#I am so prepare to spend a stupid amount of money on this

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Prologue

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen

WC: 13k

Chapter Warnings: angst, miscommunication, ghosting? maybe, some cursing, mentions of OC having nephews (gross), being broken up with over a text, allusions to anxiety, my oc being argumentative and avoidant (she's me), and nico also being avoidant and a poor communicator (he's a man) (he's also a capricorn) (sorry capricorns)

Summary: Poppy Jensen’s job with the New Jersey Devils was supposed to be her first big step into adulthood - a way to prove to herself and her overbearing parents that she could make her own way in life. She was never supposed to become involved with any of the players. Becoming best friends with their captain was stupid. Getting her heart broken by him was tragic. Getting knocked up with his child was just plain messy.

Series Masterlist

A/N: is a 13k prologue excessive? probably. is the mixture of tenses in this part going to grind your gears? most definitely. am I going to do anything about it? no.

I've never actually published any writing before so go easy on the girl. if I need to tag any warnings just let me know. if you like the fic let me know. if you don't like the fic I beg you I'm having a bad month spare meeeeee.

TW for british english spellings because shock horror I am unfortunately british, get used to u's and s's where you least expect them, I will change my spell check settings for no one!! nico's facebook aunt shenanigans have lit a fire within me today and I was writing a later chapter for this fic and thinking if I don't actually put this out into the world I never will so here we are hi my name is maggie I hope you enjoy

Poppy

New Years has always been Poppy Jensen’s favourite holiday. The dwindling aftermath of Christmas - lights and decorations still hung throughout the city, everyone decked in the hats, scarves and ugly sweaters gifted by distant relatives over the Christmas period, and the six days of limbo usually spent drinking and eating copious amounts of leftovers before the new year, new me resolutions kick in - and experiencing it all in her hometown surrounded by the people she loves the most, there is no other time like it.

This year, she feels like the festive period has been one, long, strung-out horror show. 

Self-inflicted, of course, like all the other tragedies of her life, she does know she only has herself to blame for how pathetic it has turned out.

She had prepared herself for Christmas to be a dud. The one time of the year that she and her family put aside their differences, and this year she had opted out - or, so her mother had dramatically concluded; she actually just had work commitments. But, this would be her first spent alone due to the fact her parents had decided to go and visit her older brother, Oliver, and his family in San Francisco.

They didn’t have to fly across the country - Oliver has more than enough money to book his clan on a flight back to his home state, but obviously as the golden child, the Jensen’s must bend to his every whim. Of course, Poppy had been invited. Her relationship with her brother wasn’t mutually acrimonious, but the aforementioned work commitments got her out of that bore-fest. 

She does love her brother. Sometimes. Christmas, especially - he’s a great and expensive gift-giver. And she loves his wife, Kimberley, and their two sons - her nephews, James and Lucas - but spending the holidays with them would have been a lot. Her family is hard work on the best of days, and the only reason Christmas is ever bearable is because her mother hires help, and it’s impossible for the stress train to leave the station if Priscilla Jensen is given enough wine early enough in the day to dull her usual wicked demeanour. 

Kimberley, God bless her soul, maintains a sober house, and Poppy, as much as she respects this, would not go anywhere near that train wreck if you paid her a million dollars.

There’s also the fact that the holidays were invented to unwind, and Poppy somehow always gets lumped on nephew duty. She had long grown out of her boys are gross phase, but lord, do those two try everything in their power to bring it back. She has lost count of the amount of their bodily fluids she has had wiped all over her best clothes over the years. If she had agreed to fly out, she no doubt would have ended up being the one to watch the kids while everyone else had their version of a good time, and so she’d successfully managed to avoid all that with a half-assed promise of visiting at Easter, instead.

Her brother hadn’t been too upset - one less place setting at the table for him to worry about - but her mother had been livid, and there was no chance Poppy would live it down without owing her.

God forbid she, as an adult, actually got to choose how to spend her time.

She hadn’t actually been completely alone on Christmas, not all day, at least. Her best friend Nia had invited her to eat with her and her dad, but they were hardly putting her in the festive spirit with their constant snipes at each other, and so she’d given herself stomach ache stuffing herself full of corn bread and roasted carrots and dipped out to make it home for the Giants game - because there’s no better tradition than watching your team lose on Christmas Day. At least she wasn’t there to watch her dad and brother yell at the TV and get all grumpy for hours after the fact. 

She’d watched Love Actually with mulled wine in hand and fallen asleep on the couch - waking up in the middle of the night to the muffled sound of her neighbours screaming at each other through the walls. 

Poppy had the 26th off, and spent the day preparing her apartment for New Years, knowing she wouldn’t have any other opportunity to get her big clean done. She’d cleared out half her wardrobe - done several loads of laundry so that she could donate clean clothes to the women’s shelter a few blocks over - rid her kitchen of all the outdated tinned foods in the backs of her cupboards, dusted every surface, vacuumed every floor, colour-coded her bookshelf to look more aesthetically pleasing and then within an hour put it back in alphabetical order - all in a day’s work. 

By the time the 27th rolled around, and she had to return to work, she had tired herself out completely. She had been drained, and the worst part of it all, she didn’t even actually need to be there.

Sure, December was a crazy time to work in the NHL, their schedule unrelenting when the season got into full-swing, and the holiday events that Poppy’s team had to organise seemed never ending, but she had technically been given limbo-week off. Not that her mother had to know.

The Youth Foundation team had all wrapped up work for the year on the 23rd, and if Poppy was a truly good daughter/sibling/aunt, she would have booked herself on a red-eye after the home win that evening, but the second the opportunity to accept an actual real excuse not to change her plans arose, she took it with open arms. Her guilt of lying to her family diminished, along with her will to live at the fact she had - self-inflicted, as always - put herself down to work her favourite time of the year.

Her career with the New Jersey Devils had started with an internship in her final year of college. She had worked with the digital content department for her first year, quickly being sniped by the Foundation in the middle of her second year and working her way past content creation to helping co-ordinate and run some of the community events.

When her friend Jessica had approached Poppy and begged for her to cover her spot in the department they had started out together in for limbo-week, spending it with the team at their games, she had jumped at the bit. She knew no one else would agree to work last minute after having their time off approved, and was pleased to relay to her mom that she had to prove herself as a team player if she wanted more responsibility at work. It was all in the name of bumping up her performance and getting her name out there, and definitely not avoiding her family and that whole shit-show.

Poppy loves her job, and is more than happy with her career, but she could sing about it until the cows come home and her parents could not care less. They rarely ever acknowledged her successes because her life didn’t fit the mould they had set out for her - another reason she hadn’t wanted to spend this Christmas hounded with questions of why don’t you come work for your dad? Or why didn’t you accept the interview Ollie so kindly got for you? She doesn’t want a non-sensical, nothing job made up to keep her under her family’s influence. She has forged her own path, one that many dream of in one of the biggest industries in the country, and no matter how much she disappointed her parents in comparison to her lackey brother, she is content with where she is.

She had completely forgotten, however, that the devils played away on the 29th and 30th, and if she was going to be tagging along with the bare-bones limbo week media crew, there was no way in hell she was getting out of joining the team’s New Years celebrations. 

She had done her fair share of dodging team events already this year, and despite the fact she could appease most of her friends within the organisation, there was one person who would not let her off so easy.

This year is Jack Hughes’ first year hosting the big Devils New Years party - he’d, in her opinion, stupidly volunteered pretty much last minute after the venue the team had booked flooded in November and cancelled their reservation - and he would not let Poppy get out of coming, even if that meant scuppering her own annual tradition of getting shit-faced with her girls in their perfectly planned New Jersey bar crawl.

She’d done her best work to convince him - had almost sold him on the dream - she and her best friend, Nia, always start at the bar below Nia’s apartment in Hoboken, and then dot to the bars closest to their other friends apartments until they end up by Poppy’s, which has the perfect little rooftop set up where they get to watch all the fireworks across the Hudson. It’s how she’s spent the holiday every year since she and all her girls turned 21, and it was her favourite day, her favourite way to ring in a new year with her best friends in her favourite place in the world. 

Jack’s argument was that he also had a great view across the Hudson from his Jersey City apartment, and that she was less likely to catch hypothermia this year because his view came through floor to ceiling windows and the luxury of central heating.

She’d tried to argue that she had all intentions of meeting her future husband on her adventures through New Jersey, and he gave the quick rebuttal that he had plenty of single friends she was yet to meet. 

There was no excuse she could give that he couldn’t counteract, and so she’d eventually given up with the resolution that when he is 3 drinks deep, Jack Hughes can barely remember his own name, let alone keep tabs on where Poppy is, or if she ever showed up in the first place. She can always just say she’s running late until he stops asking.

And then she’d somehow gotten roped into helping him set up. 

Jack had cornered her on their flight home from Boston, where they had just lost to the Bruins and, all of a sudden, no one was in any kind of mood to party.

“I swear,” he had said, throwing himself down into the vacant seat beside her as she attempted to clear her inbox on the short journey, swiping away messages and storing others to review when work started back up in the next week, “If I mess up this party, and my name goes down in Devils history tied to the biggest depression session this team have ever seen, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“How the hell would that be my fault?” She had scoffed, kicking at his feet when he had tried to man-spread next to her and they had quite abruptly knocked knees. The staff seats toward the front of the plane weren’t quite as spacious as the player seats further back.

