it infinitely more concerning that for the first time in his life, he nearly whines through his teeth the words, "why me?" 

A palm drags once down his face, thumb and index finger pulling down his darkened eye bags. His hand collects the beads of sweat and stops to rest over his mouth. 

He supposes this must be his penance for taking a risk and trusting faulty intel. 

Keigo's informant told him the villain he and his darling sidekick were meeting would have a limited-ranged fire quirk, so the diligent hero stuffed ointment and cold packs in his pockets before leaving just in case. 

If he had known the villain was a plant heteromorph and possessed a heat-inducing mist quirk instead, and that the person he was hopelessly in love with had a bit of a crush on would be caught in the direct line of fire? 

He would have brought a paper bag to hyperventilate into instead. And some prayer beads. The god to which the prayer is delivered doesn't necessarily matter, he thinks. He'd simply pick one and drop to his knees in a bid for mercy.

"I'm taking you to a medic," Keigo puts his foot down for the fourth time this evening. 

"Fuck no," you groan from the couch, shifting to squeeze your thighs together. It offers not even a modicum of relief from the incessant throb. "Do you want my cause of death to be humiliation? Is that your plan, genius? 'S bad enough as it is that you're here." 

The subtext is unspoken, but clear to him through your adorable pout: I only trust you to see me like this.

It's unlucky that the man you've had the most innapropriate-for-work crush on for the better part of two years happened to be the one beside you that day. And it's just your sorry luck, you lament, that Keigo would also be the one to catch you, to fly you home cradled in his painfully capable arms, to refuse to leave your side and insist on making his favorite chicken soup for you in a desperate flail of support. 

He'd respect your decision and leave, should you ask him to. You know that. And yet the humbling truth gnaws at your pride: doing so wouldn't do much to save your image at this point. He’s already seen you like this, you grumble. The proverbial cat has long since escaped the bag, waltzing its way over to rub its purring body against Keigo’s leg to your abject horror.

If you close your eyes, you can attempt to trick your brain into thinking this affliction is a flu of some kind. 

Yes, this is just some common cold. You're wearing nothing but your work partner's shirt (your clothes were contaminated by the quirk's dust, Keigo explained, speaking in that strict work mode voice that makes you picture your mouth stuffed and drooling somewhere beneath his desk and between his spread legs). You pull the damned fabric down over your core as you try your hardest to not writhe in fits of pleasure underneath the blankets, rubbing your thighs together for any friction against your swollen clit.

All symptoms of an affliction of the flu, of course. 

You don't need to reach down and touch to know the slick would string those thighs together, should you attempt to pull them apart. 

Keigo knows that, too. But he doesn't say anything about it. 

You would be mortified if you were aware of the truth. 

That he knows everything.

Keigo knows exactly how you ache; like you're constantly on the precipice of an orgasm, perpetually ablaze from the heavy heat scorching your body from its surface to the boiling core. 

You try to suppress your glee as he spoon feeds you the broth, reminding yourself that this is just what good friends do for each other.

Friends coo praises at each other when they swallow, friends tilt each other's chins up with one finger and mutter things like that’s a good dove and you can take another as they watch their throat bob in tandem. 

Friends shiver from their wingtips down their spine when they pull the spoon back. They let their gaze linger for just a second on those lips that open wide, aching to touch with their own.

Ever the gentleman, Keigo stays lowered to his haunches and places one hand over your forehead to check for a fever, redirecting his focus toward taking inventory of your vitals. He doesn't wince when he hears your moan at the contact, even though the pitiful sound pings at his weak points. His avian instincts remind him he needs to protect you, please you, take care of you; to make it go away, to fix that feeling he knows better than anyone is aching like a bruise between your thighs. 

He doesn't allow his eyes to wander astray or trail their way downwards, especially when you're in such a vulnerable state; but his professional assessment is that if he could only wet his appetite, the flat of his tongue alone could— 

He shakes his head and blows a puff to cool the soup, raising another spoonful to your lips. 

"Here. Another. You need to keep your energy up," he reminds you, voice stern. It's nearly clinical and achieves the opposite of its desired effect.

Your heart rate picks up to thump at a steady, thrumming beat at the innocuous gesture of domesticity. 

How have you never noticed how capable of a mate Keigo would be…? He’s all musculature and sincerity, sharp ridges at his knuckles and soft curves at the small of his waist where he only trusts you to touch.

You huff an involuntary moan. 

He picks another god to praise that the couch you're laying on obscures his lower half. 

Today, Keigo discovers his suppressants are only designed to reduce the chance of a rut being triggered. It brings the possibility of it starting in the first place to a comfortable near-zero, allowing him to carry out the spring and fall seasons as if he were entirely quirkless.

But if that rut passes through the blockers' biochemistry in, say, the event Keigo's luck rears its ugly head, for example… It does fuck all to reduce the actual symptoms. 

More importantly than his own anguish, however, is this: his mate work partner got hurt because of him— hurt being a stretch, he'd know if he weren't overthinking so much, given the blissed out panting just two feet away from him; but you’re probably suffering and it's all his fault. It’s all because of an unlucky, once in a lifetime slip up from Keigo Takami himself, and he can't detangle himself from the guilt.

If drowning in the unexpected whirlpool that is his first rut in half a decade is his penance for the crime, then Keigo will hang his head and take it.

The huff he lets out is your last straw.

"I'm going to my room," you state, moving to leave like you left the stove on and are trying to avoid an upcoming house fire.

When his hand darts out to stop you, the touch against your shoulder sends shockwaves down your stomach.

He's touching you. He's taking such good care of you, feeding you, providing for you in his nest and now he's touching you?

It sends your hormones into overdrive. 

You'd do well to conceal it, if his heightened instincts couldn't smell your desperation. 

"I'm afraid it ain't that easy, dove," Keigo warns, eye contact averted. "I'd avoid doing that, if I were you." 

He schools his expression, but not before you catch a flash of something hungry. 

There's no chance in hell he's letting you out of his sight. Not like this. You're confined to the couch while he keeps an eye on you. Attempting to fix it yourself will only make the feeling unfathomably worse, something he tries to communicate to you with a look that only ends up making him look like a kicked puppy.

You squint right back when you process the implication of his words, eyes raking down his form in suspicion. 

"How do you know all this, anyway," you ask.

Keigo goes silent, hand concealing his mouth. 

Ah, it hits you. 

Bird things.

Your head falls back against one of the numerous pillows your partner propped up behind you.

"The couch is soft," you murmur, situating yourself against the cushions and throw blankets he so carefully arranged. You trail your fingertips along a silk pillow. Keigo slams his eyes shut.

"Please don't say it like that." 

"Why not?" Your lids droop, heat overtaking your better judgement. Tentatively, you play along the bounds. You allow your hands to run along the soft divots of the blanket covering your body, squeezing your chest and pinching the peaks. "It's like a little nest, isn't it?" 

His hand drags down his face before pinching his nose bridge, suppressing a whine. "Baby, please—" 

"You don't wanna join me?"

"You don't know what you're talking about. It's just the heat," Keigo tells himself more than you. "For the love of God, dove, stop talking—"

"But it hurts, Kei'." It’s a low blow, judging by the protective coo that escapes his lips. 

Fed up, he leans forward and swings his right leg over your hip, crawling atop you as if his body has a mind of its own, utterly bogged by desire and yanked like puppet strings.

With Keigo kneeling tall above you, the bodysuit of his hero costume hides absolutely nothing. The musculature is quite impressive, actually. Proof of his viability as a mate— all dominant and masculine and gorgeous.

And at this angle, you can see the most painful erection straining against his pants. 

"I need you, Kei'. I need— mmph!" 

A palm silences you; slapped down, hot, imposing, and heavy like a weight against your mouth. 

The authority of the action makes your cunt clench; and Keigo would die before he lets that feeling go to waste, so his hips drop down to grind once against it. 

Your eyes go wide, doughy and stunned, darting down in haste, following the trail of his thick bicep up toward the disciplinary scowl on his face. 

His nostrils flare with the heaving in his chest, eyes screwed shut with his last slivers of patience holding its grip on his psyche.

"One more word," he says, pulling his hand away. "One more word and I'm ripping this blanket off and fucking you raw." 

After a moment of silence, you speak.

"Please." 

Keigo is wordless when he unbuckles his belt and lets it— and his inhibitions— drop with a satisfying clink.

The reality of what you've gotten yourself into comes crashing down as it hits you how utterly fucked you are. The scaffolding of years of sexual tension comes crumbling down like bricks to rubble, a city of restraint reduced to pure, animalistic desire. 

Years of Keigo's eyes darting away when you nonchalantly change into your uniform in front of him, even though he never seemed bothered by any of his other peers doing the same; years of you both curling in on yourselves at the furthest edges of the bed you had to share, cramped close in those under-the-radar motels on stealth missions; years of the words "idiot, can I kiss you," held back by your lips as you watch Keigo moan when he sinks his teeth into his comfort restaurant's chicken teriyaki every stupid Friday night, sitting cross-legged and at home on the carpet of your apartment floor. 

Not a single word is exchanged as he pulls his cock free from its confines, nearly too thick for his fingers to meet when they wrap around it. He tosses the blanket to the side with haste, dragging your shirt (his shirt) up to your collar, exposing your chest when he lines his cock with your entrance. 

"Please, Kei'," you sniffle. "Hurts." 

"Oh, I know, baby... I know." His lips are pursed when he shushes you, tracing your cheek with his palm. "I'll make it go away."

When your lips meet, it's like static electricity; and it's entirely remorseless.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groans against your mouth, dragging his length along your sticky thighs before plopping the thick of it atop your soaked cunt. 

"You're so wet for me," he reveres in awe, dragging the plump tip through your mess to get it slick enough to rub against your clit. 

Your rutting hips buck with impatience in an attempt to glide his length against your swollen pussy, but that only serves to fuel his desire; and those desperate little whines only feed into his insatiable need to fuck, to breed you until you're silent. 

Until you shut the fuck up. 

Those pathetic little sounds are music to his ears, a siren's song that used to play only in his most shameful fantasies; the ones that kept his fist tight around his cock the moment he returned home after missions, the sight of you panting and spitting blood after battle with a smile on your face still fresh in his memory. 

Keigo wants to hear you moan. 

But his rut needs to fuck you wordless with satisfaction. 

"Oh, fuck," he hitches, shifting his hips back and forth to the tune of the audible shlicks below. Unable to stay upright any longer, his chest falls flush into yours in a rut-afflicted haze, rutting against you like animals. 

When he slips his cock inside, it's with a kiss to muffle his voice.

And he wastes no time setting a punishing pace, aided nicely by the slickness that coats the sides of his cock. The legs of the couch surely must be scraping indents into the floorboards, judging by the creaks that mingle with the sounds of his belt buckle at every thrust. You'd notice if either of you were lucid enough to care. 

It's a brief consideration of a possibility of an afterthought, like a sheepish voice behind a roaring crowd. 

Pulling out, that is. 

Yeah, if he were a stronger man, he could probably will his hips to stall. There's a chance someone far stronger than him would hiss when he does it. His cock would weep in denial of that sweet, velvet entanglement, dripping out in the cold when he fists himself to completion mere inches away from what might as well be the center of his goddamn universe.

But when it comes to you, when it comes to his rut, Keigo is not a strong man.

He allows his cock to throb in the vice of your cunt, instead.

"God, baby," he moans into your neck, wings flapping once, twice with each thrust, shedding a few feathers before straightening out and grazing the ceiling behind his back. "Baby. Oh, baby. You're so tight. You're so— fuck!"

He's babbling, but so are you. Legs hooked across the small of his back, you bump your hips as best you can to aid in his efforts; and with your last shreds of lucidity, you decide for the both of you how things will end. 

With watery lashes, you open your eyes enough to blink away some tears and clear your vision just enough. Your gaze crawls up his legs that are still clothed to the thighs, peeking over the curvature of his ass and up his shuddering spine— all to mark onto your scarlet red prize.

When you entangle your fingers into the downy feathers at the base of his wings, it shoots straight to his cock and he spills.

With eyes wide open and a strangled choke at the back of his throat, Keigo's hips stutter when he empties himself. With every throb comes another rope from the tip, sticky and excessive from the rut, mixing with your wetness as you crash over the edge soon after.

When the ringing in your ears ceases and you finally come to, it's to the sight of your now probably-more-than-a-work-partner pulling out and staring between your legs as if under a trance, eyes glimmering.

"Kei', you okay?"

"Uh huh," he answers absentmindedly, utterly transfixed on the mess he made. 

It's strange, he thinks. Whatever urges his rut transcribed into cravings, every instinct that tugged at the avian etched in his DNA and called him to fill you pales in comparison to the satisfaction of having indulged himself at last.

His eyes flick back to meet yours.

"Does this mean I can kiss you at work now?" 

You snort. So that's where his mind goes in the end.

"It means a whole lot more than that," you say, rolling you both over so he lands square on his back.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

heyyyyy, I saw that your requests ar open and I had an idea - could you write vessel taking care of sick reader? like absolutely babying the shit out of them😭😭😭 I've been sick for like a week and it sucks

I hope you are feeling better, gorgeous. We probably switched sicknesses. Cause I’ve been knocking on hell’s door all week. Idk what sort of shit I brought back from Germany with me.

Sickly

Vessel knew something was wrong the moment he opened his eyes. He felt too warm. The right side of him felt like a blazing furnace. He turned slightly towards the warmth. The sleepy state he was in did not let him grasp reality fully. That’s until he’s met with your body. His brows instantly knit together. You always ran cold. Like a little frog. You two always joked that it’s what made you both destined for one another. Vessel was always too hot and needed something or in this case, someone to pour his warmth to. And you were always cold, meaning that any warmth was always welcome.

Now your body seemed to be radiating the warmth back. The forehead that was pressed to Vessel's bicep was burning up. Reaching his arm out, Vessel softly rested it on the side of the face. Your skin felt clammy and just like he suspected way too warm. The nasal breathing only added to his suspicion. You had finally fallen ill. After battling whatever that you had caught on the very end of their tour. You had been a trooper. Downing a couple of cold pills and calling it a day as you screamed your lungs out watching your boyfriend perform. Now your little body had fallen victim to your demise.

Turning slightly Vessel, tried to get out of bed without disturbing your already restless sleep. Only to be met with a grunt. “Don’t”, you muttered, “that felt nice”, you motioned to your forehead, eyes barely open. “Darling, the fact that my skin feels nice against your forehead means you have one hell of a fever”, Vessel leaned forward, brushing damp hair from your face. “I don’t”, you protested. “I’ll grab you some meds and will be back in no time”, he promised, rubbing your head a couple of times, before getting up to leave.

In moments like this, he was glad that he was slightly paranoid about illnesses and medication. His med cabinet was always stocked. With both meds you took, just so you would need to take any from your apartment or have them at hand when needed. But also with anything one might need in pretty much any basic medical emergency. Knowing that he could ask efficiently and quickly eased some of his nerves.

But Vessel’s heart didn’t break any less when he walked back into the bedroom to find you practically shivering, curled into the plush blanket. “Take these”, he softly reached out, pushing his hand beneath your head and lifting it up so you wouldn’t choke on water. Before reaching for a thermometer. The loud and much more alarmed beeping only proved what was obvious. “What hurts?”, Vessel asked, softly brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You blinked slowly, the pale skin made Vessel sick to his stomach. You opened your mouth only for a nasty cough to cut you off. “General cold and flu symptoms or are you feeling anything else?”, he asked, glad when you shook your head. That meant that the medicine would probably work even if he was gonna book a family doctor appointment for you regardless of the moment you fell asleep. “I’m really cold”, you whispered. “It’s the fever. You need to sweat this out, baby, I’ll grab you one more blanket”, he muttered. “It’s disgusting”, you grunted, turning deeper into the pillow. “You’re sick, nothing is disgusting about it”, Vessel reassured you as he draped one more blanket over you. “You will… leave when I change this and wash”, you pointed to the sheets that were already damp with your sweat. “Love, I couldn’t care less”, he muttered, “Plus, you can barely keep your eyes up how do you plan to keep yourself up in the shower?”

And his words made sense but you had never been so ill in front of him. It felt vulnerable and scary that the ugly side of reality was coming to bite you in the ass. “Don’t ever think about”, Vessel mused, “As your doctor, I’m against your overthinking now”. You shot him a tired smile. “Doctor Vessel, hmm”, you coughed, “Sounds naughty”. Vessel shook his head smiling as well, “Yeah, maybe after you’ve not fighting for your next breath”. You frowned, “Don’t say it like that it sounds like I’m dying”. “No one is dying, darling”, he reassured you, pressing his palm over your forehead, softly brushing it over your head, watching your eyes growing heavy.

[simply-trash5]

heeeyyyy do you happen to do trigun 🥺👉👈 also BNHA DILFs is such a vibe rn can we have sum yummy hcs pretty please 🤤 i can't decide who so dealers choice 🥴

Heyyyy anon sweetie!

Sorry I am just now replying, I have the flu so miss girl is struggling. I am planning to watch Trigun so I don’t do it yet, but please come back soon and request because I will once I watch it ✨

So BNHA DILFs huh? Yummy HC will be under the line.

First and foremost let’s assume that all of my DILFS are divorced DILFs ✨ single and on the prowl…

Let’s start with Daddy OneforAll:

DILF Izuku is that big hunk of man with the boyish charm that has NO IDEA how sexy he truly is. I have this idea about you meeting him in the park while he plays with his kids. His kid will accidentally throw a ball where you are reading a book in the shade of a tree and here he comes to retrieve it. Curls falling in his face, a blush covering his cheeks when he notices your beauty that makes his freckles pop…he will stammer a little when he asks for your number…

Next thing you know you’re in his apartment. He arranged for a sitter for his kids and he took you on a date; now he has you on his couch kissing sweetly on your neck asking you if all of this is okay. His large scarred fingers are playing at the hem of your shirt ready and willing to all but rip it from your body.

DILF Izuku is patient and wants to take his time worshipping every inch of your body when he has you laid in front of him. He treats you like a goddess came to earth just for him as he watches you come undone from his tongue while you beg for him to fuck you mercilessly.

“Don’t worry sweetheart…I’m going to give you exactly what you want. Gonna take care of you…”

Next up DILF Bakugo:

Now I HC you meet him at some event for his children. I think his daughters are dancers and maybe you are their instructor and when he caught sight of you in your tights—all bets were off. He began to flirt here and there until he finally was bold enough to ask for your number and take you out.

Now you are bent over his bed being absolutely wrecked as he is pounding into you with a handful of your hair. He is all muscle and hard planes bent over you growling into your ear—“that’s right, be a good fucking girl ‘f me”

Now once he’s made sure he’s ruined you for anyone else he’s going to spoil the absolute shit out of you and show up at your studio all the time—even on patrols just to give you kisses or food or little gifts he thinks you’ll love because you’re one of his girls now and

“I’ll always take care of my girls…”

Now on to DILF Kirishima!

You meet DILF Kiri at the gym—at kids gym of course! He’s taking his little one to kids gym for a day of fun but he catches sight of you lifting and decides you need a little…help..on your form. So he leaves his little one in the caring hands of the instructors and comes over to ask if you want some help. You are stunned and maybe a little grumpy (which he finds cute) but sure why not. After a little fun banter you ask him for his number because he’s hot and you haven’t had a good fu—I mean date in a while.

One thing leads to another and Kiri has you in a mating press in his bed rubbing circles on your clit with those large fingers. You’re in shambles over his frame pressing on you and his cock hitting that spot so well and he’s cooing how ‘aww pretty girl you are doing so well don’t cry’ as he is wiping your tears. After you have came more times than you can count and he has marked you with his teeth—he cleans you up in a warm shower together and you lay in his soft bed as he strokes your hair and tells you how beautiful you are. You’re whipped and he’s whipped.

Now you’re going to the gym with him and bringing him lunch to the agency and prancing around in Red Riot merch as his little girlie friend. Good thing you’re getting speared by his dick every day that ends in a “y”. You’ll be moving in soon.

DILF simps come get yalls juice—lemme know if you want any other DILFs ✨❤️

[noacfapologyst]

birthday wish - matty healy

(the birthday party; day one)

summary: matty, as his very best, has one of the best birthdays of his life and receives one of the warmest surprises he has ever had, with all the people he loves.

warnings: flufly stuff, sickness mentions. nothing more than this, is tender as well.

a/n: thank to @abiiors and @the1975attheirverybest for organize this incredible project! both are such an angels. the dates do not coincide in reality, so do not expect truthfulness in it, 'cause the tour continues in this universe and there are no haircuts, and also the english is not my first language.

wordcounter: 5,1k

Matty wants you to be with him at the exact time when the clock strikes midnight. It doesn't matter if you're an ocean away, just wait to hear you sing her happy birthday.

He knows that even if he wants you to, you can't come out the door. This shouldn't make him sad because it's something he's been facing for years.

You work for the UK's most influential finance company, and while the insistence on doing the work outside has been almost unbearable, Matty knows that you love being in your office or doing the work in the house where you both live together. God, that sounds good.

Officially he's a year older, and without wanting to touch sentimentality, he just feels tired when he rests his head on the white pillow in the hotel room. He doesn't look at his phone screen for a long time, just think about how you're going through the flu that kept you from coming with him to New York.

In the meantime, you have other plans that doesn't involve fever, soup, and phlegm.

You look at your phone screen, you know it's past 12 in New York, so Matty is oficially 35 years old.

It's four in the morning in England, and once again you confirm how much you hate such an abysmal difference in schedules. You could call him now and tell him you still have the flu, but he'd end up figuring out the trick.

Maybe when it's six o'clock in the morning you can greet him with more credibility.

For now, you finish arranging the house and the final touches before taking the suitcase as you sigh out of the house.

--

"Honeeeeeeeeey" Matty literally jumps into bed making them both jump. You rub your forehead and he gives you an innocent smile. It's not an argument at all, but he's gone dumb. "Come on, fly with me to York.

"Matty, I can't." You straighten up on the mattress, giving it room to rest its head on your trunk. "I would love to go, but it's impossible." You wrap your fingers around her hair and massage it into circles. You hear him purr like he's been waiting for him all day. "I have a lot of work, we have like fifty new clients or something like that. I can't apart myself from the company, i really sorry."

"I'm not saying you get apart, you still can work through your computer." He turns to see you with a pretty sad look in his features. "I don't want to be annoying, it's just…it will be my birthday. The first with you as my girlfriend."

"Hey, i can't even say how much i'm sorry, but i really do." You grab his right hand and squeeze his, on your way to kiss his head a desperate fit of coughing interrupts you. "Shit, I'm ill."

It doesn't sound so convincing, but if all goes well, an idea begins to form in your head that might consecrate you as bride of the year.

"But hey, babe, I'm going to reward you when you return. I promise." You see him unravel at your touch, watching him as he indulges in sleep. While he is awake closing his eyes, you whisper into his ear. "You're going to have an incredible birthday, Matty."

- - -

Even though spring has been running through London for over a month, the dawn suddenly turns cold. Not only because you got sick in the course of two days, (even if you did it on purpose and forced yourself to sneeze around the corners), but also because everything feels a little tense in your room. Matty's not mad, obviously he knows he can't get you out of the country in the middle of a flu outbreak let alone by force, but he's pretty sad about getting used to the idea of spending his birthday away from you. It's satirical to him, they've officially been together for nine months, but you've spent more birthdays near him than it looks. By chance or fate, they were always in the same bars or pubs where they celebrated their years of life.

What's ironic, too, is that they met after a financial argument. It was 2017, you were relatively new to the company and Dirty Hit needed a safe backing, betting on the company you still work for. At first there were no complaints, until a money leak was triggered and backing the company you basically went to the studio to talk to Jamie in pretty strong terms.

In the end, there were no dead to bury, everything worked out. What you did bury was your washing soap shirt, thanks to Matty literally spilled his coffee machine on you when you were about to leave. It wasn't a good day for anyone, your folders just fell off and picking them up you bumped into Matty, in a semi-sleeping state with coffee running over your skin and a cheap apology as he opened his eyes surprised enough. Then it just happened for some reason, they both found fun in the same places. It was too many years of seeing each other at nightclubs maybe four times a year, saying hello from afar and going on, until a year and a few months ago they needed an insurance upgrade, which gave you another visit to Dirty Hit, no spilled coffee this time.

Matty asked for your number, then he bought you a drink, and here they are, saying goodbye to each other.

"Hey listen, call my mom if you feel bad or if you need something. At least promise me this." Kiss your head as they both walk towards the front door, you wrapped in a blanket and him between bags and suitcases.

"I'll do." You reassure him with a broad smile. "Stay safe, love you."

"See you soon, love." You and him kiss quickly as he presses his thumb on your cheek. "Love you, too."

"Matty."

"¿Yes"

"You're forgetting something, dude." You unlock your chain with a small white stone hanging, to lock it around her neck later. "Now it's okay." You steal a hug and when they finally part, the taxi comes to the door. "Bye."

"Bye." He greets you with hishand and throws the first accessory he has at hand, his bracelet.

You hate to say goodbye to him when he goes to the airport, and even though you'll see him in two days, you still hate him. You're so used to waking up with him, having its scent all over the house, that when that bubble disappears, you hate what it's created at some point. It hasn't been five minutes and you miss him like you haven't seen him in months.

You squeeze his bracelet. It's their little tradition. Every time one goes on a journey, both exchange accessories in a way to show the other that they are still there even at a distance. You don't remember when it started, but you like the sentimentality of the issue.

Now, of course Matty's right: you'll call Denise. You already have, actually. She's aware of all the deception and she's the one who's most excited about it. He talked to Tom and Louis while you talked to Adam, because he's the least likely to reveal it to your boyfriend. It's not that you don't trust others, it's just that he's wiser for this.

- - -

You touch your head down because actually if you feel sick, maybe you've been too extreme, but you hope it's worth it. Denise calls on your portal with the car horn pulling you out of the trance, you get in the car and when you want to say something else you just fall asleep in the backseat.

Half an hour later, she wakes you up gently rocking you. She's so much like Matty you could cry, you love everything her family is and how you've been treated from the first day you walked through that door. Even if she's your mother-in-law, they get along incredibly well considering how fast they've connected.

