#hide your kids hide any numbers you need to divide

[littlemizzlinguistics]

My brain: okay baby girl (gender-neutral), you’re gonna be slightly better than average at language-learning

Me: 😃

Brain: but you’re also gonna be so bad at math that you shouldn’t ever be trusted with anything relating to numbers.

Me: 🫠

[ronearoundblindly]

So Ari used to comfort us when you BF had left. So when our ex bf is into and we accidently run into them saw the bar or gas station and were in qris car and tty the whole duck down thing or hiding out of site thing how does Ari react and say we see him another time days later at the bar with Ari within king he had have left so our guard was down but nope what does Ari do? We all know he's territorial as hell with us especially with how we were hurt the first time

Ah yes, Philip. Warnings for language and no* editing. WC 1.8k (which is apparently my magic number...)

Run In, a Bedrock and Blueprints drabble long drabble tale

Not that long after you insist Ari moves in, you two are out getting groceries at the local supermarket. You normally divide the list in chunks by area of the store, so you're rounding a tall-shelved aisle when WHAM! It's Philip, your ex and the reason you know Ari, right in your face.

Maybe three sentences total are spoken. Your stomach is so knotted up in shock and a kind of hot fear that you're not entirely sure what you say, but Phil's face is placid enough. The words must cause no offense because he waves and walks away without incident.

You're sweating bullets, glancing over your shoulder every ten feet down the refrigerated section. You don't need the bag of frozen french fries, but sticking your head in the cold storage to carefully check the label is a welcome reprieve.

Ari meets you at the self-check-out as planned, a soft smile tucking the seam of his bread together when he's caught thumbing through the candy. The man likes snacks, sweet or savory; he just can't help it.

"Grabbed some extra to make your favorite tonight. You'll have plenty for lunch tomorrow, too," he adds casually, starting to scan all the gathered things. "We didn't need more leftover containers, did we? Can't remember if we ever found enough lids for the red ones."

Ari doesn't notice you constantly scanning the area behind you.

"Hey," he interrupts your panicking brain, "you got the coupons for this?"

"Yeah," you bluster, quickly digging in your purse for the little stack of papers. "Yeah, here."

You think it's over and start to breathe easier in the open air outside, loading the bags into the truck bed and sliding onto the leather seat.

Ari turns on the car and frowns. "Better fill up on gas while we're out."

"Okay," you chirp absently. Any distance from the store is still distance, or so you think until you see Philip right there at the next pump.

You flatten yourself so fast onto that seat that it squeaks and you bounce slightly. Ari's already gotten out of the car, and if he's facing the tank, then he's also facing away from Philip. He might not notice a thing.

But if he's facing the pump...

"Levinson?!"

Oh, shit, Ari, don't be stupid. Don't be stupid. Don't mention me. Please.

Your cheek is suctioned to the leather you're so squished down.

Ari must have walked over to Philip because all you hear are deep, muffled voices and three words:

"Saw her..."

"...inside?"

The mumbling changes in pitch and volume a few more times, a much longer conversation than you had with Philip minutes ago, but after a bit, the pump catches full, and you hear Ari close the cap.

He opens the driver's side door but keeps looking past the hood.

"See ya around," Ari calls back.

"Hope so, Levs," comes the far-off reply.

Ari jumps in and starts the truck, looking both ways like he's driving completely normal, alone, like there isn't a crazy woman pancaked on his seat. After pulling out of the parking lot, he sighs.

"I assume you were gonna tell me you saw him eventually."

Gently raising yourself upright, you rub at your arm.

"He surprised me--"

"--yeah," Ari scoffs, "me, too."

"--and I...I didn't know what to say."

He stays quiet, artfully navigating familiar streets and thinking, but his expression is inscrutable.

"You think I knew what to say? Kid, he abandoned you. He never even apologized, and now I had to see him as your boyfriend and be blindsided that you'd already talked?!"

"We didn't talk, Ari. I said maybe two things to him. Pleasantries. I can't even remember because he just--" you slap your hands together "--was there."

Ari huffs, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel with white knuckles. "I know," he whispers. "I get it. I'm sure it's worse for you than for me, but... I want to throttle the guy."

"He was your friend, too, Ar--"

"You were a better friend than Phil ever was," he bursts. "Ya know, after the first time he brought you out, we thought you were out of his league. Like you were too nice and quiet and put together. Then you hung out a few more times, and José finally made a joke that you were too cool for him. Philip was a loser compared to you. All of us thought you were too good for him full stop."

Ari drops one hand from the wheel and searches for yours, weaving your fingers together. "That was before he even left...the first time."

You're stunned.

"Then Phil was gone and so were you," he continues, squeezing your hand, "but we only missed you." Ari shrugs. "Somebody had to drive you back to the bar so we could hang out."

"And you drew the short straw," you mutter.

"There were no straws. I volunteered."

All this time, you thought that Ari, José, and Dimitri used to tolerate you out of loyalty to Philip. You thought maybe Philip had told them to watch out for you while he was deployed, and you knew that changed eventually. You couldn't pinpoint the shift though; there was no moment where one or more of them said "you're our friend now, not Phil's girl," but you did know they at least pitied you when Philip left for good. After all, they were mourning the loss of their friend, too, right?

It took years to feel like Ari wasn't just driving you around out of obligation--partly because he always grumbled about being your 'chauffeur'--but here he is telling you they'd all have chosen you over Philip, possibly even if Philip never left but simply moved on from you. The comfort of that thought radiates through you like the warmth from Ari's hand in yours.

Apart from the odd remark or two, Philip is forgotten again after that night. You have so much history beyond him and a future without him.

Two and a half weeks later, of course, you're not expecting to see Philip sidle up to your table with the boys at the bar--the bar, the original haunt that you inherited in the divorce essentially--and José and Dimitri are duly surprised as well.

"Where the hell you been, brother?"

"They ain't got phones out there?"

Philip is bashful, remorseful in a way that seems more like him before his first deployment, and it is genuinely nice to see. You keep silent anyway, unable to think of something overtly nice or generic to say.

Ari's arm is around your shoulders as it usually is in this booth, but then his hand squeezes your shoulder, and he leans unnecessarily close to your ear.

"Can you scoot to let me out, baby," he asks, voice low and deep. "I'll get us another round."

Before you can move, Ari plants a quick kiss on your neck, knowing full well that his beard tickles right there, and makes you shiver.

After he's standing, Phil's face is questioning, eyes wide, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, Ari taps his shoulder.

He ticks his head toward Patrick behind the bar. "Need a beer, buddy? I'm buying."

Phil snorts and follows.

"I'll be damned. Ari Levinson offering to pay for a drink? You sure changed."

"It's been a long eight and a half years," Ari groans, flagging down Patrick and ordering.

It takes more time for the drinks to arrive than it takes Phil to start in, glancing conspicuously over at the booth.

"What'd you do, Ari? Jump right into my place? Did my plane even touchdown before you went for her?"

"I went to tell her you left. There's a difference."

"Never thought of you as a sloppy seconds guy. Did your dick happen to fall in--"

"Finish that fucking sentence if you'd like to be toothless," Ari growls, making a point to plaster a smile on his face since you can likely see them in profile from here.

"I'm just saying I wouldn't want to be a rebound."

"No, Phil, what you should want to be is a man, but instead, you were a piece of shit." Ari doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that it took almost the entirety of those eight and a half years to thoroughly move on from the people Phil left behind, but he's still pissed.

"Hell, I was a piece of shit, too, for years, but I stayed when I could. I was also a piece of shit who noticed that that girl is worth way more than yours--or my--ego, so if you so much as blink in a way that makes her uncomfortable--" he throws a glance to the exit "--I will hand you your ass outside and make you eat dirt. We clear?"

"Levs, why are you being like this? Man, you never cared about chicks this much."

"You wanna know what changed me," Ari hisses, pointing over at the booth, uncaring if any of you are watching, fake smile long gone. "That changed me. She changed me. She's the type of woman worth changing for."

Patrick drops off the drinks and slides the money off the counter, ignoring any tension between the two men.

"I did change," Philip mumbles, "and she never understood--"

"You did not fucking try," Ari nearly spits in rage but pets a hand down his beard again for composure. He sucks on his teeth, pondering what to say next. "Look, I knew you for a long time, and we were the same. We didn't care. We didn't give a fuck about putting in the effort. And because we didn't give a fuck, no one should have given a fuck about us. She did, and you walked away from that. You are an asshole. You are not welcome here. She is. She always will be.

"Do you understand that?" Ari looks Phil dead in the eyes and holds that gaze with militant ferocity.

"Yeah, man."

Ari relaxes, softening his look and casually clinking his beer bottle to Philip's. "Good. Then get the fuck out of this bar," he says flatly.

Ari heads back to the booth alone, winking as he hands you your drink and motions to scoot back in beside you. Phil hangs around at the bartop just long enough to guzzle his beer and leaves.

José is the first to ask, "what happened there?"

"You know Phil." Ari takes a long pull from his bottle and then stretches back to have his arm over you. "He realized he was in the wrong place. Shame he couldn't stick around."

"Ah, well," Dimitri muses, "we're better off without him."

"Yeah," you say softly, the first word out of your mouth since Phil showed up.

Ari leans over to kiss your temple, his thumb running back and forth across your shoulder. He straightens and picks his beer back up.

"So we're thinking of having a housewarming party. You guys in?"

I don't see Ari as a big spectacle guy, but I do think he'd put his fucking foot down when it came to shit-talking the kid. Honestly, I imagine if Philip showed up before you and Ari got together, Ari would still have been that protective simply because you mean a lot to him. However, he's hyper-aware of not embarrassing you, so this is as confrontational as I can picture him. Still quite *swoon* if I do say so myself, but he's still subtle.

Thank you for reading! Hope you are enjoying this story so far.

[Bedrock and Blueprints Masterlist; Main Masterlist]

[chthonicgodling]

okay!

an Elysium Drama Update!

ahem that is, another textual Elysium drama update, in my hopes and dreams I want to draw things SO MANY THINGS but I have many things to draw first and i have zero energy lately so. TEXT POST disclaimer this did get very very long what a shockerrr but woo

recap: here. Crucial to read that first! (and its linked predecessor!) *our timeline is all fucky wucky right now: Elysium time has been like. a day. two days.

Tory and Maci divided and conquered through the palace to try to scope out if Loki was like, hiding in another room. he is not—oh my god he is not. he’s really gone. Elysium Loki-pregnancy number 3 officially 3 for 3 on cryptically panic vanishing.

cat was kind of let out of the bag as mentioned in my last informal update when Tory stumbled upon Vali, Nari, Eisa, and Einmyria and accidentally told them about the baby. (not who the other parent was!) AND NOW, here’s what’s happened since, ending with where we are right now which is a genuinely unexpected and pending hilarious twist of events! READ ON✨✨

So, aforementioned four Lokikids went off to convene another Sibling Meeting with Rane about newfound baby info and Loki’s REAL disappearance while Tory went off to find Maci. did we find him?!?! no, says Tory very quietly. Maci’s whole face falls she’s now in tears. (“…He really left…?”) okay.,, well. NOW what do they do?????

Tory mentions that some of the kids know what’s going on now and that they were calling a meeting together; maybe they could pop in and see if the kids had any ideas on how to find Loki so they could all work together. okay great plan! Only problem: this is a TOP SECRET meeting.

….Problem quickly solved by ambushing Libby (worst liar of the litter) in the hallway.

Unfortunately when Libby returns from asking Rane if they can join, Rane’s apparent answer was not even a no, it was an ABSOLUTELY NOT. too fucking bad though— Tory and Maci follow Libby and crash the meeting.

it is here that Maci and Tory — and we, the eagerly watching distressed audience — now discover some things about the LokiKid clan:

1: hilariously, Rane is in charge as self appointed leader. - she is 11 years old yes. ruling with an iron fist. No one questions this, not even much older and bigger brothers Fen & Jör, who are present through this meeting as looming figures OVER HER SHOULDER backing her up. Rane is holding court.

2: less hilariously and actually very upsettingly - this may be the worst possible moment to discover, in a crisis, how apparently most of Loki’s kids seem to FUCKING HATE TORY AND MACI. oops! uh-oh! Especially Rane and Vali, glaring the most predominantly.

After a tense stand off with Rane (finally with Tory desperately threatening to pull rank on her to let them attend this meeting; Rane’s response, dryly: “Don’t bother. Your titles carry no weight amongst the children of Loki. We only humor you to be polite.”) Eisa and Einmyria convince Rane to let THEIR parents stick around, also helped along by Tory finally telling them that the new baby on the way was sired by him.

…mass shock. Oh so MACI drove him out?!??! QUICK reassurance that no no no she’s on his side now she’s just as devastated that he’s gone— no one’s really even buying this and tensions grow.

Because well, the kids want him back but THEY know the drill. Loki leaves when he has babies. He’ll send for THEM eventually, privately, but he’s not to be disturbed - certainly not for Tory and Maci, eeeugh. Rane (and Vali) are the most coldly vicious about this but lmfao all of them are kindave in agreement, at least no one’s correcting them. They go back and forth, Tory trying to explain in increasing frustration - the baby is Too big and Loki is weakened. Loki’s a fucking idiot and running from his problems and is not in a good mental space. They love him they need him he has to come home. He just has to.

But Rane, and on behalf of her siblings in a United front, is having none of it- YOU KNOW WHAT some choice canon convo snippets and oh my god I desperately want to draw this REMEMBER RANE’S 11 AND WEARING A FUCKING TOP HAT - btwwww Rane’s ALWAYS been like this, in my brain. this is her very first opportunity to shine! ahem,

Rane: “How arrogant it is to presume he’s better off with you, of all people, than caring for himself.”

Tory:  “Is he better off without us?”

Rane: “Well. My father’s judgement of his own circumstances is absolute. Seeing as he’s no longer here, you tell me.”

[…]

Vali: “Well, here we are. He always has reasons for fleeing as well.”

Maci: “Your father’s an anxious self-destructive wreck, who we love and care about. His judgements and reasons historically suck, and he needs to come back home.”

Rane: “You especially have no business seeking his return. You’re an enemy of my family. And now you’ve driven him away.”

melting melting melting AHHHHHHH

this back and forth goes on and on until finally LIBBY interrupts, watching this whole thing timidly as newest Lokikid, adjusting to the dynamic;

what happens, says Libby, if we don’t find him and bring him home?

well, worst case scenario, says Tory, is injury to the child; to Loki himself; or both. Maci points out that he could end up losing his powers and stuck somewhere where no one can get him, as he had lost his powers during pregnancies before (Rane herself even.) suddenly the gravity of this all hits home when Nari points out that their pantheon can die - Loki could DIE. childbirth is an injurious death. Suddenly, it’s not a matter of what Loki would want (they know what Loki would want, to be left alone) but what’s BEST for his well-being (bringing him HOME). Reluctantly…,,, the tune changes. Vali is the last onboard, but Rane’s word is absolute (lmao).

…Fen also admits he was going to look for Loki anyway regardless of this meetings outcome.

So! How to find him? Finally, the kids share with Tory all of Loki’s usual hiding places. Across realms, though with a baby he’s probably too weak to do this. Often in the upper world, cloaking houses in disguise and blending into Midgard. And finally, in the POCKET VOIDS of the Underworld……..

IMPORTANT INTERLUDE! Now, the pocket voids are an Elysium canon thing. When Loki magically fused with the Underworld long ago, the aftershocks of the magical turnover created many little spaces and gaps “between” physical spaces of the Underworld. They’re almost impossible to find, shifting and infinite, private and discreet. …unsettling and empty. Kind of a collection of “backrooms” of the Underworld, liminal spaces that no one but Loki, as accidental creator, can get into. Only Loki knows how to thoroughly navigate them.

The existence of the pocket voids was discovered when Thanatos escaped back in 2013, I promise I’m going somewhere with that thought. as this was a series of areas that Thanatos was able to escape to. well how was Thanatos able to get into those himself?? I’ll get to that. :3

For now, back to the present — so, Rane assigns her siblings to look for Loki. Vali and Nari are adept at haunting the upper world and could potentially find him up there; Fenris and Jör can travel between realms; the other kids can spread across Elysium, the Underworld - finally as for those pocket voids- still hold that thought! Anyway!

The meeting disperses with Rane refusing to give Tory and Maci an assignment to look for Loki. oh you’ve done MORE than enough, she sneers. Just wait around for him, if you really must. ….ummmm Firstly never forget that Tory’s got JUST as much as a temper as Maci does - it’s just.,, downplayed due to how much time he spends next to Maci, who is worse fgkfkf. But here now, Tory, angry and upset, demands to know exactly what he’s even done?! This isn’t fair!

Rane responds,

“What have you done? You’ve driven our parent away from here - the harder you cling, the further he runs. Not with any of us - but we know him better than you do. And though he may come and go, as through the births of myself and many of my siblings, the child you’ve given him could properly kill him, and now he’ll have to be dragged back against his wishes. Furthermore, you’ve inserted yourself into a private gathering of which you’re not welcome.

We will handle this. Your involvement is no longer needed beyond what you’ve already begun.”

Tory snaps back,

“He consented to having the child. Everything I’ve done was performed with Loki’s permission, gathered beforehand to avoid this situation, but he ran anyway.”

and Rane, coldly,

“That’s your fault for believing him, then.”

so.

S… so.

Both of them fuming and… hurting and trembling,, Tory takes Maci’s hand and retreats with her. They make it as far as their bedroom before Maci bursts into tears (“Holy fuck, that was horrible”), oscillating between raging at how that had gone, the fact that Loki really fucking left; to devastation, over the helplessness they feel and the fact that Loki really left.

Tory makes it as far as Maci choking out that she doesn’t know what happened “he was happy! I thought he was happy.” before Tory is also quietly in tears (and blaming himself! probably because Rane told him this was his fault!)

and so Maci and Tory spent the evening clinging to each other, ANXIOUS about Loki’s wellbeing, furious that he’s gone, and above all, utterly, utterly, heartbroken.

so…. currently.

🥲

Let’s lighten the mood - Return to those pocket voids.

There is actually one other person besides Loki who can get into those - NOT Thanatos; in fact.,

the ONE other person who can access the voids is CHAL.

First discovered by Chal when she was on the run from Ker long long long ago, Chal has always been able to break into, reside in, and teleport through the pocket voids of the Underworld (and had brought her father there during his prison break Shh oops). It’s where Chal was finally discovered and “captured” when they brought her to the Elysium house. Though she hadn’t known it until very recently, it turns out that Chal’s realm of Reincarnation - a slipping of shades across the thin life and death veil - has granted her unprecedented access to slipping across the thin veils of the spaces of the Underworld itself. Though she can’t NAVIGATE them like Loki, she’s always been able to get into them, and is the only person besides Loki himself who can.

Now here we are back during that meeting where, all potential Loki hiding spots are covered except for this one; the biggest, and the one Loki is probably most likely to actually be in.

Libby volunteers Chal to look!

(chal, notably NOT present during this meeting)

here lmao actually, another canon snip:

Libby: “Chal knows how to get into Loki’s pocket voids, maybe I can look with her.”

Rane:  “Ugh, no. Your horrid rude sister isn’t going to do any favors in courting Father back.”

Einmyria:  “Hey, that’s our sister too! …Agreed, though.”

Tory:  “Maybe if she took Bel with her as a buffer?”

Libby:  “Sure, he’s slightly better.”

Slightly lmao 💀And so here in current canon!!! in a truly shocking turn of events!! of ALL FUCKING PEOPLE, Chal and Bel are currently looking for Loki through the voids!!

will they find him?!?! will they convince him to come back?!?! IS THIS THE MOST INSANE LEFTFIELD TWO MESSENGERS TO SEND AFTER LOKI??????? I can’t believe this but it is SO good! currently:

Chal: “…Loki used to— Loki was a fucking, supervillain. Isn’t Loki fucking dangerous? Is this dangerous? Is he going crazy in a fit of fucking rage? What if we have to fight him? I, I can’t win against him in a fight. I don’t even know if I know how to fight anymore and I can’t do magic.”

Bel: “He hasn’t been overtly malicious in a long while.”

Chal: “Maybe he turned overtly malicious while he was running away. Maybe he’s gonna be in a real overtly malicious fucking mood about me and you trying to talk to him.”

COOL! GOOD LUCK YOU TWO! YOU’RE VERY COMPETENT!! oh my gods!!

some very welcome brevity from Maci and Tory sobbing in each others arms around the gap in the bed where Loki was though. again I do want to draw any of this but!! IN NO TIME SOON SOOOOOO

HEY SORRY I DID SAY this was ALLLLL AN excuse for ANGST….. PHEW!!!!

and so if you made it to the end!!!! first of all jfc gbless ily. second of all: STAY TUNED!’ updates of course to follow!!! maybe art one fucking day too fgfkfkgkkgkgk

[denimbex1986]

'David Krumholtz tries not to make too many acting choices in advance. “You just need to find a chemistry with your scene partner and let the scene live in the moment,” says Krumholtz, who plays Izzy Rabi, the one physicist to challenge the title character’s goals and ideas in Christopher Nolan’s “Oppenheimer.”

That chemistry came easily with Cillian Murphy, Krumholtz says, but still the shooting process in the early days were rough enough that he got “scared” for his job...

Having only seen a couple of pages before auditioning for “Oppenheimer,” Krumholtz thought Rabi was a tiny part. After he got over his surprise at landing the role, “my shock at how substantial the role was palpable,” he recalls. “The idea that this amazing filmmaker believed that I could do something special was validating, but then I had to live up to it so I was slightly intimidated … which only increased once I got to the set.”

His first day of shooting was Rabi’s first meeting with Oppenheimer on a train ride. Krumholtz felt prepared, having read the book on which the film was based in addition to studying the script. But there was “a divide between what Chris wanted me to play and what I did.”

Nolan forgoes a video village and a large monitor for a small handheld one, so when he started critiquing Krumholtz’s initial attempts and asking for something different, Krumholtz says, “I’m not going to lie, I kept thinking, ‘How can you see what I’m doing on this tiny monitor? My knee-jerk reaction to his direction — that I did not express out loud — was, ‘That’s what I just did.’ I knew that’s not the smartest argument to have with a great director.”

Ultimately, Krumholtz realized he was hiding some of Rabi, “not a conscious choice,” and Nolan wanted him more immediately accessible. When Krumholtz finally delivered, Nolan said to him, “‘That was 14 takes,’ implying that he only really does three to five,” Krumholtz says, adding, “that’s when I got scared.”

In his next scene, Rabi was supposed to push back at Oppenheimer. “I yelled a bit and got loud, and Chris, who is sarcastic and funny, said, ‘That’s a bit Michael Lerner,’ meaning I was too brash and he wanted a humbler man.”

When that scene was done, Nolan gave him modest praise, saying simply, “Nine takes is better than 14.” As a “kid from Queens,” Krumholtz says he’s used to that kind of banter. “It only made me adore him more.”

The two men discussed the character and Krumholtz started shapeshifting to better serve Nolan’s vision. “I didn’t bristle at that and I trusted him implicitly and my lack of covetousness of my own choices helped that happen,” he says. “I desperately try not to have any kind of ego when I’m acting — not to say I’m ego-free in life, but I just find that humbling myself is the most effective way to get a great performance out of myself. This wouldn’t have worked if I walked in saying, ‘This is the way it has to be done, or this won’t make sense.’ It’s always my number one priority to satisfy the writing and what the director wants. That’s what I try to live up to.”'

[ailelie]

Qualitative Coding

This is something I do.

Think about a messy room. You've been put in charge of organizing it.

How do you start?

First, figure out what room you're in. Is this a bedroom? The master or a guest one? Is it a living room? A game room? Kid's play room? Etc.

In coding, this is the same as figuring out your end goal. What is the final analysis supposed to look like? Once you know that, organizing is easier.

Second, start making piles. You can do very big piles: Does Belong Here vs Does NOT Belong Here or smaller ones: Bedroom vs Living Room vs Kitchen vs Trash.

In coding, this is creating the code structure. You can either decide what your piles (buckets, codes, etc) are first (e.g., knowing you'll need a pile per room) or as you go (e.g., you create a 'bedroom' pile when you find a blanket that belongs in the bedroom).