“You brought some serious negative energy with you on this trip,” he shrugged, reaching for the bag of skittles she had stashed in the pocket on the seat in front of her and stealing a handful, “And I can’t blame you for us losing, so I’m gonna blame you for constantly trying to abandon my event and making me feel so insecure about it that it turned into a complete bore-fest because I didn’t have my literal professional event planner friend to help me set it all up.”

Jack Hughes had joined the New Jersey Devils at the same time Poppy had started her internship. There had been some corny ice breaker session for everyone new to the organisation that season, and they’d bonded over their shared love for country music. He’d become dependent on her as a local to the area for recommendations for everything - food, sports bars, coffee, grocery shopping, running routes - and they’d quickly developed a friendship that had lasted them thus far. No fallouts, no drama, no issues. Being friends with Jack is easy. 

Poppy is older by near enough 18 months, and considers him as close to a little brother as she will ever find - annoying, teasing, loud and somewhat of a know-it-all, but he cares deeply, and he’s loyal, honest and open with her, and she loves him for it.

“I’ve done my part even helping you plan the thing,” she had to snatch the bag back from him before he finished the skittles off, needing the sugar to keep her awake for the quick drive home when they landed. Jack had been on her back about this party since he had first put his name in the hat to host, and she had been gracious, helping him arrange food, drinks, decorations and DJ equipment in the hopes it would lessen the blow that she didn’t want to attend. “I didn’t bring negative energy.”

“Do I have to kidnap you when we deplane or are you gonna come around tomorrow morning and help me?”

“Kidnap me?” she couldn’t help but laugh, casting a quick measured glance over his figure. “Real cute, Jack, you’re nothing without your stick.”

“I could take you.” He attempted to throw a skittle up into the air and catch it in his mouth, not accounting for the fact they were on a moving, somewhat turbulent plane, and he barely had enough finesse to pull that off on the ground. The candy landed and bounced off his cheekbone, and he watched it fall to the floor with a child-like pout. 

“It’s fighting talk like that that would lose you another tooth, Hughesy,” she had threatened in jest. 

“I’m a middle child, I don’t start fights I can’t finish, Popcorn.” He also has a track record of giving Poppy the worst nicknames she has ever heard in her entire 24 years on this Earth. “Luke’s already said he’ll help me on the kidnapping front, we have a plan.”

“Your plan is nothing without incentive, Jack. You come at me with weak threats when you could just offer me something in return.”

“Like what?” His eyes narrowed toward her, shuffling in the seat until he was facing her fully. 

“I want to bring Nia.” If she was going to be subjected to this, she was bringing back up - and she had thought this would be a good trade, knowing how protective the boys were of their private events, especially those thrown in their own homes.

Poppy hadn’t liked the way his lips curved up immediately, like she had fallen straight into his trap. “Done.” She should have known better. He stood up, edging back into the aisle and sending her a wink. “I’ll text you details on when and where I need you. Your hot friend is more than welcome to offer a hand, too.”

And that is how Poppy has ended up spending the day of New Years Eve, her favourite day of the year, rushing to set up Jack Hughes’ apartment. 

Her first task had been to go round to Jack’s and accept the deliveries that came while he and Luke were out picking up the decks for the DJ. Drinks arrived by the crateful, the boxes of paper plates, cups and other table wears took her several trips up and down from Jack’s apartment to the building lobby until she broke out in a sweat, and she had done her best to hang all the decorations, her last call being to pick up the bigger decoration delivery from downstairs.  

Poppy, with the help of Lionel, the building’s concierge, loads the elevator full of decor, ranging from golden helium balloons that spell out ‘Happy New Year’ and ‘2024’, a large roll that should hopefully unravel to reveal a backdrop for a makeshift photo-booth, as well as a deconstructed balloon arch that gave her PTSD from the amount of events at the Rock she’d had to put them together.

Lionel offers to come up with her to help unload everything upstairs, but the thought of cramming another person in there with all the stuff makes her feel claustrophobic, so she politely declines - though, when the elevator doors open and she bumps face first into a firm chest, her nose smushing against a khaki t-shirt she wishes she had someone else with her to buffer the tension that stiffens her spine. 

A large, calloused hand wraps around her upper arm to steady her, and another reaches out to keep the doors of the elevator from closing in on where she stands. She looks up into eyes swirled with the colour of warm, melted chocolate, and her throat feels just the slightest bit drier than it had 5 seconds ago.

“Hey,” Nico Hischier’s voice is deep, scratchy like he’s just woken up - he probably has given how late the team got in last night - and trickles down in static currents from her ears to the base of Poppy’s back. 

She takes a short, startled step back, and gulps down the dryness in her throat before she gives a quick, “Hey,” in response. “Sorry, I’ll just take a second to unload all of this then the elevator is yours.”

“I’ll help,” Nico doesn’t phrase it as a question, as if knowing she would immediately decline. Not, let me help, or do you need help? He’ll just do it. “You get everything out and I’ll take it inside?”

She nods, despite the voice in the back of her head telling her that he’s only helping to get the job done quicker, and be able to get downstairs. She makes a conscious mental effort to drown it out while the two of them work in a silent tandem, her lifting the decorations into the hallway and him towing them down and into Jack’s apartment. 

She makes another conscious effort not to watch when he lifts things, the flex of his arms, the rippling muscles of his shoulders.

“Is that the last of it?” He asks, gesturing to the rolled up backdrop leaning on the side of the elevator and propping it open. 

“Yeah, but I got it,” Poppy gives a tight smile, lifting the roll but staying in place so the doors don’t close behind her and she doesn’t get stuck any longer in Nico’s presence on her own. “Thanks for helping.”

There used to be a time she couldn’t get enough of being around Nico, but those days are long gone.There is a permanent frigidity between them now - it’s been there since the summer just gone - and she’s overstimulated enough having spent her morning being Jack’s lackey while he no doubt slacks off with his brother grabbing brunch out. Her patience is beyond wearing thin, and so the last thing she needs is prolonged contact with the Devils captain where she will no doubt end up blowing up and making everything worse.

No one wants to ring in the new year with an almighty fallout.

She can’t help the frown that befalls her features when he makes no effort to occupy the elevator. He makes no effort to do anything, only looking at Poppy with a pensive pout. “Jack said I should come help you out.”

Of course he did, she thinks.

For the past four months, Jack Hughes has been acting like it’s his greater purpose in life to bring Nico and Poppy back together - like the demise of their friendship was the greatest personal inconvenience he has ever faced in his life. 

He has orchestrated one too many ‘accidental’ run-ins just like this one, and Poppy isn’t going to entertain his childish games any longer.

Nico doesn’t want to be her friend - she knows this for a fact - so Jack’s schemes are becoming a waste of everyone’s time.

“I’m alright, Nia’s on her way, you don’t have to hang around.”

Nia was due at Jack’s apartment two hours ago, but is no doubt still asleep after she was out last night for her pre-New Years celebrations. She’ll come over soon enough, though, and so Poppy doesn’t feel entirely deflated to turn down help she actually might currently need.

“I don’t mind waiting until she gets here.” Nico shrugs, again not giving her a natural opportunity to say no. He nods towards the apartment, gesturing for Poppy to start making her way over. “We both know she won’t take the stairs.”

Something about the way he so casually recalls information about her best friend plucks at her nerves, just a little, reflective of the part of their lives they had once shared with each other like it was nothing, but she shrugs it off, beginning to head towards the apartment with the roll tucked under her arm.

“I thought New Years was your favourite holiday?” He asks once they’re both inside, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him and somewhat trapping her in his presence echoing throughout the room. He doesn’t allow for any kind of prolonged silence between the two of them. If Nico Hischier is good at anything, it’s getting people to talk to him.

It’s not entirely that she doesn’t want to talk to him.

She does.

She’s wanted to talk to him every day for the past 4 months that they hadn’t talked - has been craving even mundane, casual conversation about the weather or traffic on the way into work, but now, as he yet again indifferently recollects such personal details about her as if they have remained close, she begins to feel uneasy.

“It is,” she gives a half-hearted, dismissive response. 

“Then why are you all grumpy?”

“I’m not.” She frowns, eyebrows furrowing and arms crossing as she turns to face him, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue.  

She’s not trying to be difficult. Or maybe she is. She is in a particularly bad mood, but she had thought she’d done a good job at masking it. He’d been around her all of 2 minutes and saw right through her. 

“Jack said you’ve been off all morning.”

Like he cares, she thinks, her mood souring further at the fact he doesn’t see through her or even care at all, he’s here at the request of someone else. Following up on his duties as a captain and fulfilling a favour for one of his actual friends.

Embarrassment floods the pit of her stomach, and rears its ugly head in the form of her biting tone when she replies, “Jack’s been out all morning, how would he know?”

“He left you to do all this on your own?” Nico frowns, gesturing around to the half-way set up apartment. All that’s left to do aside from put up the decorations she’s just lugged up is set up the food and drinks, and Poppy figured she could leave that task to Jack so that it all remained fresher for longer. 

“I do this kind of thing for a living, remember?”

She cringes inwardly at the venom in her voice, turning away from him with a huff and missing the way his posture deflates. 

“You run events, Poppy, you’re not an assistant.” She can hear his heavy footsteps follow as she moves to set up the photo-booth area. “If I’d known he had you running after him all morning, I’d have-,”

“Called someone else to come help me so you could carry on avoiding me?”