"Are you sure about this?" She asks, handing over the car keys and lowering the suitcases from the trunk. "I mean, you look really tired."

"I know, I know. I spend the day thinking if i had everything, and thinking about the gift, and trying to organize the things with Adam, meanwhile i tried to not being colapsed by the numbers." The two laugh, she looks at you with a more relaxed expression and just lets her walls fall down.

"Matty is so lucky to have you." She murmurs with bright eyes and genuine happiness. "I don't know if I've ever met someone capable of getting sick just for surpise his boyfriend in his birthday…on the other side of the world." You think she's about to get emocional when her eyes start stinging, and she notices it. "I get a bit emotional but you know, my son is growing up next to someone who truly loves him, and as a mother you don't know how important it is to know that."

Well, now you'll cry.

"Oh god, I love you Denise." You drop your bags and embrace her with the greatest affection you've ever had. "I'll might cry."

She laughs tenderly. "Keep the tears for the show, darling."

----

The belief that it would be a seven-hour flight (plus the check-in hours, obviously) that would be somewhat exhausting and that it would take time to pass becomes part lie and part truth. You actually have a lot of fun with Denise telling you anecdotes of her life in the span of waiting time to board, you can't lie, but then on the plane you start to get bored after a few hours: you've seen a movie, you've slept, you've saturated your Spotify and you only think about how Matty will be. You feel guilty about the birthday message because you know he'll be worried thinking that something is up, but later you'll ask for forgiveness.

Happy birthdayy Matty. I love you so much, i hope you ́ll always be happy.

This is too short, but i feel totally sick. I'll send you a large text later.

Matty tosses and turns in bed heavily after waking up with that message as his first course. He sighs as he goes to the bathroom, looks at himself in the mirror running a hand through his hair. It feels terrible.

Well, you haven't forgotten his birthday, but he feels that you have. Maybe it's not that.

He knows you don't like him smoking too much, but you're not here and it's the only thing keeping him sane so he doesn't yell at you if he's done something wrong. He opens the window and collapses on the balcony floor, a cigarette between his lips. He exhales, he can't believe he's spending the time like that on his birthday.

He feels like he has a dagger stuck somewhere in his body, he feels tense and knows he's not in the bliss mode that someone should have on their birthday. But God, he hates to blame himself and blame you for things.

You've been weird for days, and yes, maybe you're sick, but in the months you´ve been with him you've never been this weird. Overthinking things isn't something he likes or does too much, but now he's debating whether something has happened and you don't want to tell him. He exhales again and relapses into the state of his cuticles, but as a cumpulsive reflex he bites them. Has he done something wrong? Has he crossed any limits? Did you get angry about something he didn't do? Did he forgot your birthday? No, he hasn't forgotten that.

Trata de no permitirse pensar en la pregunta más dolorosa para él: ¿Hay alguien más? ¿Estás cansado de él y de su vida de poca estabilidad? Bueno, en cualquier caso te merecerías algo mejor.

Adam knocks on the door as an answer to problems. He knows he has to take care of him until you make your appearance, but everyone is aware that he may not be in his best mood.

"Hey, birthday boy, how did you wake up?" When Matty opens the door, he hugs him and Adam knows his best friend needs him. "Matty, tell me."

"It's just…No, it's a silly thing." He regrets it fluttering his eyes, but collapses on the bed tiredly. "I'm tired, that's all."

"No, it's not. Something is affecting you, so definitely there is something more than being tired. You dońt have to fake it with me, you know." Adam knows the reason why he is like this, and although he wants to tell him that she's really on her way, he can't.

"It's her, Adam. She ́s been in a distant mode for days, acting strange." He shrugs, Adam sits on the other end of the mattress, sinking it. "Her greeting was a bit cold, or too generic. It's not typycal for her.

Adam feels really bad lying to his friend, he feels like a traitor, and he really struggles to find the right words. "Didn't you tell me she was sick?" He asks, and Matty sighs, nodding. "Should be this."

"yes, but.."

"Listen to me, really." Adam cuts him off and thinks about how much he can take this like this, he can't allow his partner to collapse before the show, much less the surprise. "She loves you, i d on't know the reason for his behavior and I would love to know so I can tell you, but unfortunately I don't know." Guilty, liar. "Despite that, you just turned 35, it's too early for the midlife crisis for a congratulation. The day is not over yet

Matty slurps as he swallows without the strength to continue the conversation, not in this tone at least. He doesn't have any argument to play in his favor and that makes him a little angry.

"You have a birthday show tonight, it will be nice."

- - -

Madison Square Garden will never cease to amaze you and seem practically huge. You do not manage to make the connection between the measures of the venue, it seems much bigger than it is. You have entered more than once, both as a spectator of shows or as you are now, as an accompanist of the band that presents on the day, and still it leaves you breathless how massive it is. Not in your best dreams would you imagine having the chance to tour it.

But, what makes you more sensitive is to hear so many people divided into the branches and sections of the seats and the standing field cheering, shouting and even crying with a euphoric amount of adrenaline in the body by the celestial and pink lights that illuminate the stage, decorated in its scenography representing a house with all the rooms. It's still hard for you to believe that you're dating the lead singer of a band that has mobilized so many people around the world for years. They have come to see the four of them, they have come to hear what is the story they have to tell and to show them their affection and loyalty as they identify themselves in tears in the four chords of their best songs.

In a way you think that's everything a singer expects, and that by the same token, it's the most sincere reason for the fans in front of Matty's birthday. Because even though you don't spend too much time on the floor, you manage to see posters related to her birthday.

The whole Healy family, followed by you, take refuge in George and Adam's dressing rooms, because even if you came out of a cake in Matty's dressing room when the delivery changes, you'd lose the idea you planned. Now, you just hope Matty doesn't find it weird enough that they switched The Birthday Party to Act 3, and Guys is almost after. I wouldn't have to do that, in fact, since it's a pretty emotional and pretty setlist to play on your birthday.

When Matty's nightmare act ends and he descends from the second stage you try to make as little noise as possible next to his dressing room, mainly because you're going to scare him. The one you're scaring is George, but he's covering it up by saying there was a spider in his dressing room. Then with a thumb sign him shows that everything is ready for the next step. When the act of Still at their very best (the last of the show) begins with If you ́re too shy, you get ready, two songs later you have to get the whole audience to see you, but not Matty.

Then, It ́s not living reaches the middle with a consecrated closure between the drums and the guitar. Cheers fill the place. The action then begins when all the screens change focus and signs appear saying that, in front of the people you will see now, keep quiet because it is a surprise for both Matty and the fans. There are confused looks, intertwined, nobody understands anything but they keep singing so as not to show that the screens have changed again.

The crowd wants to go crazy, and some screams escape when it's you who's seen go behind the scenes. For the sake of greater care, you go behind George's drums and ask everyone with your fingers to be silent on the subject. You sit behind the biggest drum and you see it over your head.

There he is, dressed up in his black pants, his white shirt and previously the suit jacket with the pants. His tie's almost untied, and it makes you laugh, you don't think he knows he tied it wrong. The curls fall in front of him out of control due to tiredness and sweat, but you think he's never looked better in years.

"Thanks for coming to see the greatest band in the world, the 1975!" The sticks resonate on the drum, the play of grey lights makes everything a little psychedelic. The crowd bursts into cheers without differentiating the why. "And today it's my birthday, so thank you for coming here. I love you guys."

There's a mixture of exasperated emotions all over the compound. Even you have glassy eyes to see him smile in such a pure way, his place has always been and always will be the stage in front of the fans, when he is freer than ever and where he feels comfortable. This particular show is not just important because of this event, but because in fact, it's the end of the tour. It's emotionally sad, the melancholy is reciprocal in the stadium because nobody knows when there will be a new tour of them.

"Yeah, I know, this is sad. It ́s ironic that my birthday will be the last show of the tour." He grins and laughs showing his teeth to the audience. "But, thanks for being here, is my biggest gift."

So, Matty freaks out when he hears a noise behind him.

"And it's not over yet, friend of mine." Absolutely everyone is surprised to hear George through the microphone resonating in the stadium, Matty doesn't understand what's going on either. "Ladies and gentleman, please everybody look at the screen."

What happens next is the best and the worst that Matty has had in front of him, cataloging it as the worst because when pictures of him appear when he was little with his mother and father, playing guitar or just being a kid, it makes him wiggle and feel like he could really die right there from the excitement. Without looking away, dazzled and uncertain but motivated to keep seeing him, he sits on the edge of the stage.

The atmosphere is automatically warm, but even the noise does not break it. The screen now changes, and begins with a greeting from George, pointing to a picture of when they were 13, how they have grown up so far and how you can't imagine a life without him, then closes Charly telling how much she enjoys talking to him, and how much fun he is in any situation. Then comes Adam, along with Carly, telling how he is the youngest of the group, but how important he is for both of them in their lives. Finally there is Ross, who talks about how fortunate he is to have him as a friend, how proud he is of everything he has accomplished and how much he appreciates his friendship.

Screen in black. Matty takes care of the tears because he suspects it doesn't end there, but his eyes turn to candy, all his factions calm down and he refrains from leaping into the arms of his friends.

You can't tell how many, but suddenly fans appear in the video, talking about how they've saved their lives through the band, the refuge it's for them and how much the band has done in terms of connecting them with their closest friends, and giving them a reason to keep fighting. Everyone laughs when they hear the reactions of the fans appearing in the video, realizing it.

Now yes, everything seems to indicate that it's over. Matty tries to stand up, but something stops him.

Her mother. On the screen.

Satirically, her greeting begins by asking if she thought they had forgotten about her, but without giving any room to react, Louis and Tom appear on the screen, their entire family in one place.

Really, Matty feels like the luckiest person in the world to have so much affection around him, he doesn't know if he deserves it, but he accepts it and feels like the feeling of familiarity and brotherhood envelops his body as his brother and his parents talk about how he's changed everyone's lives, the support he's been in his brother's life, and how the little boy who played the guitar off-tune at four o'clock in the afternoon has become a man made and upright, able to love and defend his people, with a exemplary talent.

Matty blinks, doesn't know how to go on now. He simply knows that he cannot ask for anything else for his life, he is loved by those he loves, and is reciprocated.

The screen lights up for the last time. You and Mayhem.

You look the at George, who cries just like you. He notices your gaze but responds only with a quick smile.

"Hey, honey, this will be short because I hope you know how happy I am to have you in my life." Matty stops controlling the tears, bathes in them, his shirt is full of water right now. So he remembers your message today, and he knows that you were behind all this, no one else would have done it this way otherwise. He sees his dog move his front legs and really misses him: "Happy birthday, I love you more than my words can prove. Thank you for being the most amazing, sweetest human being I've ever met. You're an angel and I love to agree with you." The greeting ends when you send a kiss to the camera, followed by Mayhem's osico in the foreground with a heart, with an M drawn.

The legend of The End stands on top. Everyone has cried, the makeup has gone off but this is the most intimate thing that everyone has experienced today. Everybody's grateful for coming to celebrate Matty.

"Could you please close your eyes?" Adam asks, and Matty is not the one who could say no.

Matty continues sitting, not moving. He can't process everything his head is telling him miles per second. He knows that he can't speak well enough after crying and will only say silly phrases, But it has to. Ross comes to his rescue and has a hand to lift him up. They hug with Matty crying on his shoulder while continuing to repeat that she loves him. Ross pats him on the back and points to Adam on the microphone.

He smells something as smoke, and he's right. Behind the scenes of the three entrances appear his mother, his father and Louis beside him with a rectangular cake with porcelain figures of the little house, and the four figures of the band, with a 35 as a candle.

Ross lets Matty go, and when the distance is unbearable, you're the one who runs to grab his hands when everyone screams to open his eyes. He opens them and finds you embraced to his body more tightly than ever. By inertia, he tightens the grip on your waist without ceasing to hug you. Now neither of us knows who to blame for the water running down the Briton's white shirt.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." You whisper incessantly, as he stabilizes in front of you, trying to get out of the surprise and accepting that you're actually in front of him, it's not a dream, he looks at the cake and cries again. He watches the audience feeling their heart pouring out into their hands. "Happy everything, my love."

He pulls you away from the grip when the birthday song rings out and has the cake in front of him without realizing it, but holds your hand in his fist. He coins it, and he protects it inside him. His smile is sadly short, but he has never had a greater look of genuine love on him than now. His wet eyelids, his face full of dry tears and his eyes glowing like never before. All thanks to you. He looks back at the cake and makes a face of utter surprise when he sees his figure made of porcelain sitting on the piano.

"Hey, that's me!" He's chirping like he's a kid who just ate a paddle he's seen in the store. Its essence is discovered there, that immeasurable happiness that creeps through all present.

He couldn't even think about how much he loves you because everything happens too fast, but he knows that after this he could never leave you. He doesn't know it yet, but this is the moment when Matty would close everything else. After this he would decide that you would be the woman of his life, that he would marry you and that they would have a family. You just kind of signed a sentence saying that he would never let anything happen to you and that if he had to lay down his life for you, he would.

George, Adam and Ross approach Matty as well, along with Polly, John and the rest of the band, all standing in a semicircle in front of the stage. The fire lights up Matty's face who has refused to block the touch of you two. You literally have to whisper his name in his face with a silly smile so he'll let you go and be the only one in the middle of the round.

The flashes of the phones illuminate the scene, there is the same chorus symphony composed of dozens of voices that work at the same time without prior coordination. No, it's not a movie and it's not a dream that someone's going to wake up from, it's really happening.

The fire dissipates, again the sound of clashing palms comforts the place. Denise leaves the cake on the piano and hurls herself at her son. She loves him so much, and is so happy that he can be really happy being who he is. The sequence is quite fast, his family hugs him, then the four hug and the difference in height is noticeable between the four males. Then goes Polly, Jhon and everyone else who's there. The show is delayed for the same reason, but nobody really cares about sacrificing a song to be part of this moment.

He opens his arms towards you and makes you fly through the air for a second before giving you his best Chesire Cat smile. Seize the moment to steal a quick kiss leaving behind the expanse of euphoria that surrounds them. For Matty there really is nothing else right now than him and you on the whole ethereal plane he's met at the age of 35. Fans disappear, the band and their parents too, as long as it merges into you in touch can only feel how they function the same way, being really a single soul trapped between two bodies. God, he's lovesick of the love he has for you, and he could throw it up right now, but surely all he could do is throw up his heart.

The contact ends, and finally he approaches the microphone.

"I really have the greatest persons and the greatest fans in the world. I ́m incredibly glad about it." He runs his hand through his hair and laughs, shedding his last tears. "Saying thanks it wouln ́t be enough, and I could never finish thanking you for all this, but i love each and every one of you, honestly."

Matty grabs his acoustic guitar almost the second he says that. The chords of The birthday party are heard. Everything is extremely special about this song and it is something narrow and deep, there is a truth to count on the song at this moment so charged with sentimentality.

Matty has spent years of his lost life without having a reason to keep him going, floating around while surviving, or trying to. He has come and gone as far as anyone could imagine, has suffered perhaps too much to expose his vulnerability. Indeed, he felt lost in hell during the most unbearably difficult years of his life. He's driven so many people away by his personality and by neglecting so many ties, but now he knows.

He has alienated so many people by his personality and by neglecting so many ties, but now he knows that although he may be late for some, he has enough with him. All your friends are here, in the same scene, no matter what that means.

The following of Guys in a much calmer tone makes everyone end up crying, their most personal song as a band. Matty feels the same as before, his friends have been the best thing that's ever happened to him, and they've saved his life thousands and thousands of times. He could not get used to the idea of lose them, because he would crumble without them in his life.

Just like he would do without you.

In the end, Matty makes fun of himself for being so bitter all day. He really had the best birthday of his entire life.

in my head this is a tender idea of ​​how much I would give way to see matty happy, so I hope that was achieved. also, happy birthday weekend matty you are the best.

let me know what you think, also let me know if you want to be on my tag list <3

[sicknessbysalem]

I am absolutely loving caretaker lex, seriously. The soren fics you’ve done plus the novak one (i didnt know they knew each other thats so fucking cool!). I am absolutely loving seeing lex in a caretaker position because the way he gauges everyone’s needs/wants and cares exactly how they need it is so amazing. However, that said I am such a sucker for burnt out caretakers getting sick/needing to be taken care of. Can we possibly see maybe its been a rough time for the band, everyone except for lex has been sick or something go wrong and Lex is just running himself down taking care of everyone. Maybe we can see them take care of him (as many of the group as you want!). Can we see some caretaker burnout (feel free to include any symptoms or whatever, i'm not picky!)

hello nonny!

i love this concept. especially with the way lex cares for everyone, i was already planning a fic with this general concept.

this fic is a mix of angst/plot and illness scattered throughout, as well as caretaker burnout.

if you have any more requests, questions, comments, etc., send them my way!

tw mentions of various illnesses (migraines, chronic fatigue, stomach flu, food poisoning), fever, pushing oneself until they break, guilt, panic, fainting, emeto

It had been two grueling weeks. Lex hadn’t kept count of the exact days—it all blurred into one exhausting stretch—but his body knew. It felt like he hadn’t sat down for more than five minutes without someone needing him. He was used to late nights and long days, but this was different. This wasn’t music or travel; it was the three people he loved dearly being struck by various sicknesses in rapid succession, leaving him scrambling to hold everything together.

It started with Soren. A migraine from hell had crashed down on him with no remorse, leaving him curled up in his darkened room, clutching his head with trembling hands. Lex had known what to do—Soren’s migraines were brutal, but they weren’t new. He brewed his strongest ginger and peppermint tea, fetched the migraine medication, and whispered reassurances as he rubbed Soren’s back in slow circles. He made sure Soren stayed hydrated and ate light meals when the nausea abated. It had taken four days for the migraine to finally loosen its grip, and in that time, Soren had barely moved from bed, his chronic fatigue compounding the ordeal.

The same night Soren emerged from the haze of his migraine, Malik stumbled into the living room looking pale and disoriented, clutching his stomach. Lex felt bad for the guy, really. He'd just abandoned his apartment and moved in with Lex an Soren a month ago and now this was happening to him. Lex recognized the look immediately and barely managed to guide Malik to the bathroom before the retching started. The stomach virus hit hard, leaving Malik feverish and weak, his body wracked by relentless nausea and vomiting. Lex stayed by his side, cleaning up when necessary and ensuring he sipped electrolyte drinks between bouts. He’d run the washing machine more times in those three days than he had in a month, all while trying to keep Malik comfortable and shield Soren from catching whatever Malik had.

When Malik finally stabilized, Ksenia was next. Her case wasn’t as severe—likely food poisoning—but Lex knew better than to downplay it. She’d been curled up on the couch, clearly miserable, as he brought her tea, crackers, and a gentle herbal remedy to soothe her stomach. Ksenia hated being fussed over, more so than the rest of them except maybe Lex, so Lex had tread lightly, offering support from a respectful distance. Even so, she’d still let him drape a blanket over her shoulders and check in quietly every hour or so.

Now, as the days stretched on and the worst seemed to be over, Lex felt the weight of it all settling into his bones. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept properly or eaten anything more substantial than a granola bar or a hastily grabbed piece of toast while making something for everyone else. His stomach twisted uneasily—a sensation he’d chalked up to stress rather than illness. His throat felt scratchy, his limbs heavier than usual, and his head carried a faint pressure that wasn’t quite a headache but hinted at one waiting in the wings.

But Lex couldn’t afford to stop.

Everyone else needed him, and now that they were recovering, it was his job to make sure they stayed that way. Soren still looked drained, his energy levels slow to return. Malik, though no longer bedridden, was cautious with food, his appetite fragile. Ksenia had been back to her usual sharp-edged wit for a day or two, but Lex caught the occasional wince when she moved too quickly.

He stood in the kitchen, the hum of the kettle filling the quiet space as he prepared another round of tea. His fingers trembled slightly as he measured out the loose leaves, but he ignored it, chalking it up to the caffeine withdrawal he was definitely flirting with. A cough bubbled up in his throat, and he swallowed it down harshly, not wanting to hear it echo in the silence. He couldn’t afford to get sick. Not now.

“Lex?” Soren’s voice was soft, cautious. Lex didn’t jump, but he stiffened slightly before glancing over his shoulder.

Soren stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame for support. His hair was still mussed from sleep, and there were faint shadows under his eyes, but he looked better than he had in days.

“You should be resting,” Lex said lightly, his voice carefully neutral as he turned back to the tea. He busied himself with pouring the hot water, not giving Soren the chance to study him too closely.

“So should you,” Soren replied, his tone carrying a pointed edge of concern.

Lex ignored the comment, focusing instead on steeping the tea just right. “I’ll bring this to you in a minute. Go lie down.”

Soren didn’t move. “Lex.”

The weight of Soren’s gaze was unbearable, but Lex refused to meet it. “I’m fine,” he said shortly, hoping the tone would end the conversation.

“You’re not,” Soren said quietly. He took a cautious step forward, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. “You’ve been running yourself into the ground for two weeks. When’s the last time you sat down?”

Lex exhaled sharply through his nose, finally turning to face Soren. “Everyone else needed me. Someone had to step up.”

“And now we’re okay,” Soren countered, his voice still soft but unwavering. “But you’re not.”

Lex bristled at the statement, instinctively tightening his grip on the counter behind him. “I’m fine,” he repeated, his voice sharper now. “Don’t worry about me.”

Soren studied him for a long moment, his brows knitting together in quiet frustration. “I always worry about you, Lex.”

The words hit like a blow to the chest, but Lex couldn’t afford to let them crack his carefully constructed façade. “You don’t need to,” he said, turning back to the tea. “Just focus on getting better.”

But as Lex lifted the tray of cups, the weight felt heavier than it should have. His arms trembled under the strain, his body screaming at him to stop, to rest, to let someone else take over for once. But he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move forward, refusing to let the cracks show.

Because Lex wasn’t just holding the tray—he was holding everything together. And if he stopped now, he was terrified of what might fall apart.

-

The house was quiet now, save for the distant hum of the dishwasher cycling through its last rinse. It was a rare moment of peace, a stillness that Lex had come to treasure in the chaos of the last two weeks. Malik was resting in his room, still pale and moving carefully after his stomach virus had finally run its course. Ksenia was stretched out on the couch, her blanket pulled to her chin as she nursed a mild but stubborn queasiness, scrolling absently through her phone. Soren, predictably, was back in his room, likely working through the lingering haze of his latest chronic fatigue spell.

Lex stood in the laundry room, methodically folding towels. His movements were precise, rhythmic, the kind of task that didn’t demand much mental energy but kept his hands busy. The warmth from the dryer seeped into the room, turning the air heavy. He should’ve opened a window to let the fresh air in, but that would require stopping, and stopping wasn’t an option.

The truth was, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this drained. His legs ached like he’d run miles, his chest felt tight, and his head swam with a faint dizziness that he stubbornly ignored. It wasn’t sickness, he told himself. He was just tired. A little worn down. Nothing he couldn’t push through.

He carried the basket of folded towels down the hall, his bare feet padding quietly against the wood floors. Halfway to the bathroom, the dizziness surged, making the walls tilt slightly in his periphery. Lex froze for a moment, gripping the basket tighter, grounding himself by focusing on the weight of it in his arms. Just breathe. He clenched his teeth and forced his legs to move again, each step deliberate and steady.

By the time he reached the bathroom, he was lightheaded, his heart thrumming a little too fast in his chest. The towels slipped from his fingers, falling into a messy heap onto the counter. He cursed under his breath, leaning heavily on the sink as he tried to steady himself. His reflection in the mirror caught his eye, and he winced. His skin was pale, almost ashen, except for the flush high on his cheekbones. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his hair hung limp, stuck to his temple with a faint sheen of sweat.

“Pull it together,” he muttered, splashing cold water on his face. The chill helped for a moment, shocking his system into clarity, but the reprieve was short-lived. His chest tightened again, his pulse fluttering erratically, and nausea twisted low in his stomach.

Still, he pushed on. There were dishes to finish, the trash needed to be taken out, and he’d noticed Malik had left his favorite hoodie in the living room. He grabbed the laundry basket, taking slow, deliberate breaths as he made his way back toward the kitchen.

He put the next load of laundry in, though he leaned against the washer more than he wanted to admit. Then, he went back to the kitchen.

The room seemed brighter than before, the overhead light too harsh, glaring against the countertops. Lex blinked hard, trying to clear his vision as his legs wobbled under him. He started working on the dishes. There weren't many at the moment, Lex had been working on them throughout the day, now it was just a few stray dishes. A few mugs, a bowl, silverware. Lex remembered grabbing a plate before the kitchen seemed to lurch sideways and next thing Lex knew he was staring at a broken plate on the floor.

“Damn it,” he hissed, crouching down to pick up the pieces. But the movement sent a rush of vertigo through him, his head swimming as black spots peppered his vision. His body swayed involuntarily, and he dropped to his knees, clutching the edge of the counter to keep himself upright.

“Lex?” Ksenia’s voice came from the living room, sharp and alert. He hadn’t even realized the noise had drawn her attention. Her footsteps were hurried, the sound of her socks against the floor growing louder. She appeared in the doorway, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene.

“What the hell happened?” she asked, crouching in front of him. Her hand hovered uncertainly near his shoulder, unsure whether to touch him.

“I’m fine,” Lex croaked, though the words sounded weak, even to him. His heart pounded in his chest, erratic and wild, like it was trying to escape. His breathing was shallow, uneven, and he couldn’t seem to make his limbs cooperate.

Ksenia wasn’t buying it. “Soren!” she called over her shoulder, her voice urgent.

“No, don’t—” Lex protested, trying to push himself up, but his arms gave out, and he sank back to his knees. The dizziness surged again, and he swallowed hard against the nausea that threatened to rise.

Soren appeared moments later, his movements slow but deliberate. His tired eyes widened when he saw Lex slumped on the floor, his chest heaving as he struggled to steady himself.

“Lex,” Soren said softly, dropping to his knees beside him. His hands were on Lex’s shoulders immediately, grounding and steady, pulling Lex away from the broken glass, “Hey, breathe. Slow it down.”