Third, start putting stuff in piles.

In coding, this is when you read or otherwise review your data. Some people use programs like Nvivo that lets you drag and drop sections of text into codes (ask me how angry I was not to have this for writing research papers in college). Others just use different color highlighters and margin notes.

Fourth, check your piles to make sure you didn't miss anything or put something in the wrong pile. If a pile is really big, maybe you can divide it into smaller ones at this point.

In coding, this is when you check over your work to make sure you didn't make any mistakes and, if needed, add subcodes to a code with a lot of data in it. (e.g., "best time of day" was a pile but it has a lot of stuff in it and so you divide it down to "morning", "afternoon", and "evening").

Fifth, put stuff where it belongs pile by pile.

This is the analysis portion. Basically, you review each code (pile, bucket, etc) and summarize it. How you summarize it is based on the purpose of the analysis in the first place and what the data looks like. You're not going to store a drinking glass on your pots shelf. If you need to know how many people like to drink coffee in the morning, you're probably going to care more about counts and potentially creating a chart than you a summary about why morning is the best time for coffee.

This is the step where you do the most work. You've organized the information. Now you have to do something with it. And what you do depends a lot on the end goal of the data collection.

It is always a good idea, before you start even step 1, to ask "how are these data going to be used?"

Then conduct your analysis with that use in mind.

If the use is something like "We want to prove that X is better than Y" that's fine. What do they need to make that proof? Numbers and testimonials probably, so that's something to focus on when coding/analyzing. Do not however twist or hide data to make the proof for them. If the data show that X isn't better than Y, then that is what the data show. (And, in this case, they'll probably want to know why and want to know more about how the data were collected to understand the trend/viewpoint more).

[purrality]

what sucks the most about keeping feeling suicidal to myself is that almost everyone seems to think I expect them to talk me out of it, or save me, or something like that. I've never asked anybody to do that for me and I never would. I just hate hurting so much all the time on my own. I don't need a surgeon, I need someone to hold my hand while I regularly get a shot I'm dreading. and instead I literally feel like a child being scolded and abandoned if I so much as tell anyone that it's scary and it hurts. even though I did deal with it by myself and will nearly every single time. acknowledging that it's happening is in and of itself burdensome if it can't be stopped, and everyone is too tired for it. and by extension too tired for me, specifically.

my mom told me when she was growing up that the culture was that children are to be seen, not heard. that she was brought to all the family parties and given nice food but if she spoke at any point she'd be punished later at home. for the most part she doesn't reflect that now, she always encouraged me to talk to her and others and externally her attitude towards kids could not be more different from her parents. it really is admirable how much she broke away from how she was raised.

but haven't I been taught to be seen and not heard too, still? aren't I punished with the duty of reassuring people I'm not going to kill myself even though I want to if I so much as crack a joke that's a little too worrying? it's less exhausting to fake smiles than it is to tell people that they can't help you. let alone to tell people that they could help you, actually, but they aren't willing to do what you need, which feels like a guilt trip, but it's the truth, and it's likely also a good way to be even more alone because nobody wants to hear that kind of thing no matter how you word it.

that's the reason for all the bitterness in being alive I bitched about last night. I live for other people, yeah. and what I live for specifically is to be a facade for them. maybe that's why my brain needed to divide itself up so badly. easier to pretend I don't feel this if it's mostly tucked away when I'm in the presence of others. I can hide it if it's held by someone very good at hiding. or at least good at being seen and not heard, to the point of barely being able to use its voice in front of anyone. even that seems to piss damn near everyone off, but at least they usually just snap at me and then that's done with and soon forgotten(by them, not me). I prefer being a punching bag to compulsive overhelpfulness or being waved off with the suicide hotline's number.

so I'll be seen and not heard. I'll sit quietly while hurting and being hurt like a good loyal little dog. just wish people would stop saying that I can tell them anything or that I'm not too much when they obviously don't mean it or want to know all of me.

better than being dead though, or at least that's what people keep trying to convince me. it's fine, I'm too good and kind and patient and nicies to make you live without me. let me worry about the implications of that, I'll take care of it on my own. I'll keep showing up for my shots. you don't owe it to me to hold my hand. I won't even mention the appointment dates. they're my problem to deal with and I'll still do it for you anyways. I'll still hold your hand for yours. I know my place. I know what's expected of me. I know what happens if I don't.

[for-a-longlongtime]

II. No game at all (but I can do this)

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Tim Rockford

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI Words: 783 A/N: I'm literally running out the door to go see All Of Us Strangers right now, but Tim and Marcus had some unfinished business since y'all liked that drabble from the other day so much so byeee none of this is polished! @ghostofaboy this is for you. Dividers by @saradika

< Previous part

“Fuck. That was my kid’s school. I promise I’m not being a jackass, but I gotta go.” 

Marcus’ disappointment hangs thick in the air, but he shrugs it off as he nods. “Sounds important. No problem. I’ll see you around at the gy-”

“No, I’m serious,” Frankie interrupts him gently. “Not pulling one over on you, okay? Give me your number, I’ll meet you later.” His eyes slide to Tim for a moment. “If that’s cool.”

Tim doesn’t respond - not his place - as he turns to his locker, grabbing his things as he heads for the showers, hearing Marcus and Franke exchange numbers and say goodbye. For a moment everything is quiet as the hot water beats down on Tim, the earthy citrus smell of body wash filling the communal showers, then he hears Marcus’ feet on the tiles behind him.

“Need a hand?”

“With what?”

Marcus laughs softly. “Dealer’s choice.” He presses himself against Tim’s back, running his hand over the body wash slick skin of his bicep, other hand moving to Tim’s belly. “Mmm. I love the smell of this one, why don’t you use it at home?”

It’s hard for Tim not to shiver when Marcus scritches his nails through the hair below his navel, making him twitch involuntarily. He allows himself to enjoy it for a bit, along with the press of Marcus’ stiff dick against him, before he turns around to face him. “Your pickup lines are terrible, you know. You have no game whatsoever”, he says, but can’t hide the smile behind his words.

“I don’t need game for you.” Marcus grins, not wasting any time as he wraps his fingers around Tim’s cock, letting them slide over his length to the tip, which he slowly rubs with his thumb. “I can just do this - see?”

Tim stops him when Marcus leans in. “And you’re gonna kiss me with another’s man’s cum still on your tongue, Pike? Rude.”

“Damn right, because I know you love that.” This time Marcus doesn’t wait and simply claims Tim’s mouth, eagerly pushing him back against the shower wall. But Tim shakes his head as he groans, his hands quicker, and within seconds he has Marcus’ front shoved against the wall. 

“Somehow you seem to think that you’re in charge, hmm?” One hand against Marcus’ shoulder blades to keep him pinned, he grinds his hard cock against Marcus’ ass - between his cheeks -, mercilessly chasing the friction to start getting himself off. “I think your pilot still has you riding high,” he muses as Marcus is gasping under him, trying to get a hand between himself and the wall. “Got you all cock drunk, huh? He sure fucked your mouth nicely.”

When Marcus finally gets a hand on himself, his back arching as he groans, Tim tugs it away without hesitation, now pushing him completely flush against the wall. “Nuh-uh. STAY.” 

“Tim, please…”

“Hmmm?” He bucks his hips hard against Marcus’ ass, his head almost spinning by how fast he’s getting himself worked up, the sounds spilling from Marcus’ lips pushing him even faster towards a release.

“Please, Tim, fuck - please, come on..”

“You take whatever I give you.” He groans as Marcus starts pushing back against him, needy for anything, and he lets himself think of his earlier fantasy. Fucking Marcus’ ass while Frankie takes his mouth and oh, shit - just the thought alone and Marcus’ begging nearly makes him come right there.

“You liked it,” Marcus gasped. “I could tell. You liked his dick.”

“I liked his dick in your mouth, yeah. Got those pretty lips all fucked up.” 

Marcus moans at that, sounding almost desperate. “Tim…”

As Tim feels his balls tighten, he decides to take mercy on Marcus. Tugging him away from the tile, he then pushes him with his back against the wall, Marcus wide eyes meeting his in relief. He doesn’t wait, just claims Marcus’ mouth with a deep kiss as he grabs both their dicks. “He tastes good on you.”

Marcus is frantic, hands grabbing and hips pushing, and it doesn’t take long, not for either of them. “Should’ve taken you right there,” Tim gasps, the fantasy still burning in his mind. “Fucked you further onto his cock to hear you choke, huh? Would you’ve liked that?”

Marcus is unable to get the words out, but him coming hard under Tim’s hand is all the answer he needs. Tim swears as his orgasm hits him too, leaving them both panting against the wall, the water still running down on them as they try to catch their breath. 

“I do”, Marcus mumbles against Tim’s neck, pressing a kiss against him. “Want you two both to fuck me.”

Main masterlist | < Previous part | Next part > Follow @longlongtime-updates for fic updates!

[infernalodie]

hi, I was wondering if you could do something along the lines of Lexi getting her heartbroken by Fez but his best friend is there to cheer her up in more ways than one and can it be a black male reader please!

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 || 𝐋𝐞𝐱𝐢 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

"𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯' 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘕𝘢𝘩, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴?"

Inspo: Bryson Tiller - Slept On You

Pairing: Lexi Howard x Black!Male!reader

Summary: They all had slept on her. Unknowing to the rawest piece of Lexi that you wished to see. If only things could’ve been fairer.

(gif used is not mine)

Warnings: Smut, choking, overstimulation, blowjob, and even a tiny bit of angst at the end.

Words 2887

DNI IF YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

You didn’t expect much when it came to what Fezco did with his personal life. Although you two lived together, rarely did you find yourself bumping into his friends or asking what he did with his day. But being friends since pre-k and business associates kinda divided the two of you in that sense. The life the two of you lived was full of risk and money you were keen on making.

So, it came as a surprise when you ran into Lexi Howard, who’d been coming by the house far more frequently than you expected. She held a nervous smile when she bumped into you. Rubbing her aching nose when her face met your hulking back. Apologies falling from her lips when she expected you to be some type of heartless drug dealer with a .9 in the back of his pants. Which, to be fair, was true, but it was endearing seeing how easily she got nervous from you sending her a simple glance that could’ve been mistaken for a glare.

The first thing you noticed when you saw her was the unique style she wore in comparison to some of the girls you’d seen go to East Highland. She wasn’t trying to sexualize herself unlike Maddy Perez, who you’ve had your fair share of “free time” with. And that smile? It was one of pure innocents and inexperience to the world she’d involved herself in. Didn’t she know the type of shit that you and Fez got up to? The number of people you had killed just for an extra dollar? Had Rue nor Fez told her the type of person you were?

It seemed like that hadn’t been the case considering the moment you glanced at Lexi, she felt her cheeks redden. Either from embarrassment or the faintest tinge of arousal. Her eyes noticed the light stubble gracing your jawline, your biceps that were out there from the baggy t-shirt you wore, and your thick muscular thighs that flexed with each step you took. You were a sight to behold, a different type of specimen in comparison to Fez.

And when she walked past you, greeting Fez who sat in the living room, your eyes took a daring glance at her ass- And by God, you were in the mood to steal this girl right from Fez. It was the perfect mixture of plump and firm. But before you could think about any more of that, you had decided to relieve yourself of said thoughts.

It became a problem when Lexi got together with Fez. You could wake up in the morning and find Lexi half naked with only one of Fez’s t-shirts hiding the location you wished to explore. Truthfully, it was hard not to stare. Any guy who had fucking brain cells would be able to realize that Lexi was a catch that you shouldn’t let go. She was beautiful, smart, thoughtful, and even caring to the most fucked up guys in town. Fez sold drugs to kids and you killed people, and she treated both of you like any other human. Of course, she fucked Fez when they thought you and Ash were asleep, but she made you breakfast in the morning and helped you with anything you needed.

She was a sweet girl that you were fighting your desires of claiming her as yours. After all, this was your childhood best friend’s girlfriend you were thinking about. You couldn’t betray Fezco like that. No matter how badly you wanted to give this girl everything she truly deserved.

But you stayed true to your friendship with Fez. Opting to just have a platonic friendship with Lexi where you two grew closer. Able to have conversations whenever you two ran into one another in Highland or at the house she had practically moved into. Have brief conversations about books that both of you had been reading or about movies you two had been planning on going to see. And not once did she look at you fearfully when you were making your way out of the house with your Glock in hand.

Did you say she was sweet yet?

Unfortunately, there would always be trouble in paradise. That was the case when Lexi had arrived at the house and found Fez and Faye fucking. Of course, you hadn’t been at the house, instead, watching over the store. But when you did hear about it, you had seen Lexi grabbing all her clothes from the house and putting it in her car whilst Fez pleaded for forgiveness. And when they looked at you for guidance, you just walked away in silence, knowing that choosing one over the other would break a friendship.

As much as you loved Fez, he didn’t deserve Lexi. That girl was one of a kind and you couldn’t understand how he would just brush her to the side of a drugged-out chick that was living with you two temporarily. Lexi was the one anyone could want and you just couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of someone fumbling the bag.

So, for the next few weeks, you stayed away from the house as much as possible. Allowing Fez to deal with the breakup in the way you knew he would. Working late hours at the corner store, sitting at the counter playing Geometry Dash with a beer in hand.

It’d been a rather slow night. Maddy swung by to buy some weed, as well as looking for a hookup, but you shot her down. Because as much as you would love to have something eventful happen tonight, you knew it was nothing more than one simple little fling that would dissolve into the air once you made her cum. Leaving you high and dry and likely to stroke one out when you got home. So, let’s be honest, you’d prefer having a boring night to the latter.

But life had a way of throwing curveballs your way, which came in the form of Lexi, who seemed a bit chippier than you had expected. “Hey, Y/n.” She greeted you with that beautiful smile you may have wanted to scream your name.

You smiled, placing your phone down. “Lexi,” you greeted. “What can I do for you, sweetheart?”

She wouldn’t lie, under the fluorescent lighting, your chocolate skin seemed to shine. Defining each muscle exposed out of reach from the black t-shirt you wore. Your large hand holding the glass of beer. Lexi wondered how well it would fit around her throat as you fucked her senselessly.

“Just wanted to give you some company,” she observed. “I know you work here until the late hours of the morning before Fezco takes over. Just wanted to hang with my best friend.”

“Oh?” You smirked. “We’re best friends now.”

She nodded. “Absolutely.” She glanced at the fridge that held all the alcohol. “And we’re such good friends that you will let me grab a beer for free. In return, you get my attention.”

You kissed your teeth, tilting your head. “I don’t know, Lexi,” you said. “It feels like I am losing either way.”

Lexi kicked your shin in response. Reluctantly, you gave her permission to grab one. She grabbed a seat with you out front, the night air bristly passing by the both of you. You two hadn’t had a moment alone like this. If you guys did talk, Fez was nearby and involved in the conversation. So you felt some type of pressure to not bore Lexi.

“Has he talked about me since we broke?” Lexi asked, shortly bringing the brim of the bottle to her lips and taking a sip. Wincing in disgust from the taste gracing her tongue.

Pursing your lips, your leg bounced as you waved your hand, searching for the right words to let her down easier. “He thinks about you?”

“Why did you say it like a question?” She chuckled.

“Well, I don’t know how he’s been feeling honestly,” you said honestly. “I haven’t stayed at the house that much. I just go home, sleep, smoke, and then come here. It hasn’t been that much living in that space for a minute.”

“Why?” She mused.

You blew a raspberry, shaking your head slightly. “Want me to be honest?” You glanced at her, watching her nod as you sighed. “I got used to you being around. I miss waking up and sitting on the counter and listening to you talk about school. Or talk about whatever drama going on.” You shrugged, bringing the bottle to your lips. “It sucks that you aren’t around as much.”

Lexi watched with parted lips as you took a sip of your drink. Licking your lips and glancing around at the dark streets that had the occasional vehicle travel down them. Lighting the shadows of the late hours of the night.

“Well, I miss you.”

You looked at the girl, finding her smiling nervously at you. But you knew there was something else hidden under those words. An innuendo you had yet to discover.

“Holy fuck, Lexi.” You moaned, your nails scrapping Lexi’s scalp. Her head bobbing and taking as much of your cock down her throat then she could. Spit dribbled around the corners of her mouth, dripping from her chin as she gagged and choked. You were a lot bigger than Fez and the new length and girth made it quite difficult for her to adapt.

And you weren’t making it any easier as you forced yourself further down her throat. Your red tip hit the back of her throat when you rocked your hips forward. But she found it oddly hot at how you used her for your own pleasure.

Lexi coughed, it coming out garbled from the spit have accumulated in her mouth and throat. She still tried to please you, taking a few inches more of you before she shot back with a gasp. Ropes of spit connected from her lips to your cock that stood heavy in her hand. One hand fondling your balls, loving the quiet moans that feel shamelessly from your lips.

Calculating, she lifted your cock with her eyes connecting with your eyes. Her tongue touched the underside of your cock, dragging it up to the tip with a methodically slow pump of her hand. You inhaled deeply, salivating at the sight you’d been waiting for.

You had closed the store early tonight, leaving only a few lights on so you could watch Lexi suck you off and when you would eventually fuck her. You might have also put your phone on silent, ignoring all texts and calls coming from Ashtray and Fez.

“Bend over on the counter.” Eagerly, Lexi listened to the command. Bracing her arms on the cold surface, shivering as she felt one of your hands grasp her shoulder. The other angling yourself with her hole that squeezed around nothing. She was drenched, eagerly waiting for the moment you would fuck her. Now that it was here, she was keening to feel your massive size fill her to the brim.

And when she least expected it, your hips snapped forward. Lexi cried out, head falling forward as your hips rested against her ass flush. As she expected, you filled her to a point that no other person ever has. The stretch was unbelievably painful, and she was thankful you had stopped to allow her to adjust.

A hand slithered up your back and wrapped around her throat. Lexi gasped, feeling your finger squeeze gently, cutting a tiny bit of her airway off. But that was the least of her problems when you started slamming your hips into hers. Your cock touched each spot in her, leaving her breathless.

“Oh, f-fuck!” She moaned, savouring each inch of you filling her up. “Please, fuck me harder, Y/n!”

You stared down at where you two met. Watching her pussy swallow each and every inch of you without any resistance. Each pound of your hips causes her ass to jiggle in such a beautiful manner. This is where Lexi shined. Bent over and begging for your cock. Just like it always should’ve been.

Something about the way she squeeze around you made you feral. Fucking her like an animal in heat and needing each of her pussy claimed by you. You could stay here for a million years. Spend the rest of your days fucking her until your last waking moment. She was a fucking drug you couldn’t get enough of.

“Eight inches of dick ain’t enough for you, huh Lexi?” You grunted, hips pounding even harder. Your tip kissing her cervix blissfully. So nice that Lexi could only gasp with each thrust, head lulling forward and back up on repeat. “If that’s the case, I have no problem fucking you into the morning. Have girl’s not told you the stamina I have?”

The way you spoke was in utter amusement. Just the thrill of creating a worldwind for Lexi and her body she had not even considered thinking about. But it was put into your actions when your hips slammed against her harder than ever before, hand coming down onto her ass. She cried out, shivering at the pain you had caused. The likelihood of her having bruises from you was not even in question. You were planning to make sure she had something to remember you by. If that be the pain on her ass or the wobbly legs she would have after you were done with her.

“Please, Y/n,” she whined. “I’m so close.”

Your calloused hands roamed her body, brushing across her pebbled nipples, down her stomach and to her clit where you traced figures into the sensitive bundle of nerves. The initial touch had Lexi’s legs faltering, crying out with your arm quickly catching her. “Holy shit.”

“I bet he never made you feel like this, huh?” You husked in a raspy low tone. “He’s never fucked you like this, right? He slept on you Lexi and I plan to make up for it.”

Lexi threw her head back, becoming lightheaded from the build-up in her stomach. Her walls squeezed around you repeatedly, hoping it would bring you to the edge she had fallen from. Her legs trembling and ready to give out from the sheer force of her climax. Body trembling with a shaky moan slipping past her parted lips. Feeling her arousal mix with yours, only making it easier to pump your cock deeper and faster into her. Never relenting from building up another release you wanted her to experience.

“Y-Y/n,” she cried. “It’s too much. I can’t handle another one!”

You didn’t listen, shifting your stance and hitting a whole other angle that Lexi hadn’t been prepared for. Hands shot to grip the edge of the counter, unable to contain the pornographic scream that ripped free from her throat. She didn’t care about the tiniest bit of embarrassment that filled her mind when she cried out or the tears that streamed down her cheeks. It was only you that mattered at this point in time. Perplexed by the way your cock dragged through her pussy with such each, tapping each well-needed point, balls slapping against her clit. All of it creating another climax to build in her stomach. 

Telling by the sloppy thrusts, she could feel you on the verge of release. The soft moans fell from your lips as you gripped her hips tightly, listening to the moans that fell from Lexi’s lips. And when she finally met her second release, her walls squeezed delectably around you, pulling you over the edge. Head being thrown back as your cum filled her pussy, groaning out with your hips snapping. Wanting every drop of your cum to fill her.

When you pulled away, you grabbed a rag from the counter and cleaned yourself up. Placed a soft hand on Lexi’s hip, leaning down and kissing her left shoulder blade. “You did so well, sweetheart.”

For a minute, you cleaned her up before beginning to get changed. A smile on your lips the entire time as you saw the girl’s legs slightly wobble with each step she took. You did want to leave her with a reminder.

“This was a mistake.” Your smile fell, watching Lexi quickly grab her clothes, slipping each article on one by one. Hiding more and more parts of her body that you wished to have a moment longer to see.

In some way, you had hoped she would finally see the attraction you had held for her all this time. Maybe, she would come to you instead of likely going back to Fez. But you were wrong. So fucking wrong and you felt dumb for even thinking that there was even a chance of something there between you and her.

You pursed your lips, buttoning up your jeans with a nod. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Just a one-time thing.”

Lexi didn’t reply, instead, after she got her clothes on, she was quickly making her way out of the store. Leaving you to stare at the door with a clenched jaw. Every guy would sleep on her. You may have been the one to notice her, but you were the one who lost the race even before it started.

[redroseinsanity]

911 What's your emergency? - Daisuga

Based on this video that @thewhiskingpot sent me and then promptly shoved this wonderful plot bunny into my head. Thank you, it's all I could think about.

At first, Daichi thinks it's a prank call.

After all, they've all gotten their fair share of some punk thinking it's funny to talk like SpongeBob over an emergency line or to call the police and order a pizza.

So when the young sounding voice comes over the phone, Daichi braces for something terrible or just some kid messing around.

"I need some help."

Definitely a child. But not particularly distressed sounding. However, Daichi knows of abuse cases or emergencies that started with a calm phone call and ended with something that made Daichi consider counselling after.

"What's the matter?" He asks, trying to sound gentle.

"With my math."

Daichi is unsure what the child is saying. Did he say mouth? Was there a terrible accident? His fingers hover over the ambulance dispatch numbers.

"With your mouth?" He clarifies, voice calm despite his heartbeat starting to pick up.

"No! With my math," The kid repeats sounding slightly upset now, I have to do it."

Daichi sits at his booth, flummoxed and wondering if this kid genuinely called for help with his math homework.

"I-I have takeaways," The kid adds to drive home the urgency of this emergency.

Daichi remembers being five and completely overwhelmed by the concept of addition and subtraction.

"Oh, you have to do the takeaways?" He confirms, trying to ascertain if this is a coded message or not.

Over the panel dividing their desks, his colleague shoots him a questioning look. Daichi types the code for an uncertain case over to them and they nod in comprehension.

"Yeah," The child sounds satisfied that Daichi is finally on the same page.

Wanting to be very sure that this kid is really not in danger, Daichi decides to ask again.

"Alright, so what's the problem?"

The answer is almost instantaneous, "You have to help me with my math!"

Daichi cracks a helpless grin, unable to believe that this kid called the police for help with his homework.

"Okay, tell me what the math is," Daichi grabs a pen and paper in case there's a secret SOS in the formula.