She really is wound up now. Jack bailing on her to do God-knows what while she sets up his party had been one thing - there was a rational part of her brain that would tell her there would no doubt be hiccups in trying to source a bunch of DJ equipment in New Jersey on New Years Eve and he hadn’t actually bailed - and she could write off Nia’s disappearance due to the fact Poppy had sprung the plans on her last minute when she got home and called her last night, and she was bound to show up at some point. But Nico implying she is letting Jack walk all over her and needs anyone’s help to get through setting up a basic party is downright offensive. At least, in her stressed out state, it is - and so she can’t find it within herself to bite her tongue about their situation any longer.

If it drives him away and brings back her solitude to finish setting up without him occupying any precious mind space, so be it.

She almost forgets a key fact about the man before her. He doesn’t give up so easily.

“I’m not avoiding you.” He bites back, stepping into her space and helping her lift the backdrop roll to fit into the brackets she had set up earlier when the structure for the booth had arrived. “I would have come to help you, myself, Poppy.”

She wishes he would stop saying her name. 

4 months of radio silence and he’s thrown it at her like a dagger twice in the span of 30 seconds, the way his it rolls of his tongue in a low, smooth rasp scratching an itch she didn’t know she had, and now she can’t shake it. 

“I’m fine,” she huffs, reaching as far as she can and pressing until she hears the brackets click into place. At the brief noise, Nico catches on to what he needs to do at his side and manages to click it into place, barely lifting his arms. She moves into the middle of the structure, pulling at the velcro tab holding the roll together until it cascades to the floor and unveils the backdrop in its entirety. 

“What else needs doing?” He asks, his tone gentler this time.

“Nothing,” she mutters, winding the velcro in between her fingers to occupy them, before moving to pass him and make her way to the next task on her list. It’s only small things now. Arranging the balloons, setting up the arch, clearing table space for the equipment when Jack finally arrives home. “You can go, I’ve got it.”

“Mohn,” Nico sighs lowly, warm hand clasping around her forearm as she attempts to pass, holding her in place beside him. 

She really wishes he wouldn’t call her that.

If Jack is the prince of childish monikers that make her insides curl, Nico is the king of making her melt.

The nickname takes her straight back to the days before the waves of the summer break washed their friendship away. The times where he’d give her a ride home from the Prudential Center after work, whispering a, “Goodnight, Mohn,” in her ear as they hugged goodbye over the centre console in the front of his car. The times she’d meet up with the team to celebrate a win at their favourite bar, and he’d throw a never-casual, “Looking good, Mohn,” her way with an appreciative once-over. 

And it takes her even further back to when they had met, and she’d first offered her name.

“I’ll be interning with the content team, my name is Poppy,” she had offered a bright smile, reaching her hand out for him to shake, and making sure to keep a firm grip, just like her father had taught her, when he places his hand in hers. As she had done since she was a child, it was instinctual to follow up with, “Like the flower.”

“Mohnblume,” he had uttered, a smile so deep his cheeks dimpled into deep valleys.

“Huh?” She had been only a little bit caught out by the way his eyes shone, forgetting her manners as her head tilted to the side in confusion.

“Poppy flower, that’s what it is in my language.”

“Oh,” she had exclaimed, furrowed brows raising, a soft flush warming her cheeks, “Pretty!”

“Very.”

She had convinced herself for a long time that it was just his way of remembering - an aid in blurring the lines between the two languages that, especially back then, he often found himself mixed up in. And then, after a while, using it seemed to bring a protected familiarity between them - like an inside joke - and he’d use it less in front of others and more in the times it was just the two of them.

Years down the line from hearing it for the first time, and months down the line from hearing it for the last, her heart still thumps the same erratic beat at the sound.

Nico’s eyes still shine the same way when he looks down at her, and she fights every fibre of her being not to think too much about it. Or not to think about the touch of his hand on her arm, still holding her in place, the two of them closer than they have been in a long time, now.

It’s painfully easy to forget the months of distance after only seconds in his immediate company - to wipe from her memory the reason for her reticence and to push down the stubborn desire to push him away.

Her lips part to speak, and she doesn’t know if she’s about to turn him down or take him in, because another voice fills the apartment before any words get the chance to spill out.

“I come bearing gifts!” A sing-song lull breaks the silence as her best friend makes her presence known, entering the apartment with a drinks carrier in one hand, and a to-go back over the other wrist. 

Poppy steps away, shaking Nico’s grip from her arm, and turns to give Nia her full attention, hoping that she is either too hungover or too focused on herself to see or care about the obvious tension between her and the captain. She manages to bite her tongue from letting a Thank God slip out, and makes her way over to retrieve a much needed drink.

“They were out of chai so I got you an iced tea,” Nia holds out the drink to Poppy, and then the to go bag, “And half a cinnamon roll.”

“Half?”

“What? I was hungry too.” Nia scoffs, turning her attention to the brooding presence on the other side of the room. “Sorry, Nico, I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Would you have only eaten a third if you did?” He trials a joke, and when Poppy sneaks a peak back toward him, he looks apprehensive - scratching at the nape of his neck as if anticipating a bad reaction to his attempt at lighthearted humour.

“I’m sure Poppy doesn’t mind sharing if you’re starving,” Nia makes her way to the bar set up by the kitchen, placing her own cup down and shrugging off her purse beside it. 

“I wouldn’t dream of depriving her of half a cinnamon roll.” While his words are directed to her best friend, Nico looks at Poppy with a wistful smile, and she can practically see the memory of an old shared routine wash over his eyes. 

A weekly ritual of meeting by the PATH station close to both of their apartments on a free morning for a run, and then catching breakfast to go and grab a juice or a smoothie for the walk home - abandoned just like all the other little traditions they once had together.

Nico and Poppy had been close, before. Closer than she is to Jack, now - closer than she’s been to anyone else on the team, ever. So close that Nico knows her best friend enough to joke around with a familiar ease; so close that they’d even hung out as a three before, back when the girls shared an apartment in Poppy’s first year with the Devils, and he had been the only person that Nia had ever been happy to share her childhood friend with. 

And now, Poppy stands between them in a silence so uncomfortable she feels like the room is shaking.

She hasn’t talked to Nico in months, and hasn’t talked about him in just as long, but she knows Nia can read her like a book. 

The girls had grown up together - been through everything side by side, pinky fingers intertwined with an eternal promise of friendship and understanding. The demise of relationships, friendship group implosions, familial hardships, Nia’s goth phase, the time Poppy wrecked her hair dying it a vibrant cherry-red because her high school crush said Ariana Grande was hot - she still shudders thinking of how her hair glowed red in any direct light for years in the aftermath. Through middle school, high school, college, and all the way up until now, the pair know each other inside out.

So Poppy knows that Nia knows something happened.

Nia knows that Poppy hadn’t been able to go a day without bringing up the Swiss Captain before the summer, and then all of a sudden, she didn’t mention him at all. But she also knows her friend well enough and loves her too much not to have pressed on an open wound.

“It looks insane in here, Pop,” Nia gawks at the set up around her, every corner of the open plan layout of Jack’s large apartment decked out with decor and party amenities. “Do you guys go this hard every year?”

“Depends who’s hosting,” Nico shrugs, knowing when it had been his turn the year before, his event had been much more lowkey. Poppy had seen the pictures, had been sent an abundance of wish you were here snapchats around midnight from the Captain himself. Jack has a thing about his reputation that won’t let him even consider doing anything lowkey. “I forgot this would be your first year coming.”

“Oh, we’re not coming.” Poppy covers her mouth as she speaks around a bite of her food, unable to wait until she’d finished her mouthful due to the immediate urge to shut him down once again.

“You’re not?” He almost sounds disappointed. She doesn’t dare check for the furrow of his thick eyebrows or the pout of his lips. “Jack said he’d convinced you.”

A flash of anxiety shoots across her chest at the thought of him considering her attendance. Had he asked Jack? Had he mentioned her specifically - pushed him to convince her? Or had Jack just brought it up in an offhanded comment?

“I just agreed to get him off my back about it.” Her choice of words is only slightly intended to hurt. She and Nico were no longer friends - she hadn’t been the one to make that decision. Despite that fact, she tries to suppress the guilt clawing at the base of her throat at the wash of understanding that passes over his features. A solemn nod, gaze bouncing to the floor, lips pressed together. “We have plans with our friends.”

“Actually,” Nia’s voice captures both their attention swiftly - Poppy’s head whipping around in subtle alarm and Nico’s in anticipation. “Blake’s flight back from Arizona got cancelled, and Kelsey bailed on me last night because she got Covid of all things over Christmas.”

“What about Emma?” Poppy asks, hoping and praying their hermit friend has all of a sudden grown some stellar social skills and agreed to carry on their tradition for the sake of Poppy’s sanity.

“She double booked with her boyfriend, and he’s a huge drip I don’t really wanna hang out with those two all night.” God damn Emma and her tool of a boyfriend, Poppy thinks. “At least if we come here, we’re still close enough to your place we can make it back for fireworks on the roof.”

“We get a great view of them from this building,” Nico makes his presence known again, attempting to offer a solution. “If you didn’t want to walk back home so late.”

“See, Pop,” Nia claps her hands together with a grin, “We get to come to a cool party, don’t have to worry about creeps following us around all night, and still get to hold on to tradition. Win, win, win if you ask me!”

“Right,” Poppy sighs, knowing now that Nia has her heart set on the plan, there’s nothing she can do about it. Any persistence on her part would be too obvious. “Fine.”

“Awesome! What’s left to do?”