“I’m fine,” Lex whispered again, his voice cracking. He shook his head weakly, but Soren’s hands didn’t budge.

“You’re not,” Soren said firmly, pulling Lex closer so that Lex’s back rested against his chest. Soren’s hand pressed gently over Lex’s heart, feeling the erratic rhythm beneath the fabric of his shirt. His other hand rested on Lex’s abdomen, his touch firm but reassuring.

“Too fast,” Soren murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “Ksenia, water. Maybe some salt?”

Ksenia disappeared, returning moments later with a glass and the salt shaker. She crouched beside them, her expression unusually soft as she placed the glass near Soren’s hand.

"I couldn't find the packets," Ksenia said, "I'll get this glass."

Lex fought to sit up straighter, but his body refused to cooperate. His heart was racing so fast it made him dizzy, his vision narrowing to a hazy tunnel. His stomach twisted violently, the nausea so overwhelming he gagged once, hard, before managing to clamp it down.

“Just breathe,” Soren said again, his voice low and calm. He kept Lex pressed against him, his fingers moving in slow circles over Lex’s abdomen. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Lex’s pulse was still erratic, his body trembling from head to toe. He hated this—hated being weak, hated being the one everyone had to look after. He was supposed to be the caretaker, the one who fixed things, not the one who fell apart.

But his body had other plans. The world swayed around him, and for a terrifying moment, he thought he might actually pass out. His breath hitched, panic rising in his chest like a tidal wave. “I’m fine,” he gasped, the words choked and desperate. “I’m—”

“You don’t have to do this,” Soren interrupted gently, his hand brushing over Lex’s sweat-damp hair. “You don’t have to be fine. Just let us help you.”

The words hit Lex like a blow, and for a moment, he felt the fight drain out of him. His body sagged against Soren, his breathing ragged and shallow. He could feel Ksenia’s hand on his arm, her touch uncharacteristically gentle.

“Here, open your mouth, let's try this,” Soren murmured, his voice steady as he grabbed the salt shaker.

Lex tried to shake his head, his breaths shallow and uneven. “No… I don’t need—”

“Lex,” Soren interrupted, his voice low but firm. “Just try.. It usually helps...”

Lex reluctantly opened his mouth, letting Soren tip a pinch of salt onto his tongue. He grimaced at the sharp, acrid taste, his stomach recoiling instantly. The nausea surged violently, and he gagged again, his body lurching forward despite Soren’s steadying grip.

“No, no, no,” Lex gasped, his voice rising in panic as he tried to suppress the heave. His trembling hand clawed at Soren’s arm, seeking stability, but his stomach had other plans. The gag turned into a retch, and Ksenia barely managed to shove a trash can under him in time.

Lex lurched forward, a dry, wrenching sound tearing from his throat as he heaved. The effort left him gasping and shaking, the world spinning faster around him. He groaned weakly, his forehead falling against Soren’s shoulder.

“Okay, no more salt,” Ksenia said quickly, snatching the shaker and setting it aside so Soren could hold back Lex's hair. She crouched closer, her brow furrowing as she took in Lex’s pale, clammy face. “This isn’t working, Soren. He’s getting worse.”

“I know,” Soren murmured, his hand brushing soothing circles over Lex’s back. His other hand remained firmly on Lex’s abdomen, grounding him. “Lex, listen to me. You need to stop fighting. Just let it happen.”

“No,” Lex croaked, his voice hoarse and weak. “I can’t… I can’t stop.”

“You can,” Soren insisted, his voice steady but kind. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. Your body’s literally begging you to stop, and you’re making it worse.”

Malik hovered nearby, his expression torn between concern and helplessness. “What can I do?” he asked, his voice tight. “I want to help.”

“Grab another glass of water,” Soren said, not looking up. “Something cool—not too cold. And a wet towel.”

Malik nodded and darted off to the kitchen, his hurried footsteps echoing faintly. Ksenia adjusted her position, reaching for Lex’s wrist to check his pulse. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she felt the erratic, racing rhythm beneath her fingers.

“Lex,” she said quietly, her voice softer than usual. “You’ve got to let us take care of this. You’re scaring the hell out of yourself for no reason. Just let go.”

Lex’s head lolled weakly against Soren’s shoulder, his body trembling uncontrollably. It killed Soren, but Lex was fighting with everything in him to stay conscious and Soren could see it, could feel it.

“I can’t,” Lex whispered, his voice barely audible. “I have to… I owe it to you. To everyone.. I can't... I can't go back to that person. It's only been two years...”

Those words felt like a stab to Soren's own chest as he pieced it together "Angel, you're not that person anymore. You haven't been that person, you could never be that person again. You don’t owe us anything, Lex. We love you. That’s it. There’s no debt to repay.” Soren said firmly, his hand moving to tilt Lex’s head back gently, keeping Lex's head tilted back and stroking his hand along the top of Lex's head.

The words hit Lex like a physical blow, his breath hitching as fresh tears welled in his eyes. He shook his head weakly, his voice cracking as he whispered, “You don’t understand.”

“I do,” Soren countered, his voice unwavering. “I know you think you’re making up for the past, but you don’t have to. We’ve already forgiven you, Lex. You need to forgive yourself.”

Lex’s chest heaved, his breathing shallow and uneven as he clung to Soren’s arm. The dizziness surged again, the room spinning so violently that he thought for sure he was about to black out. His heart raced even faster, and his stomach twisted painfully, threatening to bring up what little remained in it.

Malik returned with the water and towel, kneeling beside Ksenia as she helped drape the cool cloth over Lex’s forehead. “What’s happening to him?” Malik asked, his voice edged with panic. “Why is he—?”

“It’s his body forcing him to stop,” Soren explained, his tone calm despite the tension in his jaw. “He’s been running on fumes for days now, if not as long as all three of us have been sick. It’s catching up to him.”

Lex whimpered faintly, his body sagging further against Soren. “I can’t—” he began, but his voice broke off as another gag overtook him. His stomach heaved violently, and he clutched at Soren’s shirt, his entire body tensing.

“Let it happen,” Soren said softly, holding him steady, “Stop fighting it, Lex.”

Ksenia moved the trash can closer again, her free hand resting on Lex’s arm as a silent reassurance. Malik sat back slightly, his hands clenched tightly around the glass of water, unsure where to step in.

After a few more dry, wrenching heaves, Lex’s body seemed to give out completely. His head lolled back against Soren’s shoulder, his breathing ragged and shallow. His eyelids fluttered, the fight draining from him as he hovered on the edge of consciousness. He was closer now than he had been before, Soren could see that despite Lex's fight, he'd definitely go under.

“Lex,” Soren murmured, his voice soft but commanding. “It’s okay. Let go. Just let yourself rest.”

Lex’s lips parted as if to argue, but no sound came out. His body sagged further, and after one final, shuddering breath, he went limp in Soren’s arms.

Ksenia’s hand shot out to steady him, her brow furrowing as she felt the heat radiating from his skin. “Fever’s climbing,” she muttered, glancing at Soren. “You’ve seen him do this before. How long does he stay out?”

“Not long,” Soren replied, shifting slightly to cradle Lex more securely. His hand rested over Lex’s heart, monitoring the erratic rhythm that had begun to slow. “He just needs to stop fighting it. Give him a few minutes.”

Malik sat frozen for a moment before setting the water aside and leaning closer. “Are you sure we shouldn’t… I don’t know, call someone? He just fainted.”

Ksenia shook her head, her voice unusually gentle as she said, “This isn’t new for him. It looks worse than it is. If you're really stressed, you can go grab Lex a knew shirt? That fight soaked him through this one.”

Soren nodded in agreement, his fingers brushing through Lex’s hair in slow, soothing strokes. “We’ve got him. He’ll come around. Just give him time.”

The quiet in the room was thick, broken only by the faint sound of Lex’s uneven breaths and the occasional shift of fabric as Soren adjusted his grip. He sat firmly on the floor, his back against the couch and Lex cradled securely against him. The heat from Lex’s feverish body bled through Soren’s shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice—or care. His fingers continued their rhythmic stroke through Lex’s damp hair, a motion as much for himself as for Lex.

Malik hovered awkwardly, his eyes darting between Lex’s pale, slack face and Soren’s calm expression. “I don’t know how you’re so calm,” he muttered, his voice strained. “This is—he’s out cold. This isn’t normal.”

Soren glanced up briefly, his gaze steady. “It’s normal for Lex,” he said quietly. “Not ideal, but normal. Sort of. He doesn't really pass out much, just comes close to it. But when he does, it's not long. He’ll come around soon. He just needs the time.”

“That doesn’t make it less terrifying,” Malik shot back, his grip tightening on the fresh shirt he’d brought back from Lex’s room.

“Trust me,” Ksenia interjected, her voice sharper now, though still measured. “If it were something worse, we’d know. Right now, panicking isn’t helping.”

Malik looked like he wanted to argue but bit his tongue. Instead, he moved to sit on the edge of the armchair, still clutching the shirt like it was a lifeline. His leg bounced nervously as he watched Soren settle Lex’s head more comfortably against his chest.

“Lex,” Soren murmured, his voice low and soothing. “It’s okay. You’re safe. Just take your time.”

Lex stirred faintly at the sound of Soren’s voice, his body giving a weak, involuntary jerk. His breathing hitched, a soft groan escaping his lips as his head turned slightly against Soren’s shoulder.

“There you are,” Soren murmured, relief evident in his tone. “Take it easy. You’re okay.”

Lex’s eyelids fluttered, his lashes damp with sweat as his eyes cracked open. For a moment, his gaze was unfocused, darting around the room in disoriented panic. He tensed in Soren’s arms, his breathing quickening again as a faint whimper escaped him.

“Hey, hey,” Soren said quickly, his hand moving to cup the side of Lex’s face, anchoring him. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Look at me.”

Lex’s eyes locked onto Soren’s, wide and glassy with fear. “I—I’m sorry,” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t…”

“Shh,” Soren soothed, brushing his thumb gently over Lex’s cheek. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I—I couldn’t stop,” Lex stammered, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. “I should’ve—”

“Stop,” Soren interrupted, his tone firm but kind. He adjusted his hold, pulling Lex closer so that their foreheads nearly touched. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. You pushed yourself too hard, but you’re safe now. We’ve got you.”

Lex let out a shaky breath, but the panic in his eyes didn’t fade. “I let you down,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I couldn’t even—”

“Lex,” Soren said, his hand sliding to rest over Lex’s chest, directly above his heart. “You didn’t let anyone down. You’ve been taking care of us nonstop, and we’re so grateful. But you can’t pour from an empty cup. It’s okay to stop. It’s okay to rest.”

Ksenia crouched beside them, her expression uncharacteristically soft. She reached out, placing a steady hand on Lex’s leg. “He’s right,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. “You’ve been running on fumes for days, Lex. Nobody blames you for needing a break. Hell, we’re more mad at ourselves for not stepping in sooner.”

Malik stood abruptly, crossing the room to hand Soren the clean shirt. “Here,” he said awkwardly. “He’s… soaked through.”

“Thanks,” Soren said, his hand still rubbing slow circles over Lex’s back. “We’ll swap it out in a minute.”

Malik lingered, his brows furrowed deeply. “Lex,” he started hesitantly, his voice softer now. “You’re always the one helping everyone else. You didn’t… you didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t know what we’d have done without you this week.”

Lex’s hands were trembling as he gripped weakly at Soren’s arm. “I just… I didn’t want to be a disappointment again,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I was so selfish before. I hurt everyone, and I—”

“You’re not that person anymore,” Ksenia interrupted firmly. “And you’re not a disappointment. You’ve worked so hard to change, Lex. We see it every day. You don’t have to prove anything to us.”

Soren nodded, his hand brushing gently over Lex’s damp hair. “You’re enough, just as you are. You don’t have to push yourself to the brink to prove your worth. We love you, Lex.”

The words hung in the air, wrapping around Lex like a warm blanket. He let out a soft, shuddering breath, his body sagging further against Soren. The fight drained out of him completely, leaving only raw exhaustion in its place.

Ksenia reached for the discarded water bottle, twisting off the cap and holding it out to Lex. “Here,” she said gently. “Small sips, okay?”

Lex hesitated, his eyes darting between her and Soren before finally nodding. He took the bottle with trembling hands, letting Soren guide it to his lips. The cool water soothed his parched throat, though it did little to ease the tight knot of nausea in his stomach.

“You’re okay,” Soren murmured again, his voice steady and grounding. “Just breathe. We’ve got you.”

[seratopia]

miguel o'hara x reader (fluff) - needles

modern au!

→ she/her pronouns!

miguel needs to hold your hand while getting a flu shot anti-vaxxers beware! this cup of tea isn't yours to drink

It has come to your attention that Miguel doesn't regularly go to the doctor.

Are you surprised? No. Your husband is unfortunately infamous for have zero sense of self care, staying in his office for literal days at a time, eating the bare minimum on some occasions, etc.

Although you aren't his mom in any way, you wouldn't be a good wifey if you didn't at least care for him. You try your best to remind him to take breaks, bringing him a hefty platter of food from the cafeteria whenever you're off.

Miguel always appreciates it, though your presence seems to be more healing than the gestures themselves. You always find him greeting you with a big hand rubbing circles into your back, or a quick kiss to the forehead.

It wasn't until Miguel told you he hasn't been to the doctor in about four years that you decided to take full action. After bribing him with kisses and date night at your place, Miguel reluctantly agreed for you to take him to the doctor.

Miguel seemed a little tense in the office, you think the scent of rubbing alcohol was unusual to him. The two of you joked around here and there while waiting, though most of it was just you teasing him for his lack of doctor's visits.

The actual checkup was short-lived; as you suspected, Miguel was mostly healthy (physically). He keeps on muscle, does cardio almost everyday, and you make sure to keep vegetables and proteins on his plates.

"Sir, have you gotten this year's flu shot?"

The question makes your husband freeze in place, and you think he tenses up more than necessary.

"No."

You peer at him questionably, noticing his frozen state.

"Well, would you like to now? We have the shots available, all you need is to sign paperwork."

Words seems to want to spill out of Miguel's mouth, but he seems too flabbergasted to speak. Quickly, you place your hand on his arm, smoothing it down.

"Can we discuss this together in private? We'll have an answer when you come back." You say, and the doctor nods, grabbing their stack of papers and stepping out of the small room.

As soon as the door shuts, you turn to Miguel, who stares shyly off to the side. There's the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks, which you fight the urge to chuckle at.

"What's wrong, Mig?" You ask, taking his hand.

Miguel scratches the back of his neck, running an awkward hair through his chestnut hair. You spot him lick his lips a few times.

"Amor, I'm embarrassed to say..."

You raise an eyebrow, and Miguel sighs, peering to the ground.

"I'm scared of needles."

You can't help but let out the biggest sigh of relief, thankful that your husband wasn't against vaccines or anything like that. (why not talk about these things before getting married, hm?)

You pat his arm, taking his bigger hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckle.

"It's okay, Mig. How long has it been since your last shot?"

"You'll be mad at me if I tell you." He mumbles, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

"Tell me."

After a moment of silence, Miguel spills. "Six years."

Your eyes immediately widen, your mouth gaping open. A gasp sputters out of you, and Miguel almost seems to curl more into his comically tinier seat.

"Honey- now you have to get those shots!" You whine.

"No lovie, please. I hate it..." Miguel groans, lightly shaking your hands for emphasis. "It scares me..." He seems to turn away like a pouty child, averting your gaze.

You sigh, leaning against your chair for some sort of divine plan with your lips pursed.

"We can do it together, y'know? I haven't gotten mine yet." You offer.

When your husband hears 'together' he whirls around in his seat, his chocolate eyes brightening only the slightest bit. You almost want to giggle at the sight of his excitement, seeing his back straighten.

"You can hold my hand, hug me, do whatever you'd like." You offer teasingly, just to sweeten the deal up. The things you do for your husbands health.

The clock on the wall seems to tick as you watch Miggy in his seat, thinking for a moment about the makeshift deal. His foot is tapping, but he still seems meek. You glimmer your best 'please get your vaccinations baby' face one, fluttering your eyelashes half-jokingly.

Reluctantly, Miguel says yes, but you think it's because you flirted with him a bit.

The doctor arrives 5 minutes later with paperwork to fill just in case, which you willingly fill out. Miguel, on the other hand; you can see his obvious unease in the way his back stiffens.

You try to comfort him with a few pats to his thigh. It's very rare to see Miguel like this, you feel like usually it's you who's nervous, which Miguel is the one who goes out of his way to comfort you. Today, you can feel what it's like to be in Miguel's shoes, and be able to return the favor in the slightest.

The needles are brought in on top of a crystalline plastic tray, along with alcohol wipes, band-aids, and cotton balls. The sight of the vaccines sends Miguel racing for you touch, gripping your hand as tight as a woman in labor.

As the nurse prepares for your turn, you roll your sleeve up, trying to appear as much of a role model as you can for your husband. Miguel can't help himself from sliding his hand onto your back; an instinct he can't restrain. (a reference to my earlier works hehehe)

With your relaxed arms, the shot is over as soon as it started. You were lucky to have a good nurse, they went through the procedure insanely quickly. It was funny for you to watch Miguel tense up for you, his hand jolting on your back.

"All done!" The nurse happily exclaims, already on the move for Miguel's turn. He frantically reaches for your hand, subconsciously pulling you into him. You giggle a little as Miguel hesitantly rolls up his polo shirt sleeve, all the while he pins himself to your side.

Miguel turns to you, whispering in your ear to lighten the mood of his obvious anxiety.

"I'm kinda scared, lovie." He mutters, squeezing your hand once.

You nod. "I know, Mickey. But, it'll be over really quickly."

"Are you sure? I have two."

You smooth your hand down the veins of his arm. "Yes, at the most, it'll be a little pinch. I think you've felt worse pain anyway."

He sighs. "Yeah, like the guy we had to kick out of the office."

You chuckle into your hand, squeezing his hand tighter.

"Pfft, I know. He was so mean."

For a split second, Miguel eyes the nurse, flickering his gaze back to you. He leans into your ear, making it clear that he has something to say privately.

"Does prep take this long?"

You can't keep yourself from smiling. "They're already done!"

Your husband's mouth runs agape, and his head swerves back to his shoulder, complete with two circular band-aids. The nurse is just there, peeling off their gloves onto the tray.

"I didn't even feel it." He says, half-shocked.

You both give your thanks to the nurse, who gives you the full clear to leave. You cheer, standing up to give yourself a quick stretch.

"You're supposed to rub it, y'know?" You say, Miguel opening the door for the both of you. His hand lingers on your nape, guiding you through the hallways of the doctor's office.

"Whad'you mean by rub?"

You start kneading your shoulder where the shot was, rubbing it in circles.

"You gotta rub it so it spreads the medicine around."

Your husband nods, placing his hand on your shoulder behind you. He starts gingerly rubbing your band-aid clad arm, rubbing it too gently in circles like he would your back. You aren't surprised when he presses a kiss to the top of your head, resting his chin up top your head as you walk to the car.

"Not me! You!" You exclaim, Miguel retracting away his hands with a frown.

© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 23

Fic masterlist

I’ve been writing this chapter amidst chaos and I was obsessed while planning this spicy scene. I hope you like it? The writing process wasn’t half as sexy, considering I have terrible flu 🤧

Warnings: NSFW

Words: 2,2k

The groaning creak of Aelin’s rusty window being opened jolted her awake. She shot up in bed, heart racing, only to register Rowan’s hulky figure invading her bedroom.

She threw herself back in bed, relieved and slightly less annoyed. “Alexa, what time is it?”

“You already know you’re late. The time is 6:42 a.m.”

Rowan sighed, finally inside, and closed her squeaky window. “I forgot how sassy your Alexa is.”

Rubbing both eyes, she slowly processed whatever was going on. Yesterday’s fight over Fleetfoot the Dog. Aelin’s late—and depressingly lonely—wine night. Rowan showed up here when she specifically told him not to.

“I took Maisie to Aedion’s, they’re going to the pool.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet. “We need to talk.”

“Where’s the key I gave you?”

“I didn’t know how you’d feel about me using it now.” After their fight, he meant.

“So you’d rather break into my house through my bedroom window instead?”

Rowan eyed her reading armchair, but decided to pace instead. Aelin could barely pay attention to him, only thinking about how she asked him for time to process the situation, but instead he decided to wake her up right after dawn to talk.

Aelin adjusted her pillows to sit by the headboard. “Did Maisie wake you up early today?”

“I didn’t sleep.”

She ran both hands on her face, trying to recall her last thoughts regarding the doggie situation. If Rowan wanted to make decisions alone rather than considering her opinions as a couple, she could go with it. “I want 50/50 custody of Fleetfoot, same co-parenting arrangement and shared expenses as we do with Maisie. I already made a new expense spreadsheet.”

“So you want the dog?”

“Oh my God.” Aelin leaned her head against the headboard, looking up. “Rowan, this is not about the dog!”

He furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes carefully assessing her, and that’s when she realized he was lost.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to phrase her feelings in the clearest way possible. “If I’m Maisie’s mother, if we’re together, and if you see yourself living with me within the next decade, I don’t understand why you’d get her a dog without talking to me first.”

“Very well.” His body tensed, both hands on his hips. “Another 50/50 custody. That’s what we’re doing, then?”

“Yes. That’s how I deal with things when I ask for time to think and you don’t give it to me.”

He resumed pacing around the room, one hand on his hip while he gesticulated with the other. “Look, I want to give you space, but I can’t sit and do nothing while you rethink our relationship.”

Aelin tilted her head, eyes squinted at him. Now she was the one who was lost. “While I do what?”

Rowan huffed, a hard look aimed at her. “You know…”

“I really don’t.”

“You pushed me away because you didn’t trust me.” Rowan sat on her armchair, eyes narrowed at a random point. She gave him time, knowing he wasn’t great at expressing himself or his feelings. “Now you gave me a second chance, and things are still delicate because I’m still proving myself.”

“Proving yourself…?” Aelin trailed, trying to understand his train of thought.

“That I deserve your second chance.” His voice slowed down as he sensed her confusion. “That you can rely on me in a way you didn’t before.”

Aelin’s mouth opened. And closed. It was a rare feat to make Aelin speechless, but Rowan did it this time. Had he been thinking like that for the past month?

“I was in a very vulnerable place five years ago, and our relationship was too undefined. I barely had the energy to think about something romantic between us, let alone fight for it.” Aelin fiddled with the corner of her blanket, feeling Rowan’s gaze on her, hanging on her every word. She continued, “That’s not the case now. I told you why I pushed you away back then because the situation called for it, but I don’t want to torment you over something you did so long ago.” She sent him a close-lipped, hope-to-be-reassuring smile. “Besides, I already know I can trust you. Did you ever fail with Maisie?”

A bitter chuckle. “Yes. Several times.”

Aelin left her position on her bed to straddle him at the armchair, her chest filled with warmth. “Well, you wouldn’t be a parent if you didn’t.” She combed his hair off his face with her fingers. Her fussy Buzzard, always thinking too much. He’d just started therapy, and Aelin knew it’d be a long process until the worst of that weight fell off his shoulders, but she’d be right there with him the entire time. “Your very chivalrous theory about needing to prove your worth was totally debunked, being Super Dad and all.”

“I was a terrible co-parent to you.”

“Me too.” Aelin put both hands on her hips, eyes squinted at him. “Are you putting me on a trial test?”

“I would never—“

She raised both eyebrows, silently begging him to think this through. Yeah, buddy, it goes both ways, she hoped her face conveyed.

“So, just to be sure, you’re not breaking up with—“

“Gods, Rowan!”

“Alright, alright.”

He held her close, face resting near her neck while he breathed her in. Aelin kissed his head, squeezing him into her embrace. Sometimes, when she’s with Rowan, no amount of touching feels like enough. Right now, she felt like melting and merging their bodies completely so every cell of her body hugs every cell of his. It was so silly, but it did feel like heaven to hear his mocking groans, as if Rowan hated being squished to death.

Aelin grinned down at him, still straddling his lap, and cupped his face with both hands. “You’re mine.”

He kissed her palm. “I’m yours.”

“And you love me,” she said. Not a question.

“To whatever end,” he breathed.

She leaned to kiss him, meeting him halfway. What started as a tender kiss soon turned molten. Rowan’s hands traveled down her torso, hungrily grabbing her, as Aelin ravished his mouth, full of need while grinding down on his lap from how much her body burned for him.

Rowan hooked both hands under her thighs and lifted them up from the armchair, carrying Aelin to her bed. He dropped her in a seating position and caged her with both arms, still standing while pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re mine.” His eyes were glued to hers and so close, she felt the claiming in her bones, her soul.

“I’m yours.” Her answer was as truthful as the throbbing between her thighs—very.

“And you love me.” Such hope and quiet joy in his eyes, beneath all that fierceness.

“To whatever end.” Beaming at him, she radiated with the intensity of that moment and needed to show him how much she meant it.

Rowan kissed her again, dragging the moment until Aelin nipped his lip. He opened his mouth to protest, but when she felt him through his pants, it melted into a hiss.

Aelin dropped to her knees in front of him.

“Baby, you don’t have to—“

He cursed when she pulled her pants down. Aelin kept eye contact while she pumped him, trying to hide a smirk. The words died on his throat, mesmerized by the sight of her face and his cock so close. He held still while she licked the head, but Rowan’s eyes closed, his head lolling back when her tongue ran over his full length.

Aelin knew she didn’t have to but, fuck, she wanted to. She pumped his heavy, veiny length, panting, entranced. How a guy used his cock had always been something she valued more than the member in itself, but it was definitely a flex that her boyfriend came with both traits. Her need to be filled was driving her mad, but Aelin was dying to worship him too.

One more swirl of her tongue and she took him deep inside her mouth, quickly finding a rhythm. Cheeks hollowed, Aelin also worked him by massaging his base and his balls—it was near impossible to swallow all of him, no matter her attempts to deep-throat his cock.

Rowan’s eyes were glued to the way he disappeared into her mouth, and he kept praising her, guiding her head with his fist and hissing when he hit a particular spot near her throat, then again calling her a good girl that sucks his cock so well.