Over the panel, Ennoshita gives Daichi an assessing glance once more and Daichi shrugs, and loops him into the call just in case he can pick up on something Daichi's missing.

There's a pause before the voice perks up, "Oh! Here's one. Umm.."

Daichi tenses, waits for the hidden message.

"Five takeaway five," The kid proclaims.

Blinking, Daichi slowly lowers his pen and turns his attention to the child on the line.

"Alright, and what do you think it is?" Daichi asks patiently.

"Umm..." The small voice is confident when it answers, "Five."

Daichi facepalms.

Ennoshita is now openly frowning as he, too, sorts through the possibilities of this being a real emergency.

"Shouyou, what are you doing?" The call picks up on a voice in the background. Although it's faint and hardly coming through, Daichi can hear the edges of panic lacing through a calm voice.

"The policeman is helping me with my math!" Shouyou replies brightly.

'The dad?' Daichi mouths at Ennoshita, who nods slowly in agreement.

They both relax minutely, because at least there hasn't been any shouting nor does the child, Shouyou, sound afraid of whoever it is he's talking to.

"What! Honey, what did I say about playing on the phone?" The voice is much clearer now and it's honey smooth even while radiating distress.

There's sounds of a small fumble before Shouyou's voice can be heard again but smaller and further away from the phone as if the phone was taken away from him.

"You said to call someone if I needed help!" There's indignance and some pride in there as Shouyou defends his choice.

In the control room, Daichi presses his lips together in a bid to hide his amusement.

"Not the police!" That honey mellow voice is louder and unmistakeably exasperated. But, Daichi notes with relief, not angry.

"Hello? I'm so sorry!"

Oh, that lovely, lilting voice is speaking to him now. Daichi snaps to attention, automatically slipping into his professional mode.

"Is there an emergency or anything we can help with?" Daichi tries to keep his tone even, but winces as the words leave his lips, knowing that he sounds gentler than usual.

It's silly, but Daichi is immensely endeared by a child who called the police for help and a parent who seems to be kind and firm.

"No, no- Shouyou, please don't run while holding that, we talked about this, remember? No, we're fine, I'm terribly sorry to have bothered you," Shouyou's parent is profusely apologetic, authoritative and soothing in a single breath.

It's pretty impressive.

Daichi types a note next to the call details and nods to Ennoshita who logs off the call, leaving it to Daichi to wrap up.

"It's alright," Daichi assures the man on the line.

Ennoshita narrows his eyes at the slight deviation from the usual script, but Shouyou's parent/guardian sounds so earnest that the words were pulled from Daichi.

It's the first time Daichi has gotten a call to help with math homework, but it's nothing too out of the ordinary.

Yet, as the evening wears on, Daichi can't put the call out of his mind. From how sweetly innocent Shouyou sounded to the barely controlled frantic tone in his parent's voice.

So when his shift ends and Daichi searches the address that he had originally traced Shouyou's call to, he has to remind himself that it's within protocol to check on potentially suspicious calls.

Not that he wants to meet the cute kid who demanded for assistance with 5 minus 5.

Shouyou lives in a quiet neighbourhood and a fairly nondescript house, so when the door opens to reveal wallpapers in screaming shades of violet and furniture that seem vaguely mismatched but somehow are within the same theme, Daichi is surprised to say the least.

"Hi!" Daichi looks down to find Shouyou, a halo of bright red and a smile that reveals some missing teeth.

Immediately, he crouches down so that he's on eye level with Shouyou.

"Hi," He smiles, "You called me earlier for help with your math homework."

Shouyou's eyes go comically wide as he grins even bigger if that were physically possible.

"I still have some problems!" He exclaims, seemingly delighted that the math tutoring policeman is available on demand.

A quick scan shows that Shouyou is perfectly unharmed saved for a bandaid on his knee and he looks healthy as well.

Something inside Daichi relaxes with this assessment just in time to tense right back up as the most stunning person fills the doorframe above Shouyou.

Daichi gazes upward from where he's kneeling and stares at sparkling hazel eyes accentuated by a beauty mark just below one of them.

Warm light from inside the house illuminates the person Daichi assumes to be Shouyou's parent.

He looks like an angel, is Daichi's first thought.

He's married? He has a kid, is his second thought.

Oh shit, he's talking to me and I didn't hear anything he said, is his third.

Daichi's brain falls back on autopilot as he stands to flash his badge.

"Good evening, sorry to disturb you but we received a call from your son earlier today so I just wanted to drop by and see if everything is alright," Daichi mentally kicks himself as his voice comes out gruffer than intended.

The angel's eyes dart once to the badge before going back to Daichi's and then making a slow, unabashed trip down Daichi's entire body.

Heat rises in Daichi's ears, is he getting checked out? Probably not, he'd stayed in uniform so the parent was probably just making sure Daichi was legit.

"Officer Sawamura."

Daichi had been prepared for a fight, to have to call for back up, or even to have to involve social services.

But he had not been prepared for the way his name sounded in that mouth, shaped in that amber bright voice.

"We spoke on the phone, yes," The parent smiles and Daichi wishes he could call for back up because his training never equipped him for a smile like that.

It's clear to see where Shouyou gets his sunninness from.

Thinking about Shouyou snaps Daichi out of his daze somewhat and he nods stiffly.

"Are you Shouyou's parent? Do you mind if I do a routine check?" Are you married? Can I get your number and not from the emergency call system? Daichi clenches his jaw to keep the extra questions from spilling out.

"Sugawara Koushi," Sugawara extends a slim hand that's dotted with flecks of greens and whites, "Sorry about the paint on my hand, I was trying to wash it off when you came."

"No worries, are you an artist?" Daichi reaches out and is pleasantly surprised by Sugawara's strong grip.

No ring, he notes. But then scolds himself for being so unprofessional.

"I'm a teacher," Sugawara absently strokes Shouyou's shock of hair and it's the sweetness of it that tips Daichi over the edge and kills his brain to mouth filter.

"Clearly not a math teacher," He says before he can stop himself.

Surprise freezes Sugawara's expression for a split second before it warms thoroughly with sheer delight and if Daichi thought that Sugawara was lovely before, he's completely enchanting like this.

"Because my son called the police for help with his math?" There's a teasing note in Sugawara's voice and it eases the worry that Daichi had overstepped his boundaries.

"No, because he thinks 5 minus 5 is 5," Daichi can't help but chuckle.

Sugawara's cheeks seem to pink a little just as his hazel eyes light up and then he's laughing, full-bellied and whole heartedly.

Shouyou looks between the two of them, his grin ever-present.

"I'm an art teacher," Sugawara finally calms enough to say. Daichi nods, it would explain the way the bold interior design that somehow isn't too overwhelming.

Daichi feels a tug on his pants leg and goes back down on one knee to hear what Shouyou has to say.

"I'm really good at art," Shouyou proclaims.

"I bet you are," Daichi can't help but echo Shouyou's brilliant grin because of how infectious it is.

"Wanna see what I made?" Shouyou takes a few steps into the house before turning back and tugging on Daichi's sleeve.

Daichi looks up to Sugawara for permission and catches him staring at them with undisguised fondness in his eyes.

It's an expression that makes Daichi feel like he got punched in the stomach but in a way that he kind of enjoyed it.

Of course he understands Sugawara is directing that look at Shouyou and Daichi wonders what it would take for Sugawara to look at him like that too.

Their eyes lock for a moment, and Daichi can't bring himself to look away. Not when Sugawara is all warmth and sparking mischief.

Sugawara blinks and glances down for a second, as if he could feel the electricity between them as well.

When he looks up, he's all gentle smiles and composure.

"Please come in," He steps back, "You needed to do your check anyway, right?"

Daichi could have needed to save his own life right now and he wouldn't have remembered.

He nods and steps inside.

Daichi is shown Shouyou's various art pieces including the one he just completed of his best friend from kindergarten.

He observes numerous photographs all over the house and how it's only Sugawara and Shoyou in them.

He gets a tour of the house including Shouyou's room, marked with two handprints on the door. One is adult sized and the other is tiny.

Shouyou slaps his hand over it and half yells, "Look, I'm so much bigger now! Dad says I can do one more on every birthday to show how much I'm growing."

Sugawara plants a kiss on Shouyou's head before he covers his own handprint with his hand, "Do you remember what mine shows then?"

"That you'll always be with me no matter how big I get," Shouyou answers with a smile that can power the whole city.

If Daichi thought that he was already blown away by this man, the level of love and affection Sugawara showed Shouyou was making Daichi melt in ways he didn't know he could.

Who knew he liked children this much? Had he always been so susceptible to teasing hazel eyes and bright smiles? Was he tearing up? Is he secretly a masochist?

Who knew? Not Daichi, for sure.

He clears his throat, "I think I can concude the check now, thank you for allowing me to do my job."

Sugawara's eyes are on him in an instant, knowing and glinting in the low light. Daichi feels caught out without a single word spoken, as if Sugawara knew Daichi wanted to see Shouyou instead of being completely professional.

But Sugawara just smiles and tells Shouyou to say bye to Daichi.

With zero mercy and one hundred percent adorableness, Shouyou turns his big brown eyes on Daichi, "When are you coming back, Offser Sawa- Sawarua?"

Daichi gets on eye level with the child, "You can call me Daichi if it's easier."

"Daichi-san," Sugawara tells Shouyou and if hearing his surname in Sugawara's voice had been electrifying, the experience of his given name falling from those lips is surreal.

"Daichi-san, when you come back I can show you more paintings!" Shouyou beams.

Despite all his training to be impervious to most threats, Daichi finds that he's helpless against Shouyou's hopeful smile and is unable to deny him.

"I don't know..." He glances up at Sugawara, the distress must be clear on his face because Sugawara takes pity on him, laughing as he bundles Shouyou into his arms and deposits him in a chair.

"We'll have to see if the nice police officer has time to come back, okay?"

"Okay," Shouyou nods agreeably, already distracted with the crayons in his hands, "Bye bye, Daichi-san, come back soon okay!"

"Okay," Daichi can't help but say, "Bye, Shouyou."

"You don't have to promise him if you don't want to," Sugawara tells Daichi lightly, but his eyes are wary when they fix on Daichi putting on his shoes.

"No, I want to," Daichi nearly falls over in his rush to assure Sugawara, "I just wasn't sure if you'd be okay with it. I mean, I'm practically a stranger."

He doesn't want to pressure Sugawara and he knows that his presence here is that of a police officer.

But Sugawara's smile is back to being a blinding, teasing thing.

"I know your name is Sawamura Daichi, that you're a police officer and that you help little kids solve math problems even though that's not your job."

Sugawara's grin seems to widen, "And you know my name, have been to my place and have met my son."

"It seems, we're far from strangers..." Sugawara steps closer to Daichi in the doorway.

Up close, he smells good, like a mix of spices and laundry detergent, exciting and comforting all at once. It's intoxicating and Daichi wants to move in instead of away.

But he remains rooted to the spot as if his feet have suddenly cemented themselves to the foyer floor. Daichi's completely out of his depth here.

He doesn't know what he's doing, what he can do.

All he had planned was to check on Shouyou and instead, he had gotten blindsided by Sugawara Koushi.

Like a force of nature, Sugawara had upended everything normal in what was meant to be a very regular follow up.

"But if you want to really not be strangers anymore, how about you start calling me Suga and let me take you to dinner tomorrow?"

Sugawara tilts his head, leaning against the wildly violet wallpaper and holds Daichi's gaze unflinchingly.

Daichi blinks in disbelief.

Call him Suga? Take Daichi out for dinner?

Here, Daichi was wondering if it would be inappropriate to even ask to see him again.

His brain stutters and any sort of intelligible response dies swiftly in his mouth.

"What?" Daichi finally manages to croak out.

"Unless I was reading you wrong the whole time," For once, Sugawara looks uncertain and he pushes off the wall, his hands finding each other and worrying at the nails, "I'm usually right though, I thought-"

"You weren't,"Daichi interrupts with a bit too much fervor in his haste to grab onto this miracle, "I-I think you're right."

Sugawara pauses, carefully scans Daichi's expression before once more looking like a cat prowling after its prey.

"Well, what do you say, Officer Sawamura?" Sugawara's lips curl up, his hazel eyes sparkling.

Daichi's surname in Sugawara's voice sounds like sin. But he wants to hear his given name in that honey tones even more.

"Call me Daichi and we're on for dinner."

[cherienymphe]

Bloodied Crowns (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, STEPCEST, murder, violence, abusive realtionships, Tony x reader, prince!Peter, king!Tony, queen!Reader

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ based off of this ask

summary:  When your husband, King Anthony, is killed in a coup staged by his son from his previous marriage, Peter, you are forced to marry the young man who no longer feels the need to hide his feelings.

~

Peter was only eighteen when you married the king, the stern monarch losing his wife only a few months prior. The engagement and the wedding happened so quickly, and before you knew it, you were married to King Anthony Stark. Truth be told, you’d feared that you’d never marry at all, and that you’d bring shame to your name, but a stroke of luck, or perhaps misfortune, had put you directly into the king’s path.

Your family had attended the queen’s funeral to pay your respects. It had been drilled into you to catch the eye of an available suitor, as it had been many times before, and while you were disgusted that you could not even properly pay your respects to the royal family, you understood your parents’ desperation. You were twenty-eight with no prospects on the horizon. They had no other children, no sons, your mother unable to conceive after yourself, and so the weight of carrying on the family name was solely on your shoulders.

Your family was not poor by any means, but you were far from wealthy. That being said, your mother spent an outrageous amount to get you the most captivating black dress money could buy. It was not something that would draw too much attention, but enough so that you did not look like a grieving widow yourself. When it was your turn to pay your respects, you recalled bowing to the young prince, the brunette barely acknowledging anyone’s presence. It was rumored that he and his mother were close, that he’d taken her death very hard, and the way he seemed to stare right through you confirmed as much.

When you bowed to the king, apologizing for his loss, you could feel his eyes on you. This was nothing you concerned yourself with. After all, you were speaking to him and he you, but when you rose, you were taken aback by the intensity you found in his dark eyes. Where his son seemed to look through you, the king could not seem to take his eyes off of you. No one else seemed to notice, and, brushing it off, by the time you returned home, you had forgotten all about it.

Until a few days later when a royal guard was at your door. You were being invited to dine with the king, the invitation extending to your family as well, and although you were confused, you knew you could not refuse. Even if you wanted to. The dinner was nice, and you were a bit surprised at how easy it was to get along with the king. You never thought him cruel, but you’d heard that he was a rather stern man. After supper, he extended the invitation to staying at the castle so that you would not have to travel back so late in the evening. Your mother answered before you had the chance to, and it was no surprise to you that the answer was yes.

The castle was so different during the night. It seemed less welcoming and more ominous, and you found it hard to sleep that night. Convinced that the corridors would be empty, you quietly slipped from your chambers and made your way down to the kitchens. There were still a few servants lingering about, cleaning or preparing for the next day. You felt guilty for bothering them for something to drink.

“Nonsense, my lady. I would be more than happy to get that for you,” a younger girl by the name of Guinevere told you.

“Oh...please,” you waved her off. “No one is around. Call me Y/N.”

Her eyes seemed to sparkle as you told her your name, but she said nothing more as she gave you your water. The dark corridors did not scare you, but the eerie silence was a bit off putting, especially in such a grand structure. You had turned the corner to make your way back to your room when you bumped into none other than the prince. You had almost dropped the drink, and you placed your hand on your chest in an attempt to still your heart.

“Your highness. My apologies, I did not see…”

Your words died in your throat as the prince fixed you with a look that made your stomach churn. You snapped your mouth shut, swallowing as he simply glared at you, brown eyes looking so much darker. You had not seen him since the queen’s burial, and he did not look much better than he did then. Before you had a chance to say anything else, he had shoved past you, almost making you drop the goblet in your hand, and a low gasp escaped you as your other shoulder harshly met the wall. You turned to watch him go, shock and confusion pouring through you, wondering what you had done to offend him so.

It was only a few weeks later did you get your answer.

“I...I beg your pardon?”

The king reached for your hand, a soft breeze ruffling his dark hair as he brought it to his lips. They were soft as they brushed over your skin, and the corner of them curved upwards into a smile.

“Everything is already being arranged, but...this is my formal proposal. I need a queen, Peter needs a mother, and you are everything I could have hoped for,” he told you.

You stared at him in shock, feeling as if the world had been ripped out from beneath your feet. Your mind whirled as you tried to make sense of this and where this had come from, and suddenly, the puzzle started to piece together. The countless dinner invitations, the gleam in your parents’ eyes, the hushed conversations...the prince’s animosity. You were being courted by the king this whole time...and you’d been none the wiser. His chuckle pulled you from your thoughts.

“When your mother told me that you could be quite oblivious, I thought that it was a simple exaggeration.”

He found humor in your distress, you realized, and you swallowed.

“I do not know what to say,” you slowly breathed, and you watched him tilt his head at you, a frown beginning to form.

“You say yes,” he said with a scoffing laugh as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

You realized that to anyone else, it would be.

“Your majesty...I feel as if we’ve only just met. Surely, you would allow me time to think-.”

“Think about what?”

His hand tightened on yours, and you winced. He leaned in, genuine confusion in his dark eyes as he stared into your own.

“I am a king telling you that you are to be my queen...and you are hesitant?”

The severity of the situation suddenly dawned on you. Anthony was a king. You were a mere lady attempting to refuse his proposal for marriage, and your heart sank to your stomach. You blinked at him, and his face suddenly smoothed over as he sighed.

“Ah. I understand what this is about…”

“You do…?”

He softly smiled at you, reaching up to brush his thumb along your chin.

“You come from an acceptable background. You are beautiful and smart and kind. I assure you, this is genuine. This is not some poor attempt to cope with my grief. In all honesty, my marriage to the queen was over long before she died,” he told you.

You looked away, realizing that you were not getting out of this. Whether you liked it or not, you would be marrying the king, and with reluctance and a shaky voice, you accepted his proposal. He straightened when you did, a look of satisfaction on his features, and he looked as if he wanted to kiss you. You were thankful that he did not.

The wedding took place only a couple of months later, every nearby royal, and even some across the water, in attendance. It was a grand and beautiful affair, no expense spared, and it was days later that you found out it far outshined his first wedding. You remembered feeling sick as you walked down the aisle, the feeling only getting worse as your gaze met that of the prince.

In the time since the official engagement, you had interacted with the prince only a handful of times. Each time more disastrous than the last. You told yourself that he was grieving. His mother’s death was sudden and had hit him hard and here his father was, marrying again so soon. You did not fault him for his cold behavior. He was young, after all. You would expect nothing less, to be honest, but you could not lie and say that it did not hurt.

Unfortunately, even after the marriage, he did not soften towards you. Every attempt to get to know him was met with nothing short of loathing, and you finally accepted that he would come around in his own time. The last thing you wanted Peter to think was that you were trying to replace his mother. You did not know how long this would go on, but you did not expect it to be more than a year. 

You were wrong.

“I throw that kid the best birthday celebration a nineteen year old could ask for and this is how he shows his appreciation? By not even having the decency to show up?”

Tony was angry as he sipped from his goblet, glaring down at the attendees dancing below. A wonderful number was being played by a string quartet, several single princesses in attendance, and an hour into the celebration, Peter was still absent. You placed your hand on your husband’s arm with a sigh.

“I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, Tony. He will show,” you tried to assure him.

His shoulders sagged as he slammed his drink down, and his eyes softened as he turned to you. He reached for you, and you flinched, but he paid it no mind as he brushed his finger along your cheek.

“You are far too nice to him...and he hardly deserves it,” he whispered.

“He’s your son,” you reminded him with a frown. “Do not talk about him like that.”

“He’s ungrateful,” he spat.

“He’s grieving,” you argued.

“It’s been a year,” Tony sneered. “How much time does he need?”

You sharply turned away, swallowing a sigh as anger flared within you. Sometimes Tony could be so insensitive, amongst other things, and it baffled you. Peter lost the only mother he ever knew, and Tony was treating it as if it was something minor. After a few more moments, you excused yourself under the guise of needing some air. In truth, you were determined to track down the prince.

It was not a hard task. He tended to frequent the same places when he called himself hiding. You found him deep within the grounds, lounging on a branch high up in the tree. It was getting late, the sun currently setting, and you held up the skirts of your dress as you trudged towards him. You knew that he heard you, and you resisted the urge to sigh as you stood below him. Your heart ached for him as you could not even begin to imagine what he was going through. After all, you still had both of your parents.

“Peter,” you eventually called.

He yet again pretended as if he had not heard you, a hurtful habit of his, and this time you did sigh.

“Peter, please come down. Your father is concerned about your whereabouts, and...and I am concerned about you. I-.”

“Why have you deluded yourself into thinking I care about how you feel?”

His tone was cold, venom coating every word, and your heart clenched. He rarely spoke to you, every time he did as cold as today, but this was different. You were unsure of what to say, and before you had the chance to remedy that, he was hopping down. It was a bit cool out, and his coat flared behind him as he strode towards you, face hard and nostrils flared.

“Why have you deluded yourself into thinking that I care about you at all?”

You reared back, staring at him with wide eyes. His words hurt, that you would not deny, and as much as you fought against it, you could feel a familiar burn behind your eyes. You swallowed, briefly glancing down as you took a step back.

“Peter-.”

“My mother was not even in the ground properly before you came sniffing around my father like a bitch in heat,” he sneered.

Your lips parted, wide eyes staring at him in shock at his words. You had never seen him look so hateful, borderline murderous, and you suddenly realized that this was about more than grief.

“P-Peter...that… That is not what happened-.”

“Isn’t it?” he wondered, taking another step towards you. “Do you think me stupid? Blind? You think I have never known of the way so many women prayed on my mother’s downfall?”

“I never-.”

“Do you think that I do not know that you all came to her funeral not as mourners, but as vultures? As desperate snakes trying to slip your way into my father’s bed so that you may take her place?”

“No! That is not what happened-!”

“You are no different from the rest!”

He was practically upon you now, glaring down his nose at you with so much disgust it finally made the tears spill over.

“I always knew that you were a desperate and conniving whore…”

You gasped, more tears falling at his insult. He raised one dark eyebrow at you.

“...but I never took you for a liar too.”

You were frozen as he looked you over one last time before breezing past you. You shook, unable to stop the tears, and you felt like you were going to be sick. You had no idea that Peter’s disdain was in fact not misplaced due to grief, but was instead as genuine as could be because he thought you to be something you were not. This knowledge made your heart hurt, and it turned out that you were not as adept at hiding your feelings as you thought.

“What troubles you so?” Tony wondered later that night, his hand on your shoulder as you sat at your vanity.

“Whatever do you mean?” you asked with a small smile.

His gaze met yours in the mirror, and the way his jaw clenched told you that he did not have much patience tonight. His fingers pressed into your skin, and you swallowed. You looked away, eyes blurring a bit as you recalled Peter’s cruel words.

“Peter hates me,” you confessed.

You heard Tony heave a sigh, and you turned to look up at him. He ran his hand through his hair as he rolled his eyes.

“That kid hates everyone and everything,” he replied.

“No, Tony. You do not understand. He believes me to be something I am not. He thinks that I schemed my way into marrying you, that I am trying to replace his mother-.”

“Peter will be just fine. He will grow to get over it in time,” was his enlightening reply, and you stood.

“But it is not true. Tony, does this not bother you? Because it bothers me! He should be like a son to me. He should be looking to me for guidance and care, and he curses the very ground I walk on. It hurts,” you spat, wrapping your arms around yourself. 

Tony’s entire demeanor softened, and he pulled you into his arms. He pressed his lips to your cheek, and you winced at the soreness before he took your chin in between his fingers. He tilted his head at you.

“I love that you’ve grown to really care about him. It warms my cold heart…”

You forced a chuckle at that.

“...but Peter has always been a bit difficult when it comes to me and anything in relation to me. His mother is really the only person he ever really connected with. This will pass, I assure you.”

You reluctantly accepted that Tony just did not care about this as much as you did, and likely never would. Against your better judgement, you opted to let it go, and softly exhaled when Tony pressed his lips to your jaw. He trailed kisses down your neck, tightening his arms around you.