Poppy eyes Nico, knowing she’d told him only a few minutes ago that there was nothing left. “Just need to clear a table for the equipment Jack’s getting,”

“Which one?” Nia asks, making her way over with her iced tea in hand once Poppy points toward the table in the corner by the wall-to-wall window. “Are you helping or just standing around looking pretty?” 

Nico’s cheeks flush, a subtle warmth arising to his skin, and he gives a bashful chuckle.

Poppy feels a little nauseous, and it’s not from the sickly sweet half of a pastry she’s just forced down.

Nia’s eyes flicker between the two of them like she’s at a grand slam, and her lips twist to hide a smile.

“I actually need to head out,” he says, gaze darting quickly to Poppy before turning to her best friend, “I have some things I need to do before tonight. It was good to see you, though, Nia.”

Nia hums around the straw of her drink, giving a dismissive wave. “You too, see you later!”

Nico begins towards the door to the apartment, and just before he passes Poppy, he stops. He doesn’t reach for her this time, doesn’t step too close, but she can feel his presence regardless. And every hair on her body stands to attention like she’s been shocked by static when he says, lowly, “I’ll see you tonight, Mohn.”

She can only nod in response, not trusting her voice to speak, not trusting her eyes to look into his and be able to look away. 

After he departs, there are a few minutes of an ear-piercing silence. Poppy can hear every movement Nia makes, from the slurp of her drink, to the manner in which she throws things around with little care for where they end up. And louder than anything, she hears the violent thud of her heartbeat in her own ears.

“So,” Nia drags out when Poppy joins her at the almost empty table. “What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?” Poppy and Nia have known each other fifteen years, she doesn’t know why she hopelessly thought that would work.

“Don’t play dumb,” Nia scoffs, “You and Captain Sexy,”

“There is no me and Nico,”

“But you know who I’m asking about,” she scoffs like she’s caught her best friend out, and then adds, with a suggestive wiggle of her brows, “So you do think he’s sexy?”

“What are you, twelve?” Poppy rolls her eyes, “He’s the only captain we’ve been in a room with, pretty obvious who you were referring to.”

“Admit it, Poppy, I saw the two of you when I came in, you totally wanna jump his bones, you have for as long as you’ve known him.”

“We’re not having this conversation, Ni.”

“The hell we aren’t!” Nia grabs her best friend by the shoulders, “I’ve bitten my tongue for months, Pop, watching you mope around and get all glum whenever work is brought up. I couldn’t get you to shut up about the guy before, what the hell happened between you two?”

“Nothing happened!”

“It totally did!” Nia can spy the aversion Poppy is attempting from miles off. “Don’t tell me you two finally hooked up and you didn’t fill me in,”

“He has a girlfriend, Nia.”

The way Poppy says it is like a period to a sentence. End of conversation. End of speculation. It doesn’t matter what they had been before, or what they are now. It doesn’t matter what she feels. There is no her and Nico because he is someone else’s. That’s the crux of it.

“Since when?” Nia frowns. 

“Since the summer just gone.”

And there it is. Understanding washes over the face of her best friend, and Poppy has to force herself to look away. 

He’d maybe been with her before that, too, but Poppy doesn’t actually know the entire timeline of it.

All she does know is that he’d come back from Switzerland with a drop dead gorgeous model hanging off of his arm, and he no longer had a use for Poppy in his life.

She knows other little bits, that she’d sourced from parts of conversations with others, or potential social media sleuthing that she will never admit to even with a gun to her head.

Talia, a model from somewhere close to home back in Europe, and Nico had hit it off at some festival when he’d gone back to Switzerland for his break. He’d very quickly and very clearly become smitten with her. Poppy had seen as much with her plastered all over his private stories and even posted on his private instagram feed.

By the time he came back to New Jersey for pre-season training camp, she was tagging along to team gatherings, he’d take her on his morning runs, grabbing breakfast together, he’d pick her up every day after work so he could no longer drive Poppy home, not that he’d ever attempted to explain any of that to her. She was at every home game, was his plus one to every event, and Poppy and Nico’s friendship had fizzled out so much that she sometimes feels like the whole thing had been a fantasy, or a figment of her imagination. Something she’d misunderstood, miscalculating every interaction they had ever shared and assuming they meant the same to him as they did to her.

They didn’t.

She doesn’t think any of it would have hurt her so much if he’d have let her down easy. A sorry for bailing on you the first time she’d text him if he wanted to meet up for their weekly run and he’d left her on read would have lessened the blow. He could have been straight up with an I just want to focus on my relationship right now. That would have been the decent thing to do, but he’d just dropped her, instead. Didn’t come around her office for lunch, didn’t text her after training when one of the guys said something stupid and he thought it might make her laugh. He’d cut her off from the intimate parts of his life - ghosted her, even - and all she could find it in herself to do anymore was miss him.

She’d made attempts to bring him around, at first. Tried speaking to him at work, tried texting, but after a few weeks of staring at the delivered sign at the bottom of their message thread, she had given up. It still taunts her every time she opens it up to delete the entire thing and move on like he clearly has - erasing all the inside jokes and times they had confided in one another like they meant ever meant anything in the first place.

She can count on her hand the amount of times they had spoken since the summer. Work related, entirely. A good game here and a have you seen whoever? there. Today is the first indication in months that they had ever been anything more than two people who worked in the same organisation. Friends of friends, co-workers, barely acquaintances.

Not people who know each other’s favourite holidays and are chummy with each other’s friends.

“I’m sorry, Poppy,” Nia frowns, “I didn’t know.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs, attempting nonchalance despite the stinging in the back of her throat. “Let’s finish here so we can go get ready.”

Nico

Nico Hischier isn’t the biggest fan of New Years Eve. He isn’t really a fan of the festive period, at all. He isn’t a scrooge by any means. He can appreciate the coming together of people and the celebration of the year just gone, and the one starting fresh - but ever since he moved from Switzerland and started his career in the NHL, the holiday period has felt unnecessarily long.

His schedule is jam packed - games up until the 23rd, starting again after Christmas on the 27th, and again after New Years on the 3rd - and there aren’t enough consecutive days together to celebrate in the way others get to do this time of year. 

He knows he has to make do with the fact - a small price to pay for living his dream - and his teammates help, all sharing in their sacrifices and trying to make the best out of a bad deal. But he can’t help but feel a lack. A lack of tradition, a lack of family being around, a lack of normalcy.

He remembers the holidays as a child, spending time at home with his parents and his siblings, having two weeks at home for his winter break and getting to spend his days doing whatever he pleased. As someone who moved overseas at such a young age, he looks back on those times fondly. 

But now, living at least 8 hours away from the rest of his family, this time of year only serves to remind him of the isolation that creeps up on him like a bad cold.

It starts at the beginning of the month, the sniffly nose period of the bug, when chatter starts around who’s doing what for Christmas. Decorations go up, parties are planned, names are passed around in a hat for Secret Santa, and discussions begin around who is managing to go where. 

Next comes the tickle in his throat - the last game before Christmas, where the team all depart and separate with temporary goodbyes as those who have family nearby all get to go home - their parents arranging home cooked extravaganza meals, reuniting with their siblings, exchanging gifts - and Nico, for the 5th year running, feels like a bit part in someone else’s festivities as he and a few of the other European guys all bustle into the dining room of whoever is willing to accommodate them for the day. 

Then comes the rest, the sneezing, the coughing, the lethargy, in the period between Christmas and New Years, when everyone is reeling off the back of their celebrations and looking forward to ringing in the next year with a big party. 

Nico had thought this year might have been better. He had been in a relationship, there were parts of the holidays he could tweak and adopt into his circumstances - exchanging gifts with a loved one, bringing her along to Christmas dinner at Jesper and Nicole’s place, and not having to feel like a third wheel or like he had to shrink to fit at the kiddie’s table. 

He’d even tried to start his own holiday traditions with Talia, his girlfriend. He’d booked an overnight stay at a fancy hotel on the Upper East Side in the middle in the month on one of the rare occasions he’d had two consecutive days with no game or other commitments - despite how hectic his schedule had been. He’d taken her Christmas shopping down Fifth Avenue like she’d talked so much about how she’d wanted to do ever since she came out to New Jersey with him after the summer. He’d taken her ice skating, away from the Rock so that it didn’t feel like work, they had bought and decorated the tree in his apartment together, he’d brought her along to every team holiday event.

And on the day of their home game against Anaheim on the 17th, just a few days after their trip into Manhattan, in the middle of the third period, she had unceremoniously dumped him with an I’m just not feeling this anymore. Over text. As she was already at the airport preparing to fly back to Munich to spend the holidays with her family. He had slumped into his locker after their brutal 5-1 defeat and couldn’t believe what he was reading.

Nico wanted to be angry. As he read the text, he could picture any other person throwing and smashing things. Calling her up and demanding an explanation - because it was clear she hadn’t been feeling it for longer than she let on, considering she was about to board a no doubt fully booked flight across the Atlantic in the eleventh hour. 

But there was too large of a part of him that just felt relieved.

Talia was great.

He had met her properly in the summer when he had gone home to Switzerland, but they’d had mutual friends long before. He’d liked a couple of her instagram pictures here, she had responded to a few of his stories there, and then they had been formally introduced at a friend’s party.

Things with her were easy, at first. Nico wasn’t looking for anything serious, and she had ticked all of the right boxes. She was good company, always down to do whatever he was doing with whoever he wanted to do it with. She recognised that summer was the only time of the year he truly had to himself, and she let him take the reins on how he wanted to spend it.

