#i wanna put them in a fish bag and shake them about

[bluury2]

Vidow.

[luveline]

What about if in Eddie and Roan, Eddie and Reader' are both occupied with wedding stuff or smth else and they left Roan with either Wayne or Steve and Robin, and it's just fluffy fluff about them being the best uncles/grandpa ever?

Roan wraps her arms around his neck. “Why can’t I come?” 

Her dad has pretty much always felt like an extension of her. He’s dad. So when she doesn’t get to go places with him that aren't work or school, it doesn’t make sense. She’d care less if Uncle Wayne wasn’t too tired for a slumber party, because her Uncle Wayne is the best uncle ever. 

“Baby,” Eddie says, in that soft sweet voice that means she’s being let down easy, “you can’t come because it’s a lot to do in one day, okay?” He encourages her face back. He’s on his knees to be her height, but he’s still taller. “I know you want to come, but it won’t be any fun at all. We have to go argue with people all day. Y/N’s gonna put on her scary mommy pants and I’m gonna have to back her up because she’s my girl.” 

Roan just looks at him. Eddie grins. 

“Okay, but will you bring me something?” she asks in a whisper. 

You laugh where you’re standing in the doorway behind him. 

“What do you want?” he asks. 

She leans in to whisper in his ear. When she pulls away, he’s squaring his expression into something quite fierce. She’s confident she’ll have what she asks for as soon as he’s home. 

You and Eddie kiss her goodbye, hands quick to intertwine as you walk down the driveway, though you take your hand back to wave at her with both hands when you realise she’s waiting on the porch for you to go. 

Steve holds her shoulder. “Should we go back inside?” 

Roan tips her head back. “Steve…” 

“What, babe?” 

“Can we get ice cream?” 

He holds her gaze. “Maybe. Depends.” 

“On what?” 

“We have dinner first, and you have to eat two vegetables. Because last time your dad said I’m terrible at looking after you.” 

“You’re not terrible,” Roan says, shaking her head vehemently. 

Roan offers him her arms and he picks her up. When she was a baby Steve and Robin used to call her Princess Ro on account of her never being put down, but that was usually because she’d been traded from arm to arm rather than her being demanding. She was demanding, of course, she was a baby. 

“Thank you, Roan. I know I’m not terrible, your dad just loves giving me a hard time.” 

“He does that to me too.” 

“He does not,” Steve chastises, “your dad is a great dad. Just don’t tell him I said that.” 

“Me and dad don’t have secrets,” she says. 

“I know, that’s why he’s a good dad.” Steve sighs forlornly. “Ew. Let’s be less sincere from now on. What movie do you wanna watch?” 

“You have The Little Mermaid?” 

Obviously Steve has The Little Mermaid. He plops Roan down on the couch and she balls herself up tightly. Steve thinks she might be a bit grouchy today, but it’s hard to say yet. He tries to nip it in the bud before it can start, wrapping her in the blanket she likes with the soft ends and cutting her a boat load of apples for peanut butter. “Thanks, Uncle Steve,” she says, stretching her legs out over his thigh. Steve squeezes one of her feet until she grumbles and pulls it away. “I forgot you do that.” 

Steve laughs loudly. “Do what, babe?” 

“You’re like dad. You aga-vate.” 

“I do, huh?” he asks, patting her leg. “Sorry. Just teasing.” 

“Mom says teasing is okay if it doesn’t hurt your feelings.” 

“Did I hurt your feelings?” 

“You hurt my foot.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing, because he knows it didn’t hurt too much. 

“It’s okay. I don’t want feet, I want a fish tail.” 

“You do not,” Steve says, squeezing under her knee. She grumbles more and kicks at him, a few of her apple slices sliding off of her plate and onto the blanket. She doesn’t notice. 

Robin lets herself in not long after. She’s in sweatpants with her hair up, arms laden with soda and bags of chips. “Hey, Ro,” she says. Even when Roan was a baby, Robin has talked to her like she’s an adult. “You look comfortable. Did you miss me?” 

Roan seems to have missed Robin lots —Robin sits down and within twenty minutes has Roan snuggled under her arm, another twenty and she’s giggling sleepily at the murderous chef trying to cook the Little Mermaid’s crab friend. 

Steve and Robin are best friends, and great watchers, though it’s much easier to look after a kid when you’re allowed to spoil them. They feed Roan chips and soda (though they aren’t animals, the soda is limited to one small cup, and the chips are before a dinner that includes three different vegetables), and they let her jump on the couch and climb up on the kitchen counter to play with the soap dispenser. 

Pick up time comes and passes. Roan sits kicking her feet on the kitchen table, her coat unzippered and her wellies hitting the chair. “Are they late?” she asks. 

Steve offers her a slice of orange. “Yeah, babe, it looks like it.” 

“Are they gonna never come back?” 

“Of course they’re coming back,” Robin says, “your dad has no personality outside of you. He needs you to be happy.” 

Roan smiles to herself. “Yes,” she agrees, taking a bite of her orange. 

Steve kneels in front of her and pulls the two sides of her jacket together. “Your teeth are orange.” 

Roan accidentally drops the orange rind out of her teeth. It rolls down her legs and hits him in the shirt, leaving a greeny tinged stain on his blue polo. “Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, zipping her coat to the collar and brushing her hair back away from her sticky cheeks gently, “I’ll just charge your dad extra.” 

“You’re the best, Uncle Steve,” Roan decides. 

He strokes her hair behind her ears. “You are the best, Roan. My favourite Munson ever.” 

Her eyes light with joy. “Really?” 

“Really truly.” 

“That’s a bit controversial,” Robin says, clipping Roan’s backpack shut to house what was left of her chips. 

“I don’t like Eddie and Wayne doesn’t tell me good job when I wash my hands.” Steve shrugs. “No competition.” 

The phone rings. When Robin picks up, she says that it’s Eddie, and Eddie needs to talk to Steve, who, after a short conversation, passes the phone to Roan. 

“Dad?”

“Hey, baby! Sorry we’re not there, we went to the wrong place for mom’s hair stuff and it was a disaster, we won’t be home for another hour, I’m sorry. Are you really mad?” 

“I'm not really mad.” 

“I’m bringing you a present, remember? So can you keep being a good girl for Uncle Steve? No shouting?” 

Roan decides this is alright. Eddie tells her he loves her about six times and Roan hands the phone back up because she can’t reach the receiver, letting Steve hang up. She frowns at the floor, her head hanging, dark hair curling in front of her eyes.

“How about we make use of your shoes and coat and go get that ice cream I promised?” he suggests. “Anything you want. You did eat all your vegetables.” 

Robin rolls her eyes. Roan slouches sadly into his legs, the beginnings of a smile on her lips when she looks up at him and asks, “Hot fudge?” 

“As much hot fudge as you want,” he promises. 

[pupkashi]

mistletoe-go

satoru comes up with a new holiday tradition

a/n: hi friends !! this is a silly little thing i thought of when i went to michaels the other day and saw their christmas decorations ! let me know what u guys think :3

wordcount: 949

masterlist

satoru sees an artificial mistletoe at the store one day, his eyes linger on it for a bit, walking past it and straight to what he needed to buy. the little plant lives in the back of his head the entire time he’s walking around the store, should he buy it? you guys had already decorated for the holidays, what’s one more thing?

he snags two of the small fake plants and adds them to his cart, smiling to himself as he pays for them, already planning on exactly where to put them.

you don’t notice it when you greet satoru in the living room, smiling at him and welcoming him home.

“did you find the right batteries for the lamp?” you asked, watching as he tossed the bag to the side, grabbing what looked like a clump of leaves and tying it up so it dangled from the ceiling.

“yeah i did, can you come look at this? wanna make sure you like the placement” he smiles, holding back his maniacal giggles as you step close and closer to him, until the two of you are finally under the plant. “oh would you look at that! we’re under the mistletoe” he grins.

you can’t help but smile, laughing at his antics and rolling your eyes lovingly. “that we are” you hum, leaning into him a bit, “you know what that means right?” satoru looks into your eyes excitedly, already leaning forward as his eyes dash from your eyes to your lips.

“kiss me sweetheart, it’s tradition” he mumbles, a small smile as you lean in closer to him, lips only centimeters apart when you abruptly stop. it makes his eyes shoot open and brows furrow, lips forming into a pout, “why’d you stop?” he whines.

“don’t you hate tradition?” you tease, watching as he rolls his eyes, one arm slipping around your waist and pulling you flush against him, the other slipping behind your neck as he crashes his lips into yours.

he pulls away with a satisfied smile on his face, eyes practically sparkling as you chase his lips for one last peck, pulling away from him. he doesn’t tell you of the extra mistletoe in the bag, opting instead to sneak it into his pockets, just in case.

it’s two days later when you’re sitting across the kitchen bar from him, mindlessly eating cereal and watching him making himself some eggs, your mind so focused on the muscles of his back moving you don’t see the outline of the faux mistletoe in the left pocket of his sweats. you don’t even register what he’s doing until he’s standing in front of you, fishing in his pocket and holding his arm up over the two of you.

you look up, eyes meeting the same leaves that were hung up only a couple feet away from the two of you. “did you take that down to put it in your pocket?” you laugh in disbelief, satoru only shakes his head proudly.

“i bought two, one for home and one to go,” he explains, leaning over the counter and placing his lips onto yours, you could taste his honey chapstick when you licked your lips after.

“isn’t the point for it to be, i don’t know, random? by chance? like the Christmas spirit bringing two people together?” you ask, twirling your spoon a bit, head resting in the palm of your hand, ogling your lover as he stretched, heart faltering when his abs flexed a bit.

“oh cmon sweetheart, fate already brought us together, i think the Christmas spirit can take this year off,” he smiles, “I’ll be sure to do the mistletoe-ing this year.”

satoru was true to his word, carrying the small decor item everywhere the two of you went. you were caught off guard the first time, you knew he was serious about ‘mistletoe-go’ as he called it, but you didn’t expect him to pull it out in front of the first years.

your face burned as you eyes went wide, satoru already puckering his lips to kiss you.

“ooooo sensei!” yuji teased, giggling, megumi and nobara had made face of slight disgust, still looking out of the corner of their eyes to see if gojo would get rejected.

“cmon sugar plum don’t embarrass me infront of my kids” he whispers, you roll your eyes at him, placing your lips onto his quickly, laughing when the students shout a mix of ‘ew’s and ‘aw’s.

satoru continue to pull the mistletoe out: at the grocery store, on walks together, anywhere around the house, even at a restaurant once.

everytime he’s act surprised, ‘who put that there?’ he’d say, a smile on his face as he furrowed his brows in faux concentration before sighing, ‘gotta do what you gotta do!’ he’s smile, leaning in, ready to catch your lips in his.

you’d indulge him everytime, not caring where you were. you’d both go in for a quicker second peck, smiling into it as you both pulled away. satoru always had pink dusting his cheeks afterwards, though he’d swear you were lying to him every time.

after such a successful first year satoru made it a tradition. mistletoe-go was something he looked forward to every year, never failingto remember, breaking it out earlier and earlier over time.

“this was the best purchase ever” he smiles, holding the bundle of leaves above the two of you.

“i don’t know those batteries were really great too” you tease, leaning in and pressing your lips to his, the familiar taste of his chapstick meeting your tastebuds.

you’d never admit it to him, but you loved mistletoe-go just as much as he did.

taglist (send and ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[tangledinink]

whoa, i wrote a thing. the first chapter of my tmnt "sorry, teenage mutant what now?" au is live on ao3, or can be read below the cut!!! complete with sketchy title card and dumb chapter title. do i have any real experience writing fics??? no!!! am i gonna do my best anyway!?!? yes i am!!!

“Did you drink all the milk AGAIN!? Dude!—"

“What?! You know I need an exact milk-to-rice-chex ratio in order to enjoy my breakfast, Leo!”

“Have any of you seen my dance bag? It’s not where I left it!”

“Why do you need it, anyway? Isn’t dance on Thursday?”

“Leo, today is Thursday.”

“What? No, it’s not. If it was Thursday, then my American Literature essay would be due, and I haven’t even started it yet, so there’s NO WAY—“

“If my toaster is destroyed, I will be making whichever child is responsible pay for the replacement!” The warning rang out over the general chaos of the morning.

“Oh shoot—“ Yoshi could hear the frantic scrabble of a belated attempt to rescue the burning pop tart, which Yoshi could smell from all the way in the living room. Parked in his reclining chair, the TV playing in front of him, he munched contentedly on his own breakfast which he had acquired earlier before his teenage sons descended upon the kitchen. He was not much of a ‘morning person,’ but it was a necessity if he was to eat in any sort of peace in the mornings.

This was a typical morning in the Hamato household.

Yoshi was used to it by now. The bickering, the bumbling, the hectic last-minute "wait I forgot something's--" it was all just a part of the routine. Sure, it had been a bit exhausting at times when they were all still children, and he had to scramble about like a madman each morning to ensure they had everything they needed to get where they were going. But at this point? He could more or less just ignore them and allow them to work things out by themselves, only occasionally needing to step in and offer a bit of guidance. He had always been a bit of a... Hands-off parent, for better or for worse, but he was fairly certain that he had finally found the rhythm of things over the past several years. Not that that made him a perfect parent by any means, there had certainly been plenty of occasions--

"APRIIIIILLLLLL O'NEIL!!!" The battle cry and hearty thud of his poor front door put a sudden end to his narration, and, though it happened near every day, he startled in response, just barely avoiding dropping his tea.

"April!" He bellowed from his chair, turning just enough to peer into the kitchen, where his honorary fifth child (as if he needed any more…) and next-door neighbor had just appeared. "How many times must I tell you?! If you break my door, I will--!"

"Aw, c'mon, Yosh, you know I gotta make a bold entrance at the start of the morning, or my mojo is gonna be off for the whole rest of the day! Besides, I haven't broken the door yet, and it's been how many years?"

“Bah! Haven't broken my door yet, maybe, but what about my bed frame? Or my printer? Or my third-favorite koi fish figurine?!"

"Oh, you wanna play that game now?" O'Neil countered, narrowing his eyes behind scarlet frames, crossing her arms across her chest and cocking one hip to the side. "Okay, then, how about my window? Or my mom's antique vase? Or my literal entire bathroom--"

"Okay! Okay, enough!" Yoshi spluttered with a dismissive wave of his hands. Dammit. The fact he was technically responsible for his sons’ occasional partaking in light property destruction was still, in his opinion, the most unfair and annoying part of parenting. "Fine! Break down the door for all I care! Burn the entire place to the ground! See if I do anything about it! Teenagers..." He muttered with a scowl, shaking his head and returning to his program, an exaggerated scowl on his face. The kids, to their credit, knew well enough by now not to take his rants and mumblings too seriously and quickly re-engaged themselves in whatever gossip and chatter they had previously been wrapped up in.

Yoshi smiled just the tiniest bit, listening with one ear as Donatello explained to a devastated Leonardo that it was, in fact, Thursday, bringing up evidence on his cell phone, and Raphael and April pulled Mikey's dance bag out from inside the oven, where he had forgotten it for the third time this past month.

This was not where he had imagined his life would take him when he was young. Not even close.

He would not trade these moments for anything at all.

By the time his television show was ending, he was just finishing off his tea and shoveling the rest of his bagel into his mouth. Game shows, he had found years ago, were an excellent means of timing routines, and he had it to a science by now. He pulled himself to his feet, stretching and cracking his back loud enough that his children yelled at him from the kitchen, before shuffling his way into the kitchen to begin the work of chasing the teenagers out the door.

"Alright, come on, shoo shoo! You are all going to miss the subway and be late!" He scolded, occasionally swatting at a stray child with his sleeves. "And do not forget anything, because I will not bring it to you!"

"Dad--" Leo began, his eyes blown up huge and pleading. "I don't feel well, I'm pretty sure I've got, like, a tummy bug, or something? Sooo, I should, like, probably stay home--"

"You are not skipping school just because you forgot to do an assignment." Yoshi immediately responded.

"What?! Noooo, Daddy, please, I'm really sick!"

"I was not born yesterday." He scoffed, shooting his son an unimpressed look. "And I have seen you do assignments in far less time! Besides, I'm sure April and your brothers would be happy to help."

A chorus of groans rang from around the table.

“Enough bellyaching! Come on, out of my house! Let's go, chop chop! Anyone who stays home today will be giving me a pedicure!”

That threat always worked. On cue, everyone fell into action. The boys gulped down any remaining breakfast still left uneaten, (whether it was theirs or not,) in between conversations, TikTok videos, and, in Leo's case, loud mourning about the day of the week. Donatello began to long process of buckling up the seventeen different straps on his chunky boots, Michaelangelo passed out lunches to each of his family members, narrating his culinary decisions as he went, and Raphael hurriedly tossed bowls, spoons, and plates into the dishwasher with clatters and clunks.

"I can't find my eyeliner pen-- Nardo, did you steal it? Did you go through my bag?! You DID, didn’t you!!! I am going to delete all of your Minecraft save files--"

"What?! I cannot believe you would make such an accusation, I would never stop to such petty thievery--"

"Mikey, hurry up and grab your skateboard if you're gonna--"

"OW, Dad, Donnie pulled my hair!"

"Oh, what are you, five?"

"HEY, both of you knock it off because Raph makes ya!”

"Wait, did we have a quiz in geometry today--? Because I did not study!!! Raph, this note had better be a joke--!"

After a few final moments of mayhem, Yoshi finally managed to get all five high schoolers out the door, closing the door firmly behind them with a loud sigh.

He loved his children. Truly, he did. But thank god for school.

Grumbling a bit to himself, he got to work straightening the remaining mess left behind. His sons were more than old enough to clean up after themselves and help out around the house, but that still didn't necessarily mean they did it particularly well. Maybe by their late twenties, they'd start to figure that out, if they were anything like their father. He swept up spare crumbs and wiped down the table, putting cereal boxes away in the pantry where they belonged and closing cabinet doors left open.

Boys.

Truthfully, he had very little room to complain and he knew it. Compared to the first four years of parenthood, things were a breeze. Sure, there was still plenty of work to do, but aside from the occasional exhausting day or difficult conversation, he could practically just put things on autopilot by now. He could hardly imagine how his younger self used to get through each day.

Well, perhaps he could, because, if he was being completely honest, he didn't really "get through" most days back then as much as he was bodily dragged in and out of them. But he had realized long ago that lingering on his past shortcomings was not in anyone's best interest.

With school, extracurriculars, friends and neighbors, babysitters, and a shit-ton of parenting classes on his side now, in addition to the general concept of the passage of time, given that his children were no longer children and now teenagers, he had at his disposal something that he had not had even a scrap of for years before "the move."

Free time.

It had been nearly ten years since "the move." Ten years since he and his sons had donned these disguises and bodily forced their way back into society on the back of lies and forged paperwork. Or, well, he had forced his way back into society. His children were just along for the ride-- and new to it all.

Not that you would be able to tell now, he thought to himself, smiling ever so slightly. Ten years… They had lived this way for a long time now.

It had been so long… Some days, he nearly forgot that he was anything but a man.

--------

"Donnie, here, it's your turn."

Donatello sighed loudly, pausing in whatever he was doing on his phone, (Scrolling through Twitter? Purchasing uranium off the dark web? They were equally likely,) but accepting the laptop shoved into his hands anyway.