“As much as I enjoy your big heart, I would rather not spend the rest of the night discussing my troubled son,” he murmured, lips finally finding yours.

You did not know if you would ever grow used to making love to Tony. The only time he had ever been anything close to gentle was on your wedding night, and you had still cried, waking up sore and bruised. It eventually dawned on you that this was simply how Tony was, but it did not mean that you had to like it. 

The years that passed did not improve things as you’d hoped they would. Tony was still the same as ever, and Peter was no different. Your conversations with the prince were rare, but every one was brief and left you with a paralyzing chill. When he was not speaking to you, his animosity was enough to force you to keep your distance. The hurt that his behavior caused never got any easier. 

“When you have a child of your own, this will mean nothing to you,” Tony would assure you.

However, it only did the opposite. Even though Peter was not your own, it did not mean that you viewed him any less, and you knew that would not change when you finally did have a child. Whenever that happened. You and Tony had been trying for years, and there was still nothing to show for it. It was a great source of stress for you both, but Tony was taking it much harder than you.

“They say that it took many tries before they were finally able to have Peter, and even afterwards...the queen was never able to conceive again,” Guinevere had whispered to you one night.

“Oh,” you sadly said. “How awful…”

The blonde girl had glanced around the busy kitchen before leaning in.

“The king will never admit it, but many believe that he was the problem, and considering he is experiencing the same thing with you…”

Your heart sank as she trailed off, and despite everything, you found yourself feeling sorry for your husband. Many would argue that you should feel sorry for yourself. After all, it was a popular opinion that the woman’s womb was always at fault, and kings have gotten rid of their wives for less, but you knew that Tony was far too possessive of you to ever do such a thing.

It was a subject you wished you could talk to Peter about. He knew his father far better than you did, and sometimes you wished you could get some insight on how to make this better for him, but Peter was disgusted by your very presence. There came a time when you reluctantly accepted that it might always be this way, but everything changed when Peter was only a few weeks shy of his twenty-third birthday.

Tony, ever the showoff, was having a ball every week for five weeks straight leading up to the night. It was the second gathering when he had dragged you out of the great hall. His hold had been tight, steps hurried, and you forced yourself to swallow down the pain. The corridor was dimly lit and equally as empty, and tears of frustration were kissing your eyes.

“Tony-.”

“I saw you,” he spat.

“Saw me what? Saw me greet one of your friends? Because that is exactly what King Steven is to me and nothing more!”

His dark eyes were hard as he pressed his fingers into your arms, lip curled over his teeth as he sneered at you.

“He desires you. It is plain as day, and he has never been subtle,” he bit out.

“Somehow I am at fault for that? Steven is a bachelor in every sense of the word. That is how he is, and you know it-.”

“Yes, but I thought to myself, surely my loving wife would have the sense not to entertain his antics!”

“I was being polite,” you told him, wincing at his tight grip. “Just because you are only ever nice to people when you want something-.”

You swallowed your words with a sharp shriek, pressing your hand to your hot cheek as the tears finally spilled over. Your eyes were on the floor as Tony shook you, a scathing remark on his tongue, no doubt, when he suddenly stilled, swallowing whatever he was about to say. His sudden change confused you, and you hesitantly looked up only to realize that his gaze was not on you. You turned to find Peter standing just at the entrance of the corridor, his wide eyes on the two of you. 

Tony was quick in straightening you up, and you hurriedly looked away as he acknowledged Peter.

“Why are you not enjoying your celebration with your friends?”

It was a while before Peter responded.

“I noticed that you had slipped out, so I came to find you. I had hoped to continue our...conversation from earlier,” the prince answered.

When you turned back around, you avoided Peter’s eye, but you could still feel the weight of his gaze. Tony’s hand was rubbing into your back as he responded.

“Of course. Sweetheart, you will excuse us, won’t you? Peter and I have much to discuss, and I am sure the other wives are missing your presence,” he said, turning to you.

He threw you a tense and threatening smile, and you shakily returned it with a forced one.

“Of course. I shall see you in there when you return. Peter,” you acknowledged as you hurried past him, avoiding his gaze still.

You did not return to the hall though, but instead made your way down to the kitchen. It was filled with servants, and Mary Jane gasped when she saw you. She and Guinevere were always joined at the hip, but the other girl had been ill for the last few days. The redhead dropped what she was doing, shooing another servant off of a stool before grabbing your arm.

“My God,” she breathed.

The other occupants tended to the food and drinks, much too used to seeing you down here twice a week or so. Mary Jane pressed a cold piece of steak to your face, and you hissed.

“Is it that bad?”

“It is swelling already, your majesty,” she said.

You shifted on the seat, holding the cold meat to your face as you shooed her off.

“I hardly notice how hard he hits anymore. It still manages to shock me every time though, and I have no idea as to why,” you whispered.

She was just about to reply when another voice rang throughout the kitchen.

“Everyone out.”

You turned with wide eyes, confusion tearing through you at the sight of Peter just at the bottom of the stairs. Everyone seemed to hesitate for a moment, worrying about the food, no doubt, before eventually heeding his order. Mary Jane, no stranger to your relationship with the prince, threw you a worrying look before being the last one out. Peter seemed to hesitate as well before huffing, quickly approaching you.

You moved to stop him, but he was already pulling the red meat from your cheek before you had the chance. He stared at your skin for a while before putting it back in place. You held it there as he leaned against the counter, a familiar look of anger on his boyish features.

“This is not the first time this has happened,” he murmured.

There was no need to respond. It was a statement, not an answer. The silence was heavy, thick with tension and filled with words unspoken. Outside of that night, this was the longest you had ever been alone with Peter, and the first time you did not feel uncomfortable in his presence.

“You did not want to marry my father...did you?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, lips parting to refute such a blasphemous statement, but no words came out. Words failed you. Peter was a smart young man, always had been, and you were sure that he would see through whatever lie you pieced together.

“Of course, it was not like you could refuse if you wanted to. He is a king, and you were a mere lady,” he said more to himself than you.

You sighed, putting the steak down as you stood.

“My father has never been kind to anyone in his life. I do not know why I thought you were an exception…”

“Peter… I do not want this to affect how you view your father, do you understand?”

He simply frowned at you, and you continued.

“He is not without his flaws, this is true,” you slowly said. “...but he is still your father. In his own way, he loves you and only wants what is best.”

Peter stared at you for a while before scoffing, a humorless laugh not far behind. He pressed his hand to the counter as he stared at you with a look of shock.

“My father does not deserve you,” he said, almost as if he could not believe it.

He chuckled again, pressing his hand to his forehead.

“All this time, I thought that the two of you deserved each other. I hated you...and now...now I just feel sorry for you. For both my father...and me…,” he quietly finished.

“Peter-.”

“I have been nothing but cruel to you, and for that I am sorry. I am sorry for the things that I have done...and the things that I have said.”

You blinked, convinced that you would never hear those words. They warmed your heart, and you looked away.

“It’s alright. You believed what you believed, and if I were in your shoes, I might have believed the same. Your feelings were valid, Peter,” you told him.

He blinked at you.

“I never wanted to replace your mother. That is still not what I desire...but I am here. I know that there is only a decade between us, but I have come to love you like a son despite everything.”

Peter’s eyes softened, and you could see the guilt there.

“I never wanted to rush you, even now, but I hope that you will view me the same one day. Tony is no longer your only parent, and I am always here.”

Peter looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he held off.

“I should get back before your father comes looking for me,” you said, heading for the stairs. “Oh...and please refrain from provoking him.”

You looked to Peter.

“I may dislike him at times, but I do not want to send him to an early grave.”

Peter simply hummed, sending you a strained smile before you left him to find your husband.

You remained in the corridor as the angry voices bled through the door. Both Tony and Peter assured you countless times that their strained relationship was none of your concern, but it could not be helped. They had never had the best relationship, but if possible, it had soured even more over the years, and you were unsure of who to blame.

The minute Tony started to get more serious about grooming Peter for the throne, things had gone from tense and strained to borderline violent at times. Not only did the two have such opposing views when it came to how to run the kingdom, but your husband had been pushing the idea of marriage more and more lately. It had only gotten worse when Peter neared his twenty-fifth birthday, the party on that fateful day ending abruptly when Peter had stormed out.

You were pulled from your reverie when the door swung open. Peter was the first one out, and he held up a hand as you moved to approach him.

“Not now, Y/N,” he huffed, quickly striding down the corridor with a frustrated sigh.

Tony emerged not long after, and you moved to kiss him, knowing that it would soothe him for the time being.

“That boy will be the death of me,” he complained.

“You both provoke each other, and I do not know why,” you told him. 

“He has duties! He is twenty-five and nowhere near taking them seriously. It seems that he is determined to ruin me,” he spat.

You sighed.

“Would you like for me to talk to him?”

“You seem to be the only one he actually listens to, so by all means,” he gestured down the hall, face cloudy.

You patted his chest before leaving him, wondering if a day would come where you would be a functional family. You and Peter were nowhere near what you used to be, and for that you were eternally grateful, but his relationship with Tony was far worse than it had ever been, and you did not know how to even begin to fix it.

You found Peter sparring with his dueling instructor. The sound of clashing swords was loud, and you rounded the corner, wincing when Peter just narrowly missed a rather dangerous blow. He motioned for the other gentleman to stop once he spotted you.

“Come on his behalf, have you?”

“Peter,” you sighed.

He snapped at the other man.

“Give your queen a sword, will you? Come,” he was talking to you now. “Spar with me.”

You reluctantly accepted the other man’s sword, a grimace on your face as you stepped forward.

“I am a horrible dueling partner,” you complained.

“Nonsense, Y/N. You are far better than what you were a year ago,” Peter said with a chuckle.

Your heart sank a bit at the sound of your name, but it did not distract you from blocking the swing of his sword with your own. Peter smirked at you.

“See?”

“Peter, this is not why I am here,” you told him.

“Of course not,” he calmly said. “My father knows that between the two of you, you are the only one I actually respect. He believes that you have some sway over me...and I am not reluctant to admit that he is right.”

He blocked your blow, quick to do so again when you swung your sword down towards his legs. He eyed you, a bit of pride in his gaze.

“Very good,” he praised.

“I was hoping to talk you into agreeing to some sort of compromise with him. Any compromise, really.”

Peter let out a humorless laugh, spinning before bringing his sword down over his head. Your eyes were wide as you lifted your sword, the sound of them clashing meeting your ears.

“There is no compromising with that man. He is determined to bring this kingdom and all of its subjects to ruin, and he wishes for me to just stand back and watch. He does not hear a word I say,” he spat.

He swiped his sword at you, several times and in several different successions. Unable to keep up, you were not surprised when your sword was knocked from your hands. You did not flinch when the tip of his blade found your throat, confident that Peter would never hurt you. He pressed the tip further, eyes locked on yours, and you swallowed.

“Do you agree with him?”

“Of course not,” you honestly answered.

Peter lightly dragged his blade down your neck and towards the top of your dress, his eyes following its movement before he quickly snatched it away. He tilted his head at you, raising an eyebrow as he waited for you to continue.

“You know I do not agree with how your father runs this kingdom, but I have no say. I never did. Believe it or not, Peter, you have much more influence than I do.”

He turned away with a disbelieving laugh.

“Somehow, I doubt that…”

“Look, I am going to say something that I know you are not going to like,” you suddenly said.

Peter did not respond, so you continued.

“I think that you should consider marriage.”

You saw him straighten at that, back tense, and you rushed to say something else.

“If Tony feels that you are taking your future seriously, then he will be more inclined to take you seriously.”

He turned to you with a withering look, and you rolled your eyes.

“Do not look at me that way. I am not saying that you have to marry some poor girl right away, but at least make an effort to look around, and show Tony that you are attempting to meet him halfway,” you advised.

Peter gave you a hard stare for the longest time before eventually rolling his eyes and looking away.

“Very well. You always do get your way, don’t you, Y/N?”

Your mouth parted for a moment before you snapped it shut, looking down. This did not go unnoticed by Peter, and he neared you.

“What is it, now?”

Your eyes met his, and you tried to hide your hurt, but it must have been clear as day. Peter’s entire demeanor softened, and he stuck his sword in the dirt, reaching for you.

“What is it?”

You exhaled.

“That...is another thing I had hoped to discuss with you.”

He frowned in confusion.

“You still refer to me by my name…” you watched as his face fell. “And I do not wish to rush you, I never have, but when you say my name...it makes me feel as if I am doing something wrong here.”

“You are not,” he rushed to assure you. “Believe me…”

“I do not want to replace your mother, but if I am doing something-.”

“It is merely a force of habit. That is all,” he interrupted. 

“You are sure…?”

“Positive,” he said with a small smile.

“...okay,” you said with a nod. “...and what will you be doing after this...?”

“I will be speaking with my father,” he reluctantly told you.

“Good,” you said, Peter bending to allow you to quickly peck his forehead. “...and please be polite. I hate the way you two provoke each other.”

He roughly exhaled.

“Yes...mother…,” he seemed to bite out, eyes on you.

You looked to him with wide eyes, heart swelling as your smile grew. You chuckled, kissing his forehead one last time before leaving him to finish his instruction.

Contrary to what you had hoped, your advice did not improve things. Now that Peter had agreed to at least looking for a wife, it just gave him and Tony one more thing to disagree on, and disagreements about the smallest of things only gave room for disagreements about more serious matters. Peter hated the way Tony ran the kingdom, and you could not fault him for that.

Meals were more tense than ever, and it soon became suffocating to be in the same room as father and son. You did your best to keep the peace between them but there was only so much you could do. Especially when the arguments would get so intense that you feared for them. Tony could get so angry, and while you had never known him to put his hands on Peter as he did you, it still worried you that he might one day. And Peter…

Sometimes Peter would get a look in his eye that chilled you to the bone. He would get so fed up with his father, lips pressed together as Tony tore into him, and you would see the younger man’s eyes flash with something you could not name. It was a look that terrified you and made him look like someone that was not Peter, at all. 

Tensions only mounted as your birthday neared. You did not want either of them involved in the party planning process, convinced this would be the final nail in the coffin. Truth be told, it was also for yourself as well. It allowed you to breathe better.

“The party is tomorrow night, and Peter has yet to have the last fitting for his attire,” you told Mary Jane as you stood.

“I can finish this up, your majesty, while you go find Peter,” she replied.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! I am almost finished, anyway.”

“Wonderful! I shall return shortly. There are only so many places he could be at this hour…”

The corridors were scarcely occupied as you decided to check Peter’s chambers first, making your way to his wing of the castle. You were unsurprised to find them empty, and you quickly made your way outside. He had a habit of frequenting the grounds, the maze especially, and you were confident that you would find him there then. 

You had not been inside the maze for a while, but you remembered how to navigate it vividly. You were deep within it, somewhere in the middle perfectly between the beginning and the end when you stumbled upon a sight you were not prepared for.

At the other end of a long stretch, were a couple, far too wrapped up in each other to notice your presence. You felt your face heat up as you stumbled upon the lovers, and you were prepared to turn back when the young man lifted his head, familiar eyes meeting yours. A gasp escaped you, and you were frozen on the spot as Peter simply stared at you.

He did not break his gaze as he continued to thrust into the woman beneath him, who you absentmindedly recognized as Guinevere. Her eyes were closed, clinging to Peter as moans tumbled from her lips, and even though Peter was silent as he stared at you, the heat in his eyes was undeniable. Finally coming to your senses, you willed your feet to move, but you did not escape in time to miss the way Peter’s deep moan rang throughout the air.

Upon your return, you told Mary Jane that you were unable to find Peter. You did not want to think of the awkward encounter, and told yourself that the tailor had never been wrong before. You were positive that Peter’s attire would fit. You did not see the young man again until the following day, your birthday, and it was only an hour or so until your party. Tony was meeting with a few of his Lords when there was a knock on your chamber door.

You were quick to answer it, surprised to find Peter on the other side. You only felt uncomfortable for a moment before you took in his attire. You beamed, widening the door to allow him in.

“Oh, Peter, you look positively dashing!”

“Did you doubt that I would?” he smugly wondered.

You threw him a look.

“I swear, you are getting more and more like your father every day,” you told him with a chuckle.

“I got you something,” he suddenly said, and it was only then did you notice the box in his hand.

You blinked in surprise, eyes widening when he opened it to reveal the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. The ruby heart in the middle was positively blinding, standing out against the rest of the diamonds that made up the band. You pressed your hand to your chest, mouth parting.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Oh my… Peter, this is so sweet of you,” you told him.

“Well,” he started, setting the box aside as he took the piece of jewelry into his hands. “It is not every day that one turns thirty-six.”

He motioned for you to spin around, and you obliged.

“This might also double as an apology for yesterday. I regret that you had to see that,” he chuckled.

You joined him, waving him off.

“Nonsense, Peter. It was a bit of a shock, but nothing more. You are a young man, after all, and I could never fault you for doing what young men do. You are treating Guinevere well, I hope? She is a sweet girl.”

Peter groaned.

“Yes, Y/N.”

Your heart sank at the sound of your name, and you frowned a bit.

“I am treating her just fine,” he assured you.

You chose not to comment on his use of your name, wondering if you had done something wrong.

“Would you ever consider marrying her?” you pushed.

Peter was quiet as he brought his hands over to lower the necklace at your neck. It was not one that rested at your décolletage, but at your throat instead, and your eyes widened a bit when he pulled it back. You reached up to your neck, forced to stumble back into his chest to keep from choking, relaxing a bit when he finally clasped it together.

“No,” was his simple answer. “It is not like that.”

He rested his hands on your shoulder, turning you around to admire you. His dark eyes took you in before finally focusing on the necklace, the corner of his lips lifting a bit. He pressed his finger to the ruby heart, drawing patterns over it before eventually stepping away.

“It looks great,” he told you.

“Thank you. We should track down your father before they start my own celebration without me,” you replied.

It was not long after that the three of you were entering the great hall, a smile on your face as everyone greeted you. Tony and Peter were at your sides, and both of their hands rested at the small of your back as they guided you to the royal table at the head of the room. Everyone only quieted down when you took your seats, and you looked down at the familiar faces with a smile.

Your attention was drawn to Peter as he stood, raising his glass as a servant came by to fill them. He only filled yours and Peters, but another quickly came to fill Tony’s. Once everyone’s glasses were filled, that was when Peter spoke.

“I would like to propose a toast…”

He turned to look down at you, dark eyes unreadable as he swallowed.

“...to the woman who loved me even when I did not deserve it.”

Your heart swelled as you smiled at Peter, so happy that you two had come this far.

“No one could ever replace my mother...and I would not want them to, but you, Y/N, you are the next best thing.”

Your eyes softened, realizing that while maybe Peter did not see you as something akin to a mother just yet, he still loved you, and that gave you hope. You could live with that for now. Peter’s eyes fell onto his father, and he suddenly smiled.

“...and to my father, the king. If it were not for you, Y/N would never have come into our lives.”

His voice was even, but his eyes glinted before he turned to the rest of the royal court, his glass held high.

“To the king and queen. Long may they reign,” his voice traveled over the room.

Everyone else repeated his words before taking a drink, you and Tony following suit. As you set your glass down, you watched, a bit concerned, as Peter swallowed all of his wine, a look of satisfaction on his face as he lowered his glass. You turned to Tony, prepared to ask him if he wished to say anything, just as he let out that first cough.

It sounded nasty, and you frowned, prepared to ask him if he drank too fast when he coughed again, blood staining his bottom lip. Your heart fell to your stomach, eyes widening as you reached for him, hands trembling. You were prepared to call for help when you noted the sound of several coughs reaching your ears, followed by screams.

When you turned towards the rest of the room, you saw every single one of the royal court coughing up blood, and you stood on unsteady legs as understanding dawned on you. You reached for Peter, your hand gripping his arm as fear and horror clung to you.

“P-Peter…”

You looked to him, but his face was stony as he looked down at everyone. The only people who were okay were you, Peter, the servants, and the few guards. You watched as Peter waved his hand, confusion filling you as two guards opened the door to let more in. You were frozen as they all drew their swords, stomach churning as you realized what was about to happen. You turned back to Peter, but he was already moving past you.

“Peter, what- what is happening? What are you doing?”

You lunged for him as he drew a dagger, hand fisted into his fathers hair to pull the struggling man’s head back.

“Peter, no!”

He shoved you away, right into the arms of a waiting guard, and you did not turn your head in time to miss the way he dragged the blade across his father’s neck. A scream left you, belonging to a voice that you did not recognize, and you continued to scream and cry as the guard backed up. Peter pointed at you, his father’s blood coating his hand, his face unrecognizable to you.

“Get her out of here…”

His eyes met yours, dark with a harmful intent that terrified you. Who was this man? He ran his eyes over you.

“...and do not let her get away.”

You fought against the guard as he dragged you away, kicking and screaming all the way. Your efforts did not even cease as you made it into the corridor, having been forced past the dead bodies of your friends and acquaintances. The guard towered over you and was easily double your size, so all of your efforts were useless. 

He only let you go when you reached Peter’s chambers, dragging you through the receiving chamber to toss you onto the floor of his bedchamber. The impact made your head spin, and by the time you pushed yourself to your feet, he was already pulling the door shut. You slammed your hands against it just as you heard it lock, and another sob threatened to escape you.

You had only ever been in Peter’s room a handful of times, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you looked around. Your chest hurt, heart breaking as you recalled the way Peter had so callously taken his father’s life. Your husband was dead, and it was no secret that the man was far from perfect, but his absence scared you. What would become of you now? Why did Peter not poison you like the rest? God, had his feelings never changed, at all? Had he still secretly hated you this whole time and wanted to get some sick satisfaction out of killing you here?

You lost count of how many times you tried the door before moving to the balcony doors. They too did not budge, and you kicked them in frustration. You could barely form a coherent thought, and more tears spilled over as you realized just how alone you were. You did not understand anything. Why would Peter do this?

As you heard someone enter his receiving chamber, it occurred to you that you might get your answer.

Your eyes met Peter’s as he entered his chambers, and you stumbled back, afraid to take your eyes off of him. You watched as he locked the door behind him, and the sight of that made your face crumble.

“What have you done?” you shakily asked.

The room was quiet save for your soft sobs, and you flinched when Peter took a step forward. He did not look like the young man you knew. He stood there in the dark attire he had picked out for your birthday, looking every bit like the murderous man you now knew him to be. A dark strand of hair kissed his forehead, jaw clenched as he eyed you. It started to lightly rain outside, and your eyes fell to the blood on his hands.

His father’s blood.

“Have you come to kill me too?”

Finally, his face shifted, and he frowned at you.

“Kill you?”

Peter scoffed, laughing to himself as he tilted his head at you.

“You could not be farther from the truth…”

“Then what do you plan to do? What are you doing, Peter? I do not understand…”

“My father was going to run this kingdom into the ground. We both know it…”

You started shaking your head before he was even done.

“Something had to be done.”

“Not like this! You killed him- you killed everyone,” you cried.

“...and here I thought you would be thanking me,” he sneered.

“Thanking you?”

“Unless I was wrong, and you enjoy being slapped around,” he threw at you.

You felt as if you were just slapped then, and you pressed your back into the wall, tightening your arms around yourself.

“Not like this, Peter. Not like this,” you tearfully murmured.

The rain got louder, filling the otherwise silent room with some noise, and you flinched when lightning flashed, shedding light on the room and on Peter’s dark gaze.

“What will become of me? Did you ever think about that? I am the widow of a murdered king. A king murdered by his own son in a coup!”

“...and the future wife of the next one,” Peter calmly stated.

You froze, his words failing to make sense despite the fact that you heard him just fine. Something about them did not sound right, and your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping you.

“What...what did you just say?” you hesitantly questioned. 

Peter took another step towards you, and you slid along the wall...away from him.

“Do you have any idea how much it pained me to watch you with him?”

“Peter…”

You shook your head, still moving away as he moved closer.

“Do know what it was like to watch him mistreat you again and again only to turn around and reap the spoils of his marriage as if he had not just caused you harm only moments before?”