“Fuck, baby.” Rowan thrust into her mouth, and she was growing almost feverish with the sight of him using her for his own pleasure.

One of her hands disappeared between her thighs without interrupting his ministrations, but it only worsened the burning feeling she tried to soothe. A moment later, Rowan cursed at how wet it came back to toy with his balls.

“Baby.” He caressed her jaw, holding her gaze. “Fuck. The things I’m doing to you after this…”

Aelin moaned around his cock, almost losing her rhythm. His hips jerked, making him grip her hair harder.

He growled, “You have no idea.”

˜˜

“Must you tell her everything?” Rowan politely complained, jaw tight.

Aelin gaped. “But she’s our therapist!” Her defensive remark had a slightly higher pitch.

Yrene had her lips pressed tight to hide her amusement. Her job was to meddle in their relationship, but sometimes she chose not to—especially during a small bicker.

The woman cleared her throat. “It looks to me that you both communicated your thoughts and feelings on your own, mid crisis, while shielding your daughter from it." Yrene had a satisfied, close-lipped smile on while she typed on her computer. "That’s impressive progress. In fact, I feel like we’re ready to space out our sessions, so we can gradually transition you two out of therapy.”

Aelin felt a lightness inside, and her grin was almost too much. Hell yes, she was more than ready to cut off some sessions—if she counted her individual ones as well, Aelin saw Yrene way too much.

However, Rowan frowned, not looking convinced. “But we just had a fight.”

Their therapist waved him off. “You will from time to time. The important thing here is to identify when you’re falling into an old pattern, and to revisit conflict management skills when—not if—needed.” Yrene tilted her head, carefully studying Rowan. “But I can wait more to space out sessions if you don’t feel ready yet, even if I’m not discharging you immediately.”

His eyes darted between the two women, unsure.

“Baby, I think we’re good.” Aelin squeezed Rowan’s hands. She worked with a whole different way of looking inside her patients, but she knew how successful this case was.

“We won’t be working on new skills from now on, just maintaining what you already learned,” Yrene added, focused on Rowan. “Besides, I already consider your case successful. Couples don’t often get back together, let alone in a healthy relationship—sometimes, I’m only trying to prevent murder.”

The corner of his mouth quivered, and he squeezed Aelin’s hand back. “Alright, then. How often is it gonna be for now?”

˜˜

“Gods, I feel so spiritually evolved.” Aelin matched her boyfriend’s grin outside Yrene’s office, in the building’s hallway. “Every time a therapist praises me, I feel like lighting incense and doing yoga.”

Rowan hummed, wrapping his arm around her while they waited for the elevator. “Yoga’s nice. We could try it out—“

“Fuck, no. You promised me chocolate cake.”

“I didn’t mean now.” He studied her from the corner of his eye. “Tomorrow?”

“Nope.” Not ever, if she could help it—Aelin doing exercises about balance while having a giant bump that messed her center of gravity up? Scarred her to death. “I have a hip replacement tomorrow. Did you know that performing those is worse than CrossFit?”

“No, it’s not.” Rowan snorted. “You told me they were super easy when you were pregnant with…”

Realization made him lose his words. To Aelin’s defense, it was just a little white lie she told so he wouldn’t lose his mind with worry. Rowan’s eyes widened, and Aelin was saved by the elevator arriving at that exact moment. She hurried past him inside and watched him slowly enter, still staring at her.

The elevator moved, restarting him as well. She shook his head and stood behind her. Noting that they were alone in that metal box, Rowan grabbed her hips with both hands and whispered, “I’m punishing you for that later.”

Aelin shivered with his words fanning against her ear, feeling a whisper of his smirk when she trembled under his fingertips. Slightly pressed against him, she breathed, “I bet you are.”

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

@aelinchocolatelover

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@booksandteaonarainydayislife

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@elizarikaallen

@emily-gsh

@empress-ofbloodshed

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@gracie-rosee

@leiawritesstories

@lululululululuop

@renxzs

@rowanaelinn

@s-uppertime

@sarahjswift

@staghorn-mountains

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@thegreyj

@throneofus7

@violet-mermaid7

@wishfulimaginings

[j4c3r0s3]

Flu Shot (Bucky Barnes x GN! Reader)

Fluffy Fluff!

Word Count: 862

AN: longer than an actual drabble. sue me.

His piercing stare and clenched jaw didn’t faze you. “Bucky, I don’t care if you’re scared or pissed. You are still going to the doctor.”

“I said I’m not going.” Bucky practically whined.

“Yes. You. Are. You need to get a flu shot.”

“I’m not even that sick.” He continued to argue.

You inhale and then exhale trying to calm yourself. Opening your eyes just to narrow them at Bucky. “Do. Not. Make. Me. Tell. You. Again. You are getting that flu shot!” Your voice and demeanor try to stay adamant; while dealing with Bucky, the manchild.

He scoffs. “How’re you gonna make me?” He asks, his tone almost challenging.

You get frustrated, and ultimately pinch the bridge of your nose before trying to approach in a different direction. “Bucky, fine. You don’t have to get a flu shot. But… can you at least go with me when I get mine?”

“I’ll do that.” He agrees. His tone is still annoyed, despite having agreed. “Why’d you want to go together anyway?”

“We’re a couple.” You say nonchalantly.

He raises an eyebrow, trying and failing to hide a small smirk. “We are not.”

“Not officially, but everyone practically thinks we are.”

“I don’t know where they’re getting that idea.” He shrugs, still trying to resist smiling.

–

You're sitting next to Bucky in the medical room waiting for the doctor to walk in. Bucky’s arms are crossed, he looks annoyed and bored. He’s tapping his fingers on his leg with a blank look on his face.

“Calm down. I already said you aren’t getting a flu shot. This is for me.”

“I know. I’m just… like, bored.” He shrugs again, leaning back on the chair as he continues to wait. He sighs. “How long until the doctor shows up?”

“I don’t know. Can I have your jacket to wear? Doctor’s offices are always so cold.”

He sighs again, but holds his coat out for you. “Fine. But you have to give it back when we’re done here.”

“Okie.” You smile. As Bucky’s flesh arm was now exposed, your plan was falling into place. The doctor walks in a few moments later and you quickly give him the signal. Your next move is rapid. You pull Bucky in for a randomized passionate kiss. As you do the doctor quickly gives Bucky his flu shot.

“H-hey! What- oof!” He’s a little stunned by the sudden, unexpected move, but then he feels the sharp pinch of the shot. He groans, and grips your shoulder, clutching it with one hand as he glares at the doctor, then at you. “I-I thought… I wasn’t getting one.”

“Now you don’t have to worry anymore!” You smile cheekily. “Now it’s my turn.” You sit up straight and the doctor gives you your flu shot as well.

He’s a little mad at being duped by that, but looks at you as you sit up and get your shot. “... Was that really necessary?”

“The kiss? The shot? Or both?”

He’s still clutching his arm as if he were a kid. “Both.”

“The shot was necessary. The kiss was to distract you, and it worked. Now we can go back to the compound.”

“I… I guess that makes sense.” He finally loosens his grip, stretching his arm and rubbing the spot where the flu shot was given. “You’re lucky my arm hurts too much to argue right now.” He chuckles, though he doesn't look happy.

“It’s gonna be okay. Can’t wait for next year!”

He laughs for real this time, looking back at you. “Next year? You’re planning this again?”

“I might have to distract you in a different way…”

“And what idea have you got this time?” He smirks a little as he looks at you, trying to figure out your plan.

“I don’t know yet… hopefully we’ll be dating by then.” You look at Bucky expectedly. His face lights up slightly at the thought of that. He smiles and crosses his arms, turning his head away from you hiding a blush. “Here’s your jacket back, by the way.” You hand it to Bucky, but as he grabs onto it you pull him in for another kiss.

He blushes even harder,  and is too stunned to do anything other than hold onto the jacket with one hand as you pull him over to you. He doesn’t complain about it though, not moving away despite the surprise, and he tries to kiss you back. “N- what was that for?” He ask softly, his tone full of surprise.

“I like you.” Simply put.

He blinks, his eyes wide. “Y-you like m-me?” He seems surprised by that confession, though he still doesn’t resist the kiss at all. He looks into your eyes. “I… like you too.”

“So…”

He pauses, waiting to see what you’re going to say. “... Do… Do you maybe-?”

“If you are asking what I think you are asking, then yes.” You smile softly.

He smiles too, seeming happy. He slowly leans in closer to you, not wanting to break the moment. “Does that mean… we’re… together now?”

“I think it does.” You smile more.

Bucky grins at that, and softly kisses you again.

[jpeg-dot-jpeg]

24 & jaytim for the prompt list? <3

!!! this idea has been living rent free in my head since i got this prompt and i've been trying to figure out how to do it justice. hope you enjoy!

24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

Jason opens the front door and the first thing he says is, "Okay, you have to be nice to me right now."

Tim blinks. "I...wasn't planning to do otherwise?"

He grunts and takes a step back, motioning for Tim to come inside.

When the door is shut, Tim looks at him and asks, "Shirt on or off?"

Jason hedges for a second, plays with the idea of pretending he isn't so far gone over the edge that just the thought of bare skin makes him want to howl. But he's been waiting long enough just for Tim to arrive. He doesn't have it in him to make things harder for himself.

"Off."

The shirt hits the ground, left in a crumpled heap next to the sneakers Tim kicked off upon entering.

Jason likes that about Tim. He knows when not to ask questions, when not to push, when to just saddle up and get shit done. There's not an ounce of expectation or judgement when he looks around and asks, "Couch? Or bed?"

"Couch." The bed might be a tad too much for Jason's frail heart.

They shuffle into the living room. "How do you want me?"

Jason's brain stutters. He hadn't thought that far ahead. "Umm. Lie down. On your back."

Tim obeys without question, cushions bouncing under his weight, and settles in by arranging a pillow under his head before opening his arms in invitation.

And Jason-

Jason blacks out for a teeny tiny second with force of how desperately he wants to be held. In a breath, he finds himself suddenly plastered onto Tim's front, clutching to him like a life raft.

He's shaking. When did he start shaking?

A cold fingered hand rests on his back and another buries itself in Jason's hair and he could sob with the immense relief of it. He has his own hands hooked under Tim's shoulders, cheek pressed to his chest, and its not close enough. Jason wants to crush them together so hard they just blend into one fleshy amalgamation.

"How are you feeling?" Tim's voice is laced with an obvious concern that he doesn't have the bandwidth to ease. He gives an unintelligible grumble into the skin over Tim's heart. "Jay, you're shaking." The hand in his hair slides down to press against his carotid. Tim makes an unhappy noise. "When's the last time you got a booster for your pollen vaccine?"

The question irritates Jason more than it should, but its just so hard to think when the hand on his back is rubbing up and down like that. He catches one of Tim's legs between both of his own and squeezes hard enough to bruise himself on Tim's bony knee; it settles his nerves a bit.

"Fuckin'.... when I was fourteen?" he guesses.

The hand on his back doesn't still, but he can fucking feel Tim thinking. "Jason, if you haven't had a booster in years, that's almost as bad as metabolizing the pollen without being vaccinated at all."

"Been busy," he mumbles into Tim's chest. Its a bullshit excuse and they both know it. Jason wasn't too busy to get his flu shot every winter for the past half-a-decade. But deliberately going to the cave, making his medical history available to the whole fuckin' family, and having to ask Bruce to synthasize a booster for him? Yeah, too busy.

"If I'd known how bad it was for you, I would've-" Tim cuts himself off. Would've what? Would've nothing. Tim was in the middle of a very important, very time sensitive op when Jason called him. Something Tim couldn't in good faith have dropped cold. Something Jason couldn't in good faith have asked him to.

He knows what Tim is going to say next before he says it.

"Why did you wait for me to finish? Why not call someone else? There are a bunch of people who'd be willing to help you right now."

And the thing is that Tim is right. Jason didn't have to wait on him. Just about anyone he'd be willing to call would be willing to help him. The problem is that the list of people he's willing to call shrinks to zilch when he gets emotional.

Sure, he could have called Roy or Kori or Artemis, or Dick or Cass or Alfred, even fucking Bruce. They'd do it for him. But just doing it isn't enough. Not when he's unstable and vulnerable and oversensitive like this. Not when the slightest hint of awkwardness or most minor teasing comment could send him bursting into tears, and it drives him nuts because he knows its the pollen sending his hormones out of whack, but that doesn't make him any less prone to a humiliating emotional outburst.

God, it feels like something's crawling on him.

"I need-"

Jason digs his fingers into Tim's shoulders, fighting to vocalize the pure animalistic urges warring in his stomach. Tim stays blessedly silent so he can figure it out.

"I need-" he starts again. He doesn't know what he needs. Instead of trying to explain, Jason tugs on Tim until they shift around 90 degrees, his back against the couch, boxed in by Tim's body. He needs to be crushed, and he shuffles backwards and pulls Tim in closer until he barely has enough room to breathe.

When he's feeling a bit less manic, Jason counts his breaths and releases his death grip on Tim's shoulder. "...you're the only one I trust to do this."

And Tim just says, "Okay. I'm glad you trust me with this."

The tension leaks from his body. The worst of it is past with Tim pressed against him.

"If you send me a fully updated medical portfolio," Tim says after a while, "I can whip you up a fresh booster. And any other shots you might be behind on."

And Jason just says, "Okay. I will."

[bellysoupset]

"So what do you think?" Vince asked in a rasp, sitting down on the shitty couch and grimacing. The flu had taken a toll on him and even though he felt much better, all the moving around and loading and unloading of boxes hadn't helped.

There was still so much in the car, but Vince didn't have it in him to finish unpacking. His father would come over the next day and he could help.

"I like it..." Wendy mumbled, wringing her hands together.

When Vince had told her the plan was never to move in with his parents —  in truth he wasn't sure how she had even assumed that since he had asked her to move with him as well — Wendy had looked about ready to cry.

The same distraught, heartbroken look she had displayed on her face that very moment, walking around the tiny apartment Vince had rented near the school he'd be starting at the next day.

"Are you sure? Because you look like you think this place is haunted," Vince teased her lightly, rubbing his chest. All the heaving and puking from three days before had left him with a perpetually sore abdomen, his lungs aching.

"No, I like it, it's-" Wendy breathed in, pulled on her corset top in order to collect herself and brushed some imaginary dust off, "it's cute. Could use a fresh layer of paint," she regained some of her usual sass and Vince smiled at the clearly forced attitude.

He got up from the couch, wrapping his arms around her from behind and squeezing his girlfriend. Wendy stiffened up for a second, before melting against him, shoulders dropping.

"I fucking hate that you're leaving," she whined, fingers closing around his wrist and keeping him hugging her, "I fucking hate this place and I hate that I- I want to move here, but I-"

Vince pressed his lips to her temple, bending down in order to kiss her cheek, "no, you don't. It's only going to be a year, honey."

"A year, right," Wendy sighed, looking all sorts of defeated, "a year until we break up."

"A year for us to try long distance," Vince corrected, ignoring the way his heart squeezed at her words. He had no plans of breaking up, but the fact that Wendy kept bringing it up as if it was a fact didn't help in the least to reassure him she wouldn't break things off, "then if it doesn't work, we'll think of something else."

"We're only delaying the inevitable," Wendy mumbled, nails digging in his arm and he let out a sigh, kissing her temple again.

"We are not breaking up," he promised her, "not unless you dump me," it was meant to be a joke, but he was genuinely scared of it and it came out as a question.

Wendy let out a scoff and he could almost hear her rolling her eyes. Vince squeezed her a little tighter, "honey, my parents did long distance when in college and look at them," he said, trying to sound optimistic, "practically hired actors for a margarine ad."

She let out a little watery chuckle at that and nodded, "I know... I know, you're right..." Wendy leaned back, then wrinkled her nose in distaste, "but really, this apartment is so ugly."

Vince let out his first real laugh, deep in his chest and rumbling against her back. Wendy smiled, eyes stinging at the fact she would no longer wake up every morning feeling him all but purr with soft snores, the exact same vibration she was feeling right now.

"Yeah, it's lacking some pink, don't you think?" he teased her, planting a kiss on her neck, "and some glitter."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not sure about glitter for your little bachelor pad-"

"I'm happily taken," Vince scoffed, his voice muffled by her hair, breath brushing her ear, "stay the night?"

She knew what he was doing, trying to distract her with sex, the issue was... It was working. Wendy turned on his arms, shaking her head, "I can't, I have work tomorrow morning. But I'm gonna see you Friday and you're going to call me tomorrow night, right?"

He nodded, "yeah, probably during lunch as well-" Vince bumped his nose with hers, bending nearly in half to kiss her and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling Wendy off her feet.

This was so unfair, Wendy thought viciously, as Vince's hands dropped from her waist to her ass and she locked her legs around his torso, them stumbling back and falling on the cheap couch.

The furniture let out a groan under their weight and Vince muffled a chuckle against her mouth, feverish kisses dragging down her lips, her jaw, her neck-

"I really have to leave," she groaned, pushing him back. Vince let out a sigh, resting his forehead to her chest, since she had some height sitting on his lap.

"Alright, alright..." he planted a kiss the exposed skin, "text me when you get home?"

"Okay," Wendy nodded, before stealing another peck, "use the red shirt tomorrow, it fits really well."

"Yes, ma'am," Vince kissed her again and it took Wendy all of her self control to pull back, pushing him away. He walked her back to her car and it took them at least another handful of kisses, before Wendy found strength enough to hit the road.

She meant to go home, but just the thought of her empty apartment made her shudder and the knot in her chest get even tighter. Wendy parked the car in front of Jonah's building and quickly shot him a text, as well as letting Vince know she was home safe. A little lie he didn't need to know.

Jonah was wearing his olive silk pajamas set when he opened the door, looking super sleepy.

"Dee, what-"

"I can't sleep in my house tonight," she pouted and Jon's frown cleared up immediately. Her wordlessly stepped aside from the door and Wendy entered, noticing most of the lights were off. She had no idea what time it was, but it had already been nearly ten when she left Doveport.

"C'mere," Jonah sighed, wrapping her up in a hug and Wendy squeezed her eyes shut, sinking into his arms. He was warm, clearly taken out of bed.

Her eyes burned, stinging with tears, throat aching as she was doing her best not to cry. Jonah's chin pressed on the top of her head, "it'll pass," he whispered, "you're alright, I got you."

"Can I stay?"

"I'm not kicking you out at 2 AM," He scoffed, squeezing her a little tighter, "c'mon."

Wendy didn't say a thing as Jonah guided her further into the apartment and she didn't even register when they passed by the guest room. It only downed on her once they entered the master suite and she saw Leo curled up on his side, with JD happily asleep against his stomach.

She frowned, but Jonah simply yawned and slipped under the blankets on his side of the bed, lifting the covers as a wordless invitation.

Wendy chewed on her lip, but it was an empty gesture. She needed this, to be wrapped up and squeezed until her heart glued back together and she could be her powerful self in the morning.

She kicked off her shoes and crawled on the bed, taking half of Jon's pillow. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, yawning.

"Thank you," Wendy whispered, cuddling as close as she could and closing her eyes.

"Anytime, darling," Jonah yawned in return.

[crystalsnow95z]

I got 23 drafts that are only halfway finished because I just don't like them and can't bring myself to post them, so I'm going to just type without looking back and post the results. This method worked before I'll just use it again

I asked my friend to choose a number and they chose 2. That makes Yoongi our sickie.

Sickie: Yoongi with flu (emeto warning)

Caretaker: Jin and a bit of Hobi

"Everyone be careful, it's icy here.." Namjoon warns when his foot slips, using Jungkook to catch himself.

"Aiish!" Yoongi tries to quickly grab Jimin to steady himself, but both boys fall to the ground.

"Yoongi, jiminah are you okay?" Jin offers his hands to help them up, pulling Jimin to his feet.

Jimin grabs Jin's hand, but Yoongi doesn't make any move to get up. Eyes screwed shut with pain.

"Yeah, just a sore bottom.." Jimin says rubbing his bottom. "But Yoongi-hyung.. are you okay?"

"Hyung are you hurt?" Hoseok bends down to check on him, helping him sit up slowly.

"No, I'm okay..i just fell on my..back..it..just knocked the..wind out of..me..I'll be okay.." Yoongi says breathlessly, wincing when he sits up, reaching for Hoseok's out reached hand.

"Your hands are freezing hyung.." Hoseok frowns, rubbing them between his. "What happened to your gloves?"

"I couldn't find my gloves. It's just that I touched the snow when i fell.. It's fine, Hoba."

"Are you sure?" Jin asks, brushing the snow off of Yoongi's back. "You should get checked out just in case."

Yoongi checks his shoulder, rolling it back, letting out a deep breath when he doesn't make the pain worse. "I'm okay.."

"There's a little shop up ahead. We can take a rest there." Jungkook says, pointing to a cafe. "Jimin-sii is shivering and I can hear Taehyungie-hyung’s teeth chattering.."

"Sounds good.. I'm freezing too and could use a warm coffee." Jin leads Yoongi, keeping an arm around him for support.

The seven members enter the cafe together, sitting at a booth. Jimin hugs Taehyung close trying to warm the fellow 95er.

"I'll order for us." Namjoon offers, getting up.

"I'll come help you carry them." Hoseok follows Namjoon to the counter.

"Yoongi do you want to go back to the lodge after this? I'll walk back with you if you want." Jin asks,trying to warm his hands. "I don't want you pushing yourself if you're hurting.."

"I'll be okay, Hyung. I'm feeling better now." Yoongi blushes, pulling away from Jin to wipe his dripping nose. "We're already so close to the theater.. it's been forever since we watched a movie together. It's just sitting in a theater."

Namjoon returns with Hoseok to the table, passing out the cups.

"This one is Taehyungie's." Namjoon says, motioning to the one with a stirring stick inside.

"Once we warm up a bit, we should still make the movie. We did leave early in case we got lost." Yoongi sips his coffee, the hot liquid warming his insides.

"Alright. We'll leave in ten minutes.."

"Where's Yoongi?" Jin asks when he looks around the table, noticing there were only five members sitting around the table for breakfast.

"I haven't seen him all morning.. he must still be asleep." Namjoon replies. "Should we wake him?"

"He was up pretty late last night.. I'll just ask if he wants to eat. If he doesn't, we'll let him sleep a little more." Jin gets up to check on his former roommate.

"Yoongi-yah.." Jin knocks softly on the door but gets no answer. He checks the handle, opening the door a crack to peek into the room.

Yoongi was buried underneath his blankets, Jin unable to see anything except for a few fingers poking out from the corner.

"It looks like he's still asleep.." Taehyung whispers by Jin, making the older member jump.

"Aiish!" Jin covers his mouth, relaxing when he sees it's just the younger vocalist. "Vuu, you scared me.." he whispers. "Don't sneak up on me like that.."

"Sorry Hyung, I thought you heard me following you.." Taehyung apologies, lowering his head.

"Let him sleep a bit longer. We don't have any plans until this afternoon anyway." Jin ushers Taehyung back to the kitchen, unaware of the mistake he made.

Yoongi woke up a half hour later, pulling the blanket tighter around his body, a shiver running down his spine. "Mmm.." He moans softly when a ripple of pain runs across his stomach, hugging a pillow to his sore middle.

I don't feel well at all...it was just a dull ache last night..now I can't stop shaking..

Yoongi reaches for the water on the bedside table, hand trembling from the fever that plagued him. Even the slow movement made the pain worse."Hyung..." Yoongi's voice comes out as a hoarse whisper, hugging the pillow once more.

I can't do this..I'm gonna be sick..

Yoongi sits up slowly, his body aching with every movement. "Hymm.." he tries to call louder, but another wave of nausea makes his word break off into a whimper, his stomach pushing up his dinner from last night.

He clamps his hand over his mouth swallowing hard to keep the sick down. He knew if he tried to move he would just throw up all over the bed. Tears of frustration streaked his cheeks, staring at the small trash can underneath the desk.

He felt his stomach lurch up again, trying to untangle himself from the blankets, but it was too late. The sick escaped through the cracks in his fingers, gagging on the foul taste that filled his mouth.

He tried to swallow it down, but another mouthful was pushing its way up his body, becoming more than he could hold. Yoongi moved his hand away from his mouth, spraying the sick all over his blanket.

"Hyung.." Yoongi called desperately, feeling his stomach churning again. He tried to hold down the bile that rose in his throat until Jin came,but his body just wouldn't cooperate with him.

Jin rushes in the room when he hears Yoongi calling, eyes widening when he sees Yoongi throwing up. "Aiigo, Yoongi.." he scanned the room for the trashcan, quickly getting it from underneath the desk and putting it in Yoongi's lap. "It's okay..it's okay hyung is here.." he gently pulls the blanket away from Yoongi, pushing it towards the edge of the bed.

Yoongi hugs the bin to his chest, releasing another round of sick with a gag. "Hyung..." he whines softly, shaking uncontrollably.

Jin wraps his arm around Yoongi, holding him up. "I know baby, I know.. you'll feel better once it's out..don't try to fight it.." he speaks in a soothing tone, gently rubbing his other hand across Yoongi's spine. Another mouthful of bile rises up Yoongi's throat. With a proper bin and Jin by his side, he doesn't try to stop it, allowing the hot bile to fill the bin.

Jin notices Jungkook watching in the doorway. I know you want to help, but Yoongi won't want you seeing him like this.."Jungkook-ah, take care of the blanket for me." He ordered, using a stern tone to get him moving.

Jungkook folds the blanket so the Vomit is covered up by the clean sides, quickly leaving the room.

"And tell the others to stay out unless I ask for them." Jin adds, turning his attention away from his youngest dongsaeng to his oldest. Yoongi lost all the color to his face besides his bright red nose, taking in quick gasps of air between gagging. "Yoon, I know it hurts, but I need to you to take deep breaths for me okay?"

Yoongi nods, trying to take a deep breath in, wincing. "I..it hurts.. it hurts to breath.." he whines, his muscles tightening again to force up a smaller amount of bile, spitting it into the bin.

"I know baby, It's almost over, just endure it a little longer for hyung okay?" Jin wipes the tears from Yoongi's eyes with his sleeve.