She would go on hikes with him, would lounge around in the sun if wanted, go to parties, go to festivals, join him on little weekend trips to Ibiza or Mallorca. And she was a great release when his training had picked up. She would work around his schedule. He’d invite her round to his apartment and he had enjoyed spending time doing nothing with her after a long day at the gym or at the rink.

She had slotted so perfectly into that version of his life that he gave very little thought into inviting her into the rest of it. 

She was beautiful, sociable, charismatic - and then she became hard work.

When summer was over, and he invited her to spend some time back in New Jersey, she didn’t quite grasp how much things would need to change. She constantly wanted to have plans. Wanted to go to parties, wanted to go out, be around other people, take little trips - and he had tried to accommodate her the best he could, but he didn’t have the time for himself, let alone for another person, to be doing things all the time. He had tried to tell her as much, and she said she was okay with it, said as long as he was present with her, she could settle for not doing the things they had in the summer, but she expected too much from him. 

She wanted Nico’s attention at all hours of the day, weaving herself into every aspect of his routine. He wanted to run? She would go with him, could really use the fresh air. He wanted to do some solo training at the gym? She had been meaning to work on her lifting. He couldn’t go to the grocery store - could barely even go to work without her wanting to be there. His phone would blow up whenever they were apart, and if he didn’t text her back straight away, she’d become cold - making him feel guilty and grovel for her forgiveness.

Talia was fun, until she wasn’t. Until she was exhausting, and Nico couldn’t keep up with her any longer. 

She didn’t give him the grace to have an off day. He was tired, he was struggling, and when the season kicked into full swing, and the team’s schedule was packed, he became unable to juggle it all.

His work was suffering, his star was dimming, his body ached and his performance dipped - both in his professional and personal life. 

And so, after the detonation of their relationship, a break up text felt a little like a wake up call.

Talia had contributed so much to the deterioration of normalcy in his life, that Nico was still trying to piece back together his routine 2 weeks later. 

His holiday period this year had been spent in a haze - and it wasn’t for the reason everyone thought. He had caught the pitiful glances sent his way over the dinner table at Christmas, had seen the way the couples in the room tried to spare him of their PDA whenever he was around, and he could have told them it was okay. He was okay. But there was a large part of him that was trying to figure that out, still.

He had known he wasn’t heartbroken. He wasn’t shooting off texts to Talia and begging for her to come back. He’d already boxed up what little belongings she had left behind and was going to ship them internationally after the New Year had passed. He had deleted, not archived, all their photos on his private socials, and had even deleted most of them from his phone. He wasn’t in pieces over the fact she had ended things.

But he knew something still wasn’t right.

At first, he had thought it was work related. Their worst week of the season had happened just before Christmas - 3 losses at home in the span of 5 days - and he thought that could be the reason for his slump. Then, they won against Detroit and he still felt off.

Then, he thought he had been anxious about Christmas - about showing up on his own, having to explain his breakup to everyone not quite caught up on the news yet, and he would have to wallow in that same old feeling of watching everyone else enjoy the holidays. But Jesper and Nicole had thrown together a pretty nice day for the guys. The food was great, the company was great, and he’d gone back to his apartment that night with a feeling of relief - like he’d been dreading something for so long only for him to have genuinely enjoyed himself.

And finally, as if being thrust into a freezing cold ice bath, realisation had washed over him on the morning of the team’s final home game of the year against Columbus. 

He had been walking through the back offices of the Prudential Centre when he had stumbled upon a conversation, and had heard Poppy Jensen’s voice for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I’m just kinda beat, to be honest, J,” she had said in response to a question Nico hadn’t caught. He had thought no one would be around, most of the Foundation staff having the week off, and hadn’t expected to come across anyone on his venture to the best vending machine in the building. The Foundation offices were often frequented by kids, and had an assortment of candies throughout their machines instead of the protein bars or rice cakes elsewhere in the staff areas. At the sound of her voice, he had come to an immediate halt, peaking around the corner where he could see into her office. She was moving some things into a box on her desk and Jack Hughes was reclining in the chair in front of it that once had been claimed by Nico as his own. “I’m all social interaction-ed out, the holidays have kinda beat me to a pulp, I don’t think I could keep up with you guys, I’m sorry.”

Nico watches as she swats at his feet when he tries to kick them up onto her desk, and can’t quite see the crease between her brows as she frowns at their mutual friend, but can remember how it used to form all the same. “You’re such a bullshitter,” Jack had scoffed, clearly pre-empting the stapler Poppy would throw at him, managing to catch it with ease. 

“You can’t call me a bullshitter in my own office,” she gawked, “You don’t see me marching out onto the ice and calling you an attention whore.”

Jack had thrown the stapler straight back. She caught it all the same, and dropped it into the box.

“You haven’t hung out with us in forever!”

“We hung out at the Toy Drive like 2 weeks ago!” There had been two toy drive events organised by the Foundation in different parts of town, and, as he had long become accustomed to, Nico had been put on the one separate to the event Poppy was working. It had been fun, but when he’d checked the social posts the next day and seen the pictures posted of the other team - all smiles between them, a slightly blurry Poppy in the near background of all of Jack’s pictures to indicate how close they had been throughout the event - he had felt like he’d missed out on something.

“That was work, it doesn’t count, Popsicle.” Nico could hear the roll of Jack’s eyes.

“Yeah, well some of us don’t consider helping underprivileged children and spreading Christmas spirit ‘work’, Jack.” Poppy had used air quotes to emphasise her sarcasm, and a fond warmth had spread throughout Nico’s chest at hearing her hold her own against someone as brazenly wise as Jack Hughes. “I thought we were hanging out, having fun, improving our community together. You should really check your ego!”

“I sh-,” Jack had managed to cut himself off, no doubt realising how loud he had gotten. “You’re the one who’s been avoiding the whole team all year, ‘cause you’re hung up on-,”

The door to Poppy’s office had slammed closed before Nico had a chance to hear the end of his teammate’s sentence. Their voices had been muffled after that, and shame had started to creep up on Nico at the fact he’d been eavesdropping on a private conversation.

He’d foregone the snacks he originally snuck off in search of, and returned back to the locker room to get ready for his practice skate. 

For the first time in a long time, when Jack arrived and threw himself down on the bench beside him, Nico had wanted him to bring her up.

In the months prior, he would freeze up at the mention of Poppy Jensen, not wanting to face the reality of his dwindling connection to someone who had once been such a huge part of his life. He had other focuses - namely, Talia - and reflecting on what had once been between the two of them did not serve any kind of good purpose. It opened him up to uncomfortable conversations that he wasn’t willing to have, uncomfortable realisations he couldn’t quite come to terms with, and he had been too comfortable avoiding any kind of confrontation around it.

But in the short time between witnessing the conversation between Jack and Poppy, and getting ready for the team’s morning practice, too many questions had been swirling around his mind, and he needed answers.

Why was Poppy packing up her desk?

Why was she avoiding hanging out with the team?

What was she so hung up on? Had something happened?

He’d spent so long avoiding even thinking about her, that he all of a sudden felt like he’d missed everything.

Luckily for him, Jack Hughes needed little to no prompting for his blabbermouth nature to prevail.

“You know, for someone who’s literal job it is to lead us as a Captain, you’ve done terribly at warning me just how stressful this whole New Years thing is,” Jack had huffed as he began changing into his practice gear.

“I did nothing but warn you,” Nico responded, “You called me Mr Grumpy Pants and told me I was just afraid your party was gonna be better than mine.”

“Yeah, well, you should have insisted, it’s stressing me out.”

“You’ll be fine,” Nico scoffed, running a hand through the mess of his hair and leaning back into his locker. He watched Jack’s jittery movements as he shrugged on his pads, and felt the need to reassure his friend. “Everyone’s looking forward to it. As long as there’s plenty to drink and decent music, people will have a good time.”

“Not everyone,” Jack grumbled, “I can’t even get Poppy to come and she loves parties.”

So that’s what they had been talking about. 

Poppy did love parties, but Nico couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her at one. 

“Poppy has a New Years ritual, she didn’t come to mine, either, I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it.” Nico shrugged, despite the wave of a memory that washed over him of him doing exactly that when she hadn’t showed up last year. He’d had to restrain himself from leaving his own party - spent the night texting her updates on what everyone had been doing, snap-chatting her pictures in the hopes it would entice her the few blocks over from her apartment building. He’d only been consoled by the text he’d received just after the clock had struck midnight, settling for the pride in knowing he had been one of the first to get a Happy New Years message from her - knowing it wasn’t just a mass text she would have copy-and-pasted to everyone else, and had been personalised to him with a bunch of perfectly curated emojis and exclamation marks after his name.

Nico didn’t see Jack’s stiffened posture at the way he had so nonchalantly mentioned her for the first time in forever. Didn’t see the side eye, or the pensive twist of his mouth as he carefully considered his next words like he was about to step through a minefield.

“I’m gonna keep trying,” he had sat back down on the bench beside Nico to put on his skates, “I’m definitely her favourite, she’s been helping me organise the whole thing, I don’t think it will take much to convince her.”

Nico tried not to show any kind of reaction to Jack being Poppy’s favourite, or at the thought of how much time they must be spending together to organise such an event. A part of him knew he was only saying it to rattle him. “Cutting it a little fine, aren’t you? New Years is in a couple days, and the guys from the Foundation aren’t even around this week, are they?”