His voice was low, thick with something you were too disgusted to name. Your eyes were wide, filled with tears as the reality of the situation dawned on you. Peter’s feelings, his father’s murder...the two of you alone in a castle full of people that have proven their loyalty to him. Peter was only eighteen when you married the king, standing face to face with you, but now, eight years later, the young man towered over you.

He suddenly chuckled, and the sound terrified you more than anything now.

“I find it funny… My father was always telling me that royals take. We take what is ours. We take what we believe we should have. That is what we do, son,” he mocked. “We take.”

His cold eyes bore into yours as you stumbled away from him. In a circle the two of you went, and you pulled on the handle of the door as you pressed your back to it. Fresh tears spilled as it refused to budge.

“Now look. I have taken his life, I have taken his kingdom, and I have taken the woman he thought belonged to him-.”

He swallowed the rest of his words as you suddenly dived to the other side of the room. Peter followed, and you reached up to pull the portrait from the wall, tossing it at him only for Peter to evade it. You frantically crawled across the bed, kicking Peter in the chest as he reached for your ankle. You fell to your knees on the other side, running to the balcony doors with tears in your eyes.

Again, the doors would not budge, and you were prepared to throw yourself through the glass when Peter was suddenly there at your back. He enclosed you in his arms, and you reached back to fight against him and push him away, but he only pinned you between him and the glass. The sound of the thunder drowned out your screams, and you yelped in shock when he fisted a hand in your hair, yanking your head to the side.

Peter was determined to taste you, tongue and teeth brushing your skin as he ground himself against you. Nothing you did seemed to deter him, and it suddenly felt hard to breathe. The storm raged outside, wind pushing rain against the window. One of Peter’s hands dragged up your leg, pushing the skirts of your dress with it, and you slammed your hands against the window, attempting to push back.

This only egged him on, and he moaned in your ear.

“Peter, please,” you begged

You could feel the air against you, and your efforts to get away only increased when you felt him moving to release himself. The hand in your hair moved to your neck, cutting off your airway as he pulled your head back to rest against him. You struggled to breathe, nails scraping against the glass. He leaned down to cover your lips with his own, kissing you for the first time, and you sharply inhaled.

He moaned at the taste of you, his tongue meeting yours, tasting the wine that you wish had killed you too. You both struggled against the window, your hands turning into fists when he pushed his leg between yours, quickly followed by the other. You turned your head away, your small victory overshadowed by your ultimate defeat as he thrust into you. You yelped just as Peter shuddered against your back, a long sigh escaping him as he pressed a hand into the glass beside your head.

He pressed his face into your hair, grinding against you, the sound of him breathing you in reaching your ears. Your own forehead was pressed to the glass now, tearful eyes taking in the storm as Peter dragged his cock in and out of your unwilling core. Your body shook from both your sobs and his ministrations, and again, you pushed against the glass in hopes to push him away.

He merely shoved his chest into your back, forcing you back against the glass before wrapping his arms around you again. One hand pulled at the neckline of your dress, ripping it straight down, and your lashes fluttered when he slipped his hand beneath the fabric to roll his fingers over you. His other arm came across your middle, pinning your own at your sides.

“You are finally mine,” he breathed after a while.

You shook your head in denial, another lightning strike bathing the room in a glow. It was gone as quickly as it came, and you were forced to focus on Peter’s reflection in the window. He was lost in the euphoria of you, the feel of you wrapped around him, sucking him back in again and again.

“Finally,” he groaned. “At my side and in my bed as my queen…”

His hand slipped from beneath the torn fabric of your dress, dancing along your skin before his fingers brushed over the diamond choker at your neck.

“I have all night to claim you as mine, and no one is around to stop me.”

“Peter, this is not you-.”

“Oh, but it is,” he sighed. “This is the man you loved when he did not deserve it. This is the man you will marry, bear children with…’

You let out a choked sob, fresh tears falling at his words.

“Oh, please. Everyone knew that my father was the problem. He was the only one in denial about it, and I have a feeling that by the time I am done with you, you shall be with child by tomorrow.”

“Peter, please,” you screamed.

His hand tightened on your throat, pulling your head back so you were forced to stare at the ceiling, back arched to take his slow and purposeful thrusts. He kissed the corner of your eye before doing the same to your cheek. His breathing was choppy, heart pounding in his chest, and the way his hips stuttered told you that he was close.

“Oh God,” he moaned, stilling against your back as he spilled himself into you.

You froze against him at the feel, realizing that there was no turning back. You shook in his hold, feeling the urge to be sick when he suddenly pulled out of you, replacing his cock with his fingers. You gasped, reaching down to grab his wrist as he shoved a second finger inside of you, the wet sound of it reaching your ears even with the rain outside. He pressed you to his chest as he curled his fingers into you.

You bucked your hips, ashamed with your actions as he pulled pleasure from you like it was nothing. LIke he somehow knew your body better than you did. His lips were at your ear, brushing against your skin before he trailed them to your neck again, pressing kisses there. Your nails dug into his wrist, but he paid your efforts no mind as he thrust his fingers into you, setting a pace that had your legs shaking. You knew that if it were not for his hold, you would have collapsed already.

Peter hummed when your breath hitched.

“You are close...aren’t you?”

“Peter...stop,” you shakily begged.

“I shall stop when I feel your arousal dripping down my hand,” he purred.

His words had you clenching around him, and he moaned against your neck.

“I suppose I cannot blame my father for being so possessive of you. Your walls feel like heaven…”

“Peter…”

“I do not know how I will ever allow you to leave our bed-.”

“Peter-.”

“I guess I shall just have to keep you tired…”

“Please-!”

“Come for me, Y/N. Fall apart for your king,” he whispered.

And you did. You seized in his arms, walls clenching around him, your arousal coating his fingers and dripping down his hand. Your nails drew blood, but he only moaned with you, cursing as you rode yourself on his fingers, your other hand reaching back to twist into his shirt. That was the hardest you ever came, and shame filled you.  As you came down from your high, Peter lowered the both of you to the floor.

It was only then did you notice the bloody handprints on the glass. The same blood on you, no doubt. More tears sprung forth as it all seemed to hit you, and Peter forced your head onto his shoulder as he shushed you. You obliged, and he leaned down to press his lips to your forehead, rocking you as you sobbed in his tightening arms.

~

tags:   @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie  @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @mcudarklibrary @melli0112 @buckybarnesplumwhore @dramaholic18​

[earnestly-endlessly]

hey!! Your fic recommendations are always elite–I was wondering if you had any kid fics, thank you <3

Hi anon. I have plenty of kid fics for you. Since you didn't quite specify what kind of kid fic you wanted I decided to divide it into fics where Charles and Erik are kids or get deaged and fics that involve kids. This is kind of a long list so I hope that there are plenty of new fics for you to read.

Cherik Kid Fic

--They are kids or get deaged--

Conspiracy of Kisses - Alaceron

Summary: Seven-year-old Erik needs to keep his telepathic best friend Charles from finding out that he wants to kiss him. But that's okay, because he has a plan - he'll put on a tinfoil hat.

Chasing After You - Alaceron

Summary: Charles isn't very good at tag. Erik helps

We’ll be the sum - afrocurl, ninemoons42

Summary: In between bouts of blanket burrito-ing and vegging out on movies, Charles and Erik figure out how they currently feel about each other.

Of course, they're schoolboys and they're on a sleepover and also Edie dotes on them both excessively, so things work out just fine.

Growing pains - ikeracity

Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Valentine’s day – ikeracity

Summary: Kid fic! Erik waits impatiently all day at school to give Charles a card for Valentine's Day. Maybe Charles has something for him too...?

Now You Know You Know it Now – luninosity

Summary: Erik’s not sure why he keeps glancing at the other boy. Not as if Erik likes other kids, or other people in general, for that matter. But still—he finds himself looking. Again.

This Family Comes with Batteries - Fishwrites, lynneh

Summary: An orphaned Charles Xavier goes to live with his Godfather: Tony Stark. This story is a tale of what would have happened to the events of MCU, if Tony was raising a six year old telepath in Stark Tower. There is also the matter of Charles' robot AI manny/bodyguard/tutor/only-friend, David.

You’re Not Doing This Alone – flightinflame, Lynds

Summary: What's meant to be a simple recruitment mission leads to both Erik and Charles being de-aged back to thirteen years old. Terrified and out of their depth, the boys try to hide their situation and help each other until they can work out what is going on.

Charles Xavier, A Retelling – Extra_fried_noodles

Summary: An attempt to reverse his paralysis goes wrong, and Charles is de-aged into a 2 year old toddler. While Hank scrambles to fix the situation, the whole gang is here to help. Through a mix of selective memory, they watch Charles relive his childhood, revealing some deeply hidden and painful truths.

Protective Instinct – Groovyhornbill

Summary: Charles and Erik were testing Cerebro’s new prototype when things went very wrong.

Divergence – Lynds

Summary: Universes and timelines collide, dropping two younger versions of Charles Xavier into the midst of the hunt for Sebastian Shaw. Now the newly formed X-men have to deal with a strangely quiet and self-reliant six year old, and a sixteen year old covered in bruises.

Erik, in particular, has to accept that the man he loves hasn't had the kind, happy upbringing he wished for him. But these children are here now, and Erik's not going to let anyone hurt them this time.

--Where they have kids--

Sink or Swim – endingthemes

Summary: Erik is a struggling single dad of three kids with a burning hatred for Sebastian Shaw, the man who wronged him years ago. He’s tried to move on with his life, but a run-in with Shaw’s rude, spoiled omega, Charles, drags up old anger. When Charles ends up in the hospital after an accident, Erik goes to confront him only to find that Charles has amnesia. In the confusion, Charles mistakenly assumes that Erik is his mate.

Erik knows he should clear up the misunderstanding, but how can he pass up this perfect chance for a little revenge?

(An Overboard AU)

Rumor Has It - blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Words and Pictures – pocky_slash

Summary: When Lorna's powers manifest early, Charles Xavier's mutant picture books are the perfect teaching tool. Erik just hadn't expected the author to be so young. Or attractive. Or available.

Write this number down (you can call it anytime) – pocky_slash

Summary: When Erik upsets his children, they have a habit of running away from home--and straight to Charles' school for cookies and consolation. Charles doesn't mind the visitors, but as they appear more and more frequently, he realizes that sooner or later, he and Erik are going to have to talk about what happened on the beach and what it means for their future and the future of Erik's children.

Dress Your Family in Plaid and Skinny Jeans – cygnaut

Summary: Erik and Charles meet at the mutant playgroup/parenting support circle and they instantly hit it off. And so do their kids, Lorna and David.

Not What I was Expecting (So Much Better) – lazulisong

Summary: Erik, the single father, hires Charles, the grad student with the slightly shady past, to be his manny.

Heli Cases – Black_Betty

Summary: "Heli Cases" is a program on PBS whose aim is to educate on the rapidly increasing occurrence of genetic mutation in the general populous by breaking the complex science down into palatable, easy to digest pieces.

It is also the only thing that helps Erik get his fussy daughter to fall asleep.

(Featuring Dadneto, baby Lorna and the struggles of single fatherhood, and Charles as the host of a late night show about genetics.)

Doing Something for Yourself – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik is a hard working engineer and single dad, Charles runs a local Community Center where Wanda and Pietro spend their time after school. Erik accidentally makes Charles' acquaintance one Wednesday evening when he's running late from work. Erik has no idea if he stands a chance with his new acquaintance, but that isn't going to keep him from falling for the guy.

A Good Dad – listerinezero

Summary: Ten years later, Magneto has left the Brotherhood and Raven asks Charles to help her find him. Charles discovers that Erik is the single father of five year old twins Wanda and Pietro, and he is doing everything he can to keep them safe from his former enemies.

Take a Chance (On Me) – Ook

Summary: In which Charles, terrorised by his abusive ex, takes his young son to a small town in America, where they both settle down and make friends with their neighbours. Particularly the town mechanic, Erik, and his foster son, Alex. Requester stated they wanted to "drown in H/C. "

Can’t Buy Me Love – niniblack

Summary: Erik's a single dad struggling to make it work and nab the promotion he's been waiting for. The last thing he needs is to get involved with politician and notorious playboy Charles Xavier.

(The Maid in Manhattan pastiche that no one asked for.)

Ohana – royal_chandler

Summary: Erik's children are absolute hellions. If by hellions, one means children who are incredibly protective of their new family unit and won't let a few household mishaps get in the way of keeping it together.

One Second and a Million Miles – magneto

Summary: Between being a parent to the best baby in the history of man-kind and co-running a Mutant Center in Hell's Kitchen, Erik Lehnsherr has his hands pretty full. Too full, certainly for romance; something that has never really been on his radar to begin with.

All that changes, however, when he meets Dr. Charles Xavier. Handsome, intelligent, capable, kind, an Omega level telepath, and one of the best pediatricians in the state, he's everything Erik didn't know he was looking for. But he's also Lorna's pediatrician which means, of course, he's off-limits. Except how is Erik supposed to try and forget his crush when he and Charles keep running into each other as if fate is trying to tell them something? When, as Charles says, they seem to want the same thing?

Her Only Mutations Were Her Blue Eyes and Her Auburn Hair – Pookaseraph

Summary: While sneaking back out of Russia, Erik and Charles stumble across Anya, Erik's presumed dead daughter, and it changes quite a few little things along the way. Fluffy, self-indulgent, fix-it.

Despicably Yours – Cesare, veryorangecat

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr, AKA Magneto, is a supervillain without equal... except maybe one: Charles Xavier, AKA Professor X, AKA Erik's next door neighbor. When their competition heats up, Erik decides the only way to get ahead is to adopt four mutant orphans to infiltrate Charles's mansion.

Things don't go as planned.

The Wrong Impression – Rosawyn

Summary: Charles is trying to balance the responsibilities of his career with his responsibilities as a single father to a tiny baby. It's not something he ever thought he'd have to do, and it's not as easy as those women on the internet make it look! He does't have much of a social life (unless talking to his sister on the phone and attending a parents' class where he's the only guy count), and he doesn't even have time to think of dating. He's just trying to keep his job - and keep his son fed and healthy.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster".

Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.

Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.

Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

[catgirl-brain]

[ENG] Another Night - Kazui Mukuhara Voice Drama

Aand... it's been forever since this came out... I had a lot of trouble deciphering what Kazui was trying to say in some portions, so please take this translation with a grain of salt... It's super rough at some parts, sorry!

Kazui: Alright then… Let’s see how this turns out.

(door swings open)

Es: Sorry for the wait,

(door shuts)

Es: Prisoner number 7, Kazui.

Kazui: Excuse me,

(restrains Es)

Es: W-what!?

Kazui: Sorry, give me a second to be ridiculous here.

Es: (struggling) You…! That’s rude!

Kazui: Now, now… I won’t hurt you, so don’t be afraid…

Kazui: Huh..?

Es: (breaks free and gasps)

Kazui: What’s this…? I’ve suddenly lost my strength…

Es: (heavy breathing) Prisoner number 7, Kazui! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done!? You’ve just committed a serious crime.

Kazui: (hums)

Es: Hey! Are you listening to me, Kazui!?

Kazui: Prison guard-kun fought me when I squeezed them… That’s not the image I got from Futa’s account. I thought you’d overpower me,

Es: Huh?

Kazui: but you tried to get out as soon as I started, and - “What’s this?” I suddenly lost control of my own body.

Es: (huffs) I don’t know all the details either, I just know that a prisoner can’t attack the guard.

Kazui: I see… (laughs) But it’s not like a magic barrier- An old man like me wouldn’t be able to handle that… (As an old man, that helps) Still, in terms of reality… it feels a bit like it was hypnosis.

Es: Hey! I don’t care about that!

Kazui: Hm?

Es: Sit down there, Kazui!

Kazui: (chuckles) Ok, ok.

Es: The manner of these prisoners towards their prison guard... Don’t treat me as if I’m a kid, but that behavior is uncalled for... I'm not going to forgive you (for treating me like that), what do you have to say for yourself?

Kazui: Hmm…

Kazui: (claps) Sorry!

Es: Huh?

Kazui: Really- sorry, sorry! I was worried I’d get injured by you, Prison guard-kun. From now on I’ll try to get information safely. Depending on who they are, everyone has their own method of gathering information.

Es: Huh?

Kazui: I’m an anxious old man, so I just needed to verify if Prison guard-kun was armed or not.

Es: You...To do that sort of thing to me…

Kazui: Mm? I thought it would be fine, but I suppose it wasn’t.

Es: Oh? But I didn't like it.

Kazui: Oh, no no, I don’t mean to offend you. Well, it’s no problem, if we can’t attack you, you can’t attack us, either.

Es: Hmm? (approaches him)

Kazui: What are you doing?

Es: (slaps him)

Kazui: T...that hurts….!

Es: Hey, what’s wrong? I was able to attack you?

Kazui: That was uncalled for-!.. Even so... that seems to be true…

Es: What, should I have said that earlier? Should slap you again to see if it works that time?

Kazui: Aw, I get it! I’ll be patient… (clears throat) I suppose the guard has decided the situation… We’re just scared of unfamiliar situations, don't you hate it - not knowing things?

Kazui: If I can’t expect it, it could hurt me. Even if not, it's better to see first. There’s always something dangerous. And what’s more, from the beginning of this session, you seem unfazed by this “mechanism”- somewhere, it sounds like pieces of something are moving. (??)

Es: What are you trying to say?

Kazui: In other words, we’re divided into the positions of Guard and Prisoner. We’re both trying to glean the information we lack.

Kazui: I think it’s “fair” in that sense.

Es: Me and you guys… we’re “fair”?

Kazui: Well, that’s my guess. I was hoping that Prison guard-kun would agree with me if I decided it was okay.

Es: Hmm… but you’re such a chatty man.

Kazui: (laughs) That’s true (laughs) I’m worried all the time, this old man’s no good.

Es: Well, what you’re saying is pretty interesting. It’s true; at some times I don’t even know everything about MILGRAM.

Kazui: (affirmative hum)

Es: But! I am the Prison Guard of MILGRAM, and you’re a prisoner, that much is true.

Kazui: (hum)

Es: That’s the most important thing here. Now then, Prisoner number 7, Kazui. Let’s get started.

Kazui: Alright, very professional aren’t we? (laughs) Well, let me introduce myself. I like this too. This isn’t my first time introducing myself to you.

Kazui: Once again, it’s Mukuhara Kazui, age 39. Nice to meet you, Prison guard-kun.

Es: Hm. You guys are all murderous prisoners. Kazui, you shouldn’t be so cheerful.

Kazui: Murderous... is that it? Well, you’re not wrong there.

Es: Mm? Confess it then.

Kazui: Confess.. At the very least, I believe I’m a murderer. I admit that. I don’t know if that’s a good way to put it.

Es: A good way to put it…?

Kazui: And that’s all there is, for the most part. To me, there should be no murderers aside from me. (??????????????????????????????????????)

Es: What do you mean?

Kazui: For example, for what reason are you gathering us murderers here? That’s something a crazy person would do. Is there a better word other than “murderer”? The term is too broad.

Es: Hey, Kazui. This isn’t the time to be asking questions.

Kazui: And I’m not recognizable as a murderer, unless you know my crime. Why the hell are we even on trial? It doesn’t make sense.

Es: I don’t give a damn about all that. I am the one who will decide whether to forgive you or not.

Kazui: Oh, is that so? Even though I don’t know who you’re working for?

Es: They’re fluffy. And if there's a problem, they’ll show up.

Kazui: Hm..? It’s something like that..?

Es: Stop acting like a detective, it’s unpleasant.

Kazui: Okay, okay.

Es: (sighs) Kazui. How do you feel about the other prisoners?

Kazui: Oh, that’s a good one. Don’t worry, everyone is well and friendly. The younger ones often get stressed, but there seems to be a good balance.

Es: That answer would be the same no matter who you ask. Don’t worry about conflicts between prisoners.

Kazui: Isn’t that what’s happening right now? I don’t really know what’s in my head, and you don’t know what life is like outside of here (???)

Es: Hm?

Kazui: There's an air of good feelings around the prison. I would be okay with living here forever. Why have you prepared such an environment..?

Es: Hey! Stop trying to get the conversation off track!

Kazui: (laughs) I got caught. Forgive me, alright? I’m an old man, I can’t help teasing kids like you- I have to be a little mischievous.

Es: You’re the same as Shidou. I hate it. I swear, does every adult act this way?

Kazui: (laughs) Did Shidou-kun also do that? He’s really calm, isn’t he? Can’t take that one sitting down.

Es: Are you different? You seem just as childish.

Kazui: Mmm… Does it seem that way? That’s good.

Es: What’s good about that? I don’t get this.

Es: This is a place where your consciousness will reveal itself (?) calculated by the impressions from others, but they can easily lie.

Kazui: This is, this is… You’re pretty tough. (laughs) But you’re not showing your true self, and neither am I.

Es: Hm…

Kazui: But, I’m older, so I have to take more responsibility/I need to try harder when I’m around kids like you. I’m an old man, so I need to keep a smile on my face while hiding my fangs.. Even if you are young.

Es: I see..

Kazui: You can tell I’m lying… Well, that may be the case. Unfortunately for you adults are very good at lying.

Es: Adults, huh?

Kazui: You’ll be stumped(?). Although, maybe you have some mysterious power...

Es: (cute laugh) Hey, Kazui…

Kazui: Yeah?

Es: That’s exactly it.

Kazui: Eh?

Es: I see your weakness. I can look inside you and unravel the sounds of your heart… What’s more, that adult technique. (??)

Kazui: (laughing) What? What’s that supposed to mean?

Es: Stop laughing, it’s unpleasant.

Kazui: (oh hoho…) Oi, oi, What on Earth is going on here….

Es: Are you a sweet-natured man who takes his losses well? Or are you really someone else?

Kazui: (hums)

Es: I’m looking forward to seeing it… Is it possible to hide anything from it? (‘it’ being the MILGRAM machine that produces the songs). I see now...

Es: In time, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll see the vulnerabilities in the lies of a murderer.. Though I’ve already seen through it a while ago.

Kazui: So… You’re going to do all that?

Es: What do you think?

Kazui: Well, it’s not so bad… sounds just like an adult, doesn’t it?

Es: (laughs) Being an adult, huh… Don’t use that as an excuse for you behavior, coward*

Kazui: (offended sound)

Es: In this place, it doesn’t matter whether you’re an adult or a child. MILGRAM forces you to stare deep into yourself, and you can’t escape.

Kazui: I…. see. I don’t care about this place of yours, and it hasn’t even scratched my surface. I just want to be stronger than it. (?)

Kazui: Of course, I’ve killed, and now I have no reservations about breaking any other laws. It’s different… I wonder if I’m in trouble. Nothing has changed, but I don’t know how to feel. Don’t talk to me like you know what I’m feeling, kid.

Es: (offended noise)...

Es: Welcome, Mukuhara Kazui. I feel like we’ve met before… It's nice to meet you. I am Es, the prison guard of MILGRAM.

Kazui: (exhales, chuckles) Starting again, huh? Well, you won't regret it, that kind of relationship would be painful,

Es: That’s alright, isn’t it? Causing you pain is my job.

Kazui: Mm, you’re a pro.

Es: Surely, as just a regular human being, you can’t be totally prepared for this.

(Bell rings, machinery starts whirring)

Kazui: What’s this?

Es: It’s time for your cross-examination. You’ll face your regrets from now on.

Kazui: (sighs) Someone help… this is too much for me…

Es: That’s right, Kazui… show me your true feelings.

Kazui: Ahaha… Well, I’m embarrassed to concede to a child and say all that…

Es: Don’t worry. I’m going to know your soul from now on.

Kazui: Finding the truth of my inner feelings, huh? Alright.

Es: That’s right.

Kazui: Ah… oh, Prison guard-kun?

Es: What is it?

Kazui: This personality of mine… I’ve developed it from living in the world. Could you tell me about your own experiences? It’s a little annoying to have such a one-sided relationship, isn't it?

Es: I’m not interested in myself.

