(Note literally everything you will read here is unedited and just copy/pasted from wherever it was before. take it as you will idk if you want to make use of these or not as im not writing for this fandom anymore yah yeet)
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Luke froze in place, a child balanced on each hip. That was definitely a scream he just heard. That's not a good sign at all, and it's a wonder that neither Bryce nor Brock woke up from that. He looks around nervously. It's literally a minute walk from the parking lot to the street, and then another minute to get to Jonathan's apartment.

How does one run into trouble on such a small trip? Damn Jonathan for living in such a freaky neighborhood.

Then again, his boys are probably weighing him down. He pauses his walking to readjust his two kids on either side of him, silently thanking genetics for keeping them both relatively small compared to him. He's not sure how he would've managed otherwise.

A second noise is heard. Luke does not dare ask questions. All he does is walk faster, coming up to the door of the expensive looking apartment building. He huffs bitterly as he realizes it's, of all things, a fucking pull door.

That's not so bad. He's carried them like this before and still gotten inside. Though... That's usually because Jonathan is already down here waiting for his kids. Right.

He looks through the big glass doors. Nobody's there. That's not good.

Luke takes a moment to think this through. He could always wake one kid up and ask them to open the door. Or could call Jon... wait, that requires free hands. Shit.

"You, uh, need a hand there?" A warm, smooth voice calls to Luke from behind. Luke can easily hear the smugness in his voice.

He turns around and nearly drops his kids. The guy behind him is wearing a mask on his face, a bloody mask, mind you, and has big, wet red splotches all over his clothing. Not to mention, you know, a knife sticking out of his pocket.

Luke narrows his eyes, feeling his Paternal Instinct™ kick in almost instantaneously. "Excuse you?"

"I asked if you need a hand," the stranger explains with a grin. He gestures to Brock and Bryce, both fast asleep and completely oblivious to the situation at hand. "I don't think you'll be getting that door open anytime soon. Just figured I'd be a gentleman and open the door, you know? Especially for such a handsome man."

He rolls his eyes. "I doubt I'm the one who needs help. You look like you need a goddamn bandage or two."

"It's not mine," he says, as if it's a good thing. "Don't worry, I wouldn't hurt such a cute little thing. Wouldn't hurt the kids, either."

The stranger opens the door for him. Luke eyes him cautiously, using the same look he gives the boys when they're in trouble. That classic Disappointed Dad Look, the one that he's nearly perfected over the past few years.

He shakes his head. "I doubt the bloody knife in your pocket is yours either, huh?" His voice comes out much more rude than intended, and it startles him slightly.

Bryce shifts on his side, face burrowing further into Luke's shoulder. Luke takes this as a sign that he needs to hurry up, and walks inside. He turns to the guy, and is met with a guilty look.

Why he looks guilty is beyond Luke, but it makes him feel a bit bad regardless. He hadn't meant to sound so rude, it's just that he's tired and his arms are hurting and-

“Luke! Oh my god, I'm so dam- so sorry!” Jonathan comes running out into the tiny lobby, quickly scooping up one of the boys. Jon's brother, Tyler, is behind him, and looks only mildly surprised when Jon sets Bryce into his arms. He then takes Brock and smiles nervously. "I fell asleep, I'm so sorry I didn't come down to open the-"

"It's fine," Luke says, offering a smile. He's not so sure how natural it looks, but his ex-husband seems to buy it. "I've really gotta get going, I took today off for Brock and all that. You know where his school is, right?"

Jonathan nods eagerly. "Of course! I'm- I'm super fuckin' sorry for making you keep them so long," he says, as if it had been a burden on Luke. "I had work too, you know? I promise I won't have to make you do this again! That- that damn hoochie of a boss made me stay late, and..."

"Papa," Bryce whines. "Shush your face."

Luke instinctively turns to scold him. But Bryce is almost instantly asleep again, his head resting on Tyler's shoulder as he grabs a fist full of shirt. He feels his heart clench lightly, an unidentifiable sort of emotion stirring within him.

"You should... you should go, Luke," Jonathan mumbles, readjusting Brock in his arms. "You said you have to be busy all day tomorrow and Wednesday, so... I'll br ing them back on Thursday afternoon, a'ight? After school."

He wants to say something here, he really does. It's not his fault if he thinks Jonathan looks good in sweatpants and a t-shirt, you know? The shirt is riding up his side, and his hair is sticking up in messy waves around him. He looks... good. Well rested. Attractive. Kinda like he did when they first...

"Yeah. I'll go." Luke smiles again, and then does as he said and walks out the front doors. The warm air of early September is comfortable, and it helps him relax as he leans against the wall of the building and groans in frustration.

Someone needs to help him, seriously. It's been three months and he's still as lovesick as ever, it seems, and he's not sure how to make it stop. Are people normally this hung up over an ex-husband? He really hopes not.

In his defense, he's pretty sure having two kids together gives one a reason to be upset about a divorce. Brock had been, technically, Jonathan's child. Biologically, of course, from some magical genetic science baby-birthing stuff. Luke still has no idea how it worked, he just knows that Brock is biologically Jonathan's child and sure looks lile it.