"Why am I getting the impression that my turns are longer than everyone else's?" He questioned, his brows pinched with gentle annoyance as he glanced at the other four, all piled together on the subway. There wasn’t enough space for all of them, but even finding a couple of open seats was a near miracle this time of day, so they could make do. Stacking Mikey on Raph's shoulders and denying Leo a place to sit, seeing how it was his American Literature essay that they were taking turns writing, did the trick.

"Because you're the smart one," Leo said, his arms wrapped around the nearest subway pole, leaning so he could read over their shoulder. "This is the consequence of referring to yourself as a 'genius' all the time."

"I'm pretty sure I've always made it very clear that I'm a man of science, not literature." Donnie quipped in reply, even as he hunched over the screen, his fingers tick-tacking across the keys.

"Hey, I'm helping too! That whole third paragraph is mostly me." April protested, crossing her arms and slumping against Donnie, purposefully jostling them a bit in retaliation.

"Me too!" Mikey chirped from atop his brother's shoulders, slumped forward to avoid smacking his head on the roof. "I changed all the punctuation to fourteen-point font to make it longer!”

"Smart." Donnie hummed, not looking up, in such a tone that it wasn't quite clear if he meant it or not. Mikey beamed at the praise nonetheless, a bright grin lighting up his face as he crossed his arms over his brother's forehead.

"Look, it doesn't have to be good. It's just gotta be three pages before third period." Leo said. "I mean, Donnie could also always just hack into the school's gr—“

"Hey!" Raph barked. "We all agreed that that was for emergencies only!"

"Okay, okay, fine!" Leo sighed, a bit of sulkiness saturating his voice, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He reluctantly accepted the laptop when it was passed back over to him, propping up a knee to balance it on and hunching over to type.

"I thought Mikey set up that whole system with you. With the reminders and that agenda app and everything?" April questioned, glancing up at Leo curiously-- perhaps suspiciously.

"He did. I've just been..." He paused, hesitating in his words for just a second. "Busy."

"Oh no." April groaned.

"Not again." Donnie sighed.

"Who is it this time?" Raph asked, quirking a brow.

"What! I have noooo idea what you guys are talking about--"

"Leo."

"Okay, fine. Chase DeFerro." Leo muttered, his eyes immediately flicking to the side to avoid the inevitable reactions of his family.

"Chase DeFerro?"

"The same Chase DeFerro from five months ago?"

"Didn't you two have, like, a horrible break-up?"

"Didn't you block him on, like… Everything?"

"Didn't you say, and I quote, "If I ever have to even see that nasty bitch again in my entire life, it'll be too soon, and I swear to god I'll chop off--"

"Okay, okay! Hey, come on! That was five months ago. Things are, like, totalllyyyy different now!" Leo insisted.

“You said that about the last, like, three guys you’ve dated,” April said, unimpressed.

"Leo, have you ever stopped to consider that, perhaps, your need to constantly be in some kind of a relationship may have some kind of deeper connection to your own feelings of self-worth and the way that you assign value to--"

"Whoa there, Doctor Feelings! Chill! It's not that deep!" Leo scoffed, shooting Mikey an annoyed look. Ugh, he knew he shouldn't have brought it up. "Seriously. I'm just bored, okay? Quit trying to read into it."

"Bored?" Raph echoed, looking at the other with big eyes. "Leo, you can't treat love like it's a game like that! Come on!"

"It's not love, Raph, it's high school dating." Leo scoffed, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “Anyway! Look, I'm only, like, fifty words short and then I'm home free. Who's got the next turn?"

"Fine." April sighed, rolling her eyes. “Only because your girl here writes a killer BS essay conclusion. But you owe me. Hand it over."

True to her word, the last-minute literature assignment was wrapped up shortly, and the remainder of the train ride was instead occupied by chatter and gossip, discussing upcoming tests and assignments in school, rumors circulating the hallways, and plans for weekends and far-off holidays. On the occasion it got too loud to hear each other properly, they’d sign to each other instead, and then switch back once it quieted down once more. The five scrambled their way off the subway when they arrived at their stop, making their way up the stairs and back to street level.

Leo inhaled deeply as he hopped up the final few stairs, his sneakers giving a satisfying thud on the concrete below them with each step. He had no complaints about the subway, (well, no more than the average person, anyway,) but there was always just something especially refreshing about getting to breathe fresh air after spending any amount of time underground. Even if the fresh air was New York City air. Call him crazy, but he'd never get tired of it.

The group began the final length of their journey, closing the three-block gap between the subway station and their high school-- most of them on foot, Mikey on his skateboard, though he was less skateboarding and more standing on his skateboard and hanging onto the back of Raph's shirt so his older brother would drag him along. Leo wondered absently if he could get away with that, too, before April's voice finally snapped him back into reality.

"You busy after school today?"

"Until six!" He replied, stretching his arms back to lace his fingers behind his head as they walked. "Dee and I have gymnastics."

“Next competition is tomorrow.” Donnie hummed, not looking up from his phone. "So we're getting in the extra hours."

"You know we've got a rep to uphold!" Leo sing-songed, his mouth stretching into a wide, smug grin. "Gotta keep that flawless record for the rest of the season."

It was very well known, to anyone who ran in such circles, that the Hamato Twins were all but sure to take the top two places in any gymnastics meet that they showed up to-- it was just a question of in what order they would do so. Of all the various sports that they participated in, gymnastics was just about the only one where it was truly a coin flip. The only other two extracurriculars they shared were swimming, where Donnie consistently took first place, and martial arts, where they both knew Leo was more likely to come out on top. But gymnastics? It was anybody's guess, and they flip-flopped from first to second just about every other event. For just a moment, Leo caught his twin's eye-- coz he knew he was thinking the exact same thing right now.

Coz he knew they both wanted to win.

Coz they both wanted to rub it in the other's face.

(Of course, they both also knew that the only reason they got to have this little song-and-dance to begin with was because Mikey was still in the age bracket below them. Wouldn't everyone be just so delighted to finally see the Hamato Twins usurped in the coming season... By another Hamato.)

“And Raph has work… Ugh! Y’all are too damn busy!” April huffed, leaning her head back and wrinkling up her nose.

“I’ve got a little bit of time.” Mikey chimed in, leaning over just enough to offer April a grin. “I don’t gotta be at dance until four. I was gonna go work on that mural I’ve got going up north. Wanna come?”

“Beats sitting at home doing homework.” April reasoned, giving a shrug. “I’m in!”

“Shweet!”

Leo smiled a tiny bit. Though he did, in fact, have complete confidence in his little brother’s ability to traverse the city safely, it was still kind of nice to know he’d be with someone else. If, for no other reason, then to know that Raph would now worry about Mikey at least 80% less during the coming evening.

“Alright,” Speaking of worrisome older brothers, Raph began his typical pre-school speech as they approached the front entrance. “No one be late. No one skip class.” Who, him? What was that pointed look for? He would never… Get caught more than once in a week. “And no one get in any trouble. Don’t do anything Raph wouldn’t do.”

“Yes sir!” The four of them barked in reply as they approached the entrance of their high school. Mostly, they were all just making fun of him. But Leo figured humoring him wouldn’t hurt, especially if it helped him chill a little bit. Raph had always taken his role as “the biggest brother” pretty seriously, ever since they were really little, though Leo wasn’t exactly sure why. He was always the one in charge whenever their dad wasn’t around, and Leo suspected he had a hard time ever completely dropping that mindset.

I mean, don’t get him wrong, Raph was just as capable of fucking around, goofing off, and getting into shit as the rest of them, for sure, he just sometimes wished he could… Relax a little. It wasn’t like anything bad was gonna happen, but Raph always kind of just had this air to him like he was expecting enemies to leap out from behind the corner and attack them at any moment. Like he always had to protect them all. Which Leo could get, sure, but, like… Wouldn’t it be kind of cool if someone did try to start some shit with them or something, just so that they could see the look on their face when they totally kicked their ass? Leo could only imagine it’d be pretty hilarious.

The five of them went their separate ways, parting with various promises to see each other at lunch, after school, at home, etc. April and Raph went one way, Mikey went another, and Leo and Donnie split off in a different direction still, heading towards the East Wing.

And as they cleared the corner, Leo whipped around to face Donnie, stabbing them in the side with a spare elbow. “Last one to homeroom gets second place at gymnastics tomorrow!” He declared, immediately taking off down the hall.

“Wha— Leo! This is unfair, I’m wearing platforms! You know I’m wearing platforms!” Donnie shrieked in protest, even as he broke into a run behind him.

Leo whooped in reply, throwing himself over the railing of the nearest staircase, knowing his twin brother was right on his tail.

-----

“Come on! Harder!!! SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!” Raphael roared, pumping a fist in the air. “LET’S GO! GIVE IT TO ME!”

The gaggle of six-year-olds in the water in front of him, all clinging to the pool wall, giggled loudly in response to his over-the-top encouragement, kicking their legs even harder in a flurry of limbs and dousing him in chlorinated water.

“Whoa, whoa, okay! You gave it to me! I surrender!” Raph chuckled, holding his hands up to shield himself. “Alright, alright. Good job, team! You did great today. Okay, let’s wrap up—“

“Raph! RAPH!”

“What?”

“Raph, we gotta do the ferry!” Penelope, the loudest of his students, insisted, her face all screwed up with determination. The other four children nodded along fervently. “We can’t get out until we do ferry!”

“Oh, RIGHT. Ferry. Sorry, Raph almost forgot!” He chuckled, thunking his own forehead with the butt of his palm, feigning forgetfulness, as if he hadn’t always intended to do their usual wrap-up game. Class ended with a game of “Ferry” every time, without fail, especially given that he touted it as the ‘reward’ that they had to work for each week by following directions and working hard. He shifted slightly in the water, turning his back on the kids still clinging to the wall. “Okay— hop aboard”

The five elementary schoolers squealed in delight, launching themselves off the pool wall to clamber over the teenager instead, climbing over his broad shoulders and hanging off of his arms. Raph gave a soft little ‘oof,’ at the impact, though it was mostly for show, snorting softly in amusement as Penelope all but climbed on top of his head. Reminded him of Mikey.

“Okay— GO!” She shouted once she was sure all her cohorts were fully boarded, the whole group buzzing with excitement despite the fact that they did this every week. Raph gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, slowly setting off on their lap around the pool. In the shallower end, where they started, he didn’t even really have to swim at all— He could just walk with his body lowered enough in the water to give the illusion of swimming. Or, more precisely, the illusion of ‘ferrying.’

“Welcome everybody to Penelope’s Ferry Ride. I’m Penelope, the tour girl. Over there’s the Empire State Building.” Penelope narrated happily from her perch, gesturing to the bleachers. “And over there is the Statue of Liberty.” The pool noodles. “And over there’s the Milky Way. And that’s the, uhhh, the Big Bridge…”

“Wait, how long’s this ferry ride? Raph didn’t sign up for no world tour!” Raph protested teasingly, to which Penelope sharply shushed him before continuing her narration. The other children bubbled with laughter at her increasingly ridiculous tourist attractions and descriptions. Reminded him of Leo and Donnie.

Raph chuckled softly to himself as he moved into the deeper end of the pool, transitioning into an easy breaststroke to keep them all afloat on their way. It was, admittedly, a bit more difficult to swim with five kids on his back than it was on his own, but Raph was a strong swimmer. This was no problem. Besides, it’s not like he was in a rush or anything.

Honestly? This was his favorite part of these lessons. No worrying about everyone paying attention or being involved. No worries about anyone wandering off when he had them all on top of him and undoubtedly accounted for. No stressing about remembering the lesson plan or rules… He could just swim. He knew it sounded dumb, but sometimes, with all the kids piled on top of him like this, he felt like some sort of big plodding swamp creature, floating lazily down the river with the world on his back.

He took his time about it, but he eventually made his full lap around the pool, coming to a stop by the stairs and gently chasing the kids off of his shoulders.

“Alright, come on, squirts. Ferry ride’s over.”

“Nooo!” Penelope whined, clinging to his head. “One more lap! PLEASEEE!”

“Hey, come on, you know the rules! If you don’t listen to Raph, you don’t get a ferry ride next week!” He warned, slowly peeling her off of his back. “Go on. Get outta here.” He insisted, though fondly, smiling a bit as she huffed and scowled… But she got out anyway, joining the rest of the kids running to their parents, all with towels in waiting arms, listening to the children excitedly chatter about what they learned today.

Raph smiled just the tiniest bit. He remembered when they had been that small, taking swim classes here. He, Donnie, and Leo had all been thrilled to take to the water, adoring each and every lesson.

They all loved it— Except Mikey. He recalled listening to his littlest brother scream bloody murder as their father attempted to coax him into the water, trying everything from reason to bribes to threats of consequences.

“You don’t need to like to swim, Michelangelo. But you need to be able to.” He remembered his father saying. “I need to be sure you will be safe if you ever end up in the water by yourself.”

If anyone asked, he’d tell ‘em that he took the job just to make some extra pocket money. But, at least a little bit, that was kinda why. He liked the idea of helping to keep people safe. Even if it was just teaching kids how to doggy paddle.

Doing all the small talk at the end of the lessons with the parents was definitely his least favorite part, however, and he always found himself kind of stammering and stuttering his way through it. After some short, “Oh, yeah, she’s doin’ great!” and “For sure, perfect behavior’s!” tossed at some parents, he was, thankfully, able to duck away into the office, his own towel flung over his shoulders to try to avoid tracking water everywhere.

“All done?” The office receptionist, Jessica, chirped in her usual friendly demeanor, glancing over at the other as he entered.

“Just about. I just gotta clean up as soon as the kids are all gone and we’ll be done.” He replied, ruffling his hair dry.

“Did you remind the parents that we’re closed next week?”

Raph froze.

“… Uhhhh…”

Jessica sighed a bit, glancing over her shoulder to give him a look. “I reminded you before the lesson started!”

“I know! I just— Raph forgot, okay? I can only hold so much stuff in my brain at one time before stuff just starts to fall out! I was thinkin’ about swimming stuff!” He defended. “‘Sides, it was your job to remind me to remind them! So obviously we both dropped the ball.” Jessica didn’t look quite convinced, but Raph was pretty sure his logic was solid. “Can’t we just, like, put up some flyers and send out an email and all that junk?”

Rolling her eyes, Jessica turned back to her computer and began to type. “Yeah, yeah… Can’t really do flyers, but I’m working on that email.”

“Why not? Just put a sign up on the door.”

Jessica looked over at him again, raising a brow. “You haven’t heard about the paper shortage?”

Raph blinked slowly.

“… The what.”

“Yeah! It’s a whole thing. I dunno, I guess there are, like… Paper thieves or whatever robbing all the paper stores and stuff in the city? We haven’t been able to get any new orders in for a few weeks now.” She explained.

“Paper thieves?” He echoed, incredulous. “And they... steal paper.”

“Yeah. They steal paper.”

“Who the heck steals paper?”

“I dunno! I just saw it on the news.” Jessica shrugged. “I guess the police are working on it or whatever.”

“I guess.” Raph said, shrugging a bit, though he still couldn’t help but find the whole thing a bit amusing. I mean, come on. Paper thieves? It was only paper. -------

"Dadddd!" Mikey called as he swung his way into the door, kicking his shoes off into the general direction of the pile where shoes were typically kept, tossing his duffle bag to the side. He'd come back for it later and put it away, he swears. "I'M HOMMMEEE!"

It had been a long day, in between school, painting, and dance practice, so it was almost nine by the time he got home, but he didn't really mind. He liked being busy! If he didn't have stuff to do, it was just, like, all the energy would build up and up and up in all his limbs and his body and his chest like something sticky and hot about to boil over, condensation gathering at the top of his skull, and then he just went kinda crazy. That makes sense, right? He was pretty sure his brothers were kinda like that, too, so he figured it was probably mostly normal. He sometimes wondered if that was why their dad let them sign up for so many after-school activities. The only downside was the limited time leftover to tackle homework and personal projects. Walls weren’t just gonna paint themselves, after all!

"What's for dinner?" He shouted across the house, shucking his backup off and beginning to unpack, collecting his various textbooks and notepads.

"Oh, since you were not home, Michelangelo, I have had no choice but to cook for our family--"

"Dad."

"But do not worry, my son, I am making the most delicious meal--"

"Dad."

"Boiled liver and onions! You boys' favorite! With chopped earthworms, yum yum yum!"

"DAD! You're not funny!" Mikey yelled, even though there was laughter in his voice. Their dad did this bit every time, and he hated how it was always kinda funny.

"Pizza is on the table." His father called back, and Mikey let out an excited cheer.

"YEAH BABY! That's what I was hoping you'd say!" He shouted, hopping up to his feet and beelining it to the kitchen. His brothers had clearly already done a round, based on the empty boxes and missing slices, but he knew they wouldn't dare leave him without his fair share. That's youngest child privilege. They knew damn well that he’d cry at them.

"How was school today, my son?" Dad always asked about school first and everything else second, every time.

"Id'was gooh'." Mikey mumbled, in between the pizza slice already hanging out of his mouth, piling several more slices onto his plate. "We're readin' th' O'ssey--"

"Orange, I cannot understand anything you are saying."

Mikey spit the half-chewed pizza slice back out onto the plate, which earned a really fun look from Dad, and he grinned.

"Sorry! We're reading the Odyssey in English class, which is fine, I guess, but it's kinda a lot to get through, so we're translating it to, like, real human words, annnndddd we gotta do a group project presentation thing, and I like all the people in the group project but you KNOOWWW how group projects are." He reported, rapid-fire, giving a dramatic sigh. "Oh! And I got my Algebra test back and I got! A seventy-nine!"

"Oh! Very good, Mikey. I am glad your studying paid off." His father replied with a small smile, and Mikey beamed. "And how was dance?"

"Awesome! I killed it, as per use'." Mikey said proudly, puffing out his chest a bit. "Miss Vega said that I just gotta tighten up my turns and I'll be all ready to destroy the competition next weekend!"

"Excellent. Good job, Orange." His dad said with a chuckle, patting Mikey's shoulder before making his way back into the living room, no doubt to reunite his butt with his beloved reclining chair and put on some TV series that no one else in the family appreciated. Mikey grabbed three more slices of pizza while his dad’s back was turned, and then scampered off, heading deeper into the apartment.

Considering they lived in New York City, they lived in a pretty spacious abode. Mikey couldn't remember a time in his life when there wasn't lots of room to stretch out and run and jump around. He remembered, back when he was really little, some of the hallways being big and long enough to even echo-- though he sometimes wondered if that had just been his imagination. Some of the stuff they would make up back then was pretty wild. Their dad had bought this big old brownstone apartment way back when they moved into Brooklyn, buying up the entire building so that they had all four floors, plus the basement, to themselves. Mikey recalled, vaguely, all the renovations that had gone into it when they first moved to New York, adjusting the fixer-upper into something where four very active children could be raised without feeling cramped. The building was tall and skinny, slotted neatly in with the rest of the city, and Mikey had always loved that. This meant it they had the perfect hallways for running back and forth through, and there was a surplus of staircases for him to slide down or jump over. The hardwood floors were perfect for both Tokyo Drifting and dance practice. They each had gotten their own rooms as they grew as well, with himself and Raph on the second floor, Leo and Donnie on the third, and their father taking the master bedroom on the ground level.