Kazui: That’s a lot of new information to add to the situation… I… I hide my own sins behind a delusion… I don’t know what you will see when it’s opened.

Es: Kazui…

Kazui: How’s that? Can you see how fickle adults are?

Es: Shut up. You’re the one who’s fickle.

Kazui: (laughs) Tough, isn't it? But is it the end?

Es: Prisoner #7, Kazui. Now, sing your sins.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s S2 R&S - Fireworks into the Heart

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (烟花入心) which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Features S2 Gavin. References are made to S2 Ch 16

[ Chapter One ]

“Wang Xiao Cui, you’ve been employed by the STF’s Logistics Department. Report to the cafeteria at 8am tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’ve been hired to work in the STF cafeteria. 

As a nutritionist with over thirty years of experience, joining the STF isn’t a problem for me.

My old companion isn’t able to understand why I’m not using my years of retirement to enjoy life. Without giving him a response, I simply smoothen the small creases on my STF uniform carefully.

As an ordinary person, the STF always had a mysterious and prestigious impression in my eyes. Agents who are able to work here are all heroes with indomitable spirits.

Being able to take care of their meals and enable them to get more nutrition every day to strengthen their bodies and better protect Loveland City gives me a sense of honour in protecting this city too.

Based on my experience, taking care of a group of young people is a piece of cake. However, I didn’t expect to make the mistake of underestimating this place.

-

Standing in front of the cafeteria’s bleak signboard at 7.30am, I witness several agents carrying Tianjin-style deep-friend dough sticks through the doors. Someone even carries several bags of fried beef buns. While walking, he speaks in a loud voice:

"I braved the risk of running laps to bring you guys fried buns again!”

“During training later, no one’s allowed to snatch that new gun from me.”

The other agents let out a “tsk”, taking the fried buns and chilli paste from him before dividing them amongst themselves.

Fresh out of the oven, hot steam rises from the buns in the cafeteria, and nobody bats an eye. The master who steamed the buns has already grown accustomed to this. They stand in groups of twos and threes, engaging in idle chatter.

Why doesn’t anyone in the STF like eating food from the cafeteria?

Unable to figure out an answer after much thought, I happen to spot a handsome lad dressed in a white uniform. His steps are steady, and he brings along a breeze when he walks. I immediately call out to him.

“Hey! Young lad, wait.”

The handsome lad stops in his footsteps, giving me a sweeping glance out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No no, I'm the new nutritionist in the cafeteria. I just wanted to ask you something. Why don’t the STF agents love to eat cafeteria food? From what I can see, the Nourishing Meal has meat and vegetables, and it’s pretty rich in nutrition.”

The handsome lad is silent for a moment before responding to my question.

“The healthy meals place too much focus on health, and they don’t taste any better than the small stalls outside.”

“Captain Gavin, the materials from yesterday’s case have been tidied up.”

“Mm, I’ll have a look at them.”

The handsome lad who was addressed as “Captain Gavin” sees that I have no further questions. Giving me a nod, he takes large strides towards the office.

With a frown, I take a bite out of a celery meat bun. Aside from the taste being slightly bland, I don’t find anything wrong with it. Furthermore, adding too much salt would reduce its nutritional value, so it’s a given that less salt would be added to it.

However, since this point was brought up, it means there’s room for improvement.

In order to prepare food that better suits the palate of STF, I spend a whole week lying low and observing the favourite eateries that the STF agents enjoy eating most, and try out all of their famous dishes.

Based on their palate, I meticulously prepare a modified version of trial dishes.

On the first day of introducing the trial dishes, I brim with enthusiasm while bringing out a “New Dishes to Try” signboard, thinking that this would raise the reputation of the STF’s cafeteria. However, even after half a day, the only things that enter are mosquitoes which I swat to death.

There’s a cold breeze at the entrance. I look at the clock hanging on the wall of the cafeteria - lunchtime is almost over.

Deciding not to wait any longer, I head outside, planning to grab a few people in to try the dishes.

The moment I step outside, my eyes brighten when I see that lad from before.

His footsteps are hurried, and he has a packet of instant noodles in his hand. He probably has to deal with some urgent matters, which is why he has to make do with that for lunch.

How is that good? An STF agent eating instant noodles? Where would I, a nutritionist, hide my pride? I hurriedly stop him.

“Young lad, there are new dishes in the cafeteria. Since you’re about to eat, why don’t you try the cafeteria? It’d be a quick meal.”

He pauses in his footsteps for a slight moment, his refusal ready. However, when he sees the menu behind me, he suddenly blinks, then looks up to give me a nod.

“I’ll have to trouble you then.”

With this, he walks into the cafeteria. I look at the menu. There’s only a simple line written on it - “Today’s Special: Chicken with Chilli”.

Does he like eating chicken with chilli?

[Note] To be precise, this dish is called 辣子鸡 (là zǐ jī). It’s a a stir-fried dish consisting of marinated then deep-fried pieces of chicken, dried Sichuan chilli peppers, spicy bean paste, Sichuan peppers, garlic, and ginger.

[ Chapter Two ]

The young man eats quickly and seriously. Ignoring the fact that that he’s eating at an unhealthy pace, I feel very relieved. When he walks over to return the tray, I ask him a question.

“You’re done, young lad? How’s the taste? Do you think there’s anything to improve on?”

The young man sets the tray down. After a moment of serious contemplation, he give his response.

“The taste isn’t bad. If you’re asking for suggestions, since it’s chicken with chilli, you could add a little more chilli.”

I record his suggestions in my notebook earnestly. At the same time, I’m secretly amazed at how members of the STF are truly talented individuals. I created this chicken with chilli dish based on the spice levels in Sichuan cuisine, but he still didn’t find it spicy enough.

Look like there’s much room for improvement in future dishes.

-

The next day, I continue with my plan to introduce trial dishes. However, most of the STF agents are already used to eating out. The ones who try the dishes are few and far between. Just as lunchtime is about to end, a familiar figure once again appears at the door of the cafeteria.

He’s the young man who ate the chicken with chilli yesterday.

He walks straight in, taking a tray and getting food. Although he doesn’t say anything, I feel very moved, and wonder if this kid dropped by specially to support the canteen’s business.

I inform him that red braised pork is being served today, accompanied with bitter gourd and scrambled eggs. He seems a little hesitant when he sees the bitter gourd. But in the end, he doesn’t say anything, finding a place to sit down and eat.

-

Over the next two weeks, it seems that as long as he isn’t out on missions or doing anything else, that young man would come to the cafeteria.

It appears that he’s a Captain or something. With his impetus, more and more people gradually eat in the cafeteria, and I have a better understanding of his reticent young man.

His name is Gavin, and he’s the Captain of the Special Ops Team. I heard that the Special Ops team is the hardest squad to get into within the STF. They are one of the very best in terms of resolved cases. Everyone in the team are the cream of the crop, much less the Captain.

I heard about how this Captain usually rushes to the most forefront when faced with any danger, which is why he receives much adoration from the team. Of course, the number of injuries and stack of silk banners in the storeroom are proportional to each other.

On the days when he isn’t around, there’s a high chance that he’s out on a mission, or having his injuries treated in the infirmary.

-

“Aunt Wang, give me the same chicken with chilli as Captain Gavin!”

A red-haired agent’s voice pulls me back to reality. He carries a tray, pointing at the chicken with chilli from across the glass. I give him a huge scoop of it. He carries the tray and sits at a row of tables close to the window. There are quite a number of people donning the same uniform, and Gavin is one of them.

“Captain Gavin, why have you fled from our braised beef noodles alliance? You’ve also stopped eating cup noodles with us when we work overtime.”

“Mm, this is something you’re unaware of. Our Captain Gavin has someone who cares for him.”

"Last time, that Miss Producer was filming something and gave us handmade biscuits. You were on leave so you didn’t know about this. Captain Gavin’s biscuits were several times more exquisite than ours. They were even heart-shaped.”

The agents wink at each other and chatter on incessantly. Gavin, the main topic of the conversation, continues eating calmly. When he finally feels slightly annoyed by the clamour, he puts down his chopsticks, glancing at the red-haired agent.

“Tang Chao, it seems that your stamina is getting better with your daily laps.”

“You’ll be my partner for the next mission.”

The red-haired agent immediately pulls a long face.

“Captain Gavin, it's not that I don’t want to be your partner. But based on my fighting skills, I’ll only be a burden to you.”

“I’ll continue shining as a support personnel, and be an emotionless lie detector for the Special Ops Team!”

Gavin ignores the red-haired officer whose name is Tang Chao. But when he lowers his head to drink the soup, I can see his slightly arched brows.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve always been seeing his composed and chilly side, and even thought that was his personality. It turns that he’s still a young man. It’s just that he hides that unrestrained aura that young people have, and doesn’t display it easily.

Perhaps that’s the fetter of being a Captain.

Looking at these young people, I suddenly feel as though I’ve found the reason why my trial dishes have not been successful.

It’s probably because I’ve never tried to truly understand this group of young people.

[ Chapter Three ]

I’m no longer stubborn when it comes to the dishes. Instead, I pay more attention to observing the dietary habits of this group of young people. Gradually, many more pages on the notebook which I use to record modified recipes are written on.

Everything goes smoothly. However, I notice that Gavin hasn’t visited the cafeteria for meals in a long while.

When the red-haired officer comes to collect his food, I scoop pork ribs and winter melon soup for him, and find myself asking him a question.

“Why hasn’t your Captain been coming down to eat in the cafeteria these days?”

He scratches his head, his tone less carefree as before.

“Captain Gavin’s injuries from this mission were a little more serious, so he’s still getting treated in the hospital.”

Before coming to the STF, the word “injuries” was associated with a sliced finger from cutting vegetables, or being scratched while playing with a cat. But after coming to the STF, I realised that there are many other ways people can get hurt.

The STF has doctors who understand Evolvers most in the whole of Loveland City. Logically speaking, even if it’s a fracture or external bleeding, patients can typically be discharged in a week.

That young man called Gavin hasn’t appeared in such a long time. Is he severely injured?

Even though we haven’t exchanged many words, I can’t help but worry about that young man.

He’s still so young. If anything were to happen to him, how worried would his family members be?

Perhaps due to the fact that he was the first agent willing to try food from the cafeteria, I find myself being more concerned about him, and wanting to know more about him. However, STF agents are disciplined and strict. When they’re eating in the cafeteria, they rarely mention Gavin. When he’s occasionally brought up, they say things that I’m unable to understand.

“She went to the hospital again today.”

“That’s fine. Her presence at the hospital is much more useful than a few of us going. At least Captain Gavin would smile a little when he sees her. When we’re there, we’re like stalks of grain, and can do nothing but watch helplessly.”

“The next time the ‘Snake’ bites, we can’t let Captain Gavin hold the fort again.”

In the fog of their conversation, I’m unable to understand anything. I’m getting old, and my ears aren’t as useful. I shake my head, turning around and heading back into the kitchen.

-

Just when I think Gavin’s injuries have rendered him unable to return to the team, he appears.

While I’m writing the lunch menu on the whiteboard, I spot Gavin and his squad mates walking in together. He has become much thinner, and looks very pale. Even so, his entire frame remains as solemn as always, a sense of sharpness emanating from him.

When I hand him braised beef noodles, he gives me a nod.

“Thanks.”

He picks up the chopsticks and eats the noodles. When he sees the slices of beef in the bowl, he’s slightly stunned. However, he returns to normal in an instant, continuing to eat as usual.

When they’re halfway through eating, the communication device at Gavin’s waist suddenly beeps. He presses the communication device, his expression changing when he hears the message.

“The ‘Snake’ has left the hole. Take action.”

With his command, everyone abandon their meal and hurriedly leave the cafeteria.

When Gavin passes by me, I can see traces of blood on the side of his sleeve.

It appears that he’s leaving for a mission before his wounds have completely healed.

The cafeteria lapses into silence. I tidy the table, looking at the beef noodles which only had a few bites taken out of it, and let out a heavy sigh.

I know how difficult it is to join the STF. People who join the STF are so incredible. But I still wish to know what kind of reasons would make such a young person charge forward and risk his life to the point where he can’t even have a proper meal.

[ Chapter Four ]

It’s very late at night, but the STF remains brightly lit.

Similar to the busy agents, I haven’t left either.

After this period of research and testing dishes, I discovered that the people here aren’t picky. They simply lack the time to sit down and eat slowly.

With this in mind, I restart the dish modifications.

The television in the cafeteria is currently showing the Loveland News. The host is reporting on something about “Evol Assassination Incidents”, and is criticising how the STF hasn’t been doing anything about them.

“Things here are turning upside down from how busy they are, and the infirmary is filled with people. And you claim that they aren’t doing anything? Reporters are so irresponsible these days.”

I shake my head, switching the television off. After calling a few colleagues over, we carry supper to the infirmary.

Due to the incident the news was reporting about, the STF has been in a mess recently. I heard that there aren’t enough beds in the infirmary for use.

My heart aches from how these kids are getting criticised even after getting injured. I’ve prepared sweet soup suitable for evening consumption, bringing them to the infirmary while they get treated.

While passing by the Captain’s office, I notice that the door isn’t closed, and I see someone standing inside.

It’s Gavin.

His side is facing the door, his hair is messy, and he’s leaning against the wall. One of his legs is lifted up, and he’s currently pursing his lips as he removes his combat gloves.

He appears to have lacked sleep for several days, and quiet fatigue emanates from his entire frame.

However, he doesn’t seem to have shown this side of him to anyone outside, demanding himself to only leave this version of himself to an empty office in the depths of night.

I knock on the door. The moment he hears this, he quickly straightens up, his sharp gaze sweeping over. When he sees that it’s me, his amber eyes are stunned, and he nods.

“Please come in.”

Walking in, I place a bowl of snow fungus soup on his table.

“Everyone has been working hard in the bureau lately. We decided to make some sweet soup for all of you to relieve the fatigue. Drink this soup while it’s hot. There’s Chinese wolf berry and longan in it, so it’s pretty nourishing.”

Gavin nods. Stray hairs stick messily against the sides of his eyes and brows. I’m guessing that since he’s a kid who usually puts up a strong front, he probably doesn’t like others seeing his sorry state. I hurriedly wave my hands to signal that I’m leaving.

Before I walk out of the door, Gavin suddenly asks me a question.

“Aunt Wang, is your cafeteria recipe modification going smoothly?”

I can hardly believe that he actually remembered such a trivial matter.

Just how many things does he concern himself with?

“Very smoothly. I’ve been looking into a new fast-food style beef noodles, and plan to introduce it to the bureau.”

“Fast-food beef noodles?”

“Mm. There used to be very few people in the cafeteria because I only paid attention to maintaining the nutritional value of dishes. But if people don’t even have the time to eat, how can I talk about nutrition?”

“Right now, I’m looking into preparing beef noodles that are both nutritious and can be eaten really quickly. Such noodles are more diverse in flavour, and the nutritional value is easy to maintain.”

After saying all of this, I follow up with a question.

“But I'm still considering whether to use bean sprouts or eggs as a substitute. Which do you prefer?”

Perhaps few people have asked him something as trivial as his dietary preferences. He gives this very serious thought before providing a careful answer.

“I’d prefer eggs.”

I nod, then find myself giving him my sincere and earnest wishes.

“No matter how busy work is, you need to have proper meals. Even though rice and vegetables seem simple, they are part of life.”

“Whenever you head forward so urgently, have you ever thought of whether you might be forcing yourself too much?”

When Gavin hears this, he’s taken back. I don’t continue. With a sigh, I turn around and leave.

[ Chapter Five ]

The new fast-food beef noodles introduced in the canteen received a huge welcome amongst the agents. It became the favourite supper of agents who worked overtime on cases. Given the positive responses, I also released different flavoured fast-food products. 

With this signature dish, the STF canteen finally became lively every day.

But the strange things is, I didn’t see Gavin for a very long time. I heard that he... temporarily relieved himself of his duties.

I have no idea what happened, but I trust that he had his reasons, and I silently hope that the kid can be safe.

Afterwards, a strange fog enveloped Loveland City. I was protected by STF agents, and later heard that Gavin was the one who retrieved the fog.

-

I’m just about to prepare dinner in the cafeteria when I hear the news that Gavin’s in the hospital. News related to the STF’s retrieval of the fog is being broadcasted, and Gavin’s powerful and resounding voice can be heard.

“This round of the Hunter Game is over.”

I lift my head to see that familiar figure on the television, determined and composed.

“Thank you all for protecting the dignity of this city.”

When he had meals in the cafeteria before, I often wondered how this taciturn young man could persevere on his own, shouldering high pressure that ordinary people find difficult, and also protect tens of thousands of ordinary people.

Right now, I understand.

It’s because he has a heart of justice that’s gentler and more unwavering than anyone else - 

And this heart has guided him onto a path destined to be rugged, where he will pursue justice with no second thoughts.

But I’m still a little puzzled. Doesn’t he find it lonely when walking down this path?

With the assistance of the red-haired agent, I carry chicken wonton soup to Gavin’s hospital ward.

The door is closed, and I can hear an indistinct voice of a girl drifting from the inside.

From across the glass, I see a girl sitting at the bedside, a pink bento box on the table.

The girl is resting a hand against her cheek while supervising Gavin as he eats the bento. Meanwhile, the young man sitting on the bed is eating it one mouthful at a time, earnestly and tenderly.

For some reason, I find myself grinning.

On this path filled with ups and downs, someone is willing to accompany him, wait for him, sit down together with him, and have a serious, proper meal with him.

I leave the hospital with the thermos box.

Being here for so many days, I’ve grown used to this place, grown used to the whistle at 6.30am in the morning, grown used to the agents finishing their meals within ten minutes and rushing off, and grown used to the lights in STF illuminating my path like starlight when I’m heading home at night.

My old companion often asks why an oldie like me continues going to the STF. 

It’s because I can see a broader world here. I can see souls with determined spirits. I’ve never felt more alive and fulfilled in my entire lifetime.

This is the meaning that STF gives me.

I hope that the young man called Gavin, as well as the countless young people who are like Gavin, will always lead a fulfilling life.

...and that they may always be safe.

May he, along with the girl he watches silently, return to life through every meal while embracing justice.

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Wilfords Demands: Separated

Summary- 5.6k Curtis x You. Curtis lost the tournament and has been cast back to his original home, the tail end. You are now contained in Wilfords precious engine to see the crazy ramblings of Snowpiercers Leader. You also must find out Curtis’s fate and you believe you can find him, if you can just get beyond that door Wilford likes to disappear into. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Stressful situations, spitting, hitting, demeaning talk, threats, language. You also find out what happened with Curtis’s other children, its dark and upsetting. Proceed reading with caution. Thats as descriptive as Im going to get in that warning. 

Chapter 6 / Wilfords Demands Masterlist 

As you were dragged away, you could hear the cheers echoing off the steel walls. You could feel the overwhelming sensation of panic settling in your chest. It was all consuming as you started struggling against the man dragging you behind Claude, trying to pummel your fists against his padded chest and scratch at him. 

“Let me go! CURTIS!” you screamed, resorting to trying to bite at his hand wrapped around your upper arm. Claude scoffed seeing you give the guard a hard time and snapped over quickly, open palmed, she slapped your face to stun you. 

You panic turned to white hot rage at the woman, turning on her but the man tightened his grip, stopping all your movements. 

“For once in your miserable fucking life, will you stop it?! Jesus Christ you are not worth the effort Wilford puts in you. You don't even make a good whore.” She spit in your face before turning back to open the door to Wilford’s chambers once more, jerking her head to direct the guard to bring you in. “He will be back soon, make sure she doesn’t do something stupid can you? Just don't hurt her, Wilford will have both our heads if anything happens to the precious prize.” 

She sneered out the last words at you, You spat at her with a smug smile when it landed on her face. She screamed in disgust and wiped at her face with her sleeve. “Tail Ender Pig, you are all so disgusting.” continuing to mutter as she left the room, the guard released you, standing at the door and his eyes followed you as you were sure to put distance between the two of you. 

Wilford’s area was the same as before. More luxurious than the others, you went towards the engine, the furthest you could get from the guard when he barked out. “That's far enough.” 

Flipping him the bird, you moved to sit in a nearby chair, rubbing at your belly protectively. 

Right now the anger was the only thing controlling your fear. You had no idea what was going to happen to Jace, was Curtis even still alive. You couldn’t think like that, because you would lose it if Curtis was dead. 

He promised you that he would find a way, swore to you. 

But promises made were not always kept. You swiped at your face furiously to hide the tears, thinking about Curtis would have to come later, when it actually could sink in. For now Curtis was still alive, he would come for Jace, that was all that mattered. 

Time seemed to stretch, tension building when you heard the door shift open. The guard stepped aside and Wilford walked in, followed by Grey who was bloody, limping and spotting several cuts and bruises. 

I hope you feel every single one Curtis gave you, you hissed in your mind looking at him before turning away. 

“Well look at you sweetheart, told you we would be getting to know each other better.” His hand came to stroke your cheek and you jerked away, making him laugh. “Soon enough you will learn not to pull away.” Grey said while Wilford handed him some towels to clean himself up. 

“As promised, she is your prize. You just have to wait till after the birth.” 

You shifted in your seat, your hand still protective over your stomach to face Wilford, ignoring Grey for now. “Where is Curtis?” 

“Well she isn't going to be much longer till she spits out that spawn for you. I don't mind waiting.” Grey spoke over you, ignoring your question. 

“Weeks Grey, not long at all.” Wilford flipped to a calendar, and to your disgust you saw where he had appointments set up with the doctor. Your name, some others, you shuddered at it. 

“Is Curtis still alive?” You started again, but both men ignored you once again when you finally gave a scream, willing them to at least acknowledge you. 

Wilford blinked at you calmly while Grey scowled at you. “Curtis really didn't teach you any manners did he? Know what we are doing first.” 

You hitched your chin, refusing to back away from him in fear. 

“Curtis is no longer your concern Y/N.” Wilford started. “You won't be seeing him again.” 

Your eyes welled up at these words and your face pinched trying to process these. You can't break down right now. Jace needs you to keep it together. 

“Fine, but this child is my concern. I need to know what his future is going to be.” 

Wilford broke in a grin at this one, rubbing his hands together. “Of course, you spent all this effort supplying me with Curtis’s child. I have high hopes for this one.” 

Fuck you were going to be sick, listening to him. “I want to raise him, he is mine as you said.” 

Grey cocked a brow, his arms folding over his chest with a laugh, Wilford joining him. “Ah- no. This child is mine. I already have a name. Trust me, that whole Jace Tyler was cute and all, I heard all about why you wanted that name but no. Joseph Wilford the second will become my successor. Hopefully. Curtis was always my favorite.” 

You spared a look at Grey who’s features clouded slightly but then went back to victorious. “Well Curtis is washed out, past his prime now.” He pointed out and Wilford shrugged a bit. 

“Happens to all of us. Why I needed Y/N to get pregnant rather quickly, before the tournament. I'm still taking a risk, but such a pretty thing who's a survivor from the tail end. I like Joseph’s chances. So for now Dear, your stuff is being removed from Curtis’s quarters, being moved into Grey’s. For now though you will be staying with me. Grey, how about you go get cleaned up, celebrate your victory.” 

Grey gave one final swipe of his towel, smirking. “I think I will just do that.” Cold eyes swept over you, possessive now. “I will see you real soon.” Sure to run his fingers over you again and grasp your chin tightly when you tried to pull away, his touch hurt, bit into you as he dug fingernails into your skin to mark you. “Keep up that act, I like breaking women in.” 

Letting you go with a cruel laugh, he left the engine. Wilford seemed oblivious to your distress. “Come Dear, let me show you your cot. You need to rest. Most certainly, can't have you stressing the baby.” He tugged you to a stand, leading you to a corner near the engine humming and pushed you to sit. “See this is pretty good.” 

You couldn't help it anymore, everything you had hoped for had shattered in moments. You curled as much as you could away from Wilford rubbing your back and sobbed into your arm, mourning Jace’s father. 