Yoongi nods, dry heaving a few more times before the last bit finally comes. He sniffles wetly, leaning against Jin. "I..I'm..I'm sorry.."

Jin gets the water bottle from the table and opening it. "You have no reason to be sorry.. you called for help and that's all I expect from you. You did good.."

Yoongi goes to grab the water bottle, but Jin pulls it away. "No baby let hyung do it,you're shaking and it's still mostly full."

Yoongi lets Jin tip the water bottle by his mouth, taking in a small mouthful and swishing it around to try to get rid of the acid tang, spitting it into the bin.

"You okay, Yoongi?" Jin asks, brow furrowing with worry when he sees Yoongi spit out the water, fearful of another round when he was still recovering from the first.

Yoongi pushes the bin away from himself, feeling woozy at the smell. "I don't want it anymore.." his voice comes out hoarsely, clearing his throat.

"That's okay. I'll put it on the floor for now." Jin places it down on the floor, offering another drink to Yoongi.

Yoongi takes a few swallows of water before turning away, wrapping his arm around himself. "It's cold.." he tells Jin softly when he sees the worried expression.

"You're burning up, though, Yoon.." Jin could feel the heat radiating off of Yoongi's body, beads of sweat glimmering on his skin. "Let's get you out of that wet shirt. It should help.. can you lift up your arms for me?"

Yoongi obeys, letting Jin gently tug the shirt over his head. "Don't go.." he whispers when Jin gets off the bed.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby. I'm just going to get you a dry shirt from your suitcase. Okay?" Jin slowly goes to the suitcase, his heart racing with anxiety to hear Yoongi being so clingy.

He usually just wants to be left alone to sleep.. How high is his fever?

He checks his pocket for his phone, sighing when he finds them empty. He gets a t-shirt from the suitcase and returns to the bed with Yoongi. "Here Yoongi, arms up one more time."

Yoongi doesn't put his arms up as high this time, exhaustion weighing him down. Jin works around it, leading his arms into the sleeves and gently getting it over his head. "There we go. Is that any warmer?"

Yoongi just gives a low groan as a reply, leaning into Jin for warmth. He was finding it harder to stay awake, his eyes closing and opening. "Tired.."

"I know, I know.. just stay up a little bit longer for me okay..? I just need you to take some medicine for your fever.. Hoba!" Jin calls for the next oldest member, Hoseok quickly coming to his call.

"Hoba, I need you to get medicine for Yoongi.. he doesn't want me to leave.." Jin brushes Yoongis hair from being plastered against his forehead, kissing the center to try to gauge how warm he was. "And a cloth and warm water please?"

"Okay, Hyung." Hoseok looks at Yoongi curled up against Jin's side, eyes unfocused and confused when he hears his voice, trying to process who entered. "He's really not well.." Hoseok frowns, quickly leaving the room.

"Yoongi, just stay up a little bit longer, okay? Hobi will be back soon, and once you take the medicine, you can sleep all you want. Just wait until then, baby." Jin runs his hand through Yoongi's hair.

Yoongi nods, leaning into his touch.

"Cute.." Jin smiles fondly, gently ruffling his hair to try to annoy him enough to make it harder to sleep.

Hoseok comes back in the room, placing the bowl of water on the side table and opening the pill bottle. "We only have Tylenol, but it'll at least help with his fever.. Jaykay and Taehyungie went to the store to get more medicine.. do you need me to call them and add anything to the list?"

"Do you want anything Yoongi?" Jin asks gently.

"Some..something warm.." Yoongi speaks slowly, Jin hardly hearing him.

"Ask them to get some ginger tea and some vitamin water just in case he can't hold down food." He gently sits Yoongi up.

Yoongi whimpers when he moves, his stomach muscles tightening painfully. "Ah..Hyung..hurts.."

"I'm sorry..I'm sorry.. you can lay back down right after this.." Jin apologizes, grabbing the water bottle.

Hoseok shakes two pills out, quickly putting them on Yoongi's tongue, Jin giving him water to wash them down.

Yoongi swallows hard, the water feeling heavy in his stomach. He closes his eyes tightly,holding his stomach.

"You okay hyung? Are you going to get sick?" Hoseok asks quickly looking for the waste bin,finding it on the floor.

Yoongi shakes his head when Hoseok tries to put it by him, the smell of the sick only making him feel even worse. "Hoba..don't.."

Hoseok quickly pulls it away. "I'm sorry Hyung.."

Yoongi dry heaves, the pills trying to make their way back up. His body shakes violently, gripping Jin's shirt tightly.

Jin rubs his back, trying to comfort him. "Yoongi..if you need to throw up, you shouldn't fight it. You'll only make yourself feel worse.." he urges Yoongi, but he just shakes his head, waiting out the wave of nausea to pass.

Hoseok quickly removes the bag, replacing it with a shopping bag to see if that would help Yoongi be more willing to let it out. "I switched the bag Hyung.."

If I throw up the medicine won't work..

Yoongi shakes his head again, trying to take deep breaths to control his breathing. His muscles screamed in pain, making tears stream down his cheeks.

Hoseok froze in place, unsure on what to do to help Yoongi. "Hyung should we get a doctor..? He's really not well.."

"No.." Yoongi whines, his anxiety spiking at the thought of being alone in a hospital in a foreign country. "Please.."

"Hoseok-Ah, go and get the heating pad from my room.." Jin says softly to Hoseok, nudging him towards the door.

"R-right.." hoseok scurried out of the room.

The minute felt like hours to Yoongi, the dry heaving eventually dying down leaving him panting to try to fill his lungs that screamed for air. Jin continued to try to comfort him, rubbing his hand down Yoongi's side.

"Yoongi.." Jin wipes Yoongi's cheeks. "Are you okay baby?" He asks softly, using the wet cloth to wash the sweat from his face.

"The..the..ah..smell.." Yoongi tries to explain what happened, but his mind was fuzzy with fever, struggling to gather his thoughts.

"It's okay. Hobi took care of it baby.. don't try to talk..just rest for now, okay? Im going to try to bring down your fever.. I'm not going anywhere okay? I just want to bring the water bowl closer.." Jin speaks slowly, gently moving Yoongi with him, stretching his arm out to reach the bowl.

"Mm.." Yoongi wraps his arms around Jin when he feels him moving. Every centimeter of movement makes his body ache. "Hyung.."

"I know. I know, I'll be quick okay?" Jin places the bowl on the bed, gently wetting the cloth again, gliding it across Yoongi's arm.

"It's cold.." Yoongi whispers, pulling away from him with a wince. "No.." he coughs out the word.

"Yoongi, please, just endure it for me, okay? Once you cool down a bit, you can have heat to help with the pain, okay?" Jin wasn't sure if his words were getting through Yoongi, his eyes glassy with fever looking at something Jin couldn't see.

Hoseok comes back into the room with the heat pad, relaxing when he sees Yoongi falling asleep. "I found it hyung.. how is he?"

"He's really out of it, but i have it under control. if his fever doesn't go down within the hour, we'll try to give him a bath..if that doesn't work, then we'll get a professional." Jin tries to keep his voice steady, not wanting to worry Hoseok.

"Do you want me to do it for you? It must be hard with him on your chest." Hoseok offers, wanting to do anything to help.

Jin gives him the washcloth. "Don't move him, though.."

Hoseok nods, taking it and gently washing Yoongi, his heart tightening when Yoongi coughs. "He's coughing now..?"

"I think it's just his throat being sore from throwing up, but if the kids bring back medicine for cold and flu it'll help with coughs too.." Jin kisses Yoongi's forehead, feeling the heat on his lips. "He's cooled down a bit from earlier.."

"You can tell that with a kiss?" Hoseok questions with amazement. "Woah,you really are like the mom of bangtan."

Jin smiles for a moment, hugging Yoongi a bit closer. "You guys are all my babies. I have to pick up some skills to be able to handle you kids. He'll be fine with medicine and rest.."

Yoongi got a few hours of sleep before his mind riddled him with fever dreams. His breath picks up, his heart racing wildly as his old memories flood his mind.

"Yoongi hyung.." Hoseok gently rubs his hand across Yoongi's chest, trying to wake him without shaking him. "It's okay, it's okay.. it was only a dream.."

Yoongi's eyes fly open, his eyes darting to take in the room, not recognizing the room he was in. "Hyung..Hyungie.."

"Shh..shhn it's okay, he went to eat.. I'm here.. it's okay.. I got you.." Hoseok runs his hand down Yoongi's back, gently scratching his back. I have to calm him down, his fever will rise again..

"I don't want u-us to dis-disband.." Yoongi sniffles, hiccuping between words, hugging Hoseok close. "I want us to-to stay together."

"Oh Yoongi, I'm not going anywhere.. that's in the past hyung. Everyone is happy as seven.. those days are in the past.." Hoseok hugs him back, rubbing his hand across his back. "Don't cry..you'll make me cry.."

"I..i.."Yoongi whimpers, unable to stop the tears from flowing."wan..ev...ry..." His sobs make his speech choppy and inaudible.

"I can't understand you Hyungie, you need to breathe.." Hoseok tries to keep calm, but seeing Yoongi so distraught made his stomach drop.

Yoongi takes a few deep shaky breaths before trying again."The..the..others..i..I want to.." His voice breaks off in a cough, but it was enough for Hoseok to know what he wanted.

"I'll get them for you, okay? Let me just text the group chat okay?" Hoseok gently moves Yoongi to get his phone from his pocket.

Yoongi hyung had a bad dream.. come here..

Hoseok sends a quick message, turning to Yoongi. "Hyung are you okay?"

"My stomach hurts.." Yoongi groans softly when Hoseok moves, wrapping his arm around his middle.

"Do you think you'll be sick?" Hoseok asks with a worried expression.

Yoongi shakes his head, perking up when he sees the younger members flood into the room.

"Hyung do you want a hug?" Taehyung asks, holding out his arms, surprised when Yoongi wraps around him, squeezing the breath out of him.

"It's okay Hyung. I'm not going anywhere.." Taehyung says breathlessly, hugging him back. "No one is."

"I want a hug too." Jungkook holds out his arms, pulling Yoongi close to him.

"Jungkook-ah.. are you okay? You sound weird.." Yoongi asks, worrying about his youngest member.

"Yeah..I'm fine, I just..uh..got a bit emotional.." Jungkook blushes in embarrassment when Yoongi looks at him closer, noticing his puffy red eyes.

"Don't cry over me.. I'll be fine..I'm just..not feeling well.." Yoongi says softly.

"Are you feeling any better?" Taehyung asks, taking a seat on the bed.

"My..my..sides burn when I breathe..but..I'm not as cold as before.. so I'm doing a bit better.."

"I'm sorry Yoongi-hyung..I can turn on the heating pad, it should help." Jungkook reaches over to it, placing it on Yoongi's stomach and putting the setting on low.

"Have..have you guys been here all day..?" Yoongi asks softly, remembering that they were supposed to go skiing.

"Don't worry about that, Hyung. It's been snowing too much to go." Jimin reassures him. "We've been playing games. Staff made us a game room."

Jin enters the room again, sitting with the others. "Me and Jimin made you some Jook.. do you think you could eat a little?"

The thought of food made his stomach churn. "I'm not hu..ngry.." Yoongi coughs, reaching for the water.

"It's okay, Yoongi-hyung.. You don't have to eat.." Hoseok gets the vitamin water, handing it to Yoongi. "We'll get you feeling better soon, then we can enjoy our trip together."

"Thanks everyone.." Yoongi takes a sip of water, smiling fondly at his members who gathered around him.

[s-creations]

Hues Chapter 4: Budding

Luigi makes good on that promise for a date.

He's nervous. Peasley's nervous. Mario, Wario, and Waluigi are worried good brothers. But they're no match for Peach.

Fandom: Super Mario & Releated Fandoms Rating: General Audience Relationship: Mario & Luigi (Nintendo), Wario & Waluigi (Nintendo), Wario, Waluigi, Mario, Luigi (Nintendo), Mario/Princess Peach (Nintendo), Luigi/Prince Peasley Additional Tags: IT'S HAPPENING EVERYONE CALM DOWN!, First date, everyone's nervous, Mario & Wario & Waluigi are good big brothers, but they're not match for Peach.

It really shouldn’t be this hard.

As a prince, Peasley had been trained for many items and issues that were laid at his feet. Diplomatic meetings to citizen confrontations, sword fighting and strategic defenses, being kind but fair in every decision decreed, how to carry himself to appear approachable but one of equal measure to his citizens, practically everything. 

He’s also been on a fair amount of dates. Primarily that on citizens' wishes, when he was younger and had more of a chance to explore. 

Bottom line is that Peasley should be well prepared for anything. 

So why was just picking out an outfit becoming such a hassle?

Letting out a few slow breaths, Peasley’s eyes darted across his bed. Where almost every inch was covered with every piece of clothing and fabric he’d brought with him. Wishfully thinking that if it all blurred together with how quickly his eyes moved it would seek out the perfect combination. In some way.

“How can I have so much to wear and yet have absolutely nothing?” Peasley weakly grumbled out. 

His brows furrowed deeper at the bedroom door being knocked on. Believing it to be either Merri or Gigi, he simply called out, “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

The subtle request was apparently ignored when the same door was opened. Peasley faltered when he turned, planning on a firmer request to be left alone, to find Peach approaching him. The princess offered a warm smile to the stunned prince. 

“P-Princess Peach,” Peasley said quickly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you- What can I help you with?”

“I wanted to check on you,” Peach gently replied, “Tonight's kind of a big night, are you excited?”

“Oh, that’s a word for it…”

Peach’s eyes looked over towards the bed at the number of garments laid out before them. “...Feeling a little nervous?”

“Why do I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing? How do you impress someone without appearing smug? Luigi deserves the best but I don’t want to make him feel, I don’t know, under dressed? How? How do I do this?”

Letting out a heavy groan, Peasley collapsed into a nearby chair. Rubbing the heel of his palms against his closed eyes. 

Peach, on her part, started to carefully pick and shift through the garments. Pulling a few to the top. “You really want this to work. …What’s going on in that head of yours? I feel that it’s more than just picking out something to wear.”

Peasley looked up at this, now defeatedly leaning against his hand. “I don’t want to be just a ‘prince’ for Luigi, I want to be Peasley…”

“Can’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

Peach offered a small smile as she carefully pulled out a pair of black dress pants. “It is strange to be a member of a royal family, isn’t it? We hold a lot of power that we can appear as terrifying beings to others. To some, we’re not even people, we’re just a title.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Peasley nodded, “Yes…”

“Which is why the brothers are such a breath of fresh air for me. They don’t care about my title, that I’m royalty. Sure, they’re respectful towards me when they need to be. They know when to enter the role of entourage. But they also know that I’m more than just my heritage.”

“Mario is an absolute gentleman. When it’s just the two of us, he knows how to treat me well. I never have to be a ‘princess’, I can be just Peach. I’ve become more comfortable being myself when I’m around him. And I know Luigi will treat you the same. You can be nervous, you can be flustered, and I know he will never judge you for it. Luigi is just as excited about this evening as you are. You have nothing to worry about.”

Peasley jerked in surprise when a folded outfit was plopped down onto his lap. The same dress pants now paired with a button up cream colored shirt. A relatively straightforward outfit.

“This is just a time for you and Luigi to get to know each other. Keep it simple, it’ll be fine.” Peach finished off with a smile. 

Peasley, however, still didn’t seem very sure.

“Can I share something with you?”

“Of course.”

“...Back in the BeanBean Kingdom, it had been passed down that we would be needed. That our knowledge would pull us from our isolation as we’d need to help save our lands. I was selfishly hopeful that time would come when I was no longer here. As the fear of…such a burden would be great. Then we received the report we’d been waiting for and I was asked to act on behalf of my kingdom. There was already a panic in knowing what arriving here meant.”

Steadily growing worried by the words, Peach pulled another chair forward to sit next to the prince. “These worries are not unfounded. I was nervous when I received the letter from Queen Bean. However, we’ve clearly established that our kingdoms will have a strong bond.”

“...That is true.”

“But this is more than just our duties.” 

“When I first learned of the brothers, it was after Luigi’s victory over King Boo. We have Boos in the BeanBean Kingdom. Up in the mountains where abandoned towns lay. We avoid them, obviously. The point being I knew the dangers Boos held and was absolutely shocked upon hearing of Luigi’s triumphs. I became curious about the being brave enough to face beings so feared. The more I heard, the more I learned about his, a-and Mario’s, adventures the more I found myself…”

“Fantasizing?” Peach giggled as Peasley’s face turned a deep blue, “You’re okay, you’re in a safe space.”

Peasley gave his own laugh in return, “I suppose that word is the most accurate for this situation. I kept thinking about Luigi, I’ll admit. What he looked like, his personality, just…what was he like? I’m…pretty sure I fell for him long before I even met him. I just sunk deeper in once we were face to face. Then we started to talk and I sunk further. Then he saved me and I know I’m completely gone. Luigi has my heart, even if he’s not aware of it.”

“Pardon me for this. But I’m still not understanding where your worries lie.” Peach said cautiously. 

The wistful look over Peasley’s face slipped away as his shoulders dropped. Nervously wrapping his arms around himself. The outfit pressed close to his chest. “Because…I believe he deserves better than myself.”

Biting her bottom lip, Peach gently reached over to pull the prince free from the self-imposed hug. “Don’t you believe you should leave that up to Luigi to decide?”

Peasley gave a nervous laugh, “Why do you think I’m panicking so much over the smallest detail?”

“Well, then it’s best that I’m here to help. Let’s get you set up! You’ll have that confidence back in no time.”

_____________________________

“You are not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Mario, please, I’m nervous enough as is.”

“I just want to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Which is just code for ‘trying to intimidate Peasley’.”

“No, of course not! …I mean, if it’s a perk I could call it that.”

“Mario.”

“Luigi.”

The younger twin turned to glare at his brother. Who just gave a smug smile back.

“Mario…please… This is really important, I want to impress him. And having you here will make him uncomfortable. Can you please just…not be here?”

“Nope.”

Luigi let out a groan, “Mario, please!”

“I’ll just be in my room! You won’t even know I’m here.”

“Mario, I love you, and I understand that you want to know everything will be okay. But you will make me more nervous than I already am and I want to make this the best night I can. Please, please, please, please just give me a few hours! Just the two of us. Please.”

Mario casually turned to the next page on his paper, “I told you, you won’t know I’m here.”

Giving up, Luigi flopped down into the nearest chair. Letting out an exhausted sigh. 

It had been a few days since Bowser’s attack and subsequent rescue. Peasley, Merri, and Gigi claimed that, even with the excitement, they needed to remain in the Mushroom Kingdom. Just to make sure that the twins did have proper control over their powers. Which in turn meant that the younger twin had time to take Peasley on the date he’d promised.

Attempting to ignore the nervous hurricane of butterflies in his stomach, Luigi had done his best to figure out what he wanted. Thrilled with the idea that the prince would be visiting the twin��s cozy household to actually be on a date with him! 

The only wrinkle was that Mario informed Luigi that he wasn’t going to be gone for the night.

“I didn’t follow you when you and Peach went on your date.” Luigi grumbled out.

“True, you got me there,” Mario replied calmly, “But I just want to make sure he doesn’t try anything.”

“I know I’ve had some…issues in the past-”

“Being left on the side of the road on the bad side of town is not just an ‘issue’.” 

“The point I’m trying to make is that I can handle this. I know you’re protective, but Peasley’s not like anyone else. He’s…different.”

Mario finally looked up from the paper hearing this. Finding Luigi staring off into the distance with a warm smile on his face. 

The older twin let out a small sigh. Knowing he was overthinking things. After all, Peasley had done nothing to make Mario even assume the prince would be planning anything or would attempt anything that would hurt Luigi. But Mario was still the older brother. Meaning he still had a role to play. Which was keeping Luigi safe and annoyed.

Just as Mario opened his mouth to make another remark, their front door was knocked on. Both looked confused as it was far too early for Peasley to arrive. 

Mario slid from his chair to answer it. More than a little surprised to find Peach beaming behind said door. Dressed in such casual clothing that it took Mario a few minutes for his mind to catch up.

“Hey Peach, what can we help you with?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to come to the castle tonight?” She asked calmly. 

“Oh, um, well…” Mario turned back into the house hearing Luigi join them.

“Good afternoon princess,” the younger twin said, “is there an issue?”

“Of course not. I was just hoping to steal Mario away for the evening?”

When Mario connected the dots, he attempted to put his foot down to say no. Only for Peach to grab his arm to pull him out before an argument could start. Luigi watching on in quiet confusion.

“Thanks Luigi! I’ll make sure to take good care of him and return him before the day’s over. Enjoy your evening with Peasley!”

Still in quiet shock, Luigi only moved forward to better watch as Mario was pulled away. The older brother was clearly torn between following Peach and going back to the house. Even though he didn’t put up much of a fight.

Letting out a small laugh, Luigi closed the door. Sighing in some relief as he leaned against said door.

“Thank you, Peach.”

_____________________________

Green Pipe traveled, Mario suspiciously glared up at Peach’s joyous face.

“So…what did you have planned?” He asked. 

“Oh, nothing major. A few snacks, a few movies, just some fun stuff. Things to keep you entertained and your mind will be off of…everything else.”

“Did Luigi put you up to this?”

Peach let out a snort. “Absolutely not! If anything, I’m fulfilling my obligations of being a sibling.”

Mario’s new point of argument frazzled out of his mind hearing the word ‘sibling’. “Wait, what did you mean by that?”

“Do you honestly think I wouldn’t want to be an older sister to Luigi? I want him just as happy as you do and I know Pealsey will be good for him. Plus, they’re so cute together. This also means that you need to relax and not be in the way.”

“I wouldn’t be-”

“Mario, don’t lie to me.”

Said hero huffed, “Maybe I was planning on peaking in from time to time.”

“See, I knew you would. Which is why I appeared, to help you both out.”

Mario did his best to not grumble as he was led further into the castle. 

Then, a light bulb went off in his head.

“Hey, do you mind if I make a call?” Mario asked.

“To whom?”

“Not Luigi, promise. Just…want to check on something…”

“It wouldn’t be to call Wario or Waluigi, would it?”

“...Well-”

“You don’t need to worry about them because they’re already here!” Peach said gleefully as she pushed the double doors open. 

The large room they entered was full of entertainment items. Numerous games, movies, and comfortable chairs that were scattered everywhere. A large tv was mounted on the wall in the center of the room. Wario and Waluigi were already in large, plush chairs. Happily sucking down whatever food or drink that was in reach. The former looking up upon hearing the doors being opened.

“Hey, it’s Mini-Me! What brings you here?”

“Uh…Peach.” Was Mario’s weak reply.

“Huh, same.”

“Where’s Green Bean?” Waluigi asked.

“...At home.”

“Why?”

“Because his date’s tonight.”

That caused the other brothers to freeze up in realization.

“Shit.

“Shit.”

“Who wants to watch a movie!” Peach gleefully called out. Already walking to the large wall of movies to look them over.

Wario quickly waved Mario over to frantically whisper, “Do you think one of us could sneak out?” 

“Me, what about you two? Luigi’s my brother, I should be the one that goes back.”

“But Peach is your girlfriend. You’ll have a better chance of distracting her.”

“Hey, two idiots, don’t you think Peach will spot right away when we’re down one.” 

“Stuff out Waluigi, you’re not part of this conversation.”

“Gentlemen!” All three flinched as Peach pointedly slammed down a stack of movies she had pulled. Smiling in a way that made all three of them freeze in terror. “In case you three even have the audacity to try to plan something, the nerve to think about ruining Luigi’s date, I will personally oversee your punishment. Which will be my decision. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes ma’am.” Was the fearful response from all three.

“Wonderful!” Peach beamed while picking the top most movie, “Now, how about we start our own evenings?”

“Your girlfriend is scary.” Waluigi mumbled out.

Mario couldn’t help but laugh, cheeks flushed softly, “Yeah, she is.”

_____________________________

“Okay, okay, okay,” Luigi took a step back while nervously shaking his hands, “Everything looks ready. All’s set up, food’s done, now we just need…”

He couldn’t help but jump hearing the front door being knocked on once more. Rushing over, he took a few calming breaths before opening it. Luigi felt his heart race finding Peasley on the other side. Said human feeling a little over dressed with how simple the prince was dressing.

“Um, hello.” 

“Hello,” Peasley replied breathlessly, “You, um, you clean up really well.”

“T-Thank you. You look comfortable.”

“Oh, is it too casual?”

“N-No, no!” Luigi quickly attempted to correct his comment, hearing Peasley’s concern, “No, you’re cute. I-I mean, you’re dressed up cute! You’re cute as well! But we were talking about your outfit so I wanted to assure you that you looked great!”

Peasley bit his bottom lip as he watched Luigi stumble over himself. Smiling as his mind was flooded with, ‘Grambi Above, he’s absolutely adorable.’

“Luigi, you’re okay, I understand. Thank you for your kind words. I’m not too early, am I?”

“O-Oh, no, you’re right on time actually. Would you like to come in?”

“Of course, thank you,” Peasley looked around the home eagerly as he slowly entered, “You home is wonderful. Very cozy.”

“T-Thank you. We’ll be taking our food from the kitchen to the backyard.”

“Sounds wonderful! What will we be partaking in?”

“A family recipe. Spaghetti with homemade marinara sauce, a family recipe.”

Peasley perked up at that, “Is this an Earth meal?”

“Y-Yeah!”

“Oh, I’m very eager then.”

Luigi couldn’t help but giggle as Peasley led the way to the adjoining room. The prince clearly excited as he stared over the food being offered. Happily following Luigi’s lead as they built their plate. 

“Here, I’ll carry these out if you’ll get the door for us.” 

“Such a gentleman.” Peasley laughed softly. 

The collective demeanor the prince had held for so long fell away when Peasley did open said door. Eyes seemed to immediately focus in on the garden. It wasn’t large, but it was clearly well loved. The foliage a beautiful green, flowers an array of vibrant colors, large vegetables peeking out between the numerous leaves. 