But the best bit was the basement. Lovingly dubbed "The Lair," their dad had designated it the hub for childhood shenanigans, (and now, teenage activity,) from the get-go, all but sacrificing the space to his sons from the moment they moved in. The house was technically his, sure, but the basement was theirs, like, for real for real. Arcade games and consoles lived down here, hooked up to the big TV on the wall and surrounded by beat-up beanbags. Raph's weight-lifting equipment was in that corner there, and Donnie's bigger, more mechanical projects were over there by the stairs, (with the yellow tape and the "do not touch" signs.") This big wide open space here with the mirrors on the walls and the punching bags mounted on the ceiling was perfect for both martial arts, acrobatics, and dance practice, depending on which kind of matting they laid out. And, best of all, the Lair was the one place in the house where their dad had reluctantly conceded that, yes, Mikey. You may paint on the walls.

The Lair was typically the best bet for finding any of his brothers, especially if they weren’t holed up in their rooms, and Mikey did think about heading down there, too… But, as very tempting as it was to hang out with brothers first and do math worksheets later was, he was pretty sure he could get through his homework in, like, thirty minutes, tops, and just get it all out of the way. Plus, this way, he didn't have to worry about anyone else making any grabs for his dinner.

With this in mind, he tromped his way up the stairs, nudging his sticker-adorned door open and dumping all his stuff on his desk, immediately shoving the previously-abandoned pizza slice back into his mouth again. He flipped open his textbooks, switched his speakers on to fill the space with some chill lofi beats to study to, and nudged his desk lamp awake as he settled in to get to work.

His workload had been pretty light recently, with way fewer teachers than usual handing out paper worksheets and questionnaires to bring home, so it didn't take him very long to get through all the assignments and readings. (Also, lowkey, it was times like these that he was, like, wow. Thank god for Adderall.) He was nearly done with the last of his work when he suddenly paused.

Dang. Artistic inspiration was truly a cruel but wondrous mistress. Okay, homework later. He scrambled for his phone, rewinding the song playing over the speakers. Ooh, yeah, okay-- That bass? Oh, hell yeah, this was really good! He could absolutely see the movement in his mind's eye-- he could picture the way the color swooped along with the beat and brightened along with the melody. Oh-- and what if he added some black outlines? What was the title of this song again...? Maybe he should look up the artist. He wondered if this would be better as a direct homage to the artist, (maybe the title up on a wall, in big curved block letters, yellows popping along the edges to pull it into the foreground, and that red in the center to sink it in--) or if this should be a more narrative piece. It made him think of that one movie that they watched two weekends ago-- with the spy and the watering can factory?! And this one line, about the lightning, he could just see the way he could paint a figure to answer that directly. Was it too ambitious to do a zig-zag line of action? Oh, but if he had the leg out like that...

He flipped the page of his notebook, his pencil skritching feverishly on the sheet as he moved to put these thumbnails into reality while they were still ticking through his mind in a slideshow. He paused only to command Spotify to play the song on repeat, his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes narrowed. Ohmigosh, yes! This would be perfect. He couldn't believe he had never thought of this before. This song had been on his playlist for how long? He had just kind of been spacing out until now, but suddenly, he was so excited about this project.

And it would be the perfect excuse to use those metallic spray paints he's been hoarding! He practically vibrated with excitement, thumbing the paper with a grin. Oh, that would look amazing. Just a bold streak of shimmery color, bursting out from the composition, like an explosion, he could see it so clearly--

Half a thought later, the spiral-bound notebook in front of him burst into flames.

[ next ]

[bellysoupset]

Sick Wendy during the holidays + Caretaker Vince. Fever, stomach bug and some much deserved belly rubs.

-----------------------------------------

"Honey," Wendy whispered, shaking Vince's shoulder lightly and he groaned, rolling away from her as much as the passenger seat allowed. She bit down a smile, shaking him harder, "Vince, wake up."

"Are we here?" he groaned, not bothering to open his eyes and Wendy opened a fond smile, rubbing his back. Vince had these terrible dark circles lately that were worrying her, but he swore everything was fine, he just couldn't get a good night of sleep. She decided to let him sleep.

"No," she whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to his curls, "we're at the gas stop, I'll be right back. Do you want anything?"

Nothing but a soft snore answered her.

It wasn't a hole-in-the-wall type of gas station. It was part of a much bigger chain and had a restaurant area, as well as a trinkets store and a coffee shop.

They had had breakfast back home and Wendy was still feeling quite full from it, but that didn't stop her from buying a large caramel latte, as well as a box of cupcakes for Vince, then took her sweet time browsing through the trinkets.

Everything was overpriced, since this was the last store before reaching town and they knew their clients were people who had forgotten to buy gifts, especially during holiday season.

Wendy smiled as she saw a beautiful headband, all bejeweled and with turquoise stones. She put it inside her basket, continuing to go through the products, while slurping on the rest of her coffee. Wendy grimaced as her straw hit the bottom of her plastic cup. She hadn't realized how fast she chugged it.

Her stomach gurgled, complaining, and she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, standing up straight and going to pay for the headband, as well as other useless trinkets she thought were cute.

Vince was awake once she got back to the car. He had jumped out and was leaning against the metal, hands shoved in his jacket's pocket, cheeks kissed by the cold and all pink, the tips of his curls poking out from under his black beanie were twirling with the wind.

"What you got there?" he asked, once Wendy moved closer. She handed him the box of cupcakes, the one she had already forgotten about and felt vaguely queasy as he opened it to reveal the icing covered goodies.

"Ooh, they look great... I'm starving," he reached for one, before pausing and frowning, "dairy free? I don't wanna shit my pants during Christmas, honey."

Wendy wrinkled her nose at his crass language, shifting on her feet. Her stomach was starting to throb and continuing to gurgle, "it's just the 20th," she told him with an eyeroll, then before Vince could interrupt, "and yes, they're dairy free."

"Uhm," he didn't need to hear anything else, all but shoving one of the tiny cupcakes whole in his mouth, "eel'goo."

"Ew," Wendy grinned, putting the other bags in the backseat and circling him, "switch with me?"

Vince nodded, still eating as he circled the car and then planting the box on her lap as he fixed the car seat and put them back on the road.

"These are actually great," he said happily, fishing another one from the box, left hand drumming on the steering wheel, "thank you... Aren't you gonna eat, Wen?"

Wendy's stomach squeezed at the thought and she shook her head, fighting to keep a smile on, "not hungry..."

"Are you sure?" Vince glanced at her quickly, before looking back to the road, "they have a red velvet one..."

"No, I'm good," Wendy stressed, fighting the urge to shove the cupcakes off her lap. She could smell them and all that sweetness was making her already unsettled belly even more so.

Vince frowned and seemed like he wanted to argue, but he didn't say anything, only ate another cupcake and kept driving. Wendy was graceful, her stomach was souring quickly and her head started to throb with the sweet scent filling the car.

It was snowing, so it wasn't like she could open a window and she mentally cursed, leaning back on her seat and closing her eyes, breathing through her mouth. Maybe she was just carsick, she could fight through it.

Her mouth felt sticky and she licked at her dry lips, gulping down and bouncing one of her legs anxiously, feeling the latte churn in her belly. In the cramped space of the car, she was sure Vince could hear all the little noises her stomach was making and Wendy felt terribly embarrassed on top of the nausea, trapped like a caged animal and wanting to put as much distance between them.

Vince's freezing hand upon her forehead startled her so much Wendy gasped and coughed, rushing to sit up straight.

"What-"

"You don't look so well, honey," he had slowed down and seemed to be looking for a spot to pull over, much to her dismay. The cupcake box had been closed and Wendy glanced around in search of it, finding it sitting in the backseat.

"I'm fine, I'm just..." there was cold sweat gluing her clothes to her back and Wendy groaned, squirming on her seat, "don't laugh," she said, wrapping an arm around her stomach and pushing his hand away from her face, "I drank a latte back at the stop and it's not sitting well."

"Oh," Vince sounded relieved, which only made her want to curl up more. Wendy pressed herself to the door, rocking her body slightly to keep her mind off the waves of queasiness and the pressure in the back of her throat, "why didn't you just say something, hon? Do you want me to pull over?"

"Nu-uh," Wendy shook her head, then brought up a hand to her mouth and muffled a little sick, airy burp, "no, I just want to get to Doveport as soon as possible..."

"We're fifteen minutes out," Vince planted a hand on the middle of her back, switching his attention back to the road, "think you can handle it?"

"God, stop-" Wendy groaned, leaning further in and breathing through her mouth, "stop babying me, it's my fault I feel like shit, Vince. I shouldn't have drank a freaking gas station caramel mocha."

Just the thought of it made her spine curl and Wendy gulped down as she could taste the sweetness all over again. She shuddered, again, goosebumps covering her skin.

"Don't be silly," Vince reached in the cupholder between them, passing her a water bottle, "it's not your fault, honey."

"Uhm..." the water was refreshing, but it landed on her stomach like a brick, immediately wanting out. Wendy's rushed to cup her mouth as her body betrayed her and yet another little burp rushed out, this one morphing in a gag at the end. She swallowed convulsively the sweet saliva pooling in her mouth, her throat seeming to refuse her.

"...Just a second..." she heard Vince say in the background and then the car came to a stop on the side of the road and he reached over her, pushing her door open when Wendy didn't move. She let out a groan, shaking her head, still in denial.

"Nooo..."

"I don't think you get a say on that, honey," Vin said sympathetically, knuckles brushing her cheeks, "c'mon, better out than in."

Her belly let out a nasty growl, a nauseating string of burbles rolling around and Wendy whimpered, giving in and turning on seat to hang out of the door.

She tugged on the ends of her pink scarf, tugging it off her neck and balling it up in one hand, the one squeezing the doorway. Her stomach turned once more and Wendy spat on the grey snow on the side of the road, knowing there was no chance to swallow it back down and not throw up.

Vince's hand was still in the middle of her back, rubbing soothing circles and she wanted to tell him to stop touching her, not when she was feeling this gross and embarrassed... Wendy let out a sick burp and whined, gulping the acid in the back of her throat.

"Let it up, honey, you'll feel better," Vince thumped her back lightly and she nearly snapped at him, when the motion only made her feel worse. She couldn't swallow it back down like this, as he forced up another belch... And then she puked a gush of beige vomit all over the snow.

Wendy coughed, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to spit the horrible taste in her mouth, without setting off another round. Her nausea didn't lessen, on the contrary, it only seemed to grow and grow... She nearly fell off the car with the strength of the next heave, vomiting a much larger amount as her belly squeezed with a cramp.

Vince had moved on his seat, so he could gently hold the pieces of hair away from her mouth with one hand, the other one planted on her shoulder to stop Wendy from taking a dive at the disgusting side of the road, and she let out a whimper at the realization he could see exactly what she could see, which was quite the gruesome sight.

"Stop- Stop touching me..." Wendy whined, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and falling back against her seat, wrapping one arm around her stomach. She was wearing a graphic sweater, as well as a thick baby blue skirt, with a belt around her middle. When they left home, the belt had been loose, but right now it felt like it was squeezing her in half.

However, just the idea of undoing it was too humiliating. Wendy gulped down nervously, shuddering again and wiping the little tears clinging to her lashes. She avoided Vin's worried gaze and his outstretched hand, holding the plastic bottle of water. Her fingers came back brushed with black and Wendy groaned again, imagining just how gross she looked, with her mascara all smeared.

"I'm so sorry," she sighed, wiping at her mouth and her eyes again, trying to regain a scrap of composure, "I'm sorry, this was disgusting, I just-"

"Oh, can it, Wen," Vince scoffed, cupping her face. His hands were freezing and they felt lovely against her cheeks, even if they made her shiver. Wendy whined, closing her eyes as her stomach continued to flip, not feeling one bit settled, although it was much emptier, "did getting that out of your system help?"

She nodded, lying, and Vince let out a huff, suddenly pressing a kiss to her brow, "I don't know if I believe it, you're the color of the snow."

Wendy gagged at the thought, "covered in sick and disgusting?"

"White," Vince corrected her with a chuckle, reaching over her to slam the door shut, "white like a bunny," he teased lightly, kissing her temple again, "take a minute, okay? We're not in a rush."

"We sort of are, though," Wendy sighed, but couldn't help but lean back on her seat with relief. Her stomach was still feeling horrible, churning ominously and she felt far from done. To makes matters worse, she was covered in sweat and couldn't seem to stop shaking, "I feel like crap."

"I'm sorry, honey," Vince rubbed her arm, then reached on the side of her seat, lowering it a little bit, "we're really almost home, just try and breathe, okay?"

That wasn't as reassuring as he thought it was. Home for Vince, sure, but to her it meant a much larger audience witnessing as she made a fool of herself, her stomach hellbent on emptying itself from the caramel latte and Wendy was terrified her intestines would join her body's riot against her. She wanted her own apartment, her own bed and bathroom and no audience.

Still, she didn't say it out loud, and true to Vin's words, not even 10 minutes later they were entering his street. Wendy lowered the mirror to get a look at herself, then cringed as she saw the smudged mascara around her eyes, and how pale she was. She quickly wiped the black vestiges away, grabbing the water bottle and taking some sips, swishing the water around to get rid of the horrible taste in her mouth and the puke breath. It was the best she could do.

The water had been a horrible idea, it added to the churning in her tummy, making her feel even more nauseous. She felt overly full and dizzy, but right now was not the time.

The front door opened and Vince's mom rushed out to pull her 6'4 baby into a hug, squealing when he pulled her off her feet. It was a heart warming scene and Wendy would've basked in it, wasn't it for the fact she could feel her belly squeezing again, her mouth watering.

"You too, c'mere," Ma said, tugging Wendy into a hug, "darling, I missed you... What's wrong?"

Wendy wanted to cry. She had hoped she could simply lie her way through and go up to Vin's room to curl up in his bathroom and die, but clearly his mother had other ideas. The woman cupped her cheeks, then touched her forehead, a wrinkle appearing between her brows, a frown forming. Ma looked every little bit like her son when she glared like that.

"I'm fine-"

"Mamma, she's alright," Vince interjected, noticing his girlfriend's pale face and weak, strained voice, "carsickness, that's all."

Carsickness was much less embarrassing than I-drank-a-fucking-side-of-the-road-latte-because-i'm-stupid-and-have-no-self-restraint, Wendy thought sourly, wincing.

Ma let out a little unhappy noise, "you poor thing," she pulled back, patting Wendy's arm, "come inside, lie down for a bit. I'll get you a ginger ale."

She mumbled another string of words, but that Wendy couldn't piece together since it was in italian. She hoped it was just amiable cooing, but Wendy's swirling thoughts couldn't help but feel like she was being judged.

Her parents would be judging the shit out of Vince if it was the other way around, the talking behind his back would simply never stop. It was hard to believe in Ma's genuine affection as she pushed Wendy inside the house and towards the couch, telling her to sit down and lean back her head.

"You'll feel alright in un attimo," the woman cooed, while Vince brought in the bags. He flashed Wendy a smile, crossing the living room to crouch in front of the couch.

"Sorry, mom's a lot," he whispered, pushing a strand of hair away from Wendy's eyes, "how's your belly?"

"I wanna die, Vince," Wendy answered him, her voice hoarse from the previous puking, "I'm sorry, this was so stupid- I don't know where my mind was."

Vince rolled his eyes, leaning in to kiss her forehead, "whatever do you mean, honey?" he cupped her face, thumb on her chin, "you couldn't possibly have guessed you'd get sick."

"It was gas station food, I definitely could have not eaten that," Wendy scoffed, wrapping an arm around her stomach as the thought made her all the more queasy. She hated that she could still just taste it.

Across the room there was a noise and then Livia rushed in, bundled up in a snow coat, grinning the whole way.

"VINNY!" She squealed, throwing herself over her brother with her whole body, causing him to almost fall on his back. He opened a big smile, kissing her cheek and moving his arms to Liv was sitting on his knee, her arms wrapped around his neck.

The little girl finally saw Wendy, still smiling as she said, "Hi principessa," she jumped from Vin's lap to press a kiss to Wendy's cheek, before frowning, "why are you sad?"

"Wendy's sick, bambi, leave her alone," Vince pulled his sister back, grabbing the little kid and throwing her over his shoulder, then turning to Wendy, "I'm gonna get you some water, do you think pepto would help?"

Wendy shrugged, she didn't feel like she could hold the medicine down, but it was worth a try. Vin let out a little sad, sympathetic sigh, before whispering, "be right back."

She let out a groan once he was out of sight, curling up on the couch and trying to figure if she could get away with leaving the living room or if it'd be too rude. Her stomach was sloshing uncomfortably and she still couldn't stop shivering.

"Here," Sophia's voice startled her and Wendy glanced up from her curled up position, in time to see Vince's cranky teenager sister drape a blanket over her.

It made her heart sink and Wendy opened a strained smile, "thank you..." she said, her voice all raspy. Sophia blushed, shrugging.

"Do you need anything else?" she reminded Wendy of Jonah and Wendy smiled at the thought, pulling the blankets tighter around her. She wanted Vince, but he had only been gone for ten minutes, so it was too pathetic to say out loud.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you, Soph."

Still Sophia hung around, uneasily shifting her weight from foot to foot, clearly wanting to do more but unsure of what. She was thankfully interrupted by Vince coming back, a thermos in one of his hands, as well as a ceramic mug held only by his pinky around the handle, the little bottle of pepto bismol sitting inside of it.

"Mamma made some peppermint tea, honey," Vince said, messing Sophia's hair as he circled around her to get to the couch and causing his sister to hiss and shove his back.

Wendy groaned at the prospect of drinking anything, especially something sweet, when her stomach already felt like it was crawling up her throat. She turned on the couch, pressing her lips tightly closed and breathing deeply through her nose, looking at the ceiling.

"I know you don't wanna drink anything right now, but this could help," Vince said, sitting on the ground in front of her. Even sitting down a level lower than her, he was still taller. Wendy sighed, pulling the ends of the blanket and shaking her head.

"I don't... I don't think so, Vin..."

He pouted, then leaned in to push a stray hair away from her eyes and his brows dipped into a frown, "oh Wen, you're really warm..."

She leaned forward, planting her forehead to his hand and still taking measured breaths, as her stomach started to feel more and more uneasy, "that..." her mouth pooled with overly sweet spit and Wendy gulped it down, "that'd-explaininnit..." she slurred, the words barely forming. Her face felt numb.

"Vin..." Wendy heard Sophia saying, but she was far too nauseous to pay any attention. It felt like the couch was swaying... Her throat constricted as if she couldn't breathe and up came another wave of vomit.

This time it was much chunkier and harder to get up and Wendy was left gasping for air and crying when she finished off the first round, her stomach still flipping inside of her, letting out a little acrid burp. She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes, sure she had just thrown up all over her boyfriend's parent's living room, probably ruining his mom's rug.

"I'm-" Wendy hiccupped, her head throbbing in the same rhythm as her belly churned, "fuck, i'm so-sorry..." there were tears streaming down her face and Wendy started to openly cry as she felt Vince shush her, pulling her closer to him. Her forehead met his chest or his tummy, she wasn't sure, she only knew she could smell the fabric softener in his hoodie and that it was soft and inviting... And she was probably ruining it with tears and drool.

"Soph, potresti prendere il...?"

"Sí, sí-"

Whatever Vince said to his sister, suddenly Wendy was no longer half covered by the blanket and his arms were wrapping around her, one under her legs, the other around her back, lifting her up.