Bryce... well, Bryce is Luke's kid. Bryce was an accident from some drunken affair back in college, about three years ago. His mother, despite having explicitly stated that she wanted baby Bryce, had dropped him off one day and just... left.

Of course, Luke took him in. It took a bit of paperwork, but Bryce is legally under Luke's custody. And when they divorced, Luke got main custody of Brock due to certain circumstances. But for all he loves his boys... he's fairly certain he loves Jonathan just as much, regardless of whether Jonathan loves him back or not.

Why Jonathan left him is something he doesn't understand. Maybe two children was too much? Maybe Luke was a bad husband? Or maybe, just maybe, Jonathan wasn't ready for commitment. Was it him, or something else?

He sighs to himself. Life is frustrating, and children do not help. He's overthinking this again and he knows it. Luke pulls himself off the wall, taking a deep breath and beginning to walk back to the car.

"Where are the kids?" The same voice from earlier rings out besides him, making Luke jump. "Please tell me you didn't just forget your kids."

Luke glares at the man, crossing his arms and biting back a string of curses. "Why are you still here? What do my kids matter to you?"

"Nothing, really," the stranger hums, shrugging his shoulders. "You're kinda hot, and I noticed that your kids vanished. Is it a crime to like attractive guys carrying kids?"

"What, me and my dad body?"

----

Luke sighs. “Bryce, we gotta go. Brock's first day of school begins in, what, twenty minutes? Take one of your other stuffed animals, honey,” Luke suggests. He holds up a stuffed cat, bright purple and with a bowtie on. He forgot the name to this particular animal, but he knows it's not Charles.

(Charles is a little lavender chicken, maybe about the side of Luke's hand and with a horribly disfigured face. His eyes are both on the left side of his face, one lower than the other, and his beak, if you'd even call it that, is questionably small. Still, Bryce fell in love with it, so who was Luke to say no?)

Bryce seems to ponder over this for a moment, before sighing overdramatically and taking the cat with both hands. “Okay. I guess I'm ready.”

“Alright, baby, that's great!” Luke happily ushers Bryce and Brock into the car. He glances at the clock- they have a solid fifteen minutes left, and it'll only take them about five to get to the school. That's pretty good time, actually, because normally Bryce is much less of a morning person.

For all he loves his boys, there are some things he knows he shouldn't let them do on their own. Bryce dressing himself is one of them. It normally doesn't happen, but today Luke was too tired to argue.

(He now realizes he left his coffee inside. Well, fuck.)

Brock whines faintly from the backseat. “Daddy, I wanna have music.”

“Of course.” He obliges, turning on the radio to whatever goes on first. Might as well let Brock get hyped for today.

He will not deny that he smiles like an idiot when he hears Brock cheer happily. It stays like this for a couple more minutes (damn traffic), and they pull into the cute little school with time to spare.

There's a tiny gasp. “Are- are we here?”

“Yeah, we are-”

“Yay!” Brock cheers again, this time nearly smacking Bryce in the face when he waves his arms around wildly.

Thankfully, Bryce is fast asleep in his car seat, buckled in nice and tight with his stuffed animal hugged to his chest. Luke notices how his shirt is on backwards, he

-----
"Okay. I had breakfast with you. Can you leave now?" Luke finds himself giving the killer, Ohm, as he called himself, a stern gaze. It's his best angry face- he's been practicing it for years now.

And yet it doesn't seem to do a thing. Ohm chuckles, pulling all the trash into a small pile on the dining table. "Mm.. maybe. Can I get your name?"

"You stole my wallet and hunted me down by my driver's license. How do you not know my name?!" Luke is calling bullshit, and he's calling it loud.

Ohm grins. "Aww, you caught me. I just wanted your attention. I'll go if I'm bothering you this much, you know? Have a nice day, Lukey! I'll see you later!"

Ohm blows a kiss in Luke's direction as he gets up and heads out the front door. He even throws the trash away on his way out. What a fucking gentleman.

Luke stares after him, cursing to himself as he watches a simple blue car drive away. What the actual fuck just happened? It's been a while since Luke's actually bothered with romance, so his senses might be rusty, but... he's pretty damn sure that a serial killer just tried to seduce him, a single fucking father, with breakfast tacos and coffee.

That's a bit unsettling. Actually, it's a lot unsettling, now that Luke thinks about it. Is he gonna be able to keep the kids safe like this? What will he do with this killer that's no doubt going to come back? Luke can't just call the cops. Who would beleive him? He's seen them struggle to determine whether something is a crime or not, how can he expect them to hunt down an unseen killer?

He sighs to himself. He'll just have to hope that next time, Ohm brings extra breakfast. He doubts that Ohm will not meet the kids next time, whenever that may be.

Better yet, maybe there won't be a next time at all. That would be nice.

---

Being a father means a lot of things. It, for the most part, depends on who you are or what kind of children you have. In Luke's case, being a father means being very patient and very understanding of his childrens' drastically different personalities.

Brock is sweet. Very bubbly and happy, and with a tender heart. He cries over everything, the poor baby, and he loves his friends and his family.

Bryce.... Bryce is an experience. Maybe he's just at that age, you know,