Peasley had left the small patio to happily dart between the greenery. Bubbly discussing with each individual plant about how wonderful they looked and how it was clear they were properly being cared for. 

He only stopped when he realized he’d basically abandoned his food to coddle plants.

Blushing a deep blue, Peasley stood back up. Facing Luigi with a sheepish smile. “Ah, sorry, got a little carried away there.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Luigi replied. Having placed both plates onto the small decorated table. A rather adorable set up that held a beautiful array of flowers held together in a small vase. Flowers that Peasley noted were from the garden he’d just been admiring. 

“I figured you’d want to see the garden and would get a little excited.” Luigi finished with a smile.

Peasley felt warmth bloom out from his chest. Cheeks carrying a darker blue now while he fiddled with his hair. “Still, it was not very regal of me. Composure is important for a prince.”

“Well, what’s important for Peasley?” Luigi asked softly. 

Peasley snapped his mouth closed. Clearly stunned by the simple question. “Ah, well…I’m not sure. I’m sorry, this is probably not how you thought this evening would start.”

Luigi hummed softly as he joined the prince in the gardens. “Isn’t that kind of the idea of a date? To get to know each other more? You don’t need to be a prince here.”

Peasley was surprised when his hands were collected in Luigi’s. The human squeezing them gently to offer some comfort.

The prince couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Suppose it is…”

There were no arguments as they walked back to the table. Luigi makes sure to take the time to push Peasley’s chair in before sitting in his own. 

“Alright, so, how do I eat this?” Peasley asked.

“There are a few ways.”

“What’s your way?”

“Fork and spoon in each hand.” Luigi stated as he picked up his own utensils in each hand. Waiting for Pealsey to follow the same.

“Now, grab some of the noodles and sauce. With your spoon under your fork, twirl it around until what you grabbed is wrapped around it and… Ta-dah! The perfect bite!” Luigi held up his food ladened fork with pride.

Peasley clumsily followed Luigi’s lead. Barely holding his fork up before said food slid off and plopped back down into the plate. “Ah, I suppose I’m not very skilled at this.”

“It takes a while to be, honestly. Here, another way is to just put a few pieces in your mouth and just slurp.”

“...Slurp?”

“Yeah, like so.”

Peasley watched with quiet fascination as Luigi easily but rather loudly sucked a few noodles into his mouth. Placing a hand over to hide while he chewed, the human gestured for Peasley to follow suit. 

While apprehensive, Peasley attempted to follow the instructions once more. Again, he wasn’t as fully successful as Luigi had been. But he was clumsily able to put some of the food into his mouth. The flush of nervousness was quickly forgotten when the flavor finally hit him.

“Goodness, this is amazing!” Peasley called out happily.

“I’m glad you like it,” Luigi beamed, “and that you were able to eat some.”

“As am I. Although that was not certainly not the most dignified way to eat this.”

Luigi watched as the prince took another bite. “I told you, you don’t need to be a prince here.”

Finishing his latest bite, Peasley hummed softly. “I suppose you did… You said this was a family recipe?”

The human nodded, “It’s one that my mom used to make all the time for Mario and I. I was so excited to find substitutes in the Mushroom Kingdom for this.” 

“Used to make?”

“Ah, she and our dad…passed away.”

Peasley faltered, “O-Oh, I’m so sorry to hear.”

Luigi quickly shook his head. “To use your own words, you couldn’t have known. It’s fine, it was…years ago.” 

“But it still hurts.”

“Yes…” The hero cleared his throat, “Sorry, we should be enjoying ourselves!”

Peasley smiled softly, “Yes, we are… Let’s see if I can manage this once more.”

Attempting the twirl technique again, the beanish prince was provided another clumsy bite. Covering his mouth while he chewed, Peasley offered, “Was your mom the cook of the family?”

“She taught Mario and I everything,” Luigi replied with a smile, “But our dad is why we got into plumbing. He was an electrician and taught us the importance of hard, earnable labor.”

“Why did you two pick plumbing then?”

“Don’t really know. Something must have happened when we were babies that just stuck with us. Even with our differences in work, our dad was still able to get us an internship long before we were able to go to school for it. We weren’t the best off financially, but they did all they could to make sure Mario and I had a good life…”

Luigi swallowed weakly, “It was more than just emotionally challenging when they passed. Mario did his best to take over the role of being a parent. He was able to make an argument for us to stay together instead of going to an orphanage. We got into trade school as quickly as we could and jumped onto the first job offered to us. Probably not the best idea since our first job was kind of a trainwreck. It only took a few grueling years to get the contract to break and we struck out on our own… Actually, our first personal job was how we ended up here.”

Peasley, absolutely enthralled, swallowed his current bite before replying with, “What happened? I mean, what happened to bring you two here?”

“...Oh, I haven’t thought about that day in a while. Well, the job was more a call from the mayor to every available plumber. There was a rather large flooding issue in the sewers that were entering into the streets. No one had a clue as to where that much water could have been stored for so long.”

“Mario and I joined the search and we went way, way deeper than the other plumbers did. We even went past the crumbled area that had recently been excavated. That…was probably illegal, now that I think about it. But, anyway, we were only a few feet in before the ground gave way. I don’t know how far we fell, but I’m shocked we survived. We’d somehow ended up in a really large and old tunnel. In our attempt to find a way out, we came across a large green pipe. And, well…I got sucked in first. Mario jumped in after me. Here we are, I guess that’s all.”

“It sounds like a rather big twist of fate.” Peasley quietly commented.

“Suppose it is…” Luigi gently shook his head, offering a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take over the conversation.”

“No, no you’re fine! I wanted to hear about it, I did ask after all. Do you…think if you could go back to Earth, you would?”

“...I’m not sure.”

Peasley hummed softly at that, taking another bite before continuing on. “Earth is a rather strange topic. Everyone here knows of it, but no one’s been able to visit there as the Green Pipe is always closed. It appears we can only receive visitors.”

“That is strange. The Green Pipes are always blocked?”

“For as long as I can remember. You and your brother’s arrival is the first time the pipe has opened during my life.”

“Strange…” Luigi smiled, “I think I’ve held this conversation long enough. What’s the BeanBean Kingdom like?”

“Wonderfully green. Filled with so much in the way of wildlife and foliage. My kingdom is based around agriculture, very different from the Mushroom Kingdom.” 

“Really?” Luigi blinked, “There’s a lot more nature in the Mushroom Kingdom than Brooklyn. I figured this kingdom also dealt with agriculture. With the Mushrooms and other powers up and…whatnot.”

“Actually, the Mushroom Kingdom is known for their technological advancements. While all kingdoms are aware of and use the pipe system, only the Mushroom Kingdom can build and maintain them. They’ve had that knowledge and tools to do so for centuries, if not longer.” 

“Huh, I didn’t know that.”

Peasley laughed softly, “My kingdom may have been in self isolation, but we know a lot more than people expect us to.”

“What about your parents?”

“Well, you know a bit about my mother. She’s the current acting Queen and was born into royalty. My father came from a family of farmers, who mainly sourced vegetation. But, my father actually specialized in growing roses. It’s how my mother and him met. She had, uh, snuck out from the castle to see the market on her own. Which was not allowed when she was younger. That rule has since been changed.”

“You said you had a garden at the castle. Is it your fathers?”

“Oh no, it’s been maintained at the castle for years. He did, however, improve upon it when he was granted access to it. Which really didn’t take long to get. It helped that he knew how to improve the growth, along with his ability. Which was thankfully passed down to me, helped me maintain the garden to his original vision…” 

“Ability?” Luigi perked up.

“Have I not shown you? Ah, well, let’s correct this oversight.” 

Placing his napkin to the side, Peasley walked over to the warm soil. Cupping his hands together to create a dome over the selected area. On his part, Luigi leaned forward to watch. There was a flash of green and Peasley slowly moved his hands away. In their place grew two roses, one a deep red with the other a warm yellow. 

Luigi let out a gleeful gasp. Clapping as Peasley gently plucked both up. Pulling out a small knife to shave off the thorns and cutting the stems shorter. After both were thorn free, Peasley tucked both behind Luigi’s ear. The human’s face turned a deep red. 

Peasley let out a soft hum as he gently cupped Luigi’s cheek. “I must say, yellow is a very good color for you.”

“T-Thanks.” Luigi was still happily flustered as Peasley sat back down. “Can you grow anything?”

“Unfortunately no. But those that I can’t grow on my own I can at least help become stronger, healthier. I can also communicate with the land. It’s actually how I was able to find you in the hedge maze.” 

“Wow…that’s amazing Peasley.”

The prince flushed once more, “Thank you.”

He looked down as his fork clinked against the plate. Finding it completely empty. “Oh, goodness, suppose I’m finished.”

“Did you want some more?”

“No, but thank you. I was just enjoying myself so much, I suppose I kept eating without realizing.”

“I hope you at least left room for dessert.”

“Of course I did.”

_____________________________

The relatively quiet calm of movie watching was broken upon hearing the door being knocked on. Peach paused the movie before calling out, “Come in!”

A Toad guard peeks in, “Sorry to interrupt, Your Highness. But we wanted to inform you that Prince Peasley and Luigi have arrived-”

Said Toad jumped away as Mario came barreling out of the room. With Wario and Waluigi close behind after their shoving match determined who was going out of the room first. Nervously leaning back into the room, Toad said, “Should I not have said anything?”

Peach laughed, “No, you’re fine.”

Trying to be as quiet as they could be, the trio of brothers slowed their steps as they neared the ‘visitor hallway’. Newly appointed area. All crowding at the turn, harshly whispering to each other about keeping quiet as to not be found out. They peeked around to find Luigi and Peasley standing by the bedroom the prince had been staying at for the visit. Each holding the other’s hands. 

“They are kind of cute together.” Wario whispered in admission. 

Mario, who was smiling at the scene, replied with a quiet, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I still know a good area to hide anything, and I do mean anything.” Waluigi grumbled back. 

“Noted,” Mario and Wario replied back.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

“I can’t hear.”

“Well, I’m trying to listen but you two keep talking.”

“I’m surprised you’re having issues given how large your ears are.”

“Stiff talk bro, given your length.”

“Would you two please hush. Can anyone read lips?”

“Nope.”

“Negative.” 

“Great.”

“Do you think they know we can hear them?” Peasley whispered while doing his best to hold back his laughter. 

Luigi knew he should feel upset with now being overseen by three people instead of just the normal one. But it was an overall funny situation. So he couldn’t help but smile back. “Probably not.”

“At least you know they care about you.”

“Sure, we can go with that. Sorry about this, it’s not how I thought the night would end.”

Peasley released a few giggles, cutting himself off with a small cough. “It’s fine. I assure you it would have been far worse if we’d been in the BeanBean Kingdom. …Not to make you worry or anything.”

“No, that’s…understandable. Either way, thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Thank you for offering it. I don’t suppose claiming to be in a…relationship would be too far out of a request.”

Both felt their cheeks heat up.

Luigi gave a small smile before answering with, “I would say that would be more than okay with me.”

“That is wonderful to hear. I don’t believe the remaining time here will allow us another outing. But I will send word to you once I arrive back to my kingdom.”

“That sounds perfect. And maybe I’ll be able to visit you soon.”

“That would be amazing, but we’ll just have to see what the future holds. I will wait with bated breath for your arrival.”

Peasley gently pulls his hands away to rest one on the bedroom door. “Thank you again for a wonderful evening.”

Luigi smiled, “Thank you for joining me.”

The handle had barely been turned when Peasley paused. Luigi didn’t have time to ask if everything was alright when the prince quickly faced him again. Said royalty pressing his lips gently against the human’s cheek. Remaining connected for a few seconds. 

Pulling away, Peasley weakly remarked with ‘Good night,’ before entering his room. Able to now hide his deep blue flush behind the bedroom door. 

Luigi remained frozen for a few moments in stunned silence. Wide eyes now staring at the closed door. Hand gently placed against the same cheek. At some point, he regained feeling in his legs and he slowly moved away. Still in stunned silence. 

Mario, Wario, and Waluigi weren’t around the corner when Luigi reached it. No doubt all rushing away when the younger brother started to move. Even without asking for directions, Luigi seemed to know where to go. Giving the entertainment room door a few soft knocks with his free hand before entering.

If he’d been paying attention, Luigi would have picked up on the fact that the other brother’s were flushed. Breathing heavily as they tried to look relaxed as they peered back to Luigi. Peach biting her bottom lip as she held back a wide smile as she watched. 

“Hey,” said Mario, “you’re back! How did it go?”

Luigi didn’t say anything. The older brother slid off the seat to approach his brother. Only to pause when Luigi broke out into the biggest smile. Hands eagerly flapping before he closed the gap and pulled Mario into a tight hug. On his part, Mario laughed and wrapped his arms in return. 

“I’m going to say it was good?”

Luigi nodded back, face burying into the crook of his brother’s shoulder. Overwhelmed with happiness.

“Are we going to stay like this for a while?”

Another nod. 

“Okay then.”

Peach smiled softly at the exchange, turning away to start the movie back up to allow the twins a few minutes alone. She made no complaint as the other brothers sat with her. Claiming either side of the princess.

“A pretty happy ending for today, wouldn’t you say?” Peach said.

“I’m just happy we didn’t have to do any heavy lifting.” Wario replied. 

Letting out a low hum, Waluigi said, “Should we be worried that both brothers are dating royalty now?”

“Says the person who’s dated royalty before.”

“Please don’t remind me of that.”

[garrettandoscargirlsblog]

Soulmate(Santi Garcia)

Summary: Here is another soulmate fic! Explores Santi’s journey on how he ends up with someone special. 

Seems like everyone he knows has their soulmates. Someone to take care of him. Poor Santi. After his other  major break up. Thought he would be alone. That changed when finally at long last he was with his.  Don't want to let them go.  Especially now. 

Santi thought he would visit one of his soulmates. Dixie. She is in the middle of her double shift.  Saw her looking so tired. Leaning against the counter. How he wanted to go over there to hold her close. Benny bumps him as he walks by," Hey! Stop lookin daddy. Your drooin all over the floor. By looks of your appearance,and your hand ? Need some medical attention." Santi rolls his eyes as he tries not to touch his hand wound anymore. Looking at the young Miller made him think about how it all began.  Not just with Benny, but also with Dixie. 

Flashback: 

Call it a normal day. Working ,and home.  That was Santi's routine.  Not counting his weekly lunch date with his friend, Cherry. Whom he dated for a time. Even though she is now with Will. They are still friends.  She knows him well enough to know if something is up. On this day she would find out.  

" Okay, out with it.  I know you have something on your mind. Is it that thing we were talking about last week?Tell me you told Benny how you feel about him,and Dixie. Longer you wait honey. Soon you will lose your nerve to do so. " Santi leans against his seat," Planning on doing that tonight. You know I have been hanging out with them alot lately. Want to be with them as much as possible.  Feels right. Funny, I haven't spent hardly any time in my new place. Just go there to change clothes. Doesn't feel like home. Don't want to be alone anymore Cherry. " She went over to hug him," Not alone. I for one saw for myself how they care about you.  Three of you belong together.  " Santi looks at her again after wiping his eyes," Look who is trying to be a matchmaker here. Think the three of us will be together? I'll make a bet. By the time Will and Benny come back from that trip they planned  . We will be together." Cherry takes that bet. Knowing it would happen way before they leave. 

Benny just got home from work.  Exhausted. Body hanging over the couch arm. Santi let himself in. Seeing Benny like that made him smile.  Sits on the couch, " Aw! Another hard day at work? Smells like it. Vomit and blood. The usual. Let me guess.  She isn't coming home?" Benny moans, " Ya, she is coming home soon as she finishes operating on a poor soul. Then she might stop to get some take out. So.. how was your day? Didn't see ya after you fixed the security cameras'' Rubbing his scruffy face.  Try to calm down enough to tell Benny what he was feeling. Have to wait until Dixie comes in. Took a deep breath, " Oh, I was around. You weren't. Thought you were off saving lives, or having some good sex in her office. '' Benny moaned at that remark.  As he tried to move, " No smartass. I was getting puked on by a kid with a stomach flu. Then chasing some assholes from escapin the cops." Santi hears the door opening to see a tired Dixie. Messy hair,dirty scrubs. Didn't want to change. Wanted to get home. Relax. Benny looked at her direction," How did it go? Tell me sweetheart that ya saved her?" Answered him while getting some cold water to drink," Yeah, was touch ,and go  for a few moments.  Managed to stop the bleeding.  Good call baby boy." Come back to the living room.  Plopping  on the floor near Benny.  She could tell that something was wrong with Santi. Like he needed to get something off his chest. Way he was looking at them says it all. Benny cleared his throat, " I know there is somethin ya wanna tell us. Can see it in your eyes, and how nervous ya were just now. Come on, Pope, tell us. Maybe we can help ya." 

Time has come to tell them what it's in his heart. Taking a deep breath, " There is something I need to say before I lose my nerve.Gonna come out ,and say it.  I'm in love with both of you.  Have been for a long time now. Feel safe ,and loved when I'm around both of you.  My soulmates. Took me a long time to figure that out. After that bitch I went out with.  Both of you were there through all of my panic attacks.  Never thanked both of you for that." 

Dixie made the first move. Kneels in front of him. Holding his shaking hands in her small ones. Looking up at him with tears in her eyes," Why didn't you tell us huh? Thought we would walk out on you? Not a chance. Need to tell you something okay. I know you told Benny that you love him when you feel asleep on the couch.  Benny told me he heard you.  There is a bond between both of you that has been shared ever since Benny's last fight. Stayed with him till he woke up.  My confession is that I have been in love with you Santi as well. Was afraid to tell Benny at first. So glad I did. You know he would do anything to keep me happy. So.. never be afraid to talk to us. Let us take care of you okay?" Benny moves to hug Santi really tight. Whispers soothing thoughts in his ear. 

Few days later Benny left for his trip with William.  Hated to leave Dixie alone. Thought it would be a good idea to stay with Santi. Would be the first time both of them would be alone with each other.  Both of them were a bit nervous about the sleeping arrangements.  Santi took the room attached to the master bedroom. Would share the huge bathroom.  Door was opened to see Dixie resting in bed. Looking so beautiful in an oversized tee of Benny's.  How he wanted to be in bed with her right now. Across the way Dixie turned over to see Santi fast asleep.  Shirtless no less. Wished he wasn't scared to make the first move. 

Later on that night a huge thunderstorm hit. Lightning ,and loud thunder woke both of them up. Dixie hated storms. Scared her so badly that she would hold onto Benny's body for dear life.  Sadly he wasn't there. How she missed him. Getting out of bed she tipped toe towards the other room where Santi was asleep on his back. Crawls onto his warm body. Caused him to stir," What's the matter baby? The storm scares you?" Nodding her head," Yeah, hate them don't mind if I stay with you?" Rubbing her back in small circles. Fears of holding her like this diminished from his mind. Kissed her forehead, " Don't mind baby. Not at all.  Want you to be safe. So rest little one.  I'll be here when you wake " 

The trip was cut short. Weather conditions have gone from bad to worse.  Roads were closed due to high water. To Benny it was a sign. Need to be home. Will dropped him off. Benny goes upstairs to change out of his wet clothes, but noticing the bed is empty.  Looking across the way sees Santi holding a sleeping Dixie in his arms. He goes into the room.  Snuggling against Santi. Caused him to stir again," See you don't want to be alone either?" Benny yawns," Somethin like that.  Trip not happenin. Roads are closed. I much prefer to be with two of my hearts " 

Hospital sounds caused Santi's mind to be pulled back to the present. Not to mention his wounded hand. Benny goes over to Dixie telling her about his hand. Rushing over to him," You know this is becoming a habit daddy. Don't have to hurt yourself to come over. Could have brought us a late night dinner.  " Leans down to kiss Dixie on the top of her head," I'll remember that next time.  Promise.  How about you fix me up? Then.. we can take care of you. " As much as Benny wants to be with them. He has a patient to care for. Then he would be back. 

The next week. Santi meets Cherry for lunch. Stands up to hug her," Wanna say this for a while.  Thank you for giving me the strength those months ago to finally telling my soulmates that I love them. Now.. I'm gonna tell you something right before the others. Gonna propose to them." 

Was a beautiful moment for the three of them. Surrounded by the people that he calls his family.  Not just friends. In his vows he told them that he will always be there to protect them like they protect him. 

During the party that evening. Frankie meets his soulmate.  Whom he has been secretly seeing for a long time.  Taking a breath. He takes her hand," Come on lady bug.  Time to tell everyone about us." Molly smiles at him," Lead the way handsome.  Don't worry about anything.  They would understand that you took care of me after Tom's death." 

NOTE: Hope yall enjoy this.  Took me most of last week to put this together.  This one got away with me. Ha ha! Hope everyone enjoys the last one. Yep! Frankie's hope to start it soon! 💚💚💚💚

[melsimps]

It's a Glimpse of A Life I Dared Only To Dream (And A Dream Only Life Could Restore)

Chapter 1: I Was Once Like You Are Now

On Earth 311619, Marc Spector, Steven Grant, & Jake Lockley all somehow find themselves fumbling into fatherhood after their girlfriend entrusts them with her sons for a day out.

...and everything spirals from there.

-

" ...oh, good lord... Jake, that's definitely a you thing! " Steven yelped. "Marc, Cody's doing the tool thing! "

" The tool thing! " Marc chuckled. " Oh, god. I love the tool thing. "

Jake groaned. He folded his arms, frustrated by Steven and Marc's playful teasing.

" Hey, cabrónes , I'll have you know that plenty of people talk to their tools. "

"Yeah, " Steven snorted. " ...but how many make their tools talk back? "

The Moon Boys take the Tulper twins to the museum, and have a fun time playing dad.

It was a fairly quiet morning in the Tulper household. Not much was happening. 

There was a breeze in the air.

The twin boys were playing together in the living room.

And in her own room, their mother - one Doctor Constance Tulper - wanted to rip her own hair out.

"No-no, I get it. I get it," she said, her face contorted into a grimace. "You can't control these things, Van. You just can't."

Connie sighed, running a hand through her hair.

She nodded. "I, yeah… I just… hope you get well soon."

She hung up the phone, clicking the button with a sad sigh.

"Great…" Connie groaned. "Just… great."

On her bed sat one Professor Steven Grant - one third of her boyfriend, and the only thing seemingly stopping her from going on a rampage. 

Steven looked at her, concerned.

"What's wrong, love?" He asked, rubbing her back gently.

Connie groaned.

"Apparently, my go-to sitter for the boys has come down with a nasty little case of the flu," she explained, exasperated. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head in frustration. 

Doctor Tulper had been called in for work at a new dig site for the day - on a day where she had planned on spending it with her kids and her lovely three boyfriends. 

"Now what am I gonna do?"

Steven was usually a man that liked to think before he acted, looking before he leapt. An incredibly curious individual at the best of times (and a deer in headlights at the absolute worst).

It should be stressed that the word used there was usually. 

This time, however, his mouth acted before his brain had the chance to catch up - as he caught how stressed out his lover was. 

"We could watch them," he blurted out almost immediately.

Connie turned to him.

"What?" She asked, tilting her head. 

Her "what" was echoed by both of Steven's headmates as well.

Steven forced a calm smile onto his face.

"I mean, think about it, love... we can watch the twins," Steven explained. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder supportively. "...maybe the three of us could even still take them to the museum."

Connie bit her lip, thinking the idea over for a moment. 

...it would be a good chance for her boys to bond...

...and, the twins had been looking forward to this for weeks. It wasn't fair to just...

...not let them have this.

"And... are you sure?" She asked. "Are you... all sure?"

"No," Marc said in the back of their head.

"Absolutely not," Chimed in Jake.

"Yes," Steven nodded, taking Connie's hand in his. "One hundred percent."

Connie nodded, smiling at him.

"Good, thank you," she said. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "...I love you."

She squeezed his hand.

"...all of you."

Steven pecked her forehead back affectionately.

"And we all love you too," Steven promised. 

Connie smiled gently.

"Right. You guys start… getting stuff sorted, I'll loop in the twins on what's going on."

Steven nodded, watching Connie let go of his hand.

"Alright, love," He chuckled. 

With that, Connie left his line of vision - leaving him alone with Jake and Marc glaring at him from the reflections of a picture frame and a mirror in the hallway respectively.

Steven frowned.

"Don't look at me like that," he whispered, pleading with them - seeing the disappointment from Jake and Marc. 

Both of them simply folded their arms, their discontent obvious.

Steven gave them a nervous chuckle.

Connie walked into the living room, taking in her two boys that sat on the sofa together. The twins were talking excitedly about their expectations and hopes for the museum. 

 "Right, boys!" Connie clapped her hands. "Slight change of plans for today!"

The twins looked up at her, watching her every move.

"So… some bad news first, little bugs…" she explained, her face showing her disappointment at the situation. "I've just had a phone call - I can't go to the museum with you today, I need to go in for work."

The  boys both frowned, with Tobias making a noise of disapproval.

Connie winced. This wasn't gonna go down well…

"-and aunt Vanya can't watch you boys either," she added. "She's feeling… under the weather."

"What?" Cody asked, suddenly worried.

"No-!" Toby squealed, frustrated. "What about the museum?"

Connie took a deep breath.

"Well, that's the good news," she explained. "Steven, Jake, and Marc are gonna take you instead, okay?"

The twins shared a look with each other - an uncertain gaze that showed solidarity between them.

"Hey, c'mon…" Connie took a step closer. "You're still gonna go to the museum - and it's still gonna be fun!"

Cody pouted slightly.

"...it just won't be Mom fun…" he whispered, shaking his head.

Connie sighed.

"I know, baby," she said, assuring him. "I know… and I'm sad that I can't go too - but, listen: you're still going to Grandma and Grandpa's tomorrow night as well. Okay? That's still what's happening."

Cody nodded. Tobias sighed in relief.

"Thank cheeses for that."

Connie chuckled.

"Cheeses?" She asked.

Toby nodded.

"Yeah! On the TV, when people are, like..., really happy about something, they'll say something like "Thank Cheeses!""

Connie thought for a moment.

"Toby… do you mean… "Thank Jesus"?" She asked, holding back a laugh. 

Toby tilted his head.