"No-" Wendy groaned, as he moved so her head could rest on his shoulder, "no, Vin, I'm-" her belly contracted painfully and Wendy muffled a burp against his chest, gasping for air, "stooop..."

"Sorry, doll," Vince whispered back, his voice rough with concern. Wendy groaned louder at the movement of him carrying her, probably up the stairs judging by the up and down that was making her head spin.

"I'm gonna... Vince, wait-" Wendy complained weakly, trying to warn him she was about to be sick again. He sped up, but didn't show any other sign of having heard her and Wen let out a frustrated noise, trying to pull back from his hold.

"No, hon, don't do that," Vince said softly and then hit a light switch and Wendy realized they had just entered his bathroom. It was just a cramped and messy as she remembered it.

He put her down gently in front of the sink and Wendy let out a sob as she noticed a wet dark patch on his hoodie, already wiped at, "oh no-"

"It's alright," Vince tugged his sweater off, balling it up and throwing it under the sink, closing the distance between them so he could pull her hair into a low ponytail.

"Did I..." She leaned heavily over the sink, squeezing her eyes shut against the mounting nausea, "did I puke on your mom's couch...?"

"No, just my lap," Vince teased her lightly, planting a kiss to her temple, and Wendy groaned, letting out a tiny airy burp.

"It's not funny," she scoffed, voice thick with tears and wanting for the ground to open up. She caught Vin rolling his eyes on the mirror.

"Wendy, you're sick, sweetheart. My family adores you, please don't worry about this..." he rubbed her back, "can you get in the shower? I think your fever is up..."

"Uhm," Wendy folded in half, pressing her forehead to the cold sink and shivering violently, "maybe... Do you- Can you give me some space? Please?"

Her belly was still a mess and she had never felt so mortified before, but she knew she'd feel even worse just stripping in front of him. Vince let out a little unhappy noise, his hand still planted in the middle of her back.

"I can... But I'm gonna be right outside, okay? And please don't lock the door."

"Okay," she sniffled, tearing up, "can you get me some clean clothes, please?" Her belt was still squeezing the hell out of her upset tummy and her sweater and skirt felt like they were glued to her sweat covered body. Vince nodded, kissing the top of her head.

"Of course, doll. I'll get you something comfy. You can use my towel, I'll get another one later."

"Thank you," she waited for him to step out and then Wendy's flimsy hold on her self control all but crumbled. New tears sprung up and she immediately started stripping, despite feeling sluggish and awful. The sensation of the clothes was constricting and she especially hated it rubbing on her belly, reminding her how bloated she was.

The hot water took a second to heat up and Wendy shivered violently hugging herself and sitting on the closed toilet in just her panties. Her belly was sore as fuck and she could still hear it let out all sorts of noises, bubbles shifting under her hand.

The warm shower did wonders to how gross she was feeling and relaxed the muscles of her back, but did absolutely nothing to the woozy feeling, except make it worse. She stumbled slightly, pressing her forehead to the cold tiles and letting the hot water run down her back, trying to find any strength to shut it off and walk out.

Instead, her legs were feeling more and more like jelly. Wendy breathed through her mouth as the bathroom spun around her and slowly slid down to a crouched down position, doing her best to not fall on her ass.

Her stomach flipped and she gagged, barely having to heave for more frothy yellow bile to spill out of her and get washed away by the water. There was a knock on the door, Vince's muffled voice calling out her name.

Wendy let out a groan, washing her mouth with shaky hands and tried to get up, only to find out that she couldn't. Instead she sat on her ass and curled up her knees, hoping Vin would overlook her request for privacy and enter the bathroom, because she was seeing a whole new collection of black dots and stars.

She didn't hear the door opening, but she did hear Vince's loud voice exclaim "WENDY!" and then she felt water hitting her face... And next she woke up she was freezing cold.

Wendy didn't think she had been out for more than a couple minutes, because Vin hadn't moved her. He had shut off the water and she was curled up in his arms, shivering violently and he was talking in rapid fire italian-english with someone...

The thought that she was naked in front of his family was enough to have Wendy waking up from any slumber. She whined and tried to move, only to feel Vince's arms squeeze around her, keeping her put. He let out a relieved sigh, "thank fucking God, Wendy..." and only then did she realize he had wrapped her up in a bathing robe.

Ma Monacelli was standing in the doorway, with a phone pressed to her cheek and Wendy dizzily blinked, trying to get a hold of the situation. She couldn't make sense of what his mom was saying and it took her a minute to realize it wasn't in english.

"What... What's your mom..." Wendy grumbled, squirming again. Vince helped her sit up slightly against him, his hands never leaving her once. She realized his curls were glued to the side of his face and his cheeks were blazing red and he was shivering too, water clinging to his lashes... He had gotten in the shower with her.

"She's talking with the doctor. It's better if you don't move yet or you'll get lightheaded," he rubbed her back quickly, in order to produce warmth and Wendy groaned, curling up further.

"No, don't- I don't need a doctor," she whined, shaking her head, "really, I just need to go to bed... It was just- Just the hot water..."

Ma lowered the phone, looking almost angry, "no, we're calling Dr. Bianchi, she's not well."

Wendy felt a small flare of annoyance. She was right there.

Vince probably sensed it, because he interrupted his mother's next words, by saying in a calm voice that didn't belong him, "mamma, we're crowding her. Let me just get Wendy settled in bed and we can discuss a doctor."

Magda crossed her arms, face all scrunched up as if she wanted to argue, "I'm worried, you can't just-"

"Ma," Vince said in a steady, rougher voice that Wendy had never heard him use with his mom. The woman sighed, before nodding and stepping out of the bathroom. She left the door open, but Wen could clearly hear as she shut the bedroom door, having fully left the suite.

"I'm sorry," Wendy whispered, "I didn't mean to make you fight your mom..."

"She'll live," Vince rolled his eyes, pushing the wet hair away from her face, "how are you? Can we move to the bedroom?"

"Dizzy," she answered him honestly, shuddering from cold, "freezing."

"Figures," Vince snorted and Wendy could hear the wind howling outside, probably it had started to snow again, "and your stomach?"

"Still feels really sick," she admitted, "but empty."

"I'm gonna count that as a win," Vince's shoulders dropped and she could clearly see how worried he was, the deep concern lines all over his face, "I'm gonna get you up, okay?"

Very slowly they made their track back to his room and Vince promptly sprung into action as soon as Wendy was sitting on his bed. He grabbed a matching set of his old hoodies in the wardrobe, instead of the suitcase, and crouched down before her.

"What... Why....?" Wendy frowned, confused and trying to understand what he was doing through the brain fog caused by the fever, the headache and the nausea. Vin tapped her knee lightly, sliding his large pants over her legs.

"It's warmer than your stuff," he explained, "and won't squeeze your tummy. Besides, if you end up being sick on it, it's no big deal, these are super old and don't fit me anymore."

"Uhm..." Wendy felt boneless as he removed the bathrobe and slide the hoodie over her head, "can you cuddle me...? I don't want you to get this, but I-"

"Honey," Vince chuckled slightly, pressing a kiss on the corner of her mouth, then over her lips, "we're so past that, don't worry about it. Besides, I never get sick."

"That's a lie," Wendy scoffed, but she couldn't fight the warm sensation that spread all over her as Vince pushed her against the pillows and tugged on the blankets so it was draped over her.

"Just let me change," he whispered, the moved around again. Wendy was too tired to follow him with her eyes, she felt weak and still disgusting, so instead she closed her eyes and hoped Vince would be back soon enough.

She woke up with the bed moving. Now she was warm, for the first time in hours, so warm she was sweating. Wendy could tell she was lying against Vince, because while his tummy was soft, it was much sturdier than the pillow that had been under her head previously. His fingers were running through her hair and he was speaking in a soft voice.

Too soft.

"You can't be here, bambi, you'll get sick too," he was whispering and Wendy forced her eyes open, noticing Livia was sitting on the foot of the bed, looking terribly worried. She was clad in a footie pajama, holding a stuffed bear to her lap, her little hand tracing over Wendy's.

"I don't care," Liv pouted, "is Wendy dying?"

"No," Vince scoffed, stroking Wendy's cheek, still unaware she was awake, "it's just a tummy bug, she'll be fine in a couple of days."

"Are you sure?" Liv squinted at him, then studied Wendy's face. Wen was thankful for the dark room, she wasn't ready to be awake just yet.

"Yes, Liv," Vince smiled, then moved slightly on the bed, so he could slide out from under Wen, "c'mon, let's go to bed, okay?"

He picked up Livia and she whined, but threw her arms around his neck, complaining as he carried her out of the room.

Once more alone, Wendy rolled on the bed, so she was flat on her back. Her muscles were all aching and her belly specifically was hurting, as if she had done a bunch of crunches, as well as if it was still stuffed with food, which she knew it wasn't.

She pushed herself up against the pillows, letting out a sigh of relief as she realized Vince had left the thermos and a bottle of water sitting on the bedside table, as well as there was a trashcan on the ground, within her reach.

Wendy took a tentative gulp of water and when that didn't immediately upset her belly, she took a larger one. It sat like a brick in her belly and she still felt terribly queasy, but at least it didn't immediately want out.

"Hey," Vince whispered, entering the room again, "you're awake."

"Just barely," Wendy smiled, kicking the blankets so he could join her. Vince didn't come cuddle her, instead he grabbed a thermometer sitting right next to the water bottle and handed it to her.

"Just for my peace of mind," Vince said, planting a hand on her forehead, "but you're not that warm anymore, I think it broke while you slept."

"Uhm," Wendy leaned on his touch, "is your mom pissed at me....?"

"Pissed at you? She was so worried she was considering calling 911, doll, she is not pissed at you. She made dad go to the store, did you know they sell gatorade in six packs?"

Wendy's cheeks caught on fire, "oh no... I really didn't mean to-"

"Wen," Vince rolled his eyes, pushing her mouth shut so the thermometer could get a good reading, "we all love you, you're not a bother. We're just worried."

"Uhm," Wendy sighed, waiting until the little device beeped. A low grade fever, but not that high. Vince's shoulders dropped in visible relief and he leaned forward, his forehead meeting her lap.

"You worried the shit out of me, Wendy."

"I'm so-"

"No, stop, stop," he glared at her, pushing her back against the pillows, "stop apologizing, okay? Just let me take care of you."

"You really shouldn't have to, it's Christmas..."

"You don't even celebrate Christmas," he chuckled, kissing her cheek and then moving on the bed, kicking off hsi flip flops so he could get closer to her, "can I rub your belly?"

Wendy's cheeks caught on fire and she awkwardly bit her lip, unsure if she wanted him to touch it or not. The idea of a soothing belly rub sounded amazing, but she still felt so gross and so... So disgusting. She didn't want Vin to come to this realization too...

"You think too much," he whispered, pushing her hoodie up slightly. His hands were really warm and he rubbed them together before planting them on Wendy's bloated, upset tummy.

The organ let out a growl and Wendy pressed her hands to her face, her cheeks aflame, but still she didn't push him back and Vince kept at it. He rubbed it in steady, slow circles and caused her to let out a little burp.

Vin glanced up, worried, but Wendy only shook her head as if to say she was fine. He smiled, then leaned in and planted a kiss on her belly, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Not that much better," Wendy said, her heart stuttering as she felt him plant a bunch of little, fluttery kisses all over her tummy. Vince chuckled, his laugh vibrating against her skin.

"No? How can I help?"

Wendy pressed her knuckles to her mouth, biting down a delighted smile at his teasing tone, "don't stop."

"Not planning on it, honey."

[ladylooch]

Omg it’s okay!!! My request was a smut with Nico and she has a breeding kink after playing with timo and Emma’s kid. And he sucks her tits a LOT. 🫠 and while they’re fucking he dirty talks about having a baby

-🌸 anon

A/N: Message me when you see what I did ☠️ Everyone say thank you 🌸 for smutty Nico and Lexi making our baby, Lucie.

Word Count: 2.0k

From this lil AU.

I am not sure how much longer I can take this. 

Our nephew, Lio, is in love with Nico today. He wants nothing to do with either of his parents. The result of Nico carting this baby everywhere is my fertile ovaries bouncing in my body. They ache for Nico until it spreads like consuming wildfire across my skin, burying deep into my bones. The only cure is getting railed.

I push out a heavy breath, catching Emma’s attention.

“You good? You seem like you’re anxious.”

“I- uh.. Yeah. Your brother with Lio is really cute.” Emma shields her eyes, looking to the pool where Nico and Timo supervise Lio’s swim time. He’s wearing little floaties and a floppy, fish bucket hat. Nico is holding him outwards, trolling him through the water as he laughs. 

“Yeah that is precious.” Emma whines. “If I didn’t remember labor so distinctly, I might pull the plug and beg for another.” She shrugs, going back to her magazine.

Pulling the birth control plug would be so easy for me right now. I just wouldn’t start my new pack. We could dive right into bed together and he could… My mind gets lost in the fantasy of him and I working together for something so special in our fancy hotel room. Nico has been talking about babies more and more the last few weeks. We have been spending so much time with Timo, Emma, and Lio. The endless baby snuggles and giggles have turned into a craving for us both. Our apartment feels too quiet. Our life has something missing. But babies are a big change. And neither of us has had the courage to spit it out loud yet.

Lio’s crying pulls me out of my daydream. The three boys walk towards us. The upset baby reaches out for his mom with big, crocodile tears, trying to wiggle from Nico’s grasp.

“Oh sweet boy. Come here. Are you tired?” Emma pulls her son into her chest, stroking at his cheek as she gets him ready to nurse. Timo tosses a thin blanket onto the two of them and sits beside Emma on her chaise.

“He’s really tired. He keeps getting water in his eyes from rubbing his fists into them.”

“Yeah, we should go back to the room for a bit.”

“Honestly, I could use a nap too. This kid tired me out being his chauffeur all day.” Nico tells us, yawning at the end.

“He loves you so much.” Emma smiles at her little brother. “You’re daddy material for sure.” Her distinct wink at me has my lips pursing with a giggle.

We all head towards the bank of elevators. Nico asks if I want to grab a drink at the bar, but I shake my head. I am also sleepy from laying in the sun doing absolutely nothing, and laying with him in bed sounds like pure perfection. He is relieved when I say no. Inside our room, I run to the bed, jumping under the covers as Nico puts our pool stuff to the side. I snuggle in deep on his pillow. He chuckles, pushing me over so he can climb in.

“I wanna share this with you.” It’s a California King and fairly feasible. He settles on the other side, turned my way so we can look at each other. I think about telling him my desires from the pool, but his black lashes are battling sleep and it’s not the time.

Nico wakes me up an hour later with a gentle squeeze of my butt. Then, his lips begin to pepper kisses along my cheeks. 

“Hey, Emma just called. They are ready to head back down. Do you want to go or stay here?”

“Let’s go.” I nod, stretching out. I feel recharged from my nap and ready for another margarita. 

Nico heads to the bathroom then comes out, double checking the pool bags.

“Oh, Lio’s hat is with us.” He picks it up, showing me the floppy bucket hat that was responsible for the ovary bouncing. “I can’t wait to buy our kids cute stuff like this. I mean, come on.” He chuckles, tossing it to me. I catch it, tracing an orange fish with googly eyes. My eyes go back to his as he ruffles around in the bags some more, checking the sunscreen supply. He does a double take when he sees the look in my eyes.

“Lex?”

“Neeks, I want you to get me pregnant. I want your baby in me like now.” The words fly out of my mouth suddenly. I clasp my hand over my mouth in shock. Then force myself to continue because the words touched air and I have an ache that will not let me breathe if he doesn’t soothe it. “I want our babies to grow up with Em and Timo’s kids. Let’s just have a whole parade of them together.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m so serious. Drop the bags and put a baby in me.” 

With no hesitation, Nico empties his hands. He rushes across the room to me, lifting me up into his arms as we aggressively grope at each other. Tongues lap at each other as Lio’s fish hat falls to the ground at our feet.

“Please. Please.” I beg him again. “Watching you with Lio. It’s… done something to me. My brain chemistry is fucked. I don’t know.”

“Damn, Lex.” He moans. “This is so hot.” He groans back as I rub against him, squeezing him over his swim suit. “Are you sure? I need you to be so sure.”

“I am, babe. Please.”

“God, say ‘please put a baby in me’.”

“Please.” I whine earnestly. “Put your baby in me. Wanna make you a daddy, Neeks.”

Nico grunts out in earnest, then puts me on the edge of the bed. He reaches for my bikini bottoms, pulling them off and tossing them behind him. They land on the corner of the TV. I laugh, then suck in a surprised gasp as Nico strokes a finger through my slick flesh.

“Soaked. Baby.” He moans. “Are you off the pill?”

“Um, well, I was supposed to start today but I haven’t taken it.” 

“So this is… no birth control at all?”

“Yeah.” 

“Fuck.” He moans, then pulls himself out of his blue swim trunks. He is rigid, veins protruding against the taut skin. His fingers stroke his hard length, oozing pre-cum out of his head. I untie the white cover up for him. He leans down, stroking himself still while sucking on my nipple through my bikini top. His fingers brush my clit, rubbing gracious circles while I press against his hand.

“Want you inside of me.” I moan, tangling my fingers through his locks as he sucks my other nipple. His mouth opens wider, sucking so much of my flesh into his mouth until his teeth tighten into a gentle bite. My ohmygod is lost in the air of the room, stifled out by the lack of oxygen in my lungs from Nico’s touch. I reach my hand down, encircling his throbbing cock with him and stroking in rhythm together. 

“Gonna cum on your stomach if we keep going.” He says, pulling away from my grasp to run his engorged head along my clit.

“We can’t have that. Need you to cum inside of me.”

“Lex, I did not think you had this in you.” He chuckles, poising at my entrance as he rests one hand on the bed by my head. 

“Look what made me into, Nico Hischier.”

“I’m so lucky.” He says against my lips as he beings to move inside of me. The intensity of his entrance is dulled by the sweetness of his lips on mine. He consumes my moans. “Gonna have the best mama for my baby.” I reach for the hem of his shirt, shoving it up his abdomen and trying to get it off his head. 

“Help.” I am desperate to touch his bare skin. He pauses inside of me, taking his shirt off and knocking his hat off too. I bite my lip as he comes down to kiss me again. His hand shoves my bikini top up my breasts to expose them. 

“I love your tits. I hope they get bigger.” 

“They will.” I moan. “And then you can’t have them.”

“Fuck. That’s gonna be tough.” He works himself deeper into me, watching my face for my head to do… that. It falls to the side as my face scrunches up in need. “Need your help to cum, sweets.”

“Don’t stop…” I whisper as my hand falls to my clit, rubbing in sync with his thrusting. “Nico.”

“I love you, baby. Come for me.”

His words make the ache explode into white hot heat in my core. My legs shake against his sides where he has my knees pressed back. His hands come up, shoving my thighs into my stomach as he fucks himself deep. I reach down, gripping his shaft and stroking forward as he releases cum inside of me. Nico squeeze my hand as we pull more out of him, bucking his hips with a wide open, gasping mouth. He exhales sharply, gently easing out, still dribbling a bit from his tip.

“I love you too.” I finally say, panting in unison with him as my hands grip both his forearms. His hands hold my hips in place as he works towards recover.