“She’s covering someone on content until January, I said I’d drive her home after the game and me and Lukey can double down on it. And if we can’t get it done tonight, she’s coming on the road with us at the end of the week. I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Oh,” Nico was thankful for how Jack had leaned over to tie his skates up, because he wasn’t entirely sure he’d been able to mask whatever had flooded over him at the revelation that his teammate would be driving Poppy home.

That was his thing. He was pretty sure his passenger seat was still positioned to her liking despite how long it had been since she’d sat in it. He was still working his way through the stash of smiley face air fresheners she had stashed in his glove compartment. He still felt like he was forgetting something every time he left the parking lot and she wasn’t sat beside him, chatting his ear off about some of the kids she had worked with in the day.

“Maybe you should ask her?”

Nico’s eyes shot over to meet Jack’s in alarm. “Me?”

“Yeah, the more people that ask, the more she might feel like she’s missing out. Flash her those cute dimples, how could she possibly say no?”

“I think I’m the last person that’s gonna convince Poppy to come, Jack.” Nico had tried to be nonchalant about it, but he had come across so painfully uncomfortable that he could feel the hair on his arms stand, not liking the ache that spread through his chest at the statement. 

There was once upon a time that cheering Poppy Jensen up had been a large part of his routine. Even small acts, like bringing her a coffee on a busy day, where he knew she wouldn’t take a break to go get one herself, and knew how much she disliked the stuff from the pot in her office. Sending her texts from across the room when there were big organisation meetings and he could see her chewing at her fingernails at the vast amounts of information being spewed about. Tagging her in cute animal videos he’d come across on TikTok when he was across the country on a roadie and on a different timezone - she’d wake up to them sometimes, and he’d wake up to her response.

“Right, I forgot you two aren’t friends anymore.”

“Is that what she said?” Nico had swallowed down the hurt at the thought of her coming to that conclusion - vocalising it to someone and finalising the decision before he had any chance to do anything about it.

He couldn’t really blame her, though - he’d had plenty of chances.

Nico could feel himself beginning to spiral, words swirling around his head like a tornado of realisation and guilt. 

Aren’t friends anymore.

Avoiding the whole team all year.

Jack is driving her home.

He’s her favourite.

Aren’t friends anymore.

Shit.

He didn’t even take in Jack’s response to his question. As much as he wanted to know the answer, he couldn’t bear to hear it. 

Nico couldn’t face up to what he had truly lost.

It wasn’t his girlfriend of five months, who had dumped him over text during the most wonderful time of the year. It wasn’t a few games, that, sure, it had sucked that they had been beat, but in retrospect, the team had had a pretty decent start to the season, and shouldn’t have had his back up that much. 

Nico had lost someone who had, at one point, been the most important person in his life. 

The person he would usually have gone to to help him through the other stuff - the breakups, the losses, the stress, the anxiety - the crushing weight that had been pressing down on his chest since he had left for Switzerland at the beginning of summer. 

Nico and Poppy used to work around each other like a beautifully choreographed, well-rehearsed dance. She always knew when he was overwhelmed or exhausted, he always knew when she was stressed or upset, and they both knew how to pick the other back up. 

They hadn’t even fallen out of sync when they’d stopped talking to each other, only this time, they were moving around each other. If Nico entered a room, Poppy would leave. If she knew he was going to be at a team party, she’d make up an excuse not to go. If someone mentioned Poppy in casual conversation, Nico would quickly change the subject. All of it had been subconscious, on his part, at least.

It had been so easy after such a prolonged distance between the two of them to move when she pushed, to watch when she ran, like he had grown into his part in their relationship akin to repelling magnets, always moving away from one another.

It had been so easy that he hadn’t even really realised what was happening - lost and handicapped by a thick fog clouding his thoughts and his judgement. He’d let their once blooming friendship wither and die, and for what?

As he had watched Jack waddle out of the locker room for their practice session, muttering a dismissive, “Whatever, I’ll figure it out,” to his Captain, it was like he had been awakened into full consciousness. 

Nico had thought that his turmoil had started with the holiday period. Had thought the ache of homesickness had swirled in with the grief that came with the loss of his relationship, and the shame his poor performances on the ice had thrown upon him. But it had started long before that. He hadn’t been himself since he’d returned from his summer break. Before that, even.

Without realising that he had lost her, Nico had spent the last few months subconsciously mourning his friendship with Poppy - the crushing weight of that grief consuming him to a point that he felt lost with no way out, and had expressed it in a bunch of misguided ways.

He reached into his bag to retrieve where he had stashed his cellphone, scrolling through his Messages app until he stumbled across Poppy’s name. The last text had been sent in September, by her, and he had never responded - had never even opened it, the blue dot to the left of their message thread taunting him with chirps of how awful he had been to ignore it.

Poppy: Hey, can we talk? I miss you.

How late is too late to reply to a text like that? He could only hope she still felt the same way.

Turns out, 4 months might be too late.

Nico has drafted an embarrassing amount of messages to Poppy over the days since that conversation in the locker room.

His notes app has a whole folder dedicated to her. Bullet pointed lists, random memories that made him think of her, structured essays that laid out a timeline of their friendship, and all the mistakes he would need to beg for her forgiveness for. 

He’d tried sending a message when he had got back to his apartment after the game against Columbus, feeling a rush of confidence from the adrenaline of their OT win, his high had soon dwindled when he was alone. He sat staring at all the different iterations of an apology he could offer, and had even chickened out of the final draft of a very simple but hopefully effective, ‘Hey.’

He knew he was overthinking it. A conversation starter would at the very least open the door for the apology, and all he needed to do was talk to her in some way - but that turned out to be easier said than done.

She wasn’t in her office when he’d gone to seek her out at work the next day, and when he realised she was probably in the content and media offices, he felt like he would be cornering her if he sought her out in front of anyone else. When the weight of how far removed they now were from each other’s lives dawned on him, a text felt too informal, and so the paragraphs sat untouched in his notes. The weather hadn’t been too great, so he couldn’t try and intercept her on the running route he knew all too well, and even attempting to orchestrate a seemingly random encounter outside of work seemed too creepy so stopping by the cafe around the corner from her apartment in the hopes she’d be there grabbing a latte was off the cards. 

He’d seen her on the plane to Ottawa, having to pass her seat to get to the team section at the back, but he had a few people boarding behind him, and she had her eyes cast toward her cell, headphones on and typing intently to somebody, he couldn’t even offer her a friendly smile to try and warm her up to the possibility of a conversation.

Between their win against the Senators, and their loss against the Bruins the next day, there wasn’t much time, or energy, really, to seek her out, and so he’d had to press the breaks, but as they flew back to New Jersey from Boston, a panic had started to swirl within his chest.

Nico knew he couldn’t enter a new year without clearing the air, and so time was well and truly running out. He again had seen her on the plane, and when he had plucked up the courage to get up and go sit with her, Jack had beaten him to it. When the plane had landed, and the team bus had driven them all back to the Rock, the Hughes brothers had both walked her to her car to see her off for the evening. 

For someone who had been not-so-subtly trying to initiate a reunion between Nico and Poppy for so long, Jack Hughes sure knew how to get in the way. But, he was easy to forgive - especially when Nico had woken up to his texts late this morning.

Jack: need ur help

Jack: urgently

Jack: wake up dude

Nico: I’m not driving anywhere for you

Jack: not asking u to

Jack: u will like this I promise 😌

Nico: what do you want?

Jack: need u to keep Poppy company

Jack: she’s in my apartment and she seemed off when she got here

Jack: been on her own for a few hours

Jack: so she’s grumpy 👎🏻👎🏻👎🏻 👹👹

Nico: doubt I can change the grumpy part

Nico: especially if you’ve left her alone for hours

Jack: don’t need to

Jack: ur a grump too

Jack: will cancel each other out 👍🏻👍🏻😇😇

Jack: u going down or no?

Nico: fine

Jack: I’ll be back in 1 hr :)

Jack: love u cap 😚

Nico: 🙄

And that was how Nico had found himself trudging down to Jack’s apartment, hopeful at the dream of a bridged gap between him and Poppy, and quickly disappointed by the reality.

She had been cold, rightfully so, and had made it clear as day she didn’t want anything to do with him. She had shrunk into herself, backing away from him any time he got too close,  defecting to a state of avoidance - gaze dropping to the floor, declining his offers to help her, making assumptions she was in his way, as if the thought of him seeking her out had become an entirely alien concept.

He couldn’t blame her for how she was being with him. It had been his fault things had collapsed between them - he’d come to that conclusion with the vast amounts of evidence piled up in his phone storage the past couple of days, but it didn’t make it hurt any less to see her like this - or to feel an actual, tangible resistance when he had tried to insist on being around. She didn’t want him around, that much was obvious, and it was starting to feel like it was to late to fix what he had so royally screwed up between the two of them. 

The once well-oiled machine that was their friendship was now clunky, clattering, dying a slow death with parts that were now obsolete.

But that didn’t change how much he wanted it to work. His parents had once told him when he was growing up that nothing was beyond repair, and if he wanted something fixed enough, he would figure out a way.

They had been talking about a model train he, his father and his brother had made when he was very young. The company that made the sets had gone bust, and they no longer sold the individual parts anymore - so when his sister had stumbled over something in the garage back home, knocked a box, and the once pristine collectable train had tumbled out and ended up cracked and chipped, he had been heartbroken. He and Nina had filled in the chips with wood filler, and touched it up with her nail polish, and it wasn’t the same but in a way it was better - a new sentiment attached with a memory of bonding with his sibling. 