"Why would people thank Jesus?" He asked. "Have they never had cheese?"

Connie chuckled.

"No, it's just…"

She paused.

Well, there was really no reason for her to correct this adorable mistake…

"Never mind, sweetheart. Now, both of you, start getting ready, okay?"

"Okay, Mom-!" 

Toby practically lept from the couch, while his brother followed close behind. The two of them grabbed whatever they needed. Jackets, hats, gloves… 

(Damn the cold of her home state…). 

"Right, c'mon… let's make sure you're all wrapped up, okay?"

Toby sighed, nodding.

The twins quickly got themselves all wrapped up, warmly.

Connie helped zip up Tobias' jacket. She knelt down to his level, making sure to give him a smile.

"Hey," she said calmly. "Remember: stay with your brother, okay?"

Toby nodded glumly. Connie took note of his sour mood. She sighed.

"Baby, I know it sucks that I can't be there… I wanted to go with you, I promise. But… work called, and well, they… they need me," she explained calmly.

"Work is stupid," Toby muttered.

Connie hummed. She sighed.

"Yeah… Yeah, it is," she nodded. "...but… it's what gives me money. It lets me look after you two… and, whether I like it or not, my responsibilities come before my fun…"

"Why?" Cody asked quietly.

Connie chuckled, shifting to look at both of her boys. She took a hand from each of them in each of her own, giving them a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

"Because you're my kids, and whether the two of you like it or not, you're my responsibility…" She explained. "...and that's a pretty cool thing, because being responsible for something is its own strength. It gives you something to protect. It's a power."

Toby nodded.

"And like with any power, comes more responsibility," she added, finishing up their zips. "...there."

Toby smiled.

"Thanks, Mom," he chuckled. 

He and Cody both wrapped their arms around her. Connie chuckled, letting out a soft "oof" as her boys lept into her arms.

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "Alright. Now, both of you, remember: stay with your brother, and stay with Marc, Jake, and Steven. Okay?"

"Yes, Mom," the twins said in unison.

She made sure they had their gloves on, and gave the boys their hats.

"There…" She murmured, moving a few stray strands of hair from their faces.

"You don't have to do that for me, Mom," Toby said. "I'm basically a grown up already."

Connie chuckled.

"Oh, is that right, Tulper?" She asked, a hand on her hip.

Toby nodded.

"Yep!" He grinned cheekily.

"Well, if you're so grown up, then how can I just-?"

Connie blew a raspberry on his cheek. Toby squealed, giggling excitedly in her arms.

"Maaa-! Stop-! Stop!" He laughed, wiggling and struggling playfully. 

"Stop what?" She asked, pulling away with a chuckle, only to keep messing with him. 

"Sto-ho-ho-hooo-p!" Toby squealed. "I'm just a little boy-!"

"Oh," Connie gasped, stopping her raspberries and pulling away from him. "I thought you were a grownup, I am so sorry, Toby."

Toby giggled.

"It's okay, Mom!" He smiled.

Connie chuckled.

"You'll always be my little boy," she promised. Then, she pressed a kiss to Cody's cheek too. "Both of you."

She stood up, dusting herself off. Connie settled her hands on her hips, doing one last check-over with the twins.

"Alright… now, did you boys bring your allowances with you?" Connie asked.

The twins nodded, panting a point of showing her where they'd put their money.

"Good job!" She nodded, clapping her hands. "There should be, what, twenty bucks saved up?"

The twins shook their heads, giggling.

"I've got twenty-seven dollars saved up," Cody said proudly. "...and sixty three cents."

"-and I've got twenty-two bucks!" Toby added excitedly. 

Saving money had always been difficult for Tobias; the boy didn't seem to have an off-switch at times…

…but, he was trying.

And she couldn't fault him for that.

"Good job, kids," Connie said, smiling at her boys proudly.

Jake was fronting by the time the twins were ready. He stood by his taxi, leaning against it casually. 

The three alters had gotten into quite the argument (or, well… they had simply yelled at Steven), and Jake was the one that gruffly decided to take the lead.

(...besides, he didn’t allow Marc to drive his taxi, either). 

While he may have been slightly pissed at first…

…the more he thought about it, the more he kinda… needed this.

All three of them did.

It would honestly be a nice change of pace, hanging out with the twins.

…it'd beat criminals and monsters, that was for sure.

Connie chuckled, dusting her hands off.

"Alright. You got everything?" She asked, standing from the door.

Jake checked his pockets quickly.

"Uh… wallet, keys… yep."

"How about kids?" Connie offered, with a hand on each of her boys shoulders.

Jake chuckled. The twins let out their own little squeals of laughter.

"Ah, just what I was missing!"

Connie snorted. She shook her head.

"Alright… you two, go with Jake now, yeah?"

The twins nodded, trudging over to him. 

"He'll take good care of you," she promised.

She looked up at Jake, raising a brow.

"Right?"

Jake gulped. He nodded, smiling slightly nervously.

"Right. You boys'll be fine with us."

Connie chuckled. "Alright, alright. Now, go… have fun."

She made sure to point in their general direction.

"And remember!" Connie called out. "Be good!" 

"We will!" Toby called back, smiling wide.

Connie chuckled. "Oh, I wasn't talking about you two, honey."

She glanced at Jake, who chuckled nervously. Jake swallowed hard.

"Ah, we'll be fine. Isn't that right, boys?"

Toby and Cody both shrugged. They nodded. Connie chuckled.

"Alright. I'll see you boys later," 

She kissed her sons on their cheeks again. Then, she gave Jake a soft peck on the lips.

"I'll text you three when I get back, okay?"

Jake nodded.

"Si. Comprendo, mi reina," he promised, his forehead on hers. "The twins will be fine."

Connie smiled.

"Thanks, Jakey…" She whispered.

Toby and Cody both grimaced, making dramatic noises at their mother's display of affection.

"Gross…" Toby grimaced.

"Ew-!" Cody squirmed, making fake vomiting noises. 

Connie chuckled.

"Alright. Alright, I've gotta get ready for work. You boys have fun."

"Will do, Mom!" Toby nodded.

"Bye-!" Cody waved.

-

They quickly started driving to the museum, with the twins buckled into their seats, and Jake focused intently behind the wheel.

Toby sighed, boredom taking over the eight year old.

He could only swing his little legs for so long…

Tobias looked about the back of the cab curiously, trying to find something to entertain himself with. 

"Hey, Jake?" Tobias asked.

Jake hummed.

"...Why is there wool back here?" The boy inquired.

"Yeah, do you have a cat or something?" Cody asked.

"Ah, no…" Jake shook his head. "It's… well, I use it."

Toby tilted his head.

"How?"

"Well, I… crochet," Jake explained. "It's… kind of like knitting? You… hook wool together to make something."

Toby nodded.

"Neat," he said with with smile on his face.

His eye was caught by a Mustard yellow blanket. A woollen one that looked... really comfy, honestly.

"Did you make this?" Toby asked, curiously.

Jake hummed. He looked in his mirror, spotting the blanket that Tobias held. It was made from a chunky yellow wool, and was one he was... really proud of. Jake nodded.

"Yep. Made it myself," he said proudly, showing off a little bit (as Steven and Marc were never that good when it came to crochet... and they felt oddly jealous of their headmate's talent).

"Ooh," the twins said in sync. 

Toby spread the blanket between himself and Cody. It covered their laps. Cody smiled, sneaking his hands under it to keep warm.

"Thanks," he whispered to his brother, giggling a little.

"No problem," Toby whisper-giggled back, cuddling up with his brother.

Jake chuckled.

Kids...

...what were they like?

Cody glanced at Toby quickly. Wordlessly, something seemed to be communicated between the two. 

"Hey, Jake?" Tobias asked, fidgeting with his seat belt. 

Jake hummed, glancing back in the mirror.

Cody squeezed his brother's hand supportively. Toby took a deep breath.

"Can we put on some music?" He asked nervously.

Jake chuckled. "Yeah… the radio doesn't work that great, but… I've got some CD's in the back… Cody, under the seat in front of you."

Cody glanced at the seat in front of him. He reached a hand out and pulled out a black…

Well, it looked like a folder.

"What is this?" He asked.

Jake smiled. "That, kids, is a CD wallet. It keeps all your music for travel in one neat place."

"Ooh…" Toby and Cody both went at once.

He heard Marc and Steven chuckle.

The twins were so easily amused.

They started looking through the CD's, with some being outright refused by Jake ("Connie would kill me if I played that one, Marc!"), while others were grimaced at by the twins.

Until…

"Hey, what's this one?" Toby asked, picking up one of the CD's.

Jake chuckled. He gripped the wheel tighter.

"I don't know, kid. What's it say?"

Toby furrowed his brow, reading the scrawl on the disk.

"It says… Bug Music…" Tobias said. 

He looked up.

"Does that mean music for bugs, or music about bugs?" The boy asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

Cody shrugged.

"I don't know," Jake mused, loving how their minds worked. "Maybe it's music that makes you think of Bugs."

Cody hummed.

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"Marc," Jake thought. "Is that one okay for the kids?"

Marc nodded from the rear view mirror.

"Yeah, it should be… mostly just music I used when we were getting over Bug, you know?"

"What, the sad stuff?" Steven asked, from the driver's side window. "The music you cried yourself to sleep to?"

Marc scoffed, rolling his eyes. Jake chuckled.

"Alright… c'mon, kid. Hand me the CD," he reached back.

Toby placed the case in his hand. Jake slowly, carefully slid it into the CD player and pressed play.

The first song started to play, and Jake instantly remembered the days where that disc in particular got played.

And all the memories flooded back as Jake drove to the museum.

-

There was an exhibit on animals and dinosaurs, the twins said, that the three of them just "had to see."

"Hey, c'mon, Steven!" Toby said, dragging the man with one hand.

"Yeah-! Everyone's gonna want to see the dinosaurs!" Cody agreed. "We gotta be fast!"

Steven chuckled, allowing the boys to lead the way.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," he relented.

The twins dragged him to a large stegosaurus skeleton.

"Ooh…" Toby mused, looking up at the fossil. "...he's big."

Steven nodded. He chuckled a little at the boy's obvious statement.

"Definitely. Isn't he?" He asked. "And just think, he must've eaten all of his veggies."

The twins both laughed a little.

"Now, do you know what kind of dinosaur this is?" Steven asked, crouching down to roughly their height. 

"It's… it's a stegosaurus," Cody said excitedly. "A-a quadrupedal herbivorous dinosaur."

Toby nodded excitedly.

"-that means it eats plants and stuff!"

Steven chuckled again, watching the two boys bounce off of each other with facts.

"-and they lived in… herds and had very little brains," Cody explained.

He looked back to Toby, hoping for his brother to add onto the pile of information.

"Yeah! And-and it has massive tail spikes!" Toby added, stretching his arms out wide. Then he paused, thinking for a moment. "...or, well… had…"

Steven chuckled.

"Indeed…"

Cody tugged on his sleeve. He turned to face the boy.

"Yeah, Cody?" Steven asked, smiling softly.

"Um…" Cody fidgeted with his hands. "It's… the-the tail spikes? They've got a name…"

Steven hummed, intrigued.

"Oh, do they?" He asked curiously. "What are they called?"

Cody curled a finger, beckoning him closer. Steven leaned in, his ear getting closer to the boy's mouth.

"...thagomizer," Cody whispered, as though the word was a secret.

Steven gasped.

"No-! Really?" He asked, hand on his chest in a playful faux-surprise.

Cody giggled, nodding.

"Yes-!" He laughed. "I-I read it in this big book-! And-and… it stuck out to me!"

Steven hummed.

"Well, that certainly is interesting," he noted. 

The twins tugged on his hands, ready to drag him around the exhibit.

"Look!" Cody said excitedly. "A hippo!"

"Hippo!" Toby squealed, just as excited as his brother at the plastic replica of the animal. 

Steven chuckled, shaking his head. The two of them were so excited over it…

It was heartwarming.

"They're, like… so big!" Toby explained, stretching his arms out. 

Cody nodded in agreement. "We saw some, when-when we went to the zoo last summer. And-and they were giant!"

Toby giggled, going along with his brother.

"Yeah! And know what?"

Steven shook his head.

"What?"

"Mom said that they're, like… super dangerous!" Toby explained.

"Oh, are they?" Steven asked.

The twins both nodded.

"Mh-hmm." Cody confirmed. "They're… one of the most dangerous animals on the planet!"

Steven gasped playfully.

"Oh, my goodness-!" He said, in faux exaggeration.

Cody nodded.

"But this one isn't real."

"Yeah!" Toby agreed. "Just like that bear!"

The boy pointed to a nearby display…

…of a taxidermied black bear.

"...don't tell them-!" Both Jake and Marc screamed in the back of his head.

-

Up next was the Hall of Oddities and Mythologies. And Steven was excited.

"Oh my giddy aunt," Steven said excitedly.

He practically ran to the Egyptian section, with the twins giggling and squealing as they chased after him.

"Steven-!" Cody giggled. "Wait up!"

"Yeah!" Toby added, laughing just as hard as his brother.

Steven froze, pausing to catch the twins as they bumped into him.

"Oh, sorry, lads," he chuckled, shifting from foot to foot. "Just got a little excited there. They've got this amazing exhibit on ancient Egypt, and..."

...the twins looked up at him, all wide eyes and smiles. They were just as excited as him. 

"C'mon," he said. "I wanna show you something."

He led the boys through the exhibit, like their own personal tour guide. The twins listened intently to his every word, chiming in with questions when the moment arose.

"-and now, look at this." Steven gestured to a part of the exhibit.

The twins both studied the artifact intently. Their heads tilted in curiosity. Steven chuckled, watching them gaze into the display case.

"Wow..." Toby whispered. "What's this?"

"This, boys, is a mummified cat," Steven said.

The twins both looked horrified. 

"Oh no, poor kitty," Cody whimpered.

"Who would do something like this?" Toby asked.

Steven's smile fell.

"Hey, hey, hey... boys, please don't be sad!" Steven pleaded.

"But... someone dissenboweled the poor cat!" Cody protested. "Someone was mean to him!"

Steven gasped, realising that the boys needed more information than he had given them. 

"No, no. Nobody was mwan to the kitty-!" He protested.

"But... then why did they make him a mummy?" Toby asked.

"The ancient Egyptians really liked cats!" Steven explained. "And-and mummification was a difficult process that required a lot of hard work! It was saved for those that were very special... like cats."

The twins looked up at him.

"They'd never harm a poor cat," he explained. "They liked them too much. Besides, mummification meant that the cat would last a really long time, yeah?"

The twins both nodded.

"Yeah," Cody said sadly.

"It was a way for them to remember their dead loved ones," Steven promised. 

Toby gasped.

"Like Mom with Rover!" He squealed.

"Rover?"

Toby nodded. Cody smiled, nodding alongside his brother.

"Rover!"

"Yeah! The dog mom had as a kid," Toby explained. "Mom kept his collar, and she sometimes wears it when she's sad."

Steven hummed.

"...so, they weren't just being mean to the cats?" Cody asked.

Steven chuckled, he shook his head.

"Cody, cats were sacred to the ancient Egyptians. They'd never hurt them," he promised. 

Cody let out a sigh in relief.

"Oh, that's good," he chuckled. 

"In fact... they actually used to grieve their cats, and shaved off their eyebrows as a sign of respect!" Steven added. 

The three of them carried on, travelling around the exhibit together. 

There was a taxidermied... something... in a glass case. It looked like a rabbit, with a couple more things sewn onto it (...even if he couldn't see the seams). Cody looked at it intently. Steven crouched down beside him.

"So... what's this then?" Steven asked, curiously.

Cody turned to face him. "Jackalope."

His voice made it sound like the most obvious thing on the planet. Steven nodded, intrigued.

"They're... like rabbits," Cody explained. "They're really timid and only come out at night during warm months."

"Oh, do they?" Steven asked, smiling.

Cody nodded.

"I've even seen some before."

"You have?" He asked.

Cody nodded again. The boy actually smiled a little.

"Once. When I was at Grandma and Grandpa's. I couldn't sleep, and neither could Grandma. So, we sat in the back yard for a bit," the boy told him. "And a mama one came with her kaunlits."

He looked at Cody. A look of confusion spread across his face.

"Kaunlits?" Steven asked.

Cody nodded.

"Her babies," he explained.

"Oh... continue," Steven said with a chuckle.

Cody smiled. He carried on with his account.

"And... and they nearly came up to us!" He added, excited. "They were so cute. It was amazing! ...but then, a neighbour's dog barked, and they ran off..."

His smile fell. He had really wanted to see them up close...

"Right..." Steven nodded.

Cody had described the event like if he had seen a fox or something, and not a chance meeting with a magical creature.

...it was oddly sweet, in a way.

"I'm going to go see where your brother is," he explained. "Stay where I can see you, yeah?" 

Toby stopped in his tracks. He looked up at the wall, taking note of the picture framed above him. 

It was... an old ink sketch of a creature, scaled up to a much larger size on the wall. And beside it were several pictures of the tracks left in its wake. 

"The slide-rock bolter..." He mused, looking between it and the description. 

"The slide-rock bolter was a monster commonly reported to have been seen by lumberjacks spanning between the early nineteenth and twentieth centuries," the plaque read. "Sliding down the mountains of Colorado like a toboggan -" (he had a bit of difficulty sounding that one out - why couldn't they have just said sled?) "- and destroying trees, boulders, and anything else in its path."

The creature looked like a whale, on land.

"It leaves behind a terrifying track in its wake and snaps up tourists and hikers who dare tred on its territory."

Steven came to stand beside him again.

"Oh, Slide-Rock bolter..." He noted.

Toby nodded.

"They think he's mean," Toby said. "...but I don't."

Steven hummed.

"You don't?" He asked.

Toby shook his head. He kept his eyes focused on the picture. Steven nodded.

"And why do you think that?" He asked, encouraging the boy to speak his mind.

Toby smiled.

"Snakes," he said simply.

...that confused Steven.

"Snakes?"

Toby nodded again.

"Snakes."

The boy offered no further explanation. Steven hummed.

"Now, I don't know much about Snakes," he said. "Would you... be able to say why Snakes remind you of him?"

Toby nodded.

"Oh, yeah. When Grandpa takes us camping in the summer with our cousins, he tells us - "stay clear of the snakes, it's their home first!" - and it is! We need to watch out for them and walk away!" Toby explained. "When we see a snake, we don't go up and get in their way! We stay clear and let them pass!"

Steven nodded, slowly understanding the boy. Toby kept going, he was on a roll.

"See, because snakes can't see all too well, and-and we can see a lot better," he added. "So, we have to be kind to them! Because they get scared of us if we get too close. And these guys, if they're anything like that!"

Toby pointed to the drawing.

"Then, no wonder they can't see all too well! Maybe we just need to-to keep clear!" Toby concluded, a wide grin on his face.

Steven thought for a moment.

"You know what, Toby?"

Toby looked at Steven, tilting his head. Steven smiled.

"...I think you're absolutely right."

-

One of the temporary exhibits at the museum caught the boys' attention. The two of them were obsessed with their city's former hero, Arachnida.

"Her goggles were, like... so cool-!" Toby explained as he walked backwards to the exhibit.

Marc looked up, making sure to carefully swing Toby out of the way at any chance danger or collisions.

"Yeah?" He asked, smiling at the boy.

Toby nodded. Cody glanced around the room, looking at the photographs of the former hero, of remnants from her fights, and - most importantly, - some art of the two Bug monsters that were often seen with her. 

"Look!" Toby said excitedly. "That-that big one! He's so cool!"

Marc chuckled, looking at the painting of the all-too familiar monster.

Araven…

He remembered the monster well. 

"Stuck up as fuck…" Jake muttered. "I don't know how she dealt with him for so long."

"Well, Connie has always been understanding," Steven offered. 

Cody looked at a picture of one of the two creatures. A blindingly white beast with a long tail and a stinger...

...like a scorpion.

Marc grimaced.

"...he wasn't much better," he added in his head.

His eyes settled on the only footage caught of the two creatures.

"Two brave, never before seen, creatures fought bravely alongside Arachnida", the description read. "Protecting innocent civilians from North American cannibalistic creatures. The scorpion fended them off with Arachnida, while the Spider helped evacuate the injured from the scene."

Jake scoffed.

"Okay, that fight was taken entirely out of context!" He growled. "Mierda… The sick bastard wasn't even trying to get those creepy fucks out of the way-!"

"Yeah, Silbara was just trying to get more people hurt!" Steven added, equally as pissed off.

Marc simply swallowed his frustration.

...the kids didn't need to know how he felt.

"...he looks scary," Cody whispered, grabbing Marc's hand.

Marc looked down at the boy. He felt his heart melt.

"...he was," Marc confirmed, guiding them away from Silbara's picture.

Out of the two arachnid deities, the scorpion was always the much more ruthless. 

There was one part of the exhibit that tugged on Marc, Steven, and Jake's heart:

The only interview their dear Bug gave.

Some kid had written a polite letter to the hero, about having to write something for class, and needing an interview. And Connie had been more than willing to oblige.

"Well, obviously," her edited voice said. "I do what I do, because… it's what I love, right? And… it's the right thing to do."

She chuckled, and Marc could imagine her doing the headshake she always did.

"I mean, as long as it makes the city safer for kids like you, right?" Arachnida asked. "I mean, I have all these powers, and… I gotta do something with them. I mean, I think my grandma said it best…"

The hero sighed.

"With great power, comes great responsibility…"

Tobias turned to watch the recording, seeing the footage of her acts of heroism play out before him. Her voice continued.

"Now, anyone can do good, obviously," she added, with a chuckle. "And, I mean, it doesn't have to be something big. Just a quick… like, helping your neighbour take their groceries in. That will do more good for the world than just doing nothing."

The video ended, and it settled on a photo of Arachnida, perched on a roof - her curly hair bouncing in the wind.

Tobias stared at the photo of her, taken aback. She… looked so confident, so flawless. Like, her heroism was something anyone could do.

Marc had a sad smile on his face. Toby gave a quick glance to Cody, who nodded.

"Hey… Marc?" Toby asked cautiously.

Marc hummed, turning to look at the boy.

"...do you wanna go to the machines?" Cody asked. "They've got a cool robot thing there."

Marc chuckled. He nodded.

"Sure, kids. Lead the way."

-

The hall of technology was where Cody's eyes lit up fully. The little boy loved technology, loved science with a passion.

And amongst the old devices on display, Cody really felt himself. He looked excitedly, dashing towards a display case.

"Look!" Cody said excitedly. "An RCA 630-TS!"

Marc blinked, the boy's technological babble going over his head.

"These were some of the first tvs ever sold!" He squealed. "Manufactured between 1946 and 1947! It was originally sold at a price of $350, along with the seven inch model 621TS."

Marc blinked.

"Did... we get a word of that?" Steven asked innocently.

"Absolutely not!" Jake chuckled.

"That's... wow, Cody." 

It was all Marc was really able to say. 

"Hey, look at this!" Toby said, pointing to another display case. 

Marc hummed, walking over to where Toby stood. Tobias stared at an old telephone set, sat on the case's shelf.

"This thing looks ancient," Toby giggled. "It's like the one Grandma pulled out of the closet-!"

Cody gasped.

"You're right!"

Marc chuckled. The old rotary phone was a bit before his time...

His eyes glanced over the display case, settling on something that brought back memories.

"Oh, that-!" He tapped on the glass, pointing to an old, familiar item. "That was the first kind of phone I ever had!"

Cody and Toby both followed his finger, their eyes settling on it. They exchanged a quick glance.

"Marc..." Toby said kindly. "Did you go to school with dinosaurs?"

Cody giggled. Marc gasped, mock offended. He knew the kid was just playing.

"Hey-! I'm not that old, kid!" He protested. "Besides, if I'm old, then what does that make your mom? She's a year older than me!"

"That's different!" Cody giggled, shaking his head. 

"How?" Marc asked, smiling.

"Because she's our mom-!" The twins said, almost in sync.

Before Marc could come up with a rebuttal to their point, the twins scampered off excitedly, with Marc hot on their trail.

The two of them gasped, looking through the movie posters.

"Look!" Toby said, pointing to one of the posters. "It's that movie mom likes, the one she said we couldn't watch!"

The poster for Chicago stared back at them.

Toby loved how it looked, the black and the white and the orange... 

Marc had caught up to them, and crouched down to their level.

"Hey... you know, I'm from there," He noted, pointing to the poster the boys had found themselves infatuated with.

Toby giggled. "Don't be silly, Marc! You can't be from a poster!"

The three of them started walking through the exhibit, taking in everything together.

"Toby, I am telling you, Chicago is very much a real place."

Toby hummed, his face screwing up.

"I don't buy it..." He said, shaking his head.

Cody giggled at his brother's comment.

Marc chuckled, shaking his head.

But then, he froze, his eyes casted towards an all too familiar framed picture.

"Tomb Buster..." He muttered, feeling a whirlwind of memories well up inside of him.

The good...

...and the bad.

"Marc, we're fine," Steven promised. "Take a look around. We're okay."

"She's back in Chicago," Jake reminded. "That's, like, a fourteen hour drive. She's not finding us again any time soon."

Marc nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Besides, we're not that little kid anymore," his protective alter added. "We're an adult now. We can handle ourselves."

"Thanks, Jake..." Marc muttered, looking up at the poster again.

He felt something tug at his sleeve. Marc leapt back, instantly on guard. He looked left, right, up...

...and down...

..and saw Toby and Cody, right in front of him.

He was fine, he was safe...

...he was okay.

"Hey, Marc?" Cody asked. "Are... you okay?"

Marc hummed.

"Are you okay?" Toby repeated.

Both boys looked up at him with concern. Marc nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, no... I'm fine," he promised. "It's just... this movie means a lot to me."

"It does?" Toby asked.

Cody continued, "How come?"

"Well," Marc chuckled. "When I was about your age... actually, maybe a little younger... my little brother and I loved watching this movie. It was our favourite. And we... we used to play games of it all the time."

Toby gasped, sharing a quick, excited look with Cody.

"You have a brother too?" Cody asked.

Marc chuckled.

"Yep," he nodded. 