Nico crawls onto the bed with me, laying beside me as his right hand covers my belly. I hold his hand there, all three of them rising and falling with my fast breathing. We stare at the ceiling together. Nico’s thumb begins to trace over my skin. I feel emotional tears pinching at my eyes. Nico and I are trying. This is real. We are going to make a baby. Our baby.

“I want this with you so bad, Neeks. That wasn’t just talk.”

“I know. I do too.” He assures, rolling to his side and kissing my shoulder. I turn my face to him so he can kiss my lips. “We should do that a few more times.”

“Yeah. Like at least nine before we leave.” Nico grins.

“Let’s make it 12 for lucky 13 total.” I laugh as he strokes his fingers along my belly again. “I’m going to spoil you.” 

“You already do.”

“Get ready. It’s going to be even more.”

Nico’s phone begins to ring in the pool bag. He tucks himself back into his shorts, then goes to grab it.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Timo’s voice comes through the speaker. Nico makes eye contact with me and we share a silent laugh. 

“Sorry, we fell back asleep.”

“Hurry up, Lio is crabby because he wants Uncle Ni snuggles.” 

“Okay. Five minutes. We’ll be back at the pool.”

He clicks the end button, stuffing his phone into his swim trunks.  

“Uncle Ni gonna be Daddy Ni.” I grin, grabbing my swimsuit bottoms from the TV corner and sliding them on. Nico closes his eyes, shoulders drawn down while his hands go to cover his lap. “Did daddy get you?”

“Yeah.”

“Nico Hischier, my baby daddy.” I sing-song as I dance across the room to him. He pulls me into his arms as I go on my tip toes to kiss him. He helps me retie my bathing suit top on and close my cover up. His fingers splay out on my ribs as he looks down at me when we are done re-dressing together. 

“Today is another moment in my life I couldn’t imagine not having you a part of.” I soften, melting into his body at his sweet words. “No one else I want to do this with but you.”

Life with Nico is an unbelievable dream. Nobody wake me.

[doodlebat33]

Hey can you do a netflix monkey king x reader? like where it’s the idea that opposites attract? Like since monkey king is very hesitant to show his feelings or express them. The reader expresses their feelings a lot and likes to sort things out by talking to each other and solving the problem. just feel like Monkey king didn’t like it at first it. But then he does later on as he gets to know us. I loved your fic about Netflix monkey king x reader. That made me twirl my hair and kick my feet❤️❤️❤️🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 thank you for feeding my hyperfixation whatever it’s called🙏🏼🙏🏼

Absolutely yes and thank you!

I think I've got a pretty good scenario depicting this in short or really how it would begin

Going to be writing this and any Y/n interactions in a more modern au/sort of Isekai take (Monkey King wakes up from mediation in a completely new cave and y/n finds him there and takes him home) Mainly because I am a sucker for the fish-out-of-water trope, that's the good stuff!

Y/n is sitting on large bean bag in their room, watching some videos on their phone. Monkey King walks in he looks to them

"Whatcha doin?"

Y/n looks up at him and says they're just watching some stuff and he's welcome to watch with them if he'd like. He shrugs

"Nah I'll pass."

Monkey King sits on the very very edge of the bean bag, tending to stick and giving it a few twirls. He looks over to Y/n's phone out of curiosity. Y/n looks over to him, and they ask him why he is sitting so far away from them. Monkey King rolls his eyes,

"I'm just getting some buffs outta stick. Don't wanna intrude on, whatever it is you're doing."

Y/n says that they don't bite and he can sit closer if he wants to. Monkey King huffs a bit and reluctantly sits a little bit closer. As time goes on, he puts Stick down and inches closer and closer in order to see what y/n is watching. Soon enough, and he hardly even notices it, he gets so close to the point that his head is practically resting on y/n's shoulder. Y/n chuckles a bit and playfully nuzzles his face. Monkey King recoils and gives y/n a rather perturbed expression.

"OK then! Like I said, didn't wanna get in your space."

Y/n looks back at him and apologizes, they just thought it was funny how close he was and jokingly say that he's so close that he's practically snuggling up to them. Monkey King immediately retracts and starts to huff and puff with a sarcastic tone,

"Well, I'm sure if I knew what that meant I would be super offended!"

Y/n's happy expression swiftly turns to confusion and asks if he knows what snuggling is. Monkey King shakes his head, Y/n asks about cuddling, and Monkey King shakes his head, they ask about Nuzzling? Monkey King thinks for a second, kind of shrugs but still shakes his head. Y/n is of course completely baffled by this new information.

They put their phone down, turn to him, and start to explain it. After the explanations, Monkey King simply raises an eyebrow and retracts his head back. He doesn't know how to feel about this, part of him is very intrigued by it but the other part of him, the whole "this monkey hero's alone", pushes the feeling away. He stifles a laugh and just kind of shrugs it off,

"Pfft, sound's pretty sappy! I don't think that's happening anytime soon, definitely not what I was going for, sorry to get your hopes up haha!"

Y/n shrugs it off and picks their phone back up continuing to watch the video they were watching. After a bit of time, y/n remembers that they could hear Monkey King stirring a lot in his sleep, sometimes even growling or snapping his teeth. They ask him if he's been having nightmares. Monkey King sort of tenses up but quickly rolls the feeling off his shoulders.

"Nah! Just dreaming about kicking demon butt! Nothing can shake me up, need I remind you I took on a dragon king and heaven all in the same day? You think a little nightmare can rile me up? Hah! think again." He turns away from y/n and picks Stick back up. His confidence fades from his face.

Y/n suggests that, if he ever were to have nightmares he is more than welcome to tell them. Y/n says whenever they have nightmares, they tend to snuggle either their stuffed animals or pillows that they have and that tends to help a lot. Monkey King shakes his head, still avoiding eye contact, his voice a bit defensive

"I can take care of myself. I've done it for this long, not gonna stop now."

Later on, in the dead of the night, Monkey King wakes up from another nightmare. He sits up on the large bean bag and tries to keep his labored breathing to himself so as not to wake up Y/n. He manages to somewhat calm down but, he's still on edge. He remembers what y/n had mentioned earlier that day. But, he didn't want to feel weak, to feel like he needed to depend on someone. He's taken care of himself for so long, he should be able to manage this himself. He looks at of y/n's stuffed animals and thinks to himself,

"Well… I mean, they're asleep, They'll never know."

Reluctantly, he plucks up one of y/n's stuffed animals and grips it tightly. But of course, to no avail this is help at all, it only makes his desperation stronger. He tosses the stuffed animal to the side and looks at y/n, still fast asleep with their arm wrapped around a large pillow. He quietly walks over to Y/n's bed, a quiet grumble in his throat. He sticks his tongue out and softly bites it as he tries to think. How can he get close without them waking up? He gets an idea and puts it into action. He grabs the pillow y/n is holding and tries to slowly take it from them.

Y/n adjusts themselves in their sleep and Monkey acts faster. He snatches the pillow from them, crawls under their arm, and lays down with his back turned to them. His ear flicks to see if y/n has woken up from any of that. They sigh in their sleep and wrap their arms around Monkey King, holding him close. Monkey's whole body stiffens up as his fur bristles to their soft touch. Is this, are they snuggling? His mind starts to race with a never-ending barrage of worries:

"Does this make me a wuss? They'll never let me live this down if they find out! What am I doing?! This was a horrible idea!"

Just before his worries his their peak, he gains clarity again by y/n softly nuzzling his back. His muscles start to relax as he faintly sighs, maybe, just for tonight. One night. His eyes start to feel more heavy and he quickly drifts off to sleep.

Monkey king x reader Masterpost

[hargrove-mayfields]

Disabled Billy and Steve Week

Day 3- special interests

My prompt: Harringrove- Shared Special Interest

-•-•-•-

One month. Billy and Steve have been living together for one month.

In that time they’ve discovered a lot about each other, things they never expected. Things like Steve hanging his jackets and sweaters in rainbow order in the closet, or Billy placing the cups in diagonal lines in the cabinet.

Only one thing had caused a disagreement, and that was about furniture covers. Billy’s ocd wanted them to avoid touching “sofa stank ass,” but Steve’s autism hated the texture of sitting on fabric on top of fabric.

Their solution was two separate chairs instead of one couch. Close enough to hold hands constantly, but separate enough to enforce their individual boundaries. Sure, it means cuddles are limited to their bed, but Billy’s on bedrest with full body aches and bouts of fibro fog usually once a week, so it works.

However, by far the most exciting tidbit they’d discovered was that they share a special interest. Games.

Video games, board games, sports- they’ve both explored the history, researched the best strategies, and played thousands upon thousands of games. DND had brought them together through mutual friendship with Eddie, while Super Mario kept their relationship on its toes.

Tonight, their choice was a little unconventional for them, a big dusty box fished from the very back of the closet. An inherited, smoke stained edition of Scrabble. If either of them and their dyslexia had realized that making a goal to play every game in the house would mean playing a spelling game, they might not have made that promise.

But, Steve already was dead set on doing it, and his dedication was not to be messed with. They were going to play that game, no matter how long it took.

Currently almost two hours and half a bag of letter chips in, it’s Steve’s turn again.

“Uhhh, I’ll spell… sunset! S-U-N.. S-E-T.”

Every chip is placed carefully, and they both double check it with the help of their Scrabble approved dictionary. At first, he’d placed them in the wrong spot, connected to a D instead of the S on the end that he meant to use, but they fixed it quickly instead of dwelling on the mistake. Billy knows Steve might cry of embarrassment if they keep the focus on his mistake for too long.

But now it’s time for Billy to have yet another go, as Steve reminds him in case he forgot again, “Your turn, Bubs! Got anything good?”

“Honestly? I have no ideas. These letters suck.” Billy grumbles, pushing the small tray that holds the letter chips away.

“You can look it up.” Steve suggests, the only way they ever agreed to go along with this game being shortcuts and technical cheats.

But Billy shakes his head, in deep concentration, “No. No, I wanna do it on my own.”

Steve gives an encouraging smile, “Take your time. I’m watching the TV over your shoulder.”

Something about the way Billy snorts says he doesn’t see that as encouragement, but instead sounds hurt, “I’m that boring, huh?”

Regretting the way he’d put it so bluntly, Steve makes sure to promise kindly, “Nope! I just like the game shows!”

It’s true too. He likes learning new words in a way that doesn’t make his brain feel like it’s on fire. And watching other people fail and struggle, even the best of the best, makes him feel a lot better about playing mostly two or three lettered words in this here game of Scrabble.

Billy’s shoulders relax with ease, satisfied that Steve isn’t annoyed with him. He does, however, quip sarcastically, “We’re so old.”

“Thirty isn’t old.” Steve hums, actually happy to be growing older instead of being trapped in the misery of his teens forever.

Growing up meant growing out of his intense self-deprecation, after leaving behind all the pain and the tragedy he’d gone through. Now in California, playing board games with the love of his life, nothing else matters.

Billy clarifies his meaning, showing to Steve that he feels the same way, and was just using an expression, “I’m not talking about literally, baby. And stop rounding up, I’m only 26.”

It’s lighthearted and they both smile, but something keeps nagging in Steve’s head. One of those old fears of his rising up despite his insistence that they don’t bother him anymore.

“We can do young people stuff.” He offers, sounding kind of upset though he doesn’t mean to let it show, “I mean, I just thought this was fun...”

Even though they’ve got a game set up, Billy leans over the small table on his elbows, and holds Steve’s hands, “Stevie. It’s great. I love these slow days with you. They make me happier than anything. I was just kidding.”

Instant relief floods Steve’s nervously twisted stomach, but just in case he asks, “You’re sure? ‘Cause we can do something else.”

It’s his fault they’re doing this. He said it would be okay. Fun even. He said they can do anything they want.

“I want to keep playing.” Billy promises, and then a real pleased look crosses his face, “I just thought of a word even.”

“What is it?” Steve brightens up immediately, leaning forward in interest.

Billy uses an ‘O’ chip already on the board to spell- “Love.”

Picking up from the look on Billy’s face, it’s not a coincidence that he’s taken to flirting through a board game. Steve blushes like they haven’t already been together for eight years. These slow times between them can be relaxing, but they’re usually days where they check in on their romance too. Rekindling the passion over a goddamn spelling game, that should, by all means, have caused Steve to panic ages ago.

It’s sweet, and it only gets better.

An adjacent ‘S’ in line with Billy’s ‘O’ and an ‘M’ further down the board makes it so Steve can spell the biggest word he’s ever played in this game, “Oh! I can use that to spell Soulmate!!”

“You got that right. I’m yours, and you’re mine.” Billy says all suavely. Steve’s literally giggling and kicking his feet, only to be shown once again through the next move just how much of a romantic Billy is.

“Matter of fact, I can use that new M to spell- Marry.”

For a moment, Steve just stares.

He’s not sure if it’s genuine or just a strategy, until Billy produces a tiny box from his pocket. It’s wooden, looks hand carved. Inside is a ring with a small ruby in a heart shape attached to a band, one he recognizes as being Billy’s mothers.

“Billy-“ He chokes. The words he’d been doing so good at freeze up. He’s used his brain so much today and now it’s failing him?

Billy is patient though, leaving the box propped open on the table so he doesn’t have to hold it and lock his wrist up, “Stevie.”

Steve swallows down his nerves as best he can, and starts to ask, “Are you..?”

“I am.” Billy finishes for him, so Steve doesn’t get too frustrated. It’s then that he starts to look nervous too. He chews his lip, a stim Steve recognizes as being an anxious one. Like he’s done something wrong by asking for something so big, “Do you want to?”