Curtis first noticed the pain. It riddled him hotly with every sway of the train's movements. His fingers curled against rough fabric underneath him. When he tried to move pain seared through him everywhere making him grit his teeth and sink back into the hardness beneath him. “Don’t try to move mister, Mama said you needed to stay still.” came a young boy's voice near his ear and Curtis strained his neck to look next to him, nothing but shadows and more darkness filling his vision but then movement caught his attention. 

A boy, young by the looks of him but it was hard to tell without proper lighting. Big eyes stared at him though as the boy crawled closer to him. “Where am I kid?” Curtis grunted out as the boy lifted a gelatin block to his mouth and took a bite. 

“This the back of the train Mister.” He shoved the block at Curtis, setting it on his chest. “I will go get my Mama. You can have some if you're hungry.” The boy smiled and crawled away, dropping away from sight and scurrying off. Curtis curiously picked up the block and sniffed at it, wrinkling his nose at the smell and set it off to the side. With a groan he tried to sit up again, but gasped again in pain. “Fuck!” 

“Fuck is right.” A woman came into view, carrying a lantern with her to light up her way and sat at the edge of the bed. The little boy crawled in on the other side and grabbed at the gelatin block to bite into again, squeezing it a bit in his small hands, humming happily at his food. 

“Mama, I thought you said that's a bad word.” 

“It is Timmy, but he's allowed to say it. Go on now, shoo. Let me talk to this man.” she waved her hands at him and yet again the little boy, giggling this time climbed upwards into what looked like more bedding above Curtis. 

She watched him with a soft smile till the boy was gone, then turned her attention back to Curtis. “That's my baby Timmy and my name is Tonya.” 

Curtis frowned a bit at the name, then it clicked. “I remember you…” he grunted and Tonya smiled with a nod. 

“I remember you to, but back then you were still a youngin’. Barely 17, still young and hot headed. If you are back here, I’m assuming you're still hot headed?” Tonya chuckled as Curtis tried once more to sit up, and she pushed against his chest to press him back down. “Whoever did this to you did a number on you. Mostly your ribs and possibly your shoulder. You are gonna have to just stay put for a while.” 

Curtis worked his shoulders and she was correct, the pain in his collarbone and down his back was enough to make him see sparks. “Yup, I have to agree. And not hot headed… There was a tournament and… Fuck.” This time he surged up to a sit with a yell, holding onto steel grating above him, gasping. “I have to get out of here right away. They took her and I promised to keep her safe, keep our son safe.” 

Tonya shook her head confused. “Who? What are you talking about? You should lay back down.” 

Curtis stubbornly swung his feet over the edge of the bunk and moved to sit on the edge, looking around. More and more of it was familiar. In the years he had been up front, none of it had changed. Except there was less crowding then before. 

“Y/N, she's up at the front and in serious trouble. Fuck.” He swore again and pushed to a stand, bracing his hand against the framework and tried to make sense of where the door was. Tonya was right next to him, following along. 

“Wait, Y/N? She's up there still alive?” 

“Yes.” Curtis weaved among other people and Tonya tried making him stop. “She was in my care, Wilford… “ He came to a stop at a steel door, looking it over to see any way to open it. “Wanted her to get pregnant with my child. Once he has what he wants, he is just gonna throw her to monsters.” he hissed while pressing his hands against the door. 

“You are not getting that door open Curtis.” Tonya wedged her way next to him and made him turn around, being as week as he was at the moment. “You are telling me shes pregnant? Our Y/N is pregnant?” Her eyes glowered at him and he squared his shoulders slightly. 

“Yes, due anytime now. I told you, she was brought to me for a reason. It wasnt what either of us wanted but…” He turned back to the door and up towards the ceiling, looking for cameras or anything to get someone's attention. “... It turned into something more. And I need to get to her now.” His gaze turned intense looking at Tonya. Her hands were at her hips accusing but then her gaze softened a bit and she sighed. 

“There is no way out Curtis, don't you think we have tried? Its a box, a prison. This is hell on earth and you are now stuck in it with us.” 

Curtis could feel his breath quickening and his heart racing. 

He had to get out of here, he had to get to you. 

Time seemed to turn meaningless while you stayed with Wilford. He had the doctor monitor you daily, check constantly for the moments you went into labor. But you shut down, not talking or acknowledging the others around you unless you were forced into it. Wilford though didn't seem to notice. He talked all the time. Rambled joyfully about everything to do with the engine. Tinkering away at little things in it, tightening screws and bolts. Running inspections. “Dear this whole train keeps us alive. And it needs so much care and love.” He would sing softly as his hands stroked along the metal wall. “Just a gentle touch for our sweetheart here.” 

You would curl up your legs onto your cot, or try to, it was hard with your belly. He was fucking crazy the way he spoke to the engine. The constant hum of the engine and the spinning didn't help either, it made your head pound till you felt like you were also going to go a bit mad in the room with him. 

The nights though were the worst. The engine would seem louder without Wilford’s constant chatter. You would stretch on your cot across the room from Wilford, who slept in a large plush bed. It was hard, almost impossible to get comfortable and relax. It wasn't because the cot actually bothered you, you spent years either in a hard bunk or leaning against a wall in the tail end. 

Instead you were used to sleeping with Curtis. His body would be pressed in against yours, his arm wrapped around you to hold you close and your head would be cushioned on his chest or shoulder, or a hand draped over his stomach. He was warm and safe. That is what you missed. Your hands would rub your belly, sniffling to yourself. You refused to let yourself cry in front of Wilford. But in the night when your only company was the hum of the engine, you let yourself talk to Jace about Curtis. 

How much you missed his father, letting yourself mourn for him because it was the times you thought maybe he actually didn't make it. Those thoughts you cursed yourself, because he couldn’t be gone. He hadn't even gotten to meet his son. The nights were the hardest, the only time you didn't have to pretend to not exist and it would become overwhelming. When it became too much you would sing softly to your belly. 

Don't take my sunshine away. 

The only thing unusual about the engine was the door. Just a door near the spinning blue lights that made the engine come to life that you studied. It was better than going into a trance watching the blue orbs circle slowly. Wilford would once in a while disappear into the room and wouldn't come back out. Just a few times you leaned just right in your cot when he disappeared into the room, catching sight of computer monitors. That had to be how Wilford was watching all of you. 

That made you shiver, the idea Wilford watched you and Curtis doing everyday things. You didn't even want to think of what else he spied on. But more importantly if you could get in there, maybe you could find Curtis. Or see if he was still alive. 

One morning Wilford was cooking what you guessed was supposed to be breakfast. The smell of onions, potatoes and eggs was making your stomach roll viciously. Curtis had always made sure no eggs made it into the room. Wilford wasn't quite as considerate. You were just coming out of the bathroom, having rinsed your mouth out when the smell hit you all over again. Luckily nothing was left to come up. 

“Sweetheart, just think when I have Jr, I will have him ready to take over the engine.” Wilford said cheerfully, sliding eggs onto a plate with a sickening splatter. Your stomach did another roll, and you did your best not to gag. It didn't click with his Jr. spiel, since you never thought of your son as anything other than Jace Tyler. Wilford slid a plate on a small table near your cot for you. “Go ahead eat, I want Jr big and strong like his sire. Make his Poppa proud.” He turned away and you ignored the eggs, recalling his earlier statement. 

“Take over the engine?” 

Wilford made a show of cracking another egg into a bowl, holding up the shell. “Did you know these would be extinct if it wasn't for me? Something so simple… “ He studied it before tossing it into a nearby garbage bucket. “No more chickens. Or oranges like you have in that glass next to you. Fresh squeezed by the way. No more bread.” He picked up two slices of thick sliced bread. “Nor butter, because cows would be extinct.” He dropped them into a pan to crisp and sizzle. “Everything Y/N would be extinct, if it wasn't for our Snowpiercer.” he flipped his eggs and slid them onto his plate. 

You remained quiet, refusing the eggs, the toast and the juice he had set on the table, watching him. 

“But I won't last forever. I can fix this train, but there is no way to replace my body parts. So next best thing. Make the perfect replacement.” He went to his table and sat down. “Why I searched you out for Curtis. Women in the front, been ruined in less then twenty years we have been on this train.” He said disgusted as he started to eat, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth and chewing. The yellow burst of yolk on his lip certainly made you gag this time, covering your mouth while trying to turn away. 

“No, I needed someone smart enough to survive but also untouched.” His grin turned cool as his eyes raked over you. “You survived the tail end, were strong enough to survive the lockbox as well as stunning, how you came out of there a virgin I don't know. But it worked out for me. Perfect for Curtis. All his other children before, just weren't perfect enough.” Another forkful of runny eggs and toast. You were struggling trying to wrap your mind around what Wilford was saying. 

“W-what happened to the others?” You asked shakily, scared of the answer. 

“Ahh, they didn't work out. We tried, sometimes the babies wouldn't shut up, other times they got to a certain age and would struggle with the motor skills. There were a few who got sickly.” Wilford shrugged as he sopped at his plate with his bread and popped that into his mouth. You though, your arms circled around yourself protectively as the horror of what he was saying made your heart race. 

“You just- got rid of them?” 

“Of course, I can't keep them if they can’t be useful. That's when it clicked. Curtis, he was fine. He's everything I wanted, big, strong, smart. Until you came along, he thought logically. It's a flaw, his falling for you, made him weak. But nothing I can't overlook I suppose. So many other perfect qualities in a leader. It was the woman.” He carried his plate to the sink and approached you. You shrunk back on your cot and he cupped your face in delicate warm hands, hands that never did hard work. “I needed a strong woman to match. All the front end bitches I paired with him threw off weaklings. You Sweetheart are going to give me the perfect prodigy. I considered switching Curtis for Grey for a while, but ahh he is too volatile to throw me a good son. No, it had to be Curtis and You.” He brushed your cheek gently and then grasped your hair to yank you forward towards the plate of food. “Now eat this gift I give you, because I need that baby to come out healthy.” 

Claude entered the room, clipboard in hand with a smile. “Sir if you're all set, we are ready for the inspection in the greenhouse.” 

“Oh yes Claude, be right there.” He beamed as he pointed at your tray of food with a snap of his fingers. “I want this gone.” Turning he made his way to Claude, the two of them chatting as they left the room, leaving you all alone. 

Your heart raced and breathing came out in a rush. With a swipe of your hand, you pushed the plate and glass off the table to shatter against the floor in a mess, screaming in a shrill burst. Overwhelmed with what he informed you, you couldn't hold it all back anymore, your scream just got shriller and tense to bounce all around you from the steel walls. Your voice ended up giving out with a croak and you dropped your heads into your hands sobbing at the fate of your son. 

You can't let this happen, just can't. This isn't what you or Curtis wanted for Jace. Your head lifted and eyes were wildly looking around the room, trying to figure something out. Attacking Wilford would do nothing. You could possibly hold him at knife point, but it would only be a matter of time before you were captured again, and it would just be worse for you and Jace if you had managed to kill Wilford. No, it needed to be more permanent. Something that would overthrow the whole train. 

Your eyes fell to the door, the door with all the monitors and control panels. You needed to be in that room and that's when a plan started to form. 

Although Curtis couldn’t find a way out of the tail end didn’t mean he wasn’t busy. Curtis started to get to know more about the tailenders, those who were ready to fight for there freedom, those with special skills that could be used in a revolt, listen to the stories of the horrors they have had to do to survive. It became more then simply getting back to you, now it was about getting these people out of here as well. 

Curtis started timing the guards coming through, trying to figure out how to work the inspections and feeding times to his advantage. After all this time, they should be fairly slack, rituals loose purpose after a while. 

But he didnt see his opening. No matter how many times he timed the lengths the doors were open, how long they stayed, how hard the cart full of the blocks were to manuever. It was all so precise, the same everytime and there eyes were watchful, always willing to bash a tailender should they step out of line. 

There was just four counts when all the doors were open and Curtis could see down the length of the train. It just wasnt enough time to get through several train cars. Tonya was perched next to him, listening to him count under his breath. 

“Curtis, don’t. We’ve tried that. It just ends with them culling us.” She hurriedly whispered back to him. Once they left he turned to her. 

“Then what Tonya? Y/N might have had Jace and tossed to Grey. Who even knows what will happen to my son.” Some frustrated tears caught in his lashes and some managed to escape, making a track down his now sooty dirty face. He dropped his head into his hands and Tonya rubbed at his back, trying to be supportive even though she delivered the harsh reality. 

“I know Curtis…I’m sorry, I just don’t want you going on a suicide mission. Y/N needs you, so does that little boy you got coming.” 

Curtis took a ragged sigh and stared back up at the camera beeping above the door, flipping it off before pushing to a stand and disappearing out of sight to continue trying to figure out a way to get back to you. 

You waited, you could be patient. You learned a while ago when you first joined Curtis to watch, it was also the harsh lesson he taught you in the beginning. It was how you got to know him as the man you cared for today. You were quick to learn that Wilford wasn't predictable. He would go into the room at random times. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for a few minutes. 

No matter how much you looked around the engine from your perch on your cot, you couldn't see where there were any cameras in the engine room. But you were still wary. Thinking maybe he was trying to catch you doing something, spring out of that room with a gotcha. 

But you were smarter. No, you were patient. Storing it all away. 

The worst was when Grey would come around. He seemed to turn into Wilford’s pet, always coming in to chat with him or ask favors. Oftentimes he would sit across the table, staring intently at you with a sneer. His eyes roaming you up and down like he had a right to take you whenever. These times you would hitch your chin up and stare back at him. Refusing to give him the satisfaction that he won. 

Maybe he did win your body. But you refused outright to give him any satisfaction in that. It didn't matter though, for Grey you were just a prize. You didn't matter to him except what you could give him. 

“She must be due soon, right?” Grey drawled out, moving to a stand and approaching you. In your bid to defy him, you didn't move an inch to draw away from him. His hand fisted in your hair, twisting viciously to have you look up at him. “Excited right? I'm sure it gets a bit boring just sitting here on your cot, waiting for time to pass with that little bastard inside of you.” 

You work your mouth to draw out some spit, hocking it at him as best you can at the unnatural angle. It earned you a loud smack, whipping your head to the side. Not a word dropped from you in pain as you glared up at him. Grey leaned in closer, his hand wiping at his face and wiping his hand clean in your hair he still had fisted in his other hand. 

“Nasty little thing arn’t you? Treat Curtis like this? Or did you just drool all over his cock every chance you get?” His fingers bit into your cheeks as he pressed harshly against the hinge of your jaw, wrenching your mouth open. “Don't worry, soon this will be all you know.” He spat in your open mouth, making you heave and try to pull away from him as he lewdly groped his crotch, laughing at your distress. 

“Grey, leave her alone… you will have her soon enough.” Wilford finally interjected, beckoning Grey forward towards the room. “I got something to show you anyways, step in here.” 

Grey snickered at you before sauntering over, passing through the door and Wilford followed him in, closing themselves in. You grabbed at some of the bedding, bringing a corner of a blanket to your mouth to try to tear at the fabric. You just needed a little bit. 

Your teeth ripped into the cloth and stitches, wrenching at the fabric till you could feel it weakening. 

Another pull, another twist and you could feel the fabric starting to give. Your eyes darted back to the door. “Come on…” You whined out and then there was a distinctive rrrriiippp… 

Balling the small bit of fabric in your fist, you got up to approach the door. Careful you pressed your ear to it, trying to listen over the engines humming, but it was pointless. The whoosh whoosh whoosh of the spinning mechanisms made you sigh in exasperation. You didn't want to ruin your chance by not being prepared.

Pressing against the wall, you tried to think about what you knew. The door was pressured close to guarantee a seal. Your eyes roving up to the mechanism that worked the door. It also made it close slow. You could wait a good five seconds after they left the room to do what you wanted. You could pretend you were passing by to go to the bathroom, seeing the door was just beyond your main target. Stepping back a few steps, you paused. Eyes on the handle, waiting for them to walk back out, swing the door wide open. 

It felt like hours till the handle jiggled and sure enough it swung wide open with both men leaving, laughing about some shared joke between one another. You started counting just like the way your Grandpa showed you when you were a kid playing hide and seek in the apple orchard.

One Mississippi

 You stepped forward as if you had been striding from your cot, which neither of you bothered to give a glance. The door clicked into reverse. 

Two Mississippi

Your chest clenched seeing the door start to close, the two men were a step away from you now where you could pass between them and the door. 

Three Mississippi

In passing, you rolled the ball of fabric in your palm, your hand brushing against the inside of the door jam and nimbly shoved the ball into the hole that would seal the door shut. Continuing on past. 

Four Mississippi

You paused at the bathroom door, your hand giving a shiver of anxiety while listening before opening the bathroom door. Please don't latch, please don't latch…. 

Five Mississippi

The door shut, but there was no distinctive click the door handle locked. You glanced over your shoulder to see it looked sealed. You yanked on the bathroom handle and escaped into the bathroom, covering your mouth as a gasp of relief escaped you, tears brimming your eyes at knowing it worked. Now it was just hoping Wilford left before he found out what you had done. Sinking to the floor, you took several breaths to try to calm your racing heart. Tilting your head back and closing your eyes, your hands pressed against your belly, whispering. “Jace, we are gonna find your daddy and figure it out from there. Right kiddo… we got this. We are going to be okay.” 

After giving yourself your pep talk and you weren't feeling like Wilford was going to figure it out and bust through that door, you made your way back out to see Claude had joined Wilford and Grey. 

“Well I need to go do my inspections.” Wilford motioned towards to exit, Grey took a glance at you shuffling back to your cot. Coldly he looked you up and down, obviously checking you out. 

“Will be seeing you soon Y/N.” You didn't respond, looking away as you lowered down onto your cot. He left and Wilford reached out for a clipboard Claude was holding, scanning over several papers. “What's the numbers on the tailenders?” 

“High hundreds. We took a count this morning. Its getting overcrowded once again.” 

“Ahh, I know it was getting bad once more. Gonna have to do something about that.” Wilford sighed. “Just need to get creative about it.” You did your best to keep from retaliating. “And how's our special guest there?” 

This made you perk, curious as to who he would be talking about. “Oh settling in nicely, like he never left.” Claude retorted as the door opened, and you couldn't stop the flutter of hope. Maybe it was Curtis.. Could be Curtis they were talking about. The door slammed shut and you started to count. 

Wilford could stay away anywhere from ten minutes to an hour. As anxiously as you wanted to run to the door and go in the room of cameras, you couldn't do it too soon. Wilford would just rush back in and stop you. All this effort, lost. 

So you waited. Counting like before till you were sure it had been a good ten minutes. Easing off the cot, you approached the door and rested your hand to the door handle. 

God let this work. You screwed your eyes shut and started to ease back, the door moving just as easily as if it was properly unlocked. Not even a turn of the handle. Slipping inside and pulling out the fabric from the hollow spot in the door, you let it shut you in. 

Camera, so many grainy moving pictures, it made your head thump with the intake of information. You started moving from screen to screen, searching faces to try to find Curtis. No matter how many you looked through, searching the garden cars, over to the kitchen crew, entertainment cars full of kronole high individuals, none of them had Curtis. You made your way down the line, cars with animals, people making equipment, prison cars. Still no Curtis. You bit at your lip, your fingertips pressing against screens, like you were crossing off people. 

“Come on Curtis, I need you to show yourself.” You passed to the last row, people all from the tail end. You leaned in close, mentally crossing off sections till you stopped at the door. It was a flash of familiarity that brought you back to that screen. 

“Jace… I found your daddy.” Your voice broke in relief, seeing him studying the door and camera, scowling up at it. You remember that look, the one that he was frustrated with his situation. You had never been so relieved to see him looking pissed off. “Thank fucking god you are still alive Curtis.” You fell back to sink in an office chair. “Now how do I get you out?” 

[agere-fandom-time]

Hi hi!! Can I gets a fic with toddler regressor! Midoriya izuku going nonverbal during an outing and lowkey regressing but he doesnt know what's happening and he just kind of rolls with it and the rest of 1-A's just like "whelp, looks like we've got a toddler on our hands??" Idk idk but yeah. Please n thankies

I loved this idea so much. Here is your fanfiction!! Mainly featuring Todoroki, Tokoyami, and Asui as the caregivers, with brief appearances from most of Class 1-A but I couldn’t fit everyone in. Also some Dadzawa, of course. 

Can be read below the 'read more’ or here on AO3.

Content Warnings: Sensory overload, non-verbal regression, briefly mentioned fear of Bakugou, involuntary regression in public. 

-Mod Stella

Izuku had always enjoyed shopping with his class.

Of course, now that they had moved into the dorms, there were new rules. A teacher had to come with them, and the students were required to stay in groups of three at all times. They had gone shopping in chaotic groups in their first year, but now leaving campus was an entire event, filled with paperwork and anticipation.

Today, Izuku sat in the middle of the bus between Ochako and Shouto, discussing their math homework. Around them, the rest of 1-A was humming with gossip and excitement as the city sped by outside the bus. Eventually, the conversation turned to specific questions, and all three pulled out their notebooks to compare their answers.

Kaminari wandered over to check on Ochako’s answers, earing him a smack on the head from Kirishima.

“Dude, come one, cheating is totally uncool!”

“I was just checking my answer,” Kaminari pouted, rubbing his head. “I wanted to know if I got question three right!”

“Bring your notebook over,” said Izuku. “The more the merrier!”

By the time they reached the mall, half of the class had their notebooks out and were arguing about the bonus question.

“Not to discourage you from schoolwork, but we could have stayed on campus if you wanted a study session,” Aizawa called from the front of the bus as the doors opened.

“We’re here!” Mina cried, shoving her notebook into her backpack and bolting for the door without zipping up her bag. Izuku could see her through the bus windows as the rest of the class followed her, bouncing impatiently in place as she waited for them. Izuku joined the line outside the bus, waiting for Aizawa to check the class numbers and announce the groups for today.

“Alright, pick your own trios today. Feel free to travel in groups of six, but don’t be a pain for the other people at the mall. Behave while you’re here.” Aizawa’s glare travelled across the class, and Izuku nodded furiously. He wasn’t going to cause any trouble this time!

Izuku was so busy nodding that he almost missed when people started mingling to form trios. He quickly located his nearest friend, which was Shouto, and walked towards him. It looked like he had already paired up with Tokoyami and they were just waiting for a third.

“Mind if I join you guys?” Izuku asked, hooking his thumbs into the straps of his backpack as he got closer.

“You are welcome,” Tokoyami said. Shouto simply nodded and shifted his body to include Izuku in their little circle.

“Cool, thanks!” Izuku took his place with them, watching the rest of the class divide themselves. Most of them were split by gender, having discovered that the boys and girls tended to shop in different places. Aoyama and Mina were the exception to the rule, an inseparable shopping duo. Hagakure had joined them today, and the three were already planning their route through the mall with loud enthusiasm.

“Do you guys need to visit any clothes stores? I’ve gone through, like, ten pairs of socks since our last trip, but I’m okay aside from that,” Izuku admitted. “I’d love to check out the new All Might figurines, I think the games store carries them here…” His trio started to plan their trip with far less fanfare than Aoyama’s.

“You have until five,” Aizawa called into the noise of the class. “Text me if there’s trouble, I’ll be in the food court keeping an eye out.”

“Yes sensei,” the class chorused. Finally free, they filed into the mall in an exuberant crowd.

Izuku, Shouto, and Tokoyami ended up in the bookstore first, trailing each other to their preferred sections (Izuku the manga, Shouto the poetry, and Tokoyami the historical fiction, which Izuku wouldn’t have guessed). All three of them found something to take home and they re-entered the main hallway of the mall with new bags hanging on their arms.

Excited as Izuku was to read his new magazine, the sound of the mall was starting to grate on him. The lights were slightly too bright, and the rustle of plastic bags clashed with the incessant noise of the crowd. People rushed past each other, occasionally brushing against Izuku, and he had to control his instinct to flinch whenever someone stepped on his foot or bumped into his shoulder.

Izuku trailed behind the others, focusing on Tokoyami’s sneakers so that he wouldn’t lose them. He tried to shut out the sounds of the mall, with limited success. There was just too much.

“Are you alright?”