"Can we meet him?" Asked Toby.

Oh, god...

"I, uh..." Marc stammered. He couldn't quite explain it to them. "Uh, no... you-you can't."

Cody and Toby both felt their smiles fall.

"Why not?" Asked Cody, genuinely. 

Marc took a deep breath.

"Because... because my brother, Randall, is… very far away from me," he explained. "And... I can't... visit him, or... or talk to him, either."

He blinked back tears.

"...but, I... still think about him, and... he will always be in my heart."

Cody and Toby both nodded, satisfied with the answer.

"Okay," Toby smiled.

Cody smiled too.

"Can we go do the robots now?"

-

Among the technologies was the hall’s main attraction, a build your own robot station. 

The twins had settled themselves at one of the workbenches around the room. There were tools spread out between them, and little pieces of metal and scraps scattered about.

Cody had taken the lead, his mind flourishing as the two of them worked together.

Tobias hummed, turning to his brother.

"Hey, Cody?" He asked.

Cody hummed, looking up from their project.

"What about this?" Tobias asked, holding up a small piece of metal.

Codiak nodded, holding his hand out. Toby happily handed it to his twin.

"What does it do?" He asked, watching Cody work.

Cody hummed.

"It… it's part of the speaker… it'll play noise, like…"

"Like the radio!" Toby squealed excitedly.

Cody smiled, nodding. 

"Exactly like the radio!"

He got back to focusing, screwing things together. His tongue poked out of his mouth.

-

"They're so… Sweet with each other…" Steven noted.

Jake hummed. He felt his heart warm as he watched the boys work together.

"Yeah…" Marc said, sighing. "It's so…"

He couldn't think of the word to use.

"It's just… Nice, yeah?" Marc offered. "Kinda… relaxing, refreshing."

Steven chuckled.

"Bit of a palate cleanser after tired college students and things that go bump in the night, yeah?"

Marc snorted, Jake chuckled.

"Yeah…" Marc sighed. "Yeah, I guess…"

Jake simply kept his eyes focused on the twins. 

"...hey, guys?" Marc asked.

"Yeah?" Jake thought.

"Hm?" Steven hummed.

Marc took a breath, preparing himself.

"...okay, this is gonna sound crazy, but…" 

"...but what?" Steven asked, curious.

"...don't you see some… resemblance between us and the twins?"

"...oh, thank god. Someone finally said it-!" Jake groaned internally.

"I was waiting for someone to say something! Like-like… the-the way Cody… like, he just…"

Steven groaned.

"-he's just like when Marc was a kid-!" Jake chuckled.

"Hey!" Marc protested. 

"In a good way, in a good way!" Steven promised.

Jake chuckled.

"...yeah, I see it…" He mused. "Especially with how he's… he's more cautious about talking. Though, that could also be a Steven thing."

"...usually," Marc added, jokingly.

"Hey-!" Steven whined, playfully protesting his headmates' teasing. 

-

Cody's hand travelled over the tools. He scanned them intently, looking for one in particular.

"Okay... so, now I need the torque wrench," he said, trying to verbalise his thoughts. "...where are you, little torque wrench?"

He hummed, glancing over every available tool. Then, when he spotted the one he needed, he gasped.

"Here I am!" Cody said in a high pitched voice as he picked the tool up.

Cody smiled excitedly, grabbing the tool.

"Oh, there you are-!" He squealed excitedly, only to trail off when he saw the tool's condition. "...oof, you don't look too good, buddy... so rusty."

Then, his eyes widened, and he looked at the wrench apologetically.

"No offence-!" He added. 

Cody switched back to the high pitched voice. 

"None taken," he made the wrench say, moving it as if the tool were talking. A smile was on the boy's face the entire time.

-

"...oh, good lord... Jake, that's definitely a you thing!" Steven yelped. "Marc, Cody's doing the tool thing!"

"The tool thing!" Marc chuckled. "Oh, god. I love the tool thing."

Jake groaned. He folded his arms, frustrated by Steven and Marc's playful teasing.

"Hey, cabrónes, I'll have you know that plenty of people talk to their tools."

"Yeah," Steven snorted. "...but how many make their tools talk back?"

Marc was laughing too. 

"Jacob Elijah Lockley..." He said through chuckles. "Dude, you make full blown soaps and telenovelas out of your tools."

"-and they're good, too-!" Steven added.

Jake huffed, folding his arms. His cheeks heated up slightly from embarrassment.

"'S not my fault I get bored while running maintenance on the cab..." He mumbled.

"...sure it's not," Marc chuckled.

-

Toby smiled, watching his brother for a bit.

…and then he grew bored.

"Hey!" Someone yelled, catching Toby's interest. "Give it back-!"

Tobias turned his head, looking for where the noise was coming from.

He saw three kids, with two older ones picking on the smaller - keeping something away from him.

"Please-!" One kid begged.

He was wearing sunglasses (which Toby thought was weird, but hey, who was he to judge?), and tried reaching for something the other two were hiding from him.

Toby frowned.

…well, that didn't seem quite right…

…somebody needed to help.

-

Jake furrowed his brow.

"Uh, guys?" Jake asked.

Both Steven and Marc made noises to show they were listening.

"...Toby's not with Cody anymore."

"What?!" Both Steven and Marc cried at once, making Jake wince.

"Where the bloody hell could he have gone?" Steven asked, panicking. 

Jake shook his head.

He didn't know. 

He needed to know.

Jake started rushing over to the kids workbench, trying to keep calm. He made sure his voice was level, and crouched down to Cody's level.

"Hey, Cody?" Jake asked. He tried his hardest to stay calm, but his nerves were already frazzled from the situation.

Cody hummed, not looking up from his project.

"Do you happen to know where your brother is?" Jake asked, clasping his hands together.

Cody nodded.

"Yep," he confirmed, popping the p as he spoke.

Jake sighed in relief.

"Well, where is he?"

"Over there," he pointed with his screwdriver.

Jake followed the line of Cody's wrench and felt his face visibly fall.

"...oh, god…"

…what was that boy up to?

-

"Hey-!" Toby called out, his fist clenched in mild frustration. "Why dontcha watch your manners, you buttheads?!" 

The two bullies turned to Tobias, ceasing their game of keep-away.

"Why don't you stop standing up for the freak?" The taller boy asked, leaning over Toby intimidatingly.

Toby frowned, hands on his hips. 

"The only freak I see is you-!" He argued, poking the lanky kid square in the chest.

…arguably a bit too hard…

…as he fell over.

…and into the other mean kid…

Well, that was easy… the little boy thought, chuckling to himself.

The cane landed on the floor with a thump. Toby immediately swept it up, out of their reach.

"You're nuts-!" The tall, lanky kid barked out, scampering back.

"Nuts? I'm not nuts!" Toby pointed to himself. "I'm a Tulper."

He smiled goofily, watching the meaner kids scramble away. Then, he turned his attention back to the other kid.

"Here," Toby held the cane out for him. 

The other kid hummed, tilting his head. Toby realised.

"Oh, crud-! Wait, you probably can't-! I…"

The other boy snorted, laughing to himself.

"It's okay," he said, smiling at Toby. "I get it all the time! People being awkward around the blind kid."

He held a hand out.

"I'm Jack!"

Toby smiled. He shook Jack's hand, and then gave him the can back.

"Toby."

"Kid-!" Marc called out, dashing between museum activities. "Kid, what the crap was that?"

Tobias froze.

…words like crap meant trouble…

"I, uh… well, there were…"

Toby sighed, bowing his head.

"I… I pushed one kid over - and then that knocked down the other," the boy muttered sadly. He raised his head, adding to defend himself. "But-but, it was only because they tried stealing Jack's… cane-thing! And he can’t see without it! And-and they were being mean! Calling him a freak, and-!"

"Kid, kid, kid-!" Marc held his hands up calmly. "We're not mad."

"-and Jack here saw, or well-! No, he didn't, but he can confirm that-!" Toby paused. "...what?"

Marc looked at Toby calmly.

"Toby, I'm not mad at you, relax."

Toby tilted his head, curiously.

"You're… you're not?"

Marc shook his head, chuckling.

"Nope.

"But… but I pushed someone-!"

"You did. But was it for a bad reason?"

Toby shook his head.

"No…"

Marc hummed.

"Did you take the… cane because you wanted it?" He asked.

Toby shook his head again.

"No. I wanted to give it back to Jack."

Marc smiled.

"Well, there you go then," he held his arms out, a sign of that's it. "You weren't bad."

"I wasn't?" Toby asked genuinely curious.

Marc shook his head, clapping the boy on the back.

"Nope. Now, I will admit, that was… a little bit nuts," he chuckled. 

Toby looked down, slightly at that. Marc quickly realised what he had said, shifting his attitude slightly. 

"But, hey, you still did good."

"Yeah?" Toby asked.

Marc nodded.

"Yeah," he confirmed, smiling. Then, his face turned serious. "Juuust… don't tell your mom about this. Okay?"

Toby snorted.

"Okay, Marc! I won't."

Marc chuckled. He ruffled the boy's curls slightly, making Toby laugh.

…a laugh that he heard a bit of himself in.

"Make way-! Make way!" An unfamiliar voice yelled, frazzled and frustrated. "Oh, for heaven's sake-! Make way!"

Someone cut through the crowd, as the two of them heard footsteps along the wooden museum floor.

"Oh, Jack-!" A tall, well-dressed gentleman cooed, sweeping into the scene.

"Dad!" Jack called out excitedly, reaching his arms out for the tall man.

His father lifted him into his arms, looking the boy over.

"Are you okay, little J?" He asked, concern written all over his face.

He was a few years older than Marc - in his later thirties, it seemed. And he wasn't really dressed for a family day out (most people didn't wear a three-piece suit to the museum).

"Daad!" Jack squealed, giggling in his father's arms. 

"Jack, I am so sorry-! Had I noticed sooner, oh…"

The man shook his head, sighing. He nuzzled his face against his son's apologetically.

"I am sorry, my sweet…" 

"It's okay, Dad," Jack said. "Toby helped!"

Jack's dad hummed.

"Toby?"

Toby nodded.

"I helped… helped him get his stick back, sir."

"He helped steal back my cane!" Jack corrected respectfully. 

"Oh, I see," Jack's father nodded. He chuckled, setting Jack back safely on the floor. His eyes were focused on Marc. "And is this…?"

"Oh, I'm… I'm Marc," Marc held a hand out. "We're… Toby's… well, I'm the one responsible for him here."

The other man hummed. He took Marc's hand, giving it a quick shake.

"Zephyr Windroe. Pleasure."

He glanced at the boys, trying to direct the children together.

"Well, Toby… how about you and Jack go play? I'll go have a nice little chat with your… adult."

"Uh, okay… we can-can go back to hanging with my brother," Toby shrugged. He took Jack's hand in his and led him back to where Cody was. "See ya, Marc!"

Marc chuckled. "Yeah, just… stay where we can see you, kids."

He turned back to Zephyr, who folded his arms.

"Sit," the taller man said.

Marc didn't know why, but he felt himself being compelled to sit down. 

"My husband should be here soon," he explained. "He's going to grab some coffees for us."

"Oh, you don't have to-!"

"No, I insist."

-

The two men sat on one of the museum benches, a cheap to-go coffee cup in their hands.

Marc shook his head as he vented to the older man. Zephyr had listened to his ramblings and concerns and had offered him gentle advice - all the while, his husband stayed with the three kids, making sure someone was keeping watch over them.

"I just… feel out of my depth," Marc sighed. He squeezed his coffee cup tightly.

Zephyr chuckled.

"Oh, I was the same for my husband, Jack, and I when our little Jack came into our lives," he explained. "He was so small… and, I felt like I was going to mess up, no matter what I did."

Marc took a sip of his coffee.

"You're telling me," he muttered.

He took a breath.

"It's just… I don't know, I mean, our… my own childhood was so… messed up. I don't wanna risk them going through that… you know?"

Zephyr nodded.

"I do, actually. My own father… Well, he was a bit of a dickhead, really. Hated his own kids," he explained. "Hated my mother, too…"

He shook his head.

"Hated us all, actually."

Zephyr chuckled slightly. 

"...messed us all up - even in death."

"Sounds about right…" Jake muttered in the back of their skull. 

Marc hummed, taking another sip.

"...but, having these thoughts in the first place means that you know what happened to you as a child was bad, yeah?"

Marc nodded.

"I… yeah," he said, realisation washing over him. "Yeah…"

Zephyr gasped slightly.

"Oh, I just realised. Called my father a dickhead," he chuckled. "...his name was Richard, in case that wasn't obvious."

Marc nodded, mouthing an "oh" to himself.

He heard Jake snort and Steven chuckle in the back of his head.

"Well, at least I've got the whole… knowing what not to do going for me… right?" Marc asked, smiling nervously.

"Indeed…" Zephyr mused.

Marc's phone beeped in his pocket. It was a text from Connie, probably to say that she was back from work.

"Is that someone-?"

"Ah, it's their mom… I should probably be getting them home soon," Marc explained.

Zephyr nodded.

"We should probably be doing the same with our boy," he chuckled, glancing over to where his husband was with the kids, keeping an eye on them. 

Zephyr turned. He was about to go over, before he stopped, and turned back.

"Oh, one last thing, before I go," Zephyr added.

Marc hummed, looking up. Zephyr pressed a finger to his lips in thought, rubbing his chin. "DID… right?" He asked, quietly.

Marc's eyes widened.

"What the fu-?" Jake started, only to be cut off.

"Oh, bollocks…" Steven muttered.

"How did you-?"

"My little sister works with abused children," Zephyr explained. "She spent a solid three months studying DID and its symptoms."

He squeezed his coffee cup.

"...as well as what causes it," he added. "Now, I'm not going to press - and I know I'm no expert, but… that boy - those two happy little boys over there? They're so… relaxed with you. It's like… it's just natural, the bond you share with them."

Natural…

…that was another thing adding to the mounting conspiracy pile in their head.

"...also, you've called yourself "we" and corrected yourself about it several times during this conversation," Zephyr added, smiling sheepishly. "But look… I'm not one to judge. Okay? I'm not going to scream and make you out to be some kind of… monster, because you're not."

Oh, if only he knew… all that the three of them had done in Khonshu's name…

"...you're just… a man, at the museum with two kids he cares about. Just like how my husband and I are two men at the museum with our son."

Marc nodded.

"Yeah…"

Zephyr chuckled.

"Right, well… Ciao."

Marc felt… somewhat dazed as Zephyr left, his husband and son joining him. 

The twins came up to him again, and he smiled.

"Right… uh, your mom… she said she's back from work, so…"

"Gift shop!" The twins said excitedly.

-

"Ooh… a coyote…" Toby smiled, picking up the stuffed toy. "These guys are super cute!"

"Yeah?" Marc asked, watching Toby fiddle with the animal.

Toby nodded.

"Uh-huh. And-and mom and Grandma told me stories about the spirit Coyote, even one where he hurt a giant that was eating everyone!"

Marc hummed, nodding.

"Yeah-! And he said it because he lied about being able to fix his leg with spit!"

Marc grimaced slightly.

"Spit-?" He asked.

Toby nodded.

"Yep! And-and he licked the giant, but-! That didn't fix him!"

Marc chuckled, simply watching the boy explain the story on their way to the till. 

Once the toy was paid for, he kept adding to the myth, explaining why it was his favourite.

"So, anyway, the giant - like - swallowed him up!" The kid exclaimed excitedly, tossing the toy into the air and catching it with ease. "-and, and then, Coyote met other people inside who were waiting to die but Coyote was like Nu-uh!"

He made the toy shake its head. Marc chuckled, watching the boy play the dramatic scene out.

"He got them food, and then afterwards he found the giant’s heart, stabbed it, and he managed to get himself and the people out of there!” Tobias explained excitedly.

"...definitely a bit of Steven in there," Jake teased.

Steven huffed.

"Hey, I don't ramble that much!" He protested. "...do I?"

Codiak chimed in, looking up from the display case he was looking at. 

"Hey! You forgot to mention the part where the tick was flattened."

Toby laughed slightly.

"Oops…"

Marc hummed.

"Well, that's… quite the story, kids…" he mused. 

Tobias nodded.

"Yeah-! It's, like… my favourite story that Grandma tells."

Cody shifted a little.

"...I like the one with the lizards, too…" he added.

Toby nodded again. "That is a good one…"

Marc chuckled, watching the two of them. He glanced at Toby quickly. 

"So, what are you gonna call it?" Marc asked.

Toby hummed, looking the toy over.

"...Scruffy."

"Scruffy?" Marc asked, chuckling.

Toby nodded. "Yeah, Scruffy! I saw one near Grandma and Grandpa's once. It was really scruffy!" 

He squeezed the toy tightly.

"-and, and I'm gonna love him even when he gets scruffy too!" Toby added, smiling wide.

Marc chuckled.

"Alright, Kid…"

Cody looked at a resin covered Scorpion on one of the shelves. It was… trapped in the amber coloured block, safe away from him.  He picked it up, admiring it.

"...this looks cool," he whispered, turning it over in his hand.

"Yeah?" Marc asked.

Cody nodded.

"It… it's an arachnid - like a spider…" 

Marc hummed, watching the boy look over the invertebrate curiously. He felt a small smile creep onto his face.

"Hey, Cody?"

"Yeah?" The kid asked, looking at him with a tilted head.

"You know… I've seen one before," Marc said. He tapped the Scorpion softly, making a little scraping sound with his nail.

"Really?" Cody asked. "A live one?"

Marc nodded, chuckling.

"Yep. A real, real live one. And it even tried to sting me," he explained.

Cody gasped, looking slightly scared at the amber-bound animal.

"-but, it didn't!" He added, assuring the boy. "My boots were too thick."

…and he had the ceremonial armour of Khonshu on for good measure against that overgrown bug…

Cody sighed in relief, sweeping imaginary sweat from his brow.

"Oh, thank… thank Cheeses for that," Cody giggled.

He laughed like it was a part of a joke that Marc wasn't in on.

Marc furrowed his brow.

"Cheeses?"

Cody nodded, smiling.

"Yeah-! Toby said it earlier," he explained. "And when mom asked why he said Cheeses, when most people say Jesus, Toby said, "Have they never had cheese?"."

Marc snorted.

"I… see. So, are you going to buy the scorpion?" He asked.

Cody paused, thinking it over in his head. The scorpion did look cool… 

He pursed his lips in thought. Slowly, he nodded.

"Yeah. I… I'm buying it."

-

The drive back home was relatively quiet, with the only sound being the cd playing and the purr of the engine. 

Cody and Toby had decided to relax and admire their souvenirs from the day out.

-

Connie chuckled. She waved as the taxi pulled into the driveway.

"Mom!" Toby squealed.

He practically lept out of Jake's cab in excitement, tearing across the lawn to reach Connie quickly. Connie held her arms out, awaiting her excited son.

"Hey, kiddo-!" Connie chuckled, catching him with a slight step back. She spun him around slightly, holding him tight.

Finally, she let him down, while Cody plodded across to them.

"Oh, you're getting big, Tobes... might not be able to do that forever," she said. Then, she looked at Cody, stretching her arms for a hug. "Hey, Cody."

Cody hummed, wrapping around Connie. He hugged her, wordlessly saying how happy he was to be back home. 

"So sorry I couldn't go with you boys," she said, folding her arms. "Work was so boring. And, I missed my boys."

Toby shrugged. He and Cody both giggled as Connie kissed their cheeks.

"It's okay, Mom," he said through his giggles. "We had fun with Jake and Marc and Steven."

"Did you?" She asked, glancing at the cab in the driveway.

The twins nodded, practically shaking with excitement. She chuckled, expecting them to explode if they didn't get to tell her about their day.

"So! How was the museum, guys?"

"Good-!" Toby squealed. "We saw a hippo!"

Cody nodded, looking between his brother and his mother.

"Mh-mh, and-and we made a robot-! Jake's got it now."

Jake held the little robot up, showing it off from the window.

"He can keep it," Cody explained. "Toby and I both agreed."

Jake chuckled.

"Oh, you did, did you?" He asked. "How thoughtful..."

Connie smiled, ruffling her sons' hair. 

"That's my boys," she said jokingly.

Jake hummed. He got out from his cab, closing the door behind him with a thump. Connie strolled over, with the twins following her like a pair of little shadows.

"Hey, Jakey," Connie chuckled.

Jake nodded. "Hi, Doll."

His arms slowly wrapped around her, settling on her waist. He gave her a tender, soft kiss that left the two of them giggling, foreheads pressed against each other.

"Still gross," Toby grimaced.

Cody nodded, agreeing with his brother. "Makes me feel... bad gooey inside."

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Connie chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Look, how about you two go inside, yeah? I'll be right in."

Toby and Cody both smiled, laughing a little.

"Okay, Mom," Toby nodded.

The two boys darted inside, leaving Connie and Jake out in the cold.

"So... did the three of you have fun, playing dad?" She playfully teased.

"What-? Playing da-? Doll!" Jake chuckled, shaking his head.

"What? C'mon... you can't deny that that's what you did," she explained. Then she chuckled. "...besides, a guy - or three - that's good with kids? Quite the catch for a woman like me."

"Oh, yeah?" Jake asked, chuckling.

Connie nodded. A smirk spread across her face. "Oh, most definitely."

The two of them shared a quick chuckle before joining together for another soft kiss, with her hands resting on his shoulders, Connie pulling herself onto her tiptoes to meet him a little better.

They softly moaned into the kiss, holding each other and squeezing gently.

Finally, they pulled away. Connie panted, looking up at him with her flushed cheeks. 

"So… I'll see the three of you tomorrow night?" Connie asked, smiling.

Jake nodded.

"Yeah," he said, jaw wide as he smiled.

Connie chuckled, kissing his cheek.

"Good. Until then, boys."

She closed the door behind her, leaving Jake with his keys in his hands.

He slowly, silently walked back to his taxi, closing the door behind him. 

Jake sighed, leaning back in his seat. He started the engine and began to drive.

Marc cleared his throat, glancing at him from the driver's side mirror. Jake rolled his eyes.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Well, I think there is an elephant here that needs addressing," Steven mused from the rearview mirror.

"So we're all in agreement here?" Marc asked. "We… We all agree that those kids are probably ours?"

"Yep," Steven said.

Jake nodded.

"One hundred percent."

But that left the three of them with the question.

…who did the job?

[aching-tummies]

Aww, poor thing, want me to rub it for you?

Yes, please! ^^

I wince as another explosion takes place on-screen. The sound system causes the couch to tremble as the speakers are set up all around the room, directing sound at the couch that we are currently lounging on.

I'm on the right side of the couch, curled up and leaning heavily against the far right arm-rest. You've got the other side, right arm up and resting across the top of the couch. Every so often, you move your arm to reach for more popcorn from the bowl we have between us.

It's date-night. We've both had a month from hell, barely being able to see each other thanks to our hectic work schedules. Due to that, neither of us managed to plan anything extravagant for date-night. Just as well, both of us are pretty introverted—preferring the idea of a stay-cation to going out and living it up. A cozy night on the couch ranks high on our list of favoured dates, so when we found ourselves with an evening off together, we flipped a coin for who was going to choose the movie and who got to choose what we'd have for dinner. You won the movie toss so I got to choose what we got for dinner.

Honestly, I've been suffering through an upset stomach all week. I really hope it's not the flu that's been going around lately. Due to feeling queasy, I didn't really have a strong preference for what we ate so I took cues from you on what you were craving. That ended up being some rich pasta from a place we got delivery from. I'm regretting it now.

The lightest entree they had was an alfredo ravioli, so I got that. We cleared our plates about an hour and a half ago and my stomach's been churning ever since. I've been sitting here, thanking my lucky stars that you chose a loud action movie—full of explosions and other loud noises. It's been completely drowning out the distressed squelching from my belly and the dark room we're sitting in has allowed me to hide the tears pooling in my eyes over how badly my stomach is hurting. The persistent queasiness I've been feeling all day has grown into a full-blown ache since we finished dinner.

“Nngh...” I can't help but moan as the reverberating vibration from our sound system against the couch jostles my upset stomach. I'm sitting slightly turned away from you, a throw-pillow clutched tightly to my sickly tummy to further muffle the sickly noises. It's getting very active, churning painfully. Flu or not, it's almost a guarantee that I'll end up throwing up at some point tonight.

“Hmm? What's wrong?”

Everything on-screen freezes as you hit pause.

“Ah...uhm...i-it's noth--” My stomach chooses this moment to let rip a sickly rumble. With the movie on pause, there is no way you did not hear it. Realizing that I've been caught, I decide that I may as well come clean. “Uhm...a-actually...I've been feeling kind of gross all day.”

“Gross? In what way?”

I fidget in my seat. I get kind of weird about all things tummy-related. “Uhm...m-my tummy really hurts.”

Little do I know the effect those words have on you.

“Aww, poor thing. Want me to rub it for you?”

I nod, leaning forward until my forehead rests on your shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as I ride out a painful cramping in my belly. “Y-Yes, p-please...owww...” I can't help but sniffle as I slowly remove my arm from around my middle, allowing you access to my upset stomach.

You waste no time, placing a hand on either side of my belly as you squeeze, prodding into it, trying to diagnose the problematic areas. My stomach revolts at the attention, feeling like it's flipping and twisting at the same time.

“My, my. What's going on in here? Feels really sick right here.” You punctuate your statement by pushing deeply into the spot where the cramping is at it's worst and my guts respond with a wet gurgling.

“Uh-huh.” I sniffle, feeling terrible. The queasiness hasn't subsided and the rhythmic squeezing of your hands on my sickly, achy tummy isn't helping. “ 'm gonna--” I get cut off by a sudden, sour belch. It's short and sharp, but it also brings up an extremely sour taste. I moan as I swallow back the icky shot of sick that managed to breach into my esophagus. A series of sickly grumbles follows the eruption, my churning stomach not at all pleased by the failure to expel more than just air.

“Oh wow, it's very active now. Here, and here too.” You push your fingers into my stomach as you map out troublesome areas—the worst areas of cramping and churning. Every push of your fingers results in a loud, wet noise from my distressed digestive tract and you are loving every moment of it.