But this, this couldn’t be more perfect. A proposal through their shared special interest, a lifelong passion channeled into their love. Of course Steve wants that too. Really, he’s wanted it ever since they were teenagers, but now that they’re in their twenties, they’re finally ready for that dream to become a reality.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

~~~~~~

For todays disability organization spotlight, let’s talk about the National Fibromyalgia Association.

The NFA is a site which provides health information and resources about Fibromyalgia, a condition that is under researched and often disregarded by medical professionals as not even existing.

The information on their site ranges from self care guides, science explaining chronic pain, COVID precautions for our disorder, medication and treatment suggestions, and emotional assistance for fibromyalgia patients, among other things.

Run by doctors and fibromyalgia patients alike, the websites main goal is to spread awareness and make research accessible for everyone. When I finally received my diagnosis, I spent a lot of time here learning about little things I could do for myself to manage my symptoms. Now I use mobility aids and am in physical therapy, and my symptoms are much more managed than before.

Because fibromyalgia is such a disregarded disability, so are our foundations. The NFA is currently asking for donations, either direct monetary donations or through buying their merchandise in the online shop.

If you would like to learn more about this organization or access their information guides, you can click here to visit the site.

[rozcdust]

Mockingbird

Pairing: Shinichiro Sano x F!Reader

Genre: Crack, fluff, lil angst

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: Canon divergent, OOC, profanity, mentioned panic attacks, non-graphic mentions of a snake eating

You were born rotten, but he had a chance.

pt. 1 | previous | playlist

Shinichiro nervously checked his watch, the numbers 7:32 flashing back at him like a slap in the face.

He arrived at the meeting spot at 6:50, not wanting to be late a second, fixing his hair and lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves, first only thinking you’ll be a couple of minutes late, no biggie.

But soon 7 p.m. turned into 7:10, then 7:20, and by that point, he was sure you just weren’t gonna show up, that it was just a way to mock him a little more, maybe to decimate his self-esteem entirely.

He already considered throwing the flowers Izana, Mikey and Emma picked for you into the trash and just going to get drunk with Takeomi, already imaging the mocking look on his friend’s face, but he decided to wait a little more, maybe until 8, then he will go wallow in self misery and alcohol and regretting every single life choice he has ever made.

Well, this has been soul-crushing, goodbye any and all self-respect.

“Hey! Lover boy!”

He of all things did not expect to look up and see you running, stopping right in front of him to bend at the waist and hold your side, taking deep, heavy breaths, looking like you’ll collapse.

“Fuck, I am so, so incredibly sorry, I had to drop my brother off at his friend’s but then he got a panic attack and I couldn’t just leave him like that and then there was traffic and-“

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, no worries,” Carefully patting your back, Shinichiro could not hide the way he perked up like a dog being promised a treat, “Is your brother okay? Do you need to go back?”

You came after all!

Shaking your head as you plopped down next to the water fountain, you buried your face in your hands, trying to steady your heartbeat, politely thanking Shinichiro when he handed you a water bottle.

“No, no, I asked him if he wants me to stay but he said to get my ass here, so yeah, he’s fine now, I went to drop him off at 5 so I’d be on time, couldn’t leave him alone, but some* motherfucker in the building was yelling and that set him off and-“

“It’s fine,” Smiling, Shinichiro sat down next to you, carefully settling the flowers by his side, “No need to explain yourself, don’t worry, just catch your breath.”

Nodding as you looked up at him with a smile, your eyes widened as you caught sight of his face, arm instinctively reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“Hey, you left your hair down!” Grinning, you ignored the way his ears flushed, “Also, you look nice. That shirt really suits you.”

“Well, you said I looked cute that way.” He shrugged, trying to play it off cool, as if you hadn’t already made him eat concrete, “And thanks, my little brother bullied me into wearing it- Oh, also, um- These are for you. My siblings helped pick them out.”

Carefully handing the flowers over to you, he felt his soul only slightly die at your confused face.

“Oh, thank you? Sorry, kinda awkward, never received flowers that weren’t from my brother before- Is it okay if I put them in my bag so I don’t lose them?“

Never mind, he suddenly got the desire to live again when you smiled shyly, a finger passing over the petal of one of the tiger lilies in the bouquet.

“Sure, I planned for us to go to an aquarium if that’s okay? I mean, that’s kinda childish now that I think about it, if you wanna go somewhere else that’s totally fine-”

A teasing grin spreading on your face made him stop his speech, his ears to flush a bright pink again as you pulled him up to his feet, standing so close he could feel your breath on his face.

“I would fucking love going to the aquarium and look at some fish.”

“Shin, this one kinda looks like you.”

Shinichiro’s eyes narrowed as he leaned down the observe the fish you were pointing at.

“It looks stupid and confused.”

You flashed him a mischievous grin.

“Exactly!”

“Wow. I’m feeling bullied right now.”

“You should. I am bullying you.”

“Mean. Come on, let’s go see the snakes.” Rolling his eyes, Shinichiro linked his arm with yours, dragging you towards the exhibit.

He half expected you to recoil and scowl at the sight of a large boa, apparently in the middle of a meal, but your eyes lit up like a little kid’s, clearly fascinated as you got a touch too close to the glass.

“You are a little too into watching that snake swallow a mouse alive.” Teasingly, Shin elbowed you, but you swatted at him, finally looking up at him, and he suddenly knew an aquarium was a good choice.

“I live with an 11-year-old kid, of course I think a snake eating a mouse alive is cool.” Sticking your tongue out to him, you let out a short laugh at his scandalised look.

“Oh yeah, been meaning to ask you, you said you had to leave him at a friend’s because no one could watch him?”

Shinichiro saw the way you tensed, slowly turning to face him fully, but he pushed on.

“Are your parents not in town or?”

You scratched the back of your neck, avoiding his gaze as you stared at the snake, deep in thought.

“We don’t live with our parents. They were kinda shitty so I took my brother and left.”

Shinichiro knew a nerve when he touched one. He tried to backtrack, but it seemed a little too late for that now.

“Oh! Oh my God, I’m so sorry-“

You shook your head, smiling softly.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.“

A beat of silence passed.

“Wanna go see the alligators so we can break this awkwardness?”

“Yes, yes, God, please.”

Laughing, you took his hand into yours, starting to talk about how you hoped they were feeding the alligators too, and for a second, he couldn’t help but grin at your childish glee.

“I swear to God, you seem like you never went to an aquarium before.”

Turning your head slightly to give him a look, your smile turned only a touch regretful.

Only a touch angry.

“I actually never did, so this is seriously an excellent date.”

“Ah. I’m glad.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one walking you home?”

“Respectfully, I think I can handle myself more than you can.”

Shinichiro nodded with a small smile as the two of you stopped in front of his house.

“I really had fun today,” Taking a deep, long breath, Shinichiro nervously played with the lighter in his pocket, “I’d like it if we could do this again someday?”

Your smile was gentle as you nodded, opening your mouth to respond, but something caught your eye.

You raised an eyebrow, looking at the tan, white-haired teenager observing you through the window, a younger, blonde child tightly tucked into his arms as the other, equally young and blond child was perched atop his shoulders, all three staring, eyes narrowed.

For a second, you could swear you saw a fourth kid clinging to the teen’s back, but he was gone before you could really process it.

Raising an arm to wave, Shinichiro followed your line of sight, but the teen yanked the curtain closed before he could spot them.

He let out a groan, his hand running through his hair in frustration.

“Sorry, those are my siblings, little menaces. They were half convinced I made up I have a date.”

“Huh, tracks. Were you adopted? They’re all blond.”

Shinichiro gave you a look of utmost betrayal.

“Wow. I’d get it if this was coming from them, they gang up on me all the time anyway, but you? Seriously?”

You raised your arms up in defeat, allowing just a crack of a teasing smile to slip.

“Hey, just saying.”

He sighed, shaking his head.

“I should probably go in, they’ll have so many questions.”

“Oh, sure!” Leaning down to quickly kiss his cheek, right at the corner of his mouth, you grinned at the way his face flushed, “I had a good time too. See you soon, Sano Shinichiro!”

He waved back, waiting on you to turn a corner before storming into the house, on his way to find the little monsters and perhaps tell them off just a little.

And he did, caught them red fucking handed, innocently pretending to do anything but stalking him, Mikey still sat atop Izana’s shoulder as Emma at least tried to pretend to be asleep, face buried into Izana’s neck, but an eye peeking open betraying her.

Sighing, Shinichiro glared.

“Are you all done?”

“We weren’t sure that you weren’t hallucinating.” Izana had the audacity to shrug, Mikey nodding along.

“Or that it wasn’t just Wakasa in a wig.”

“I hate this house.”

Izana rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, you love us.”

Shinichiro let out a long, theatrical sigh, before ruffling the teen’s hair.

“I, unfortunately, really do.” Shinichiro’s eyes narrowed for just a second as he caught a flash of blue peeking from behind his brother, “Izana. Turn around.”

The teen did as asked, and as expected, Haruchiyo was there, holding onto Izana’s back like his life depended on it as he awkwardly turned his head to send Shin an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, Shin-nii.”

“It’s okay, Haru. I imagine they dragged you into this.”

“We did not!” Mikey complained, but Izana’s muttered ‘We did’ in no way helped his cause.

. . . next

🔖Taglist (open):

@1818cigarettes @nana-phobia @dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @missarabellla @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @levistiddies @sanzucide @touyasghost @graythecoffeebean @yukihime-mikeys-girl @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @crybabylisa @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @erza-uzumaki @sh4nn @sisnot @soushswag @kneeapartman @anahryal @reiners-milkbiddies @satsuri3su @aretheea @bluerskiees @galactict3a @bontensbabygirl @somniari-94 @astropheia @rgtgt @bubble-dream-inc @princesshaitani @luvjiro

a/n: won’t be able to update tomorrow bc i’ll be busy aS FUCK so posting early now to get it off my schedule, plus i really liked writing this chapter 🤧

[thecuriousquest]

Hear me out can you please do a yandere hitoshi and monoma and izuku a Yui komori( she's from the game diabolik lovers) darling that is still traumatized even after escaping the sakamaki makami brothers

But she still a sweet and kind person

But one day they come home and they can't find her anywhere and thinking she escaped but soon found her in a closet shaking and crying because of a nightmare of one of the brothers finding her and using her as a bloodbag again

And when they managed to calm her down she tells them about her trauma and past and even though they kidnapped her she still loves them and feel safe around them that's why she never fought back because why would she fight back against someone that treats her nicely and loves her

And they decide to help her with her trauma like going shopping with her or doing some of the hobby she likes and maybe letting her outside or just spending time together

Sorry if this is too detailed or it's too much

In Need of a Hero Part One

Writing this in three separate versions is going to be a lot for one post, so I went ahead and only wrote for Hitoshi.

Tag List: @issamomma

Yandere Hitoshi x Reader

Warnings: Implied kidnapping, past trauma, nightmares, violence

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

You’ve escaped from the horrid clutches of the Sakamaki Makami brothers. They beat you, held you captive for your blood. You wanted nothing more than to start your own life again, only to be brought back into the life of a prisoner by a man with violet hair.

However, he is different. He tells you he loves you, and he means it. He shows it to you every day. He feeds you, clothes you, bathes you. He treats you with kindness that you have never known.

One day, while he’s out, you wake up from a gruesome nightmare. You hang from a rope like a dead fish, the life slowly being drained out of you as the brothers cut at your skin for more blood. The scarlet liquid dripping down your arms and thighs. Crying out for safety as you wake up, you see your only refuge: the closet.

Crawling into the empty space save for some clothes, you shut the doors softly. Curling up in the corner, you hug your knees to your chest and force your breaths to become shallow.

Hitoshi comes home. You’re nowhere to be found. Dropping the contents of his coffee mug, he rushes around the house trying to find you. “Y/N!” He calls out to you, but you’re too scared to answer. In fact, you place a hand over your mouth to make sure that you can’t be heard.

Finally, the closet doors open, and Hitoshi looks angry at first. You brace yourself for a violent strike to your face, for a knife wound to the body. It’s what you’re used to. However, his expression softens once he takes in how scared you are, once he realizes your face is coated with tears.

“Y/N.” This time, his tone is soaked with pity. He helps you up and walks over to the bed with you. He puts you on his lap, holding you closely. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You shake your head and hide your eyes in the crook of his neck. Hitoshi doesn’t mind. He rubs your back to calm you. Once your tears are dry, he tilts your chin up to look at him.

“Are you upset because you had another nightmare?”

It makes your tummy stir with butterflies because he knows you so well. You like how much he pays attention to you, to what upsets you. You fiddle with your fingers as you answer him. “Yes, Hitoshi. I’m sorry I hid in the closet. I know you don’t like it. It’s just…the closet makes me feel safe.”

“Can you tell me what your nightmare was about this time? I know you don’t like to talk about it, but it might help you feel better. I’ll always be here for you.”

Your eyes begin to water again from his kindness. He’s such a sweetheart! Taking a deep breath, you begin to relive your past to him. “I was taken by a clan, the Sakamaki Makami brothers. They hurt me so badly. They starved me, beat me, used me as a blood bag. It was awful.” You clutch Hitoshi’s shirt for comfort. “I know this isn’t exactly a conventional situation, but you make me feel so safe. I don’t want to leave here, Hitoshi. I mean, you treat me so nicely. I love you. I don’t want to fight you, ever. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

Hitoshi looks at you like he doesn’t know what to say.

“You’re my hero, Hitoshi. I love you so much.”

Despite your tears, you give him a soft kiss on the lips. He tastes the salt, but he doesn’t care. Hitoshi holds you closely and returns the kiss after his shock wears off. He never knew you felt like this. He always thought your compliance was just because you were afraid of him. Now that he knows you’re not scared of him, he is going to do everything in his power to help you through your trauma.

In fact, he does just that later on in the evening after trying to come up with a plan. He reads on the computer about art therapy and how the sun can have positive influences on people. What better way to help you than to combine the two? He takes you to the hobby store, buying you paints, pastels, ink, canvases, basically the entire art section of the store. You giggle as he doesn’t even bother looking at prices. He just throws whatever he thinks you’ll need in the cart, the cart that is stacked very high. You like how he’s taking charge of the situation even though you don’t really know what he has planned.

The next day, when the sun is shining brightly in the afternoon, he puts sunscreen on you, and you know what that means. OUTSIDE TIME!!! You walk into the garden with him and find all of the art supplies set out for you to use. Beyond excited, you rush over to the easel and pick up a brush. You look at him for permission, and he smiles, giving you a nod to go ahead and have fun.

Hitoshi sits down on the bench and watches you with your tongue out as you concentrate. He can’t wait to hang it up for you in the house. Hitoshi just silently hopes that this will help you feel better.

As he sits there on the bench, he comes up with a plan to go after the clan who hurt you so badly. He makes a list of all the pro heroes he can contact in order to take them down, cut out the cancer if you will. He smiles just thinking about how he’ll drain them of their blood so that they know exactly how it feels. He’ll hurt them for you because he loves you.

That’s what good boyfriends are for, right?

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 20

Day Nineteen | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Twenty-One

Pairing: Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked

Notes: This is the toy that's described/used. I love mine. Use code Slut4fic to get 20% off—I'm kidding, that code won't work BUT it is a good toy. You know. If you're in the market. Anyway—

Warnings: Sex toys; fingering; blowjobs

A pair of socks. That was all you’d asked Borracho to do—grab you a pair of socks. 

“Top right drawer, please and thank yoooou.” 

You were already incredibly late to get drinks with his team. Borracho had turned up to your apartment almost an hour later than he was supposed to. On top of that, you’d gotten side tracked while getting your things together to go out. You hadn’t been able to find your bag, the outfit that you’d planned on wearing had shrunk in the dryer, and Borracho had gotten more than a little handsy when you were getting dressed. 

Socks. You had asked for socks. But when Borracho didn’t reappear for five minutes, you headed back to your bedroom. 

“How long does it take to find…Socks…” You slowed and stopped in your doorway when you spotted Borracho standing at your dresser with the drawer open, holding one of your sex toys.

You folded your arms across your chest, leaning against the frame as he clicked through the settings, then fished into the drawer for another one. 

“Borracho.”

“Hm?”

“Those are not socks.”

“You don’t say.”

He tossed you a smile over his shoulder before turning back to the array of toys. You groaned, pushing away from the door frame and walking deeper into your bedroom. 

“Babe, you know I hate being late.”

He ignored your plea in favor of holding up one of your favorite toys. “What’s this do?” 

“It’s for my clit. Can you just pass me some socks so we can go?” 

“How does it work?” He looked at the device, turning it over in his hands and thumbing the small silicone opening. You huffed softly, stepping close and taking it from his hands before pressing one of the buttons. The device hummed to life, and you hovered it over Borracho’s fingertip, allowing him to feel the suction. His eyes widened slightly before he took it back from you, pressing through the settings and feeling the suction increase, then strobe. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had these?” He asked, finally shutting it off. 

“I didn’t think it was the kind of thing you’d be interested in.” 

“Why not?” 

“I mean…” You shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d wanna know about them. Most of the other people that I’ve been out with found the fact that I had them kinda…Insulting.” 

“Why would they upset them” Borracho scoffed. “I know I can get you there, baby. Doesn’t mean we can’t have a little extra,” He turned the toy on again, smiling at its gentle hum, “Fun along the way.” 

You smiled, shaking your head a little. “You truly baffle me sometimes, Magalon.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He leaned in, pressing a warm kiss to your lips. You raised your hand, tenderly skating your fingers over his jaw. You drew back, giving his cheek a tap. 

“Put it away and let’s go.” You reached into the drawer, grabbing a pair of socks before heading out of your room again. 

-- 

You knew that you were in for a hell of a night when Borracho started getting handsy at the bar. He’d tucked his hand into your back pocket as you stood with the guys, but delighted in trying to make you squirm as he gave your cheek a little squeeze. You shot him warning looks every once in a while, but he mostly ignored them, making conversation with Connors or Henderson. Now and again he’d shift closer, pressing his lips against your temple. The two of you had never been over the top with PDA, especially in front of his team, but the frequency of the pecks was far more than you’d become accustomed to in the last few months. 

“You having fun?” He murmured in your ear as the conversation around you lulled. You nodded, turning your head to get a better look at him. 

“Are you?” You batted back. He smiled, giving your ass another cheeky squeeze. 

“Have even more fun later.” 

Your brows rose. “...What’s later?” You hedged.

--  

“Fuck, Ben, that feels so good,” You whined. Your thighs twitched around his head as he pistoned his fingers in and out of your slick pussy, his tongue lapping at your opening between strokes. Your hands were between your thighs, one gripping his hair, the other holding the toy as it sucked your clit in short, harsh bursts. You rolled your hips into the feeling, whimpering as he nudged the toy out of the way just long enough to lap across your clit and give it a sucking kiss.

You shivered as he replaced the toy, turning his head to nip at the tender meat of your thigh. You pouted as he drew away, shifting up the bed and kneeling beside you. You turned your head, grasping his cock and letting the toy between your thighs fall to the bed as you took him into your mouth. You hummed softly as Borracho groaned, thrusting into your mouth with short, even strokes. 

You felt him shift, the bed shifting slightly as he did. You jumped as the sucking sensation suddenly resumed on your clit. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Borracho growled, shifting the head of the toy around, applying an inconsistent, tantalizing pressure that you ground down into. You bobbed your head, swirling your tongue around the head and fondling his sac. He hissed softly, watching you from beneath his lashes as you peered hazily up at him. 

“Can you cum like this?” He smoothed his hand over your cheek, tracing the bugle of his cock as he pressed between your lips. “Just from playing with your pussy while I use your mouth?” 

You moaned, tipping your head and taking more of his shaft between your lips. You gagged and pulled back a bit as his cock hit the back of your throat, and you drew a deep breath in through your nose before diving forward again, taking in as much as him between your lips as you could.

You grasped his wrist, forcing steady pressure over your clit as your hips drove down into it, feeling the familiar swell of pleasure as you grew closer and closer. You drew off of him just a little, tongue swiping across the leaking head of his cock as your hips jolted up into the sucking toy. You let your mouth fall open, jacking and twisting your hand around his shaft as your hips bounded up against the toy. 