Izuku was surprised to hear Shouto’s quiet voice from his left, and glanced up to see the other boy walking beside him, forehead creased with concern. Izuku smiled and went to say… something. But he couldn’t quite figure out what to say, or how to say it, so he settled for giving Shouto a thumbs-up. Shouto’s expression did something too complicated for Izuku to follow, and then he offered a subtle smile and an outstretched hand.

Izuku didn’t think twice before sliding his hand into Shouto’s, and everything was immediately better. Had the mall been too bright? It was very nice, almost sunny. It was still a little too loud, but he didn’t have to worry about that. He just had to follow Shouto wherever he went, hand-in-hand.

Knowing he wouldn’t lose his friends, Izuku was free to look around. And there was a lot to look at. Lots of strangers, and bright coloured clothing in the shop windows, and… ah!! All Might figurines!

Izuku dug his heels in, pulling Shouto to a stop. Shouto looked back with concern on his face, but Izuku smiled and pointed towards the shop with figurines in the window, and Shouto’s expression cleared.

“Tokoyami!” Shouto called into the crowd ahead of them. “Izuku wants to stop.”

It only took a moment for Tokoyami to join them, glancing briefly down at their joined hands. “I’m with you,” he nodded. “I will follow.”

Izuku tugged Shouto towards the games and collectibles store. There were so many things in here that Izuku loved! So many heroes and cool clothing and wow! Izuku bounced on his heels a little as he pulled Shouto into the store.

Once they were inside, Izuku let go of Shouto’s hand and dove in. There were plushies to feel, and figurines to inspect, and lots of games to check out! Distantly, he was aware of the others following close behind, murmuring to each other. But the merch was so much more important. Lots of All Might, of course, but there was a plushie of Thirteen that Izuku had to take a minute to cuddle. Ochako would probably like that: she was a big Thirteen fan, and had a fair number of plushies. And there was a Crimson Riot figurine that made Izuku think of Kaminari. He gave it a pat on the spiky head. Izuku didn’t hug Kaminari enough. He gave good hugs.

Finished with his inspection, Izuku turned back to his friends and reclaimed Shouto’s hand, leaning contentedly against his side. It made him happy just to be here, surrounded by all these things he could buy, and his friends as well. Tokoyami was on Izuku’s other side, and he bumped his beak lightly against Izuku’s head when Izuku came to join them. Izuku blinked at him. Was that how birds said hello?

Izuku tried to return the gesture, but he didn’t have a beak, so he just poked his nose into Tokoyami’s jawline. He heard Shouto stifle a laugh behind him, and he was pulled back to Shouto’s side.

“Be nice to Tokoyami,” Shouto said. Izuku tilted his head, confused. He was being nice! He was saying hello.

“Should we find another group?” Tokoyami suggested quietly. “Would you like to see Uraraka?” he asked Izuku.

Izuku nodded. Why wouldn’t he want to see Ochako? She was one of his best friends!

“Sounds good.” Shouto’s fingers wrapped a little more firmly around Izuku’s as they started to walk again. Izuku continued to stare around the mall. Everything seemed so fast and loud and big. Was this how the world always was? Something felt off, but Izuku couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

Suddenly, there was movement through the crowd: Kacchan shoving his way through a group of preteen girls with his usual murderous expression, Kaminari and Kirishima loudly apologizing as they followed in his wake.

Izuku did his best to hide behind Tokoyami and Shouto, pressing closer to Tokoyami in the process. A face emerged from Tokoyami’s shoulder, making Izuku jump, but it was just a small part of Dark Shadow stretching lazily from Tokoyami’s shirt, glancing at Izuku and then back towards Kacchan’s trio.

“Don’t worry, kid, we’ve got your back,” Dark Shadow muttered, and did the same beak thing that Tokoyami had done, pressing gently against Izuku’s forehead and then retreating back into Tokoyami’s shoulder.

Izuku stared at the place where the shadow had been, mouth slightly open.

“Still alright?” Shouto asked, pressing Izuku’s hand lightly. “Do you want to get some headphones from Aizawa or Iida?”

Izuku shook his head. Less sound was nice, but he liked being able to hear his friends’ voices. Shouto gave him a thumbs-up, and Izuku mirrored the gesture with a grin.

“There they are,” Izuku heard Tokoyami announce. “Dark Shadow, get their attention.”

“Alright, alright, jeez.” Dark Shadow jumped from Tokoyami’s back and stretched above the crowd, waving a clawed hand. That got a lot of the crowd’s attention, but soon Izuku could see who he’d been gesturing at: a group of four girls, Ochako at their head, was coming over towards them.

“Hey Tokoyami, hey Dark Shadow! What’s up?” Ochako asked.

“I believe we have completed our expedition. We wanted to check with other members of our class,” Tokoyami said. Izuku frowned. Were they really done? But he needed… socks? Or maybe food? He was supposed to buy something.

“Hey, Izuku,” Tsu said, coming to join them. “How’s the trip?”

Izuku was slowly getting used to the weird twisting sensation that kept happening when he tried to talk. He gave Tsu another smile and thumbs-up. She nodded, her tongue poking out from her mouth.

“Don’t feel like talking? I get that. Ribbit. Do you want to go back to the bus?”

Izuku was conflicted. It would be quieter on the bus, and maybe he could even lie down, but all his friends were here! He didn’t want to be alone.

Not knowing how to express the feeling, Izuku reached his free hand towards Tsu and wiggled his fingers. Seeming to understand, Tsu moved forwards and curled her hand in his, and Izuku squeezed both her and Shouto’s hands.

“We’d come with you, if you wanted,” Tsu said. “I’m pretty much finished, and the others will still be a group if we head out. We’d have to check in with Aizawa-sensei, ribbit, but he won’t mind.” Izuku liked the idea of talking to Aizawa. He took care of the class. Izuku felt safer with Aizawa, and when his friends were with Aizawa.

Izuku reluctantly nodded. There was more to see at the mall, and he was sad to miss it, but the idea of curling up on the bus and relaxing with his friends sounded a lot better.

“Well, let’s go then!” Tsu said, pointing towards the food court.

“Wait, wait, I want to give Izuku a hug!” Ochako yelled, and then there were arms wrapping around Izuku from behind, pulling him back into Ochako’s familiar embrace.

Izuku melted, arms dropping to his sides and his weight leaning back into Ochako. She made a surprised noise, tilting back under the pressure, and then Izuku was weightless and Ochako pulled him properly into her arms.

“Hey, Izuku,” she murmured. “I’m sorry you’re going, but I hope you have a good time with Tsu and Todoroki.”

“Mmm!” Izuku said, hoping that Ochako would understand that he meant that he would definitely have a good time, and it was a very nice hug, and thank you very much.

“Okay, I’ll let you go,” Ochako sighed, and pressed a kiss to the top of Izuku’s head, right on his hair. He squeaked and felt his cheeks flush from the unexpected affection. It had felt… a lot like Tokoyami’s beak, actually. But kind of softer. “Take care of him, you two!”

“You know we will, ribbit.”

His weight restored and his hands taken again by his friends, Izuku turned to smile over his shoulder at Ochako as he was led away, his face still warm from the kiss. She smiled and waved, before turning back to Jiro, Momo, and Tokoyami. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Ochako’s voice was high-pitched and excited as she joined the conversation. Hopefully they were having fun.

“Careful, Izuku,” Shouto said, tugging at his hand. “Watch where you’re going.”

Izuku turned his eyes back to the front just in time to let Tsu and Shoto navigate him around a support beam that had been coming a little too close for comfort. Then they were in the food court, the crowd less chaotic here but the conversations louder.

Aizawa was sitting alone, dressed in passably civilian clothes with his capture weapon draped around his neck, phone in one hand. He lifted his chin as soon as Izuku and his friends stepped into view, acknowledging them as they headed towards him.

“Hey sensei,” Tsu said, when they got close enough. “Izuku’s a little overwhelmed and we were thinking about heading back to the bus for a while.”

“Did something happen?” Aizawa asked, directing the question towards both Izuku and Tsu as his eyes flickered between the three of them.

“Not as far as I know,” Shouto answered. “I think it was just the mall.” His thumb swiped across the back of Izuku’s hand. “Do you know?”

Izuku shook his head, then gently pulled his hands free.

Loud, he signed to Aizawa, whose eyes followed the gesture. Bright. Tired.

“Do you want a set of headphones?” Aizawa offered, making a shift towards the bag he’d brought along.

Izuku shook his head. Friends, he signed. Thank you.

“Suit yourself. How about a fidget toy?”

That sounded tempting, and Izuku’s face must have shown it, because Aizawa was rummaging in his bag and tossing things onto the table shortly thereafter. A Rubix cube, a length of string for cat’s cradle, squares of paper for folding, and a miscellany of little fidget gadgets. Izuku chose a set of interlocking rings that made a nice sound when he rattled them, and were fun to twist around each other. He gave Aizawa a smile and a bow, and then put the rings in his mouth. They were cool and metallic, and interesting to bite, but not very nice on Izuku’s teeth.

“Hmm.” Aizawa said, looking unimpressed. “I’ll have to clean those. And get you a proper chew if you’re going to be putting things in your mouth. Maybe a necklace so you can keep track of it.” He packed the rest of the fidget toys away, but not before tossing Tsu her favourite fidget cube and a set of keys. “Lock the bus doors behind you. If those keys go anywhere near the ignition, you’ll be expelled.”

“Yes, sensei,” Tsu agreed, tucking the cube and the keys into her pocket. “We’ll be careful.”

“You’d better be,” Aizawa said. “And take care of Problem Child.” Izuku perked up at the nickname. That was him! Aizawa was talking about him!

“Why is everyone saying that today?” Shouto said. “Of course we will.” He rested a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, which was almost as nice as holding his hand. Izuku leaned into the touch, eyes closing for a moment. He felt very tired all of a sudden.

“Come on, Izuku,” Tsu said, and then his hands were taken again and he was led away, out of the mall. Izuku’s eyes were more closed than open now, and the mall passed in brief flashes of colour and crowd. With a friend on each side, deflecting the traffic, no one bumped into him. Soon enough, they were in the fresh spring air, and Izuku blinked his eyes open to stare up at the clear blue sky, breathing in the taste of petals and dirt.

His friends were by his side, the smell of spring was in the air, and Izuku felt better than ever. The world was very big, but it didn’t matter because his friends were there. They would take care of him. He was safe.

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 20.

Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3000+

A/N: Ok this is the last full chapter I have written. I’ve begun on 21, but it’s only about halfway done. I’m hoping to have it done by the Saturday, but no promises... Please be patient with me as I have a rather busy schedule and want to give you the best chapters! I hope you all enjoy this one:)

Chapter Twenty:  

Another two weeks had passed, and today was move in day for Y/N into her new apartment. 

She had got a small little flat in Midtown Manhattan, so she was right in between her mom and Steve and Bucky’s house. Having not really time to get furniture and not really having the money for it just yet, she went ahead and got a furnished apartment, so moving in was easy with only bringing in her bedding, boxes of clothes, and decorations. 

The flat that she got was an open concept studio. The only walled rooms were the bathroom and a single closet at the entryway. Everything else was out in the open with no dividers. 

They had given her a bed, couch, dresser, coffee table, and the dining table was an island in the middle of the kitchen looking out to the living room. She went thrifting during some free time finding a bookshelf and end table for her bed to add to the space. 

Bucky and Steve had taken the weekend off to help her move in the heavy loaded things. Becca was coming later to help with some decorating to liven up the space. 

“Where’s this one going?” Steve asked maneuvering through the doorway. 

“They’re literally labeled, big guy,” Y/N shouted from the bathroom where she was organizing her toiletries. 

“Not this one, Miss. Sass,” Steve countered. 

“Just throw it by a wall somewhere then. I’ll get to it later,” she shouted back. 

Bucky came in shortly after with two smaller boxes topped on each other. 

“Ok, I think that’s it. At least in my car,” he noted, dropping them down in the kitchen.

“All clear in my truck,” Steve added with a huff as he brushed his hands off. 

Y/N came out from the bathroom with her hands on her hips and let out a loud breath. 

“Great. All that’s left is decorating and at least making my bed so I have a place to collapse once exhaustion hits me,” she smiled. “And according to the time,” she looked down at her watch, “that will be about 20 minutes.”

Bucky chuckled before moving over and wrapping an arm around her shoulder and squeezing her body into his side. Which she gladly used him as a wall to cave into. 

“Yeah, 4 hours of moving things from mom’s to here was my workout for the day,” Steve laughed. “Now, I was promised dinner and a drink for my payment of heavy lifting, if I remember correctly.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother who batted his long eyelashes at her waiting for her answer. 

“Fine, I’ll call in for pizza. Anyone know a good spot around here?” she asked breaking away from Bucky for just a quick second to grab her phone before rushing back to hold onto him once again. The quick movement made Bucky laugh at how needy she was being for his touch. 

He wasn’t complaining though. Now that Steve knew about them, the simple touches (they were being nice and not being as touchy as they’d like for Steve’s comfort. He was still getting used to it) meant all the world now they can embrace it instead of hide it. 

“There’s Angelo’s and Joe’s. Both mouth watering New York Pies,” Bucky answered, as he wrapped his other arm around her holding her into his side more. She snuggled into his chest as she typed away on her phone for the menus.

“Any preference, Stevie?” she asked. 

“I’m feeling Joe’s. While you order that, I’ll go to the corner store for some beers. Want anything specific?” he asked standing up rolling back his shoulders in a stretch before grabbing his keys. 

“You know the answer to that,” she said, sending a raised eyebrow from behind Bucky’s arm. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get the Rose,” he waved off moving to the door. “Buck? Anything special.”

“I’m good with whatever.”

“ ‘kay. Be back in a minute.”

Steve walked out the door and instantly Y/N fell back onto her bed with a bounce. 

“You’re really that tired?” Bucky laughed looking at her stilled self. 

“I’ve been packing way before you guys got there to put everything in your cars,” she answered with her eyes closed. 

“Did you sleep last night?” When he didn’t get a response and she just moved her arm over her eyes, he knew the answer. “You waited until the last minute to pack everything up, didn’t you?”

“Not everything… Just my entire bedroom…” she said, peeking an eye out with a small smile. 

Bucky chuckled before falling down next to her. Both of them looked up to stare up at the high exposed ceilings. 

“I did my bathroom the day before,” she noted. 

“What else do you have left to do to make this feel like your home?” he asked, turning his head to her. 

“Eh, I’ll go thrifting with Becca tomorrow probably and find decorations here and there. But considering this place is maybe just two of my bedrooms at mom’s house, I won’t need much,” she shrugged looking at him. “Definitely need to get a plant or two… Or five.”

Bucky shook his head with a grin before moving to envelope her again and pull her into his chest. 

“I feel like everytime I’m going to come over, you’re going to have a new plant.”

“Well…”

“Am I wrong?” 

“No.” 

“You’re a dork,” he laughed, kissing the crown of her head.

“Hey! Plants purify your air and bring joy to my heart. It’s scientifically proven,” she pouted, pulling away enough to see his face. 

“I didn’t know you were part of a science experiment,” he played on. “Would make sense for a lot of things…”

“You little-,” she shoved him away before jumping off the bed and moving to the kitchen. 

“Hey, I’m kidding. I’m kidding,” he laughed slowly chasing after her. “To an extent.”

“Don’t talk to me,” she huffed, going back to her phone to order the pizza. The little pout of her bottom lip just made her all the more cute instead of intimidating though. 

He rolled his eyes as he moved to stand behind her trapping her in her position by the island. His arms holding the counter top on both sides of her body.

“That won’t last long…” he whispered in her ear in just the right voice to make her shiver. 

But she didn’t give in, no matter how bad she wanted to. Two can play this little game. She hit the call button and turned around looking at him. 

Just as she opened her mouth to talk, making it a show and making him think she was about to say something to him, she brought her phone to her ear and answered.

“Hi, I was wanting to place a delivery order,” she said fluttering her eyelashes at Bucky before ducking under his arms and walking away. “Yes, I’m going to do a large pepperoni and a large margarita pizza.” She continued as she aimlessly walked around the flat. 

Bucky shook his head watching her. Before he had the chance to do anything further… Becca came in with a loud huff. 

“Good God. Y/N, you have a hot neighbor!” she shouted and the two turned to her. Bucky with furrowed eyebrows and Y/N with a look showing she was on the phone. “Oop, sorry,” she shrugged with a whisper as she walked to Bucky with a brown paper bag. 

“Hot neighbor?” Bucky asked. 

“Yeah, right next door. I might have to hop on that…” she winked as she started emptying the bag. Random little snacks and bags of candies, probably for their girls night they planned for later that evening. 

“I thought you were dating someone,” Bucky questioned as he grabbed a bag of swedish fish. Becca quickly smacked his hand and sent a warning look. 

“Keep up, Bucky. We stopped dating like a month ago,” she shook her head. 

“Wait, what was his name again? Scotty? Sco-”

“Scott. And yes. We had almost completely different schedules, so it just wasn’t working. Eh, I’m not worried about it. He was a good lay, but I’ll live,” she tilted her head grabbing a bottle of wine and moving to put it up in the fridge. 

“Oh, God. Please don’t tell me about guys you’re sleeping with. I don’t want to hear that,” Bucky squirmed. 

“You’re a child,” she shook her head before turning to Y/N who was walking to the opposite side of the island. “Who was on the phone?”

“Joe. I was ordering some pizza,” she answered. “Sweet guy actually. But what were you talking about when you came in?”

“Oh!” she shouted excited. “You have a hot neighbor!”

“Is that so?” she raised her eyebrows before moving to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. 

“Does that spark an interest in you Y/N/N?” Bucky asked, turning and looking at her with surprise. 

“I’m not talking to you, remember?” she pointed. 

“You just did,” he tilted his head with a sassy smirk. 

Instead of answering, she stuck out her tongue and turned back to Becca. “Elaborate.”

“310D, right to the left of you,” Becca noted. “Longer blonde hair and those damn arms that look like if you wrapped a ribbon around them, it would take a single flex to pop it.”

“Catch a name?” she asked with a laugh. 

“You do realize we’re dating right?” Bucky asked, crossing his arms. 

“No, I didn’t catch it. I was just looking at him before he went into his apartment. I don’t think he even saw me,” Beck continued ignoring her brother. 

“Interesting. You’ll have to figure it out,” she added, taking a swig of water. “Wouldn’t hurt to know the neighbors name.”

“Um, hello…”

“Oh, say less. Don’t have to tell me twice to interact with a perfect specimen of a man,” Becca laughed.

“I feel like I’m invisible,” Bucky mumbled, watching the two start to giggle about whatever telepathic thing they were talking about. 

_________

Steve came back soon after with the drinks, and not even 10 minutes after him, the pizza was delivered. 

They all sat around eating and talking with the limited furniture after Bucky set up the TV, along with Steve yelling at him that it was HDMI 4 not 2. That was a whole fight in itself. 

Steve eventually left around six and Bucky was leaving soon after so the girls could have their first girl night in Y/N’s new apartment. 

That was until Bekah let out a long groan. 

“What?” Y/N asked leaning over for an M&M on the coffee table. 

“One of my classmates just texted me asking about something for an essay I completely forgot I had due. My professor has it due at 8am tomorrow like the crazy person she is,” she sighed, looking at her phone before looking at the couple on the couch she was facing on the floor. “What kind of insane person doesn’t do the midnight deadline? This professor is going to be the death of me.”

“How much of it do you have done?” Bucky asked. 

“That’s the thing,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. “I completely forgot about it until this text…”

“You haven’t started?” Y/N chuckled, but you could tell she was worried for her friend. 

“No…” Becca replied. “I may or may not have been putting it off and happened to forget it entirely.”

“Let me guess, it’s practically 30% of your grade for the semester?” Y/N said with a raised eyebrow. 

“You know me so well…” she replied with a pathetic smile. “I’m going to have to bail on girls night tonight. Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Beck,” Y/N shook her head. “I get it. I just recently got out of that world, so I know how it goes.”

Bucky watched as the two interacted and laughed at his sister like the annoying big brother he was. 

“Go before you fail the class. We can always reschedule,” Y/N waved off. 

“You sure?”

“Positive. Now go. Every second counts,” she said, standing with Becca as they moved to the door. “Stop by the coffee shop on the way out. Espresso is your friend tonight.”

“Yes ma’am,” Becca saluted as she grabbed her things and stepped out of the apartment. “Oh, and next time I come, I’ll make sure to get hot neighbors name,” she added with a wink. 

“That’s your next homework assignment.”

“Oh, that’s one I won’t be putting off.”

After a head shake to her friend, Becca rushed out of the building off to her own place. Y/N shut and locked the door behind her and walked back into the kitchen. 

“Does that mean we get to have a girls night?” Bucky asked with a smirk. 

“Ha Ha, very funny,” she laughed before falling onto the couch and laying her head in his lap looking straight up at him. “But yeah. I’d like some company first night here. It’s a big emptyish kind of space.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, doll,” he smiled as he started stroking her hair gently. 

“Oh, hey! I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” she noted, readjusting in her spot to see him better. 

“Should I be worried?” he asked is a teasing manner. 

“No,” she chuckled before grabbing his hand and starting her pattern tracing that he learned she loved to do. It was calming is what she had told him. “It’s about Steve.”

“What about Steve?” Bucky asked as he watched her finger tip glide across his palm in a gentle manner, sending shivers up his arm. She was able to do that everytime. 

“Well, you know my host family I talked about?” He hummed as his answer. “So Peggy was the daughter of the people I was staying with. She was about 4 years older than me and kinda turned into my mentor. Badass woman if I might add.”

“I remember you talking about her. From the stories you had, she seems like she can definitely hold her own,” he laughed. “What does she have to do with Steve?”

“I’m getting there, slowly…” she said, adding a dramatic tone to the conversation. Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as he went back to playing with her hair. “Peggy and I talked about her coming here and staying a while. A week or so. Maybe later. However, that was when we were living together and just mapping out times to meet up again. Now, she’s got a job opportunity here and was wanting to come and stay for a little to scope out if she wants it and is willing to make the move to New York possibly.”

“Sounds like a fun plan,” he nodded. “But I’m still waiting on the Steve part.”

“Patience, B. Patience,” she said squeezing his hand slightly. “It has to do with Steve because I think Peggy would be a great match for him.”

“You want to set up your brother?”

“Yes. And if there is anyone in the world that I can think of that can handle his hard head as well as challenge it, it’s Margaret Elizabeth Carter.”

“You know your brother hates when we set him up on dates,” Bucky made note of. “She better be something else if you think it’s going to work out.”

“Oh, Peggy is the definition of something else,” Y/N smirked still concentrated on the lines on his hand.

“Ok, so when is she coming to town?”

“Not sure yet. She’s still waiting to hear back from the agency that she was talking with on a good date for them both. I mean she can always come visit before that, but travel isn’t cheap, so it would be smarter for her to just come when she also has business to attend to.”

“Valid point.”

“So you think it’s a good idea? You wanna join my team to play matchmaker with Stevie?” she asked with that damn grin that got him every time. He just can’t seem to say no to it.

“As much as your brother hates these kinds of things, you seem pretty set on it. So I’m trusting you know what you’re doing,” he smiled, brushing a thumb on her cheek. 

“When do I not know what I’m doing?” she retorted gleefully. 

“Well, there was that one time at Coney Island that you,-” he started, just in an effort to push her buttons. 

“It was a rhetorical question that should not be answered. That is if you want to stay the night,” she said with an attempt of a threatening face. 

“It’s cute you think you have an intimidating stare,” he replied, now pinching her cheek where his thumb was. 

“I can be intimidating,” she sat up with a pout. 

“Sure you can, Y/N/N,” he nodded with a smug grin. “That face exudes intimidation.”

When she actually set in her deathly stare that Bucky had seen when she was upset, he took a step back from his teasing. 

“Ok, I’m kidding now. I know you can do it,” he said with a daunted face. The glower on her own features immediately dropped at getting the reaction from him she wanted and went back to her cute sweet innocent smile. “It’s kinda scary how easily you can flip that switch…”

“It’s a talent. What can I say?” she shrugged with a wink as she stood up and went to make popcorn. “So what movie are we watching tonight?”

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