The same thing could apply to his friendship with Poppy. Maybe they couldn’t go back to what they were - maybe they could be better.

And, when Poppy had made one too many attempts to push him away - when he had taken a hold of her after she had tried to move past him, dismissing him and his desire to help her, once again - a fire reignited within him. A spark of hope flickered at the familiarity that had flashed across her face as he referred to her in an endearment he hadn’t let himself use in so long.

In that moment - hand wrapped around her arm, just above her elbow, the skin soft and warm, close enough to smell the all too familiar cloud of vanilla-coconut scent that followed her, and her eyes locked on his - he had seen a crack in her armour.

He had seen an element of want - wanting to reconcile, wanting to fix things, wanting him in her life in the way he had been those months ago - and in a mirror of his own emotions, he had seen trepidation.

They wanted the same things, had the same fears, had the same end goal.

And when the unforeseen interruption of her best friend arriving startled her back into her withdrawn persona, he had realised something else.

Nia’s contrasting attitude toward Nico - open, friendly, familiar - had opened his eyes to the fact that Poppy hadn’t told her best friend about the demise of her friendship with Nico. 

And that, as much as it needed unpacking entirely, was Nico’s backdoor entry into the high security vault of Poppy’s good graces. 

Thankfully for him, Nia’s obliviousness to their tension had worked entirely in his favour. He tried not to look too much into Poppy’s attempted avoidance of spending the evening in his presence, despite her other plans falling apart. Tried to shoulder the blows of her sly digs at them not being friends anymore. Tried to ignore the pang in his heart at Poppy’s best friend being the one to throw flirty jibes his way, and not her. 

A determination had begun to brew within him - swirling, bubbling, steaming - and it was going to push him to finally bridge the gap he had forced between them.

His first success was her agreeing to come to the party, and he could easily build on that momentum.

Nico and Poppy were going to be friends again by midnight, he would figure out a way.

> Chapter One

[call-sign-shark]

Shark in the UK 🦈

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

Hi everyone,

As you might have noticed I was pretty silent since my arrival in the UK. I must admit that I have been through a lot of stress and changes in a very short amount of time and it's only now that I'm finally getting used to this new situation. Below you'll find a detailed post of my adventures so far, so if you are not interested you can simply ignore this and just keep in mind that I'll be returning to my posting schedule and fan-fictions very soon. For those who are curious, fasten your motherfucking seat-belts.

While I'm not an organized person I become one when I have something important planned so I was so well prepared for this journey that I was convinced I was safe from any misadventures... How wrong I was. I was barely done with the security controls at the airport when I realized they literally broke my phone's screen. I don't know if they bumped it or not but they broke it. The same phone in which I had my boarding pass. It obviously happened the only time I didn't print my plane tickets as I usually do. :) Fortunately, my best friend had lent me his old iPhone minutes before "just in case". I managed to airdrop my boarding pass on the second phone and took the plane without trouble despite the flight being delayed by one hour.

Upon my arrival in UK, I took a taxi to the hotel and had a nice time alone. I brought myself to the restaurant and peacefully slept, getting psychologically ready to meet my host family, and oh boy. This is... Something.

When I heard the word "host family" I imagined it to be an actual family, and a bit like when you're an au pair. Retrospectively, it's completely stupid because it was never written but idk my mind went full "ok I'll live with a local family". What a surprise it was when I knocked at the door and was welcomed by one lonely man and the very acrid smell of cigarettes that jumped at my face! While my host dad (@rysko @red-riding-wood @kittenonpluto pimp nickname they said) was extremely nice and welcoming, the more he showed me around the more my face dropped. I wasn't going to spend months in a local family but in an old house more or less laid out like a hostel. A hostel with a strong cigarette smell almost everywhere, five other girls, one dude, and dirt. The differences between my expectations and reality were huge and, as you can imagine, the pill was difficult to swallow. I swear when he opened the door I was this close to run away lmao.

Between my accommodations and the new rhythm of the international school I'm studying in, my mind went completely foggy for a few days. I didn't know what to think or what to feel anymore. Worse, I didn't know if my money was well-spent or if I just got scammed. Now, read what follows before you call me "ungrateful" or "princess-like".

It’s not what I got that made me feel bad, but rather the stupid and nonsensical expectations I had in mind. Then, I slowly realized that it wasn't because I hadn't expected it and that it couldn't be fun. Maybe it had a lot to do with how nice the five other girls and the people at my school are, but I started // I am starting to really enjoy it. The house might be old and not "that clean" (or at least not as clean as I'm used to), but the host dad is lovely, cooks for us every day, we have fast wifi, are close to the school, we have a key and are free to come and go as much as we want without a curfew, and the bedrooms, as well as the toilets, are clean. To be honest, some students have it really worse. I mean, I'm talking about students having to sleep in a room crowded with 7 people, or having to sleep on a mattress on the ground, the host family asking them to buy and cook their own food to the extent of some even locked the kitchen's door at night to avoid the student snacking/stealing food at night. Or students who are on 1 hour of bus-trip long from the school — those conditions I find absolutely disgusting for the extremely expensive price the students have to pay for this language exchange. With everything said, I consider myself lucky despite the cigarette smell and the "clean but not really clean" house.

As I'm writing this, it's Saturday 10 am and I can finally say it: I'm happy to be here, it's a one-life experience and I'm incredibly lucky my parents offered it to me. Unfortunately, I've caught a very bad cold and I've been sick since Wednesday: I think the combination of my emotional rollercoaster, the crazy British weather, my fatigue and half of my classroom being sick have finished me off. Now I can't wait to get better to start attending to a shitton of activities, planning trips around, and going to the pub. Also, I've got my nails done! Look at my freakin' sharp claws teehee.

Congratulations if you're still there by the way, lmao! Thank you for reading my nonsense. I'll be back very soon, both for writing and commenting, just wait for my cold to get better!

Love,

Shark.

tagging some moots: @zablife @brummiereader @emotionalcadaver @justrainandcoffee @peakyswritings @peakyltd

[sadistic-kiss]

Wild dream Slap Ass Recap Part 2:

(You will not believe the dream I just experienced this time. THIS is the type of dream I want not the horror dream I had with sukuna ✋😭.)

*Slaps hands together*

I’m but a poor peasant demon child with horns and a tail, trying to help the sick in my neighborhood. I don’t know what happened to my parents but I was being raised by a wise old lady. Demon and angels are of different class. Angels being prestige and just all powerful. Demons used to run rampant in the world killing humans but then the angels saved the people, but ever since then, demons have been treated like shit. We wear collars that cut off our powers and are used as servants. If we try to take the collar off it will sense it and explode our heads 😭.

So here I am going to my job getting paid but a penny. (YES AS A CHILD) My Angel boss is a real arse. He’s super mean to the demons because he can be. It’s acceptable.

Returning home there is this huge ruckus, I see an angel holding a child by his hair swinging him around as he’s yelling and the mother is pleading. I know this child he’s my best friend, so I’m like hey stop that he was just trying to help his sick mother! But old granny grabs me and tells me to be quiet.

“HE STOLE FROM ME!” The angel is yelling. “A precious heirloom!”

While the mother is crying and apologizing, “I will work over time!”

The angel is demanding double for the price of what was stolen and if the mother cannot come up with the money then he will take the child as payment. The heirloom was already returned but of course bully angels. The mother would need to work a whole year to repay that amount of money. And the angel is demanding it by the weekend. So she accepts knowing that she hasn’t a shot but at least she gets to spend time with her son or come up with something.

I go up to her and tell her that I can try to help as much as I can, maybe we could put some money together as a community. But the mother only smiles at me and thanks me. Then returns home with her child, telling him everything will be fine.

At night I hear whispering outside my window and secret chatter. Sticking my head out im like what’s happening? And I see the mother and child wearing cloaks and another individual I of course know. Clearly they are trying to sneak away. When the child sees me he’s like come with u best friend I like you and don’t want to be apart. And I’m like sorry I’m scared. And he told me it’s okay to be scared, mom will protect you.

I still don’t go because I also have wise old grandma. So instead I tell him good luck.

Fast forward…Well let’s just say they ended up not making it. And to make a show to the other demons they killed the mother and boy and nice man in front of us. I was cryinggggg. To which started my villain arc and old grandma was like I got you I was in the war, I learned how to turn off the collars.

Long training arc/years later I am a teenager ready to wreck havoc. I’m apart of a secret group of demons who are tired of this shit grandpa.

We have a plan mapped out. Me and a few others are to infiltrate the main city for the angels as a servants. A human is going to merge with the powerful angel Tengen who gives them a barrier of protection. (Or something like that). They are of course called the star child ✨. See what my brain did there lol. But we have to kill them before they merge. Yes toji is a demon too he’s the main leader of the operation. his wife was killed by an Angel so there’s his hate :).

Anyways this will happen within a few years but we are preparing now. At all cost we must kill whoever the star angel is.

I got put with the snobby angel Gojo and of course Getou was always there 😭. These hoes were ruthless. Gojo looked down on demons with his beautiful stupid blue eyes. At some point he said something that had me snap on him and I punched him in his face 😂 I thought he was going to have me killed but he didn’t (because the Hoe secretly in love with me lol).

So that was a fun time because the sexual tension was at an all time high for whatever reason. And we may have dabbled in some smut but you know I just want to say that was just the part of my brain that just went brr for my daddies BUT the hatred was still there I swear 😭.