You watched his thick chest rise and fall as his hand wrapped around yours, controlling the speed and direction of the strokes. It was only a few moments before you felt the first spurt of cum paint your chin. You tipped your head down to catch the following thrusts in your mouth, letting it sit on your tongue as you looked up at him. He groaned low, drawing his cock from between your lips as he lay down beside you. He reached up, gently swiping the stray drops from your chin and pressing his fingers between your lips. You laved along his fingertips, giving them a suck before swallowing and sticking your tongue back out. Borracho chuckled, glancing between your thighs and taking the toy up again to turn it off. 

“This thing is great. My jaw only hurts a little.” 

“Speak for yourself,” You muttered, raising your hand to massage the sore area. He snorted. 

“Maybe you need some more practice,” He waggled his brows. 

“Or maybe we need to get you some toys.” 

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @wild-rose-35 ; @daisyslibrary ; @informally-liz ; @andrastesflamingtitties ; @muchacha-encabronada ; @nerdygirl0414 ; @elen-aranel ; @ohbee-whatcanyoube ; @kmc1989 ; @quietpainter ; @thedreadandthefugitivemind ; @kaletastrophes ; @nyx2021 ; @thatesqcrush ; @shanimallina87 ; @adarasforest ; @s-u-t ; @silversprings-mp3 ; @senawashere ; @thesandbeneathmytoes

[bluury2]

“Shadow might not be able to picture the expression the way that Vio can, but he doesn’t need to. Frankly, he doesn’t care to. The sight before him is… Everything else falls away. The room, the heat of the lava, the coming fight, none of it matters. None of it means anything at all in comparison to Vio like that . Lounging back into a throne, legs spread in casual ease, like it was made just for him.

Shadow doesn’t think, he just moves. He moves so quickly his form flickers, and he rematerializes right before the throne.

“What do you think?” Vi asks him, smirking down.

Shadow doesn’t answer. Not in words. He just drops to his knees.

“Shadow?” Vi asks, a slight laugh to his voice”

Upon the throne - @not-freyja

THEM

THEY’RE SO INLOVE

THEY’RE SO INLOVE IT HURT ME PHYSICALLY JAHSBDBFJD RAHHH

[latibvles]

SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.

beautiful, tragic // to be in it with you.

i’ll find a million ways to say it before i say that i’m in—

masterlist | gallery | taglist

TAGLIST: @liebgotts-lovergirl , @softguarnere , @brassknucklespeirs ,@monalisastwin , @mads-weasley , @eugene-emt-roe

SUMMARY: Reaching the Eagles’ Nest makes the day special in more ways than one.

WARNINGS: None!

Picturesque mountains, sun warming her skin, her eyes crinkle at the corners on a squint as she peers at it for a moment. She didn’t think she’d have much time for sightseeing in a war, but here she is — a working draft of a letter balanced precariously on her thigh as she writes out a thank you for the well wishes from her mother, men and women alike all idling on this road etched into the mountainside. Beside her, Jane is also leaned up against the jeep, gray eyes shut to soak in the rays warming them like stones on a riverbed.

“Your French still any good?” she asks, out of the blue cracking one eye open. That was one thing Daisy began to notice about Jane. When she was feeling chatty, she could never anticipate what the girl was going to say or ask. Daisy raises an eyebrow, looking at her sidelong and gives her a shrug.

“It’s alright, I guess. Why d’you ask?”

“Cause I can’t remember a lick of shit since Belgium but I wanna tell the French to haul ass and get rid of the roadblock.” At that, Daisy snorts at the mild irritation edging in Jane’s voice as she says it, folding up her paper and putting it in her pocket.

“What, don’t wanna beat the French to the nest?”

“I don’t give a damn who wins, I just want to get up there already.” Distantly, a sound of an explosion echoes down the road they’re all sat upon, and Daisy snorts. Last Daisy checked, they were getting quite…  creative with how they intended to blow the roadblock sky high. Namely, combining explosives like a high-risk middle school science fair. Grenades, dynamite, bazookas, all which translated in Daisy’s mind as some idiot having too much fun and losing a couple fingers if they weren’t careful enough.

She’s hoping that the joy found in blowing things up might’ve died down a little bit with the war apparently coming so close to an end — but part of her knows that’s just her own foolish optimism.

But it is, admittedly, nice to know she still has some of it left after all this.

“Someone’s antsy,” Daisy can’t help but snicker, and Jane rolls her eyes.

“Ever the astute observations from my fearless leader.” She watches Jane shake out a cigarette and fish through her pocket for the lighter, lights it, and brings it to her own lips before letting smoke escape. Then she offers it to Daisy.

“Yeah well, that’s what they hired me for.”

“Your wise remarks?” Jane asks as Daisy takes it from her, bringing it to her own lips. They share a look as an engine roars and a jeep whizzes by them further up the road.

“My astute observations,” Daisy concurs, “Also, I think you might’ve gotten your wish after all, Gray.”

The town was dead quiet before they came in. An eerily empty place save for the rumble of engines, emblazoned in the red banners that make her entirely angry now. The moment their feet hit the ground, anything that gleams is fair game — for combat nurse and soldier alike, it seems.

Which is to say: Daisy’s bag is heavy with things that weren’t even hers, nor were they things that she necessarily picked up herself. She didn’t expect Rita to have such sticky fingers, but when the argument was that they’d need nice silverware for the apartment they’ve yet to get, she couldn’t exactly argue with that sound logic. And when Easy Company gets fired up to head further up the mountain — she allows herself a moment of childishness, sticking out her tongue to her friend who would be staying behind in town for the moment with the rest of Fox.

Okay, so maybe she got her pick of a couple candleholders in town, and maybe she was just a little bit eager to see if the stone mountain retreat had anything nicer than that. Which it should, because the damn thing had a gold plated elevator.

She’s greeted with lush couches and carpets, champagne in buckets of water that likely was ice, at one point, and the sound of popping bottles as everybody in the place helps themselves to the stash. Daisy wanders, curious as the men chip pieces off that big stone fireplace. She’s on one of the many balconies the retreat holds when Liebgott finds her first. He smacks one of those fireplace chunks unceremoniously into her hand. Then, he offers her the glass-green champagne bottle he’s carrying with him.

“It’s a special day, after all, don’t say I didn’t get you nothin’,” he hums with a knowing glint in his eye. She takes the bottle by the neck, glances up at him with slightly wider eyes and parted lips.

“You remembered?”

“What kinda dumb question is that?” He asks with a bit of a scoff. “‘Course I did, kid, now hurry up before I take the damn bottle back.” Daisy rolls her eyes and takes a swig, champagne bubbles popping on her tongue and going down smooth. It tastes expensive. She grins as she licks the excess from her lips and gives him the bottle back, and then he takes a swig from it himself before ruffling her hair. “Atta girl. Make any wishes?”

“I’d need candles for that.” He grins again and gives her a shrug.

“Sure we could work somethin’ out. Not like ol’ Adolf’s gonna need them. Y’know this place has a goddamn kitchen? Fully stocked.” He says, a sharp bite to the words. Daisy snorts, partially in disbelief.

“What, you're gonna make me a cake or something? I don’t know if I trust you around a stove while you’re drinking.” Joe laughs, a full sound accompanied by another ruffle of her hair. “Tell you what, you find me candles and I’ll make all the wishes in the world.” That seems to satisfy him, the grin not faltering as he looks up and past her. There’s a clearing of the throat, and Daisy turns around.

Ron stands in the doorway, straight-faced and looking between them, before his gaze focuses on Liebgott.

“I need to speak to Lieutenant Clarke, Liebgott,” he informs in that non-negotiable tone of his. As if they had important business to attend to among the pretty scenery and loungers arranged to overlook the woods below. Joe isn’t an idiot, so he nods, resigned.

“Yes, sir,” he responds with a salute, he walks back inside, disappearing into the building and Daisy watches as that stern look on Ron’s face practically melts away.

He’d been the first one up, with Malarkey and Alton. So it didn’t take a genius to know that wherever he’d stored his gear in this place — it would likely clink and clatter until it made its way to Vest at the post office to get all boxed up. He reaches up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, shorter strands that had fallen from its braid. Something about the mundaneness of the gesture makes her smile.

“One hell of a day,” Ron observes, giving her a knowing look.

“That’s a way to put it, yeah,” Daisy points out with a curious smile. He tilts her chin up with his knuckle until she’s looking at him completely.

“Make any wishes?”

“Didn’t you hear while you were creeping in the shadows? You can’t make a wish without candles.” She points out, and Ron rolls his eyes as he leans down to kiss her, her chin between his thumb and pointer. His lips taste like whiskey, and she can’t help but think back to the last time he drank — all weepy in her lap and dramatic in the morning. The grin that makes it onto her lips is enough to break their kiss. He gives her a half-hearted narrow-eyed look.

“I don’t creep.”

“Lurking then, it’s not a bad thing,” Daisy amends, and she can tell Ron is biting back what has to be a smile as he fishes around in his pocket.

“Fine. Lurking. Doesn’t matter, I got you something.”

“If it’s forks, I’m afraid Rita might have you beat there. I think the drawers might burst if we get any more.” Ron shakes his head immediately with a soft chuckle.

“Not forks, but good to know.”

What he produces from his pocket is much more delicate than the silverware or the candle holders or the hand mirrors.

It’s a sapphire pendant on a thin, silver chain. Delicate and pretty in a way that makes Daisy’s lips part on a gasp. She’d passed quite a bit of jewelry, but none of it were things she’d ever wear so she left it behind for someone else to take. It was all too chunky, too demanding of attention, too weighty in her hands. This was the opposite. Silver curls around that deep blue sapphire, holding it in place, but it was still the centerpiece in spite of the embellishments.

“Happy birthday, Dais,” he says simply. Daisy reaches up, fingers grazing the cold metal in awe. She then looks up at him, a million questions and statements all posed on her tongue.

“Can you put it on me?” is what she decides on, and to that he nods, and she turns around.

Fingers graze the back of her neck as his fingers work to fasten it. She doesn’t care about how he got it, where it came from — just that he’d picked it up not to mail home, but to give to her. And she shouldn’t expect anything less from him, but everything he does still manages to fill her with something that can only be described as pure wonder.

Ron is wonderful. 

It’s not an epiphany of any sort, if anything, she feels like it’s the most obvious statement she could make. Of course he’s wonderful. Because Ron remembers things about people and makes a point to apply it. Ron knows everything about her, he listens to her. He could’ve given her any of the countless too-chunky rings and necklaces left abandoned in town or in this building. But he doesn’t. He finds the thing he knows she’ll wear and gives that to her instead.

So maybe, she’s just a little bit awestruck at how he could love a person like her in such a way. With such careful precision.

She turns around, throws her arms around his neck, and kisses him. His hands find her waist immediately, holding, squeezing as he returns her kiss with ease, remnants of champagne and whiskey mixing on their lips for a moment before they pull away — barely so, because her forehead presses against his and she makes a point to bump their noses.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Daisy breathes out without thinking. But she doesn’t pull away upon realizing what she’s said. She’d rather stare, and she’s glad she doesn’t look away, because he smiles. The rare one, where his eyes crinkle at the corners. Beautiful, breathtaking, rare but still Ron.

“Yeah? You love me?” Ron asks, his voice edging on a tease. It’s like watching years come off him in the span of seconds. He looks so boyish. She nods, cheeks flushing a bit at his tone, but his arms only wrap around her tighter.

“I do.”

He leans forward to kiss her again, briefer than before, but still firm against her.

“Then I love you too,” he mutters, then another kiss. “And when we go home,” kiss, “You know I’m marrying the hell outta you, right?”

Her heart skips a beat.

“Been thinking about that one for a while?” She asks, and Ron squeezes her hips, hazel eyes moving across her features as he examines her face.

“Figured to wait, that you’d want a ring that’s shiny and new and all yours.” And then he waits, leaving it open for her to contradict him — for her to object in any way she sees fit, but she doesn’t.

“You might have a point there.” She watches the way his smile returns.

“So is that a yes?”

Daisy reaches up to take his face in her hands, coarse stubble beneath her palms as she glides her thumbs over his cheekbones. Her turn to begin a sentence with a kiss.

“Ask me again in front of your mother with a ring that’s all mine, and then  you’ll get an answer. Promise.”

Marriage. The thought had always been there — she’d wanted to get married, at some point, to somebody. As a teenager the idea scared her a bit — the thought that she could pick the wrong person clashing with the fantasy in her head of white wedding gowns and her father walking her down the aisle. It only worsened when she found out about the cheating. If she dared think about anything that wasn’t work, or the war, or James, it would tread into territory of her future spouse wrapped up in a secretary or something. Loving someone that wasn’t her.

Ron isn’t just somebody. And the thought of marrying him doesn’t scare her at all. It’s like a piece snapping into place, something sound and correct that she can envision clearly, even if the details are hazy.

One day in a not-so-distant future, he’s going to ask her to marry him. And she’s a hundred percent certain that she’s going to say yes.

The door opens and with that, the whooping and laughter from Harry and Nixon bounce off the walls, bottles of what she can assume is whiskey on ice in a bucket tucked into his arm. She catches Ginny behind the two of them with a small smile on her face, shoulders shaking in laughter.

“There he is! We aren’t interrupting something, are we?” Lew asks, more hypothetical than anything as Ron lets his hands fall to turn around. Ginny, on the other hand, eyes the new piece on Daisy’s neck and gives her a knowing look.

Lew doesn’t wait for an answer, he throws himself on the lounger with a catlike grin, and Harry reaches for one of the bottles.

Ron gives her a look as Harry pops off the cap, and all Daisy does is laugh.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Cook Day

Idea idea! Patton invites all the sides to join him in a cooking day. Shenanigans ensue, preferably fluffy ones – diamond-blade

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none!

Pairings: DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you choose

Word Count: 2193

Patton invites all the sides to join him in a cooking day. Shenanigans ensue.

 "Alright," Roman says, rubbing his hands together as Patton flips through the recipe book, "what are we starting with?"

"Muffins!"

"Excellent. Truly one of the most breakfast foods of all time. What flavor?"

"Blueberry, I think." Patton squints at the recipe book. "Yeah, let's do blueberry. Could you grab the bix mixing bowl out of the cupboard down there?"

"Is it this one? Wait, hold on—oh, god, why are there so many mixing bowls down here?"

"In case we need them, besides, it's an easy thing to tell Janus to look for when he goes to antique stores and saves us from having to find a place for a coat rack with real deer antlers on top of it."

"That's oddly specific." Roman shakes his head, finally producing a white plastic bowl with a black rubber handler. "Is this the bix?"

"Yep! Great, now we need…flour, sugar, oh, just get over here and look," he exclaims when he notices how Roman's not too subtly trying to lean over his shoulder, "you can read too."

"Why, thank you." Roman does indeed peer over his shoulder, taking full opportunity to wrap his arms around his waist in a supportive back-hug. "Alright, so…flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt…do we have a sieve? I don't feel like I've seen it before."

"Um, it should be in that drawer?"

"Oh, this thing! Wait, isn't this a colander?"

"The holes are smaller and it's not designed to drain water as much as it is to, well, be a sieve."

"Is this the things that fancy pastry chefs use to, like…" Roman mimes sieving powdered sugar over the empty muffin tray.

"Yeah, it's the fancy thing."

"Do we get to be fancy with these muffins?"

"We sure do!"

"Oh, they're gonna be so happy they woke up this morning. Let's do it, I'm so hungry already."

2.

"You know, I get why you asked me to do this one now," Remus says gleefully as he holds up the chicken. Gloopy bits of the breading slip off of it like some eldritch slime beast as he puts it on the plate covered in panko bread crumbs. "Both sides, yeah?"

"Yup, that's it. And of course I asked you to help me with this one, you're our resident slime expert!"

"This is remarkably similar to slime, you were right, and it is something I will not be repeating in front of everybody else because I want them to actually enjoy the food we're eating and not be too disgusted by it."

"Thanks, Remus." Patton affectionately bumps their shoulders together as he checks if the oil is hot enough. "Okay, you should be good to start plopping them in."

"Stand back, I don't want any of it to get on you." The chicken sizzles merrily as Remus lays it down in the pan, quickly followed by three more cuts. "I think we should do this in two batches, I don't want to crowd the pan too much."

"Okay. We'll have to be careful with the oil but that should work fine."

"You got the tongs over there? Yeah, you got 'em, great. Do you want me to get to work washing the veggies while you watch this, or…?"

"If you don't mind?" Patton flexes his hands. "I wanna save my hands for the rest of the day since I'm cooking with all of you…is that fine?"

"I wouldn't've offered if it wasn't, Pat-Pat. Scoot over." Remus pats his hip and Patton obligingly steps away from the fridge, letting him reach in and take out a bag of lettuce, a cucumber, a few carrots, and a small container. "Is this the one you were talking about?"

"Yeah, that's them, they should be done by now. You can try one if you want—I know it won't be for everyone but the flavors actually work really well with the salad dressing!"

"So these are just cucumbers in rice vinegar?"

"Rice vinegar, sesame oil, and a bit of honey, yeah."

Remus opens the container and fishes a single slice out, popping it into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. His eyes widen and Patton quickly has to pry the container from his hands.

"They're for the salad, Remus, for the salad!"

"Salad, schmalad, I can have one more now."

"Okay, just one more, then you need to check the chicken."

"Thank you, Pat-Pat."

3.

"Janus, you first!"

Janus grins from the other side of the counter, sauntering over to lift Patton's hand and press a kiss to the back of it. "My dear."

"Okay, no, we're supposed to be cooking, we have an actual job to do." He tries his best to be stern but then Janus winks and he can feel it softening to a pout. "Do you want garlic bread or not?"

"Alright, alright, I'll behave. What do we need to do?"

"The oven's already pre-heating, so we have about—" he checks the timer— "eight minutes to prepare the crust for the pre-bake."

"So we are using pre-made crust."

"Look," Patton sighs, hands on his hips, "I appreciate your culinary standards and while I would love to have the skillset to make a proper pizza crust, I don't have the time or the skills and I want this to taste good, okay?"

"I'm only teasing, sweetie." Janus presses a quick kiss to his forehead before taking the baking sheet from the rack and covering it with baking paper. "Butter before or after?"

"After. It's gotta start to get puffy." Janus unrolls the pre-made crust onto the paper, stretching it to be the proper size and shape just as the preheat timer buzzes. "And you can just put that straight in. That's gotta go for about eight minutes."

He clicks the timer up to '8' and presses START. "Should we prepare the garlic butter and cheese now?"

"Yeah, I'll do the cheese if you do the garlic butter?"

"Sure. Minced, yeah?"

"Uh-huh. And then do we want just mozzarella or mozzarella and parmesan?"

"Both is everyone's favorite flavor, darling."

Patton giggles. "Both it is!"

4.

Logan stands up as Janus slides the garlic bread into the oven for its final baking, passing Janus in the kitchen as Patton sets a pot of water on the stove. He gently sets a hand on Patton's hip and leans down to kiss his shoulder. "Hello, dear one."

"Why are you two being so flirty," Patton mumbles through flushed cheeks, "the rest of them were nice."

Logan chuckles. "You've been working so hard today, is it any wonder that Janus and I want to say thank you?"

"You've been saying thank you already after we've eaten the food. That doesn't explain this." Logan just grins and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. "Okay, okay! Stop, we have work to do."

"You said we had to wait for the water to boil, didn't you?" Logan chuckles and raises his hands in surrender when Patton smacks his shoulder with a dish towel. "Forgive me, I'm done, I'm done."

"Mean."

"Yes, I know, I'm terribly mean to you, dear one." He heeds the warning glare and takes down a bag of pasta from the shelf. "This one, correct?"

"Yeah, that's it. I'm going to wash the zucchini, could you get the spices out?"

"And the olive oil?" Patton nods and he sets the large bottle on the counter. "May I have the zucchini when you're finished?"

"As long as you stop looking at me like that."

Surprisingly, the rest of the cooking goes off without a hitch. Patton adds the pasta to the salted and boiling water as Logan begins to sauté the zucchini, tossing it in the pan in a way that would make most chefs envious. He checks in every so often about how much of the various spices he should be adding, whether the zucchini is tender enough, where the balsamic vinegar went. The pasta boils away merrily, steam curling up from the pot to the top of the stove as Patton sits on the stool he'd brought in at the beginning of the day. Logan hums under his breath as he works, the oil sizzling in the pan.

"Here," he offers as the pasta nears the end of its timer, "come try one?"

"Could you bring it over? My knees—"

"Of course." Logan scoops up a chunk onto the edge of his spatula, holding his hand under it and bringing it over. "Careful, it's hot."

Patton tries it and nods. "Yeah, that's good."

"Wonderful. Do you want me to finish up here while you have a rest?"

"If you don't mind?"

"Of course I don't, dear one. Take a break, you've earned it."

5.

Patton taps the top of the lemon bars as Virgil peers over his shoulder. "Yep, they look good!"

"Great. Lemme bring 'em out and we can put the powdered sugar on."

They reach in and take out the large glass container, peering inside. The visible surface of the bars has a slightly paler yellow, the edges lightly browned. They set it carefully on the counter as Patton brings over the sieve and powdered sugar, holding them out.

"Would you like to do the honors?"

"Do you mind?"

"Nope, not in the slightest!" He waves at them encouragingly. "Go on!"

The powdered sugar falls in measured sprinkles as Virgil taps the sieve against their hand, methodically covering the whole tray. "Thanks for being so accommodating with this, by the way, Pat. I, uh, I know you've had a lot on your plate today so it means a lot."

"Virgil, I wanted to do the cook day, and if doing it with you meant we had to take breaks, then yeah, I was happy to do it. Besides," he continues, leaning on Virgil's shoulder, "I've been craving lemon bars for, like, two weeks."

They chuckle. "Okay, then. I'm sure the others will love them."

"I hope so too! Knife?"

"Yeah, lemme just get these out of the tray and onto the board." They take the parchment paper and carefully lift the bars from the glass, careful not to tear anything, and set the whole thing on a cutting board Patton slides into position under them. "Great. Now, how big do we think?"

"I think it's probably better to cut them smaller so that there isn't a mad scramble for seconds."

"You sound like you speak from experience."

"No, we're thinking about fun things and happy times today, no terrible ones."

"Deal, but you gotta tell about it tomorrow."

"Sure."

+1.

"Those are delicious," Roman mumbles, his mouth still half-full of lemon bar as Virgil sticks the remaining ones back in the fridge, "you guys did a great job."

"Why, thank you." Patton nods to Virgil. "They did all the work, really."

"Nuh-uh, Pat, don't you go selling yourself short."

"You've done wonderfully all day, dear one," Logan adds when Patton starts to protest, "this has been a lovely day. All the food has been delicious and you've been…well, I can't think of the word."

"Logan's right," Remus says, grinning with powdered sugar all over his mustache, "this was a lot of fun! We should totally do it again once everyone's got the spoons."

"I'm glad you guys had fun." He fiddles with the handle of his cane. "I just—I love cooking for you guys so much and I wanted you guys to see what it felt like."

Roman reaches over and ruffles his hair. "You're too sweet, Patton-cake."

"Hear, hear!"

"Guys," Patton says—he does not whine—as the rest of them make vague noises of agreement, "stop it!"

"But you're so cute when you're all blushy," Roman coos, reaching out to cup his face in his hands, "isn't he?"

"Oh my goodness, knock it off!"

"We don't have to cook anymore," Janus purrs, sidling closer on the couch, "so what's stopping us?"

"Do you have any idea how many dishes we have to do?"

"Oh, I got 'em," Virgil calls helpfully from the kitchen, "Remus, come help!"

"Wait, no—"

"Guess that leaves the four of us," Logan says softly, sitting on the coffee table just in front of Patton who is dealing very well with the three of them suddenly doing whatever this is, "whatever shall we do to pass the time?"

"Anything else!" Patton buries his face in his hands. "Literally anything else!"

"You look cute enough to eat," Janus whispers, chuckling when Patton shoves his shoulder weakly, "doesn't he?"

"Guys!"

"Do you really want us to stop?" Roman nods when Patton mumbles out a yes, softening and reaching out to pull him into a cuddle. "Just relax, then, Patton-cake, you've done so much today."

"Here, give me your hand," Janus murmurs, "they're sore, yeah?"

"Yeah." He hums sleepily when Janus starts massaging his hand. "Thanks."

"You can close your eyes," Logan adds when he notices Patton's energy going down, "you've done enough for today."

As he drifts off there on the couch, he thinks that he can't wait for the next cook day.

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[bluejaysandblackbats]

Space Oddity

Fandom: DC Comics, Titans (Fab Five)

Summary: Garth grew up in a carnival freakshow, and he never thought about the world outside the glass walls of the Aquarium until a group of kids befriended him. Their love and interest in finding his people might be the key to escaping the silent horrors of his home life at the carnival.

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Garth of Shayeris, Donna Troy, Wally West, Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Original Character(s)

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tags: Carnival AU, Developing Friendships, Rescue, 60's AU, 70's AU, No Capes AU, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Childhood Trauma, Lies, Escape, Childhood Memories, Team Bonding, Fish out of Water, Tiny Garth, Beaches, Angst with a Happy Ending, Found Family, Road Trip, First Person POV, POV Garth of Shayeris

Chapter Two: Tapped Glass

I saw the little girl the day after we met, but she wasn’t with the older girl. She was with Fisher, and she carried two little baskets with her. I watched as Fisher and the little girl spoke to each other, and he escorted her up the stepladder. He’d never done that before. She looked to Fisher for reassurance, and he nodded, gesturing for her to go. She waved at me from the top of the ladder as she dropped a basket into the water. I didn’t grab it right away. I swam behind my cave and broke off a piece of blue microalgae to give to her. I didn’t poke my head above the water. But I got to feel her hand. I hesitated a moment before letting go and opening my basket. She’d gifted me a basket of big strange-colored apples. I’d never had an apple that color before.

She opened her basket and ate an apple of her own. She gave me the go-ahead, and I bit into mine. It was the sweetest, juiciest apple I’d ever eaten. I sank to the bottom of the tank and sat cross-legged across from her eating it. I’ll never forget that moment. I’ll never forget the little girl in her red flower dress and her big strange-colored apple. I was still hungry from missing supper despite having breakfast, so the apple filled my belly enough to put a smile on my face. I only ate one apple, though. It felt selfish to keep them all to myself, so I decided to stash away the rest for the others at dinnertime. She politely wrapped her apple in a napkin afterward, and I copied her by wrapping my apple in kelp. She giggled, covering her mouth with one hand. I never noticed the flash of cameras. I only saw the pictures a few months after she’d gone when the Aquarium got more crowded than it should’ve been for fall. Fisher yanked me out of the tank in the early morning and showed me myself and the girl on the cover of a magazine.

I was still shaking from being fished out of the tank in the middle of my sleep. I couldn’t hear Fisher, but he popped a cherry sour into my mouth. I smiled at the taste. I rarely received candy, so I knew I must’ve done something spectacular. “We’re keeping lunch in the tank, Fishy,” Fisher smiled.

“Could I have another?” I asked.

“Have the whole bag, Fishy,” Fisher grinned as he gave me the small candy pouch.

“Did you get candy for the others?” I questioned. Fisher nodded.

“This is all yours-.”

Howard, the clown, stormed in. I could tell he was upset because his makeup ran down his face. “Fisher! My act-.”

“What about your act, Howard?” Fisher asked.

“This isn’t something I should say in front of Fish. You can’t expect me to relay such painful-.”

“Howard! I’ll cover the kid’s ears. Just say it!” Fisher shouted as he took my candy and dropped me into the tank. I swam out of sight to the other side of the Aquarium to listen without being seen. “What is it, Howie?”

“Sonny is dead,” Howard whispered.

Fisher sighed. “That is a problem…” Fisher sucked his teeth. “You wanna use Fishy? We could put some of that waterproof makeup on him.”

“What about his show in the tank?” Howard asked.

“You’ll do your show in here with him… You can use him for a morning show and an afternoon show. Can you handle going solo in between the morning and afternoon stuff?” Fisher asked.

“He’ll be okay with that?” Howard asked.

Howard left, and Fisher walked around the Aquarium, searching for me. I poked my head above the water, and Fisher whistled. I want you to take Sonny’s place for a few days. We’ll close down, so Howie can teach you the routine,” Fisher explained.

I waited for Fisher to climb up the stepladder and pick me up. I wanted to tell him I was scared. I wanted to tell him I didn’t want to do it. Instead, I asked a single question. “What about today?”

He returned my candy to me and rubbed my back. “Today, we operate like normal. I want you to play the same as you always do. Can you do that for me?” Fisher asked. I nodded. For reasons I couldn’t comprehend, I was Fisher’s special boy for that short time.

And I met a special boy too! He came in the early morning with a man and woman with a camera and a pointy hat like Howard wore as Giggles. He approached the tank when he saw me and waved as if we were longtime friends. I smiled and waved. He said something, and I tapped my ears. He tapped his camera and pointed at me. No one ever asked for permission to photograph me before. I nodded and let him take pictures of me, and the man and woman said something before he turned to them. The man took pictures of the woman, the boy, and me. Then, he followed me around my tank. I swam faster and let him chase me around the Aquarium until I swam face-first into the glass. My nose gushed blood, startling me, and I swam behind a cluster of sea plants so he couldn't see me crying. He stood close to the glass and said something, and I tapped my ears, explaining that I couldn't hear him.

He held his finger up, and I nodded. He turned to the man and woman while I held my nose. The woman gave him a writing pad, and he scrawled something. He held the pad up to the glass. The words read, "Can you read?" I nodded. None of the guests tried communicating with me while I was in the tank. He wrote something else. "Are you okay? I'm sorry you hurt your face."

I gave him a thumb's up. "What's your name? My name is Wally."

I fogged up the glass and spelled my name. Wally cocked his head, and the lady held a mirror to the glass before saying something. He nodded.

"My uncle wants someone to check your nose. Is that okay?"

I nodded. It still hurt and wouldn't stop bleeding. Fisher came and tapped the glass with one finger. Morse code. “Hurt?” Fisher asked.

“Yes,” I tapped in reply.

“Want Doc?” Fisher asked.

“No,” I replied.

Fisher smiled at me before turning toward Wally and his family. Wally came toward the glass and wrote something else before scribbling it out. After a while of him doing that, he finally held a message to the glass. “I like you a lot. I’m coming back tomorrow.”

I wrote in the glass again. “Can’t wait!” The woman held her mirror to my message. Wally grinned. He waved at me, and I waved back.

Once he was out of sight, I said his name to myself. “Wally.” I twirled in the water until I made my own small tornado.

[bellysoupset]

OMG, I love Vince taking care of Leo even though he's in pain. In my opinion, their friendship is EVERYTHING!!

I really want to see when Jonah comes home and is like "What the--?" and he takes care of Leo before Vince admits that he's in a lot of pain and Jon helps him then. And if Jonah is really tired after a long day and gets to cuddle with Leo after he's done taking care of Vince or something like that.

Alright, alright! Part 2 - No emeto, just lots of hurt/comfort.

------------------

Lucas: How are they?? If you need I can come over, I'm feeling better now

Lucas: Jon answer me pls

Lucas: Vin isn't picking up his phone and i'm worried

Lucas: oh nvm. you're still at work

Lucas: 😅😅😅 sorry

Lucas: please text me once u get home, i wanna know about them

Jonah stared at the string of texts as he removed his white doctor coat and folded it, putting it away in his bag. This was... Worrying.

He clicked out of Lucas' conversation and onto Leo's contact. Leo's last text had been that morning, him saying they were going out to the community baseball game. Maybe Lucas didn't know? Maybe he hadn't been invited?

He clicked out again, then on Vin's contact. There was no green dot next to his picture. His last text had been three days before, a picture he had taken of Leo, passed out on the dinner table, with the books all around him.

This was all very weird.

He was already concerned, made worse when he got home and Leo's car wasn't in it's designated parking spot. So they were still out?

Jonah fished out his phone again, clicking on Leo's contact and calling as soon as the elevator came to a stop on his floor. Only to hear the phone ringing through the door.

Had Leo forgotten the phone home?

He pushed the door open, "Leo? Vin?"

There was a groan and Jonah quickly hit the end-call button, setting his work bag on the floor and walking to the living room area.

Vince had Leo's head on his lap and the blonde seemed to be asleep. He was a shade paler than normal and curled up on himself.

"What the---?" Jon started to ask, but Vince shushed him by pressing a finger to his own lips.

"Casper the friendly ghost here is allergic to sun," he whispered, teasingly and Jonah raised his eyebrows, sitting on the edge of the couch.

"What happened?" he whispered back, studying them both. Vince also looked his own share of awful: he was pale and clammy, pained lines next to his eyes.

"He got heatstroke when we were out in the game. Luke drove us back."

"How long ago?"

"A couple hours."

Jonah hummed, then reached in so he could touch Leo's neck and cheek. His skin was still worryingly dry, "did he pass out?"

"Almost. Threw up a bunch."

Jon sighed, then touched his boyfriend's shoulder, gently, "Leo," he whispered, shaking him lightly, "baby, wake up."

It took some more shaking, but then Leo opened his eyes, blinking quickly to situate himself. He rolled onto his back, head still on Vin's lap and groaned.

"Welcome to the land of the living, Casper," Vince teased lightly, a big hand pushing his blonde hair back and Leo closed his eyes, almost drifting back to sleep, wasn't it for Jon tapping his arm.

"Leo," he called, a little stronger, "you're still super dehydrated, baby, I need you to drink some water for me."

"Uhm, no," Leo grimaced, rolling away from him and shoving his face on Vince's stomach, causing the man to wince. Jonah studied Vin's face, making a mental note to check up on him in a bit, then grabbed his boyfriend's arm, forcing him to roll back around.

"Yes," he said strongly, "you need some water in you and a cold bath, c'mon."

"Not gonna stay down, my stomach hurts," Leo groaned, wrapping his arm around his belly and squeezing, "please, Jon-"

"Sorry, love, no can do," Jonah said in a sympathetic manner, then grabbed both his arms, pulling Leo on a sitting down position. The blonde groaned again and fell forward, as if he had no strength on his spine, forehead meeting Jon's chest.

"I really don't feel well, Jon."

"I know, baby, I know. This is going to help," he moved to wrap an arm around Leo's waist and then threw the man's right arm around his shoulders, pulling him up, "c'mon, Leo."

"Hold on," Vince said, using the couch to pull himself up.

"Sit back down, I can handle h-" Jonah started to say, only to be forced to swallow those words down as Leo gagged softly next to him, whole body jerking with an empty heave.

"I'll sit down in a moment," Vin said, his voice strained, and used his good arm to hold on to Leo, "c'mon, let's get him to the bathroom."

It was no easy feat: between Leo's nauseous, dizzy state and Vince's limping, punctuated by hisses, they took almost ten minutes to fully get Leo inside the master suite's bathroom and undressed down to his boxers.

"Jon," Leo moaned, his head lolling like a baby's and forehead meeting his boyfriend's bicep, "Jon, this is awful."

"Yeah, but you're gonna be fine in no time," Jon said, turning up the water. All of the cold tap, a little bit of the warm, in order to avoid the thermic shock, "how's your stomach?"

"Queasy," Leo sighed, then slid down the bathtub, relief appearing on his face, "uhm, this feels nice."

"I know," Jon said in a fond manner, kissing the top of his head, "I'm going to get you some water, alright?" he glanced past his shoulder, to where Vince had sat down heavily on the closed toilet and was panting for air, "can you keep an eye on him? Just so he doesn't drown."

"Yeah, don't worry," Vince said, raising a thumb up and Jonah rolled his eyes. He was beyond worried.

Against his will he stepped out of the bathroom and got to it. He removed the comforter from their bed and turned on the A/C, to chill down the room, then went to the kitchen. Instead of water he grabbed a gatorade bottle and then, just for precaution, a bucket in the laundry room. He returned to the bedroom and put both items next to the bed, then laid down the largest towel they had on the bed, with another one on top just to be sure.

He entered the bathroom back again and snorted. Leo seemed to have fallen asleep once more and Vince was leaning back on the toilet, mask slipping since there was no one to see him. His face was wrinkled with pain.

"What hurts?" Jon asked, deciding Leo wasn't as urgent as long as he didn't slip and drown in the tub, crouching before Vince.

"Nothing," he opened his eyes and they did him a disservice, with how red they were, "just due my meds I guess."

"You're way due your meds," Jon agreed, then pushed Vince's arm out of the way and his shirt up, "and I think you burst one stitch."

"Just my luck," Vince scoffed, rubbing a hand over his face, "I'm fine, Jon-"

"Are you nauseous?" Jonah frowned at him, ignoring the reassuring lies, "you look a little green."

"It's just the pain," Vince sighed, "I'm fine-"

"Did you eat anything today? You can't take the pills on an empty stomach."

Vince's mouth snapped shut and then he winced, shaking his head no, "neither of us did. We were going out to eat after the game, but..." he trailed off, shrugged and then hissed, since he had forgotten about the wounded shoulder.

"Got it," Jonah sighed, then patted Vince's thigh, "c'mon, lean on me. Let's get you in your room."

"But Leo-"

"Isn't going anywhere, we'll be quick," Jon got up from his crouched down position and let Vince drape his good arm around his shoulders, huffing with his weight. Even if Vince looked considerably skinny now, he was still a giant.

They stumbled back to the guest room, that Vin had completely taken over and Jonah tried to gently put him down, but basically they both fell into bed. Vince let out a groan, his back melting against the pillows.

"Better..."

"Okay, hang in there. I'm gonna get you something to eat, I just need to move Leo first."

"You should've let me help, he's basically boneless."

"I can figure," Jon rolled his eyes, "stay put. try getting out of the shirt while I check on him."

He rushed back to the bathroom, but Leo was still in the same exact position, chest rising and falling comfortably now that he was in the cold water.

Jon sighed, deciding he was not going to drown if left alone and rushed back out.

"I got you a sandwich," Jon said, walking into the room and holding it out. He raised an eyebrow, "you actually manage to strip the shirt on your own, I'm impressed."

Vince cracked a pained smile, "the little buttons are a pain in the ass, but they're not impossible..." he grimaced as he glanced the sandwich, "do I have to?"

"If you want to take the painkillers, yeah," Jon rolled his eyes, passing him the sandwich, "small bites, okay? I'm sure part of the nausea is because you didn't eat today."

"Maybe..." Vince sighed, taking the tiniest, daintiest bite, "so doc?"

"You definitely burst a stitch," Jonah winced in sympathy, "but I can shut it with a butterfly bandage, at least until tomorrow for your check up."

"Don't remind me," Vince groaned, queasiness written all over his face.

"Your foot can't be feeling good," Jonah mumbled, grabbing a spare pillow and putting it under Vince's left calf, elevating the foot, "with all the jumping around... How are your ribs?"

"I'll live."

"So hurting like a bitch," Jon extrapolated, causing his friend to snort and take another bite, not confirming or denying.

"Eat your sandwich. I'm gonna be right back... Please, try to keep it down."

"Yes, don't worry," Vince mumbled, shooing him off.

Jon rolled his shoulders. They were stiff with tension already.

Leo had woken up or was starting to, just as Jon walked into the bathroom. He smiled, getting a glimpse of the exact moment Leo realized he was there and his whole body relaxed.

"Hey..." he said, voice scratchy, "I feel better."

"Good," Jon smiled, sitting on the edge of the tub, "scared the hell out of me, baby."

"Sorry," Leo sighed, then touched his forehead and frowned, "is there... Sand in my hair?"

"Dried sweat," Jonah cringed, "c'mon, move, let me wash your hair."

He stripped the pants down and moved behind Leo, sitting on the edge of the tub and using the shower head to wet it. The cold water caused the blonde to shudder.

"This feels amazing."

"I can imagine..." Jonah grabbed the bottle of shampoo sitting inside the shower glass stall, having to stretch to grab it, then put a dollop on top of Leo's greasy hair, starting to work it in.

"Oh, I get to use your fancy shampoo today?" Leo teased as he smelled it, "you were really scared, uh?"

Jonah rolled his eyes, "shut up, Leo," he said with a smile, rubbing his fingertips on his scalp with a little more force and eliciting a moan.

He washed the shampoo off, then combed conditioner through it, despite Leo scoffing and saying he never used conditioner and didn't need it.

"Okay, feels better now?"

"Much," Leo sighed, running a hand through his now clean hair, "thank you, Jon..."

"Let's get you in bed, you need to drink something. Eat too," Jonah said, getting out of the tub and drying his feet on the mat, "here, hold on to me."

Leo held on his shoulders to get up, almost falling and trembling like a puppy as Jon wrapped the large towel around him, helping him stumble to the bedroom.

"I'm cold now..."

"Good," Jonah said, going through his clothes and then pushing Leo's arms up, shoving a sweater down his head, "how's your stomach feeling?"

"Better," Leo sighed, then glared down at his lap, "Was Vince... Did Vince see me naked?" his face burned red and Jonah chuckled.

"You've seen Vince's dick more than mine lately, he can live having seen yours once," Jon scoffed, holding out a pair of boxers to him, "lie down, I'm gonna check on him and get you something to eat."

"Get something for you too..." Leo yawned against his hand, "what time is it?"

"No idea," Jonah shrugged, walking to the door, "almost eight?"

Which meant Vince had missed two doses of painkillers. No wonder he was so pasty.

Jonah walked back in the guest room and noticed the sandwich was gone and the water bottle had moved, "I already took the meds," Vince said sleepily, "two of 'em."

"Two?" Jonah groaned, pinching his nose bridge, "Vince, you're not supposed to double dose when you miss one..."

"Uhm," he blinked heavily, "it hurt, though..."

Jon sighed, grabbing the pill bottle and trying to remember just how worried he should be with this medication in particular. Deciding it wasn't that much of a big deal, he tugged at the blanket and threw it over Vince's legs, opening the bedside table's drawer - which had become a mini hospital - and grabbing a strip of butterfly bandages.

"Turn, let me put this one down... It's gonna pinch a little," he said, manhandling Vince to face him and pinching the burst stitch together, gluing it shut. Jon pulled back, "you're good? You need anything?"

"I'm fine, thanks..." Vince's voice was all soft and sleepy, "how's Leo?"

"Much better," Jonah smiled, "get some rest..."

"Uhum," Vince yawned, head falling to the side, the double dosages of painkillers hitting him like a truck.

Jonah rolled his eyes at the sight and continued on, despite his whole body wishing he would just stop.

He grabbed a cup of instant noodles in the kitchen and heated up some soup for Leo, yawning against his fist as he waited for both to be ready. In the meantime he texted Lucas back.

Jon: i'm home, they're both fine.

He pressed send and immediately shut his phone off, not in the mood to handle Luke's hysterics at the moment. Then went back to his bedroom, now holding a bowl of soup and his own super hot cup-noodles.

"I thought you hated those," Leo said, yawning as he walked in.

"I do, but I'm too lazy to cook now," Jonah passed him the soup, "eat slowly, you don't wanna throw it back up."

"I'm fine now, I swear," Leo said, stirring the soup, "how's Vin?"

"High as a kite," Jonah snickered, getting in bed and starting to eat, moving as close to Leo as he could. He felt his boyfriend slump against him, resting his head on Jon's shoulder.

"Thank you," he said softly, turning his head to press a kiss on his shoulder, "for taking care of us."

Jonah's cheeks burned and he opted for kissing Leo's forehead, instead of answering.