*Time skip*

So the day is upon us, the star child is to be merged with Tengen and would you look at that the idiots that I served got put to protect the girl. There’s like this whole plan from the angels to make it seem like there are multiple star children. But something in me tells me that it’s this girl. (It must have been the obvious connection in my brain lol I cheated)

I’m supposed to stay home but Toji finds me and says it’s go time. Toji catches Gojo and getou off guard the same as in the anime and I’m hiding, waiting for my opportunity. So while toji is fighting gojo I sneak and follow getou and Riko.

*Cries*

So I’m the one that kills Riko while they were talking 😂✋ and getou is losing his mind and I’m like “I HOPE YOU FEEL THAT PAIN BECAUSE THATS HOW I FEEL WATCHING MY FRIEND DIE!”

Boom we start fighting and then Toji comes in and is like it’s time to go girl you did good. And he’s about to kill getou but i tell him I’ll do it but I don’t because that’s still my baby I guess XD.

So we leave and that’s what starts the demon and angel war AGAIN.

*Time skip*

It’s complete anarchy. The purge times ten.

Long story short I start to realize we are starting to become the very thing we hated. getou and gojo went on a full fucking rampage trying to find me and kidnapped me only for some there’s a whole lotta hate sex going on like what 😭✋.

Some enemies to lovers business.

I’m going to be so honest I don’t know how we reached peace because toji and the other demons were trying to kill me for being a traitor 😂, but it may have been the fact that I was preggos with a angel demon baby that came out with horns and wings and everyone was like the first demon angel to be born but then that led to more demon angel children appearing like nay! We’ve been in hiding for too long! We want peace and harmony! And it turns out Megumi was one of them and Toji’s wife was an Angel and she actually died shortly after child birth. Like the plot twist was real. And toji was like I didn’t know I had a son. :0?????

*Daddy son hug*

✨Yay happy ending 😌✨

*WHAT ABOUT THE MURDAAAA? WHAT MURDAAAA???! I SAID HAPPY ENDING*

The smut was quite good too. Hmmm yummy threesome with getou and gojo when they were pissed at me… 🌚🌝 kisses brain* thanks for this lovey movie, it may not have been nanami and me on a cruise but I’ll take it.

Also because I’m a hoe I did sleep with Toji and Sukuna too. But if I make this into a story I may or may not put that in it, I dunno. But Sukuna was a demon who onlry wanted to kill angels for fun so you can see how he got problematic …so we had to lock him up inside a human (YUUJIIII~)

Okay back to sleep I go just wanted to type this out before I forget it ✨🖤✨

[noodlesfics]

If you are still taking requests, I would love to see headcanons about Erwin being in a secret relationship with a (scout) reader and then how he reacts when people find out, I think it would be funny XD (also idk what genders you write for but if you could write this for a male or gender neutral reader that would be great 💞)

Totally no pressure though, feel free to ignore this if it’s not to your liking ^^

Erwins reaction to everyone finding out about your secret relationship

A/N~HI MY LOVE, I WRITE FOR ANY GENDER THAT PEOPLE WANT! I MAINLY STICK TO WRITING IN GENDER NEUTRAL SO THAT IT APPLIES TO ANYONE, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ❤️

He wanted to keep your relationship a secret so that it wouldn't disrupt with your work, also because you both knew a certain glasses wearer would freak the fuck out. And it was certain that you were both not mentally prepared for that moment.

You both knew you couldn't hide it forever, it was hard enough to spend quality time with one another due to the sheer amount of work that you had to do. Especially with Erwin as a Commander and you as a Lieutenant, you only really saw each other in meetings and it was really starting to bother both of you.

It was late at night when you headed down to the empty hall to get your dinner. However, you didn't expect to see Erwin there either eating his missed dinner. You both ate together and enjoyed each others company, not knowing when the next time you will be able to do this will be.

You were both sharing a kiss when the main doors opened, you both broke apart in hopes that no one saw, but that was not the case.

The most high pitched scream erupted throughout the hall, waking every single person up.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD! I KNEW IT, LEVI GET YOUR SHORT ASS DOWN HERE YOU OWE ME MONEY!!!"

It was a surprise to say the least. Due to Hange's god awful screaming, large swarms of people began to appear in the hall to see what all the noise was about. You both just sat there, red in the face and not knowing what to do.

Immediately, people began to realise what was happening. Hange was in a burst of energy and was running laps around the premises whilst continuing her excited screaming.

Levi soon appeared and was not happy with the fact that Hange was right.

"You stupid brats! You just cost me most of my savings aswell as the fact that shitty four-eyes was right!" He was so angry.

As much as he didn't want to admit it though, he was happy to see you two together and happy as one.

"WHEN IS THE WEDDING!? Oh lord, I need to buy my dress! Petra let's go, we are going DRESS SHOPPING!!" God bless the walls she needs to calm down. All the shops were closed due to the fact that it was nearly 1AM and the nearest town was miles away. That didn't stop her though, she stayed all night and purchased a dress.

Everyone was shocked that the Commander and Lieutenant were in a relationship. This was the most exciting gossip that they had heard in months. This was definitely shocking.

Soon enough, to both of your reliefs, Levi literally kicked everybody put of the hall so that you could spend some time together.

You looked at Erwin and you both could not help the smiles appearing on your faces. It was sooner than you would have likes your relationship to be made public, and it was not announced in the most ideal way. However, it felt like a massive relief to be able to be seen with each other and not arouse suspicion.

"Can you guys not kiss in front of me? That's fucking disgusting."

The next day...

Hange came back with both her and Petra's bridesmaid dresses. You kept telling her that you weren't getting married, your relationship was just made public.

She wasn't having it.

"Y/N, I don't care. I have my dress and am expecting an invitation pronto!" Looks like your having a wedding now.

What you didn't know was that she got specially made dresses for Sawney and Bean.

[ratsoh-writes]

"-always like this! You think you are better than me!? LISTEN WHEN YOUR ELDERS ARE TALKING YOU TWO-FACED BASTA- eck!"

Her older brother's soul, a pretty dark blue and red little thing, was forcefully yanked out of his body by red black magic strings. He felt a pang in his chest as his legs gave in.

"Oh, I know I am better than you. Me and the rest know it, just ask anyone. Even dad has stopped talking to you about family meetings because he knows you are a lost cause. So don't even try and raise your voice at me, or you will end up with no mouth."

She was now in her 40's. Three years have gone by since the start of her plan, and no one has suspected anything. And she didn't like it. Everything was going smoothly and that worried her. Her paranoia was starting to get the better of her these days. Making her more snappy than usual, forcing her to snoop into everyone's minds to see if someone was onto her.

And the more she ruminated those thoughts, the higher probability was that something went wrong. And she couldn't let that happen. It was time for a change of tactic. She begrudgingly had to pause her plan for a while, only because this was making her eye bags bigger by the day, and no amount of makeup would be enough by then.

.

"For how long?"

"A couple of months, maybe a year or so. I don't like that everything is going my way"

"Kid... that's a stupid reason"

"It isn't. I have an entire wall full of blackmail material about everyone here... and nobody has suspected anything "

"Maybe because you are that good?"

"Not even I have this much luck"

And she was convinced that she had to stop for the time being. She stopped her plans for a year and a half. Not fully, Sea still made it her mission to copy as many spells, curses, rituals and potions as she could. She found that she liked collecting them.

It was rather calmer now. Since she didn't have to guard her back as much as before, she found herself feeling less weight on her shoulders. And also... found herself thinking that maybe, just maybe, if she stopped now, it would be fine. If she threw her plans of escaping to the toilet, she could finally sleep enough, she wouldn't have to worry about waking up with a knife on her chest.

She could...

She...

She couldn't do it.

She couldn't give up now. That would make Herald disappointed.

She had given him hope of getting away from this place. She would be a demon to him if she stopped now.

.

So she continued. And now that she had rested well, it became easier. Spending time with her uncles, aunts and cousins, going to family reunions, promising to do their bidding in exchange for another spot at the next family meeting. It all became easier to do, her smile never flattered or twitched.

And this earned her even more eyes on her back, something that she had foreseen. And something that was necessary to have. Everything was going accordingly, everyone thought she was a good dog, that she gave her life for her family.

"Ohooo, you look like you have something on her mind~ What is it? Tell me, tell me..."

"Fuck off, Oscar"

"Aw, but I have something to tell you too~"

.

Nothing would have prepared her for what was coming next.

Nothing.

(6/8)

Oscar you b*tch what did you do??? My money is on him either kidnapping a new monster somehow, or finding out seas plans

[a-s-levynn]

15, 30, and 44 for the nosy anon questions! Hope you're having a good day ❤

🫶🏻 Thank you for indulging me to spend time on the train! It got long because 30 kinda turned into oversharey bitching at the end but i had to get it out while i was at it, sorry 😅

Under the cut: fav movie, what i hate about school/work and a random fact about anything.

15: Favorite movie

This is a two answer question depending on how we measure favourite. Do we see the emotional impact or which movie i've seen the most?

If the first, it's definitely Naked (1993, by Mike Leigh). I've only seen it 3 times but boy did it unlock something. I'm not sure what exactly but it had an effect. It's not an easy watchfor sure, but it definitely worth a shot if you are not the 'i only watch light-hearted comedies' type.

On the other hand the movie i've seen the most is either Drive or Blade Runner. Probably Blade Runner wins the numbers but not by much. I love cyberpunk as a genre and after my favourite novel this is what i love about the genre at the core.

30: What I hate the most about work/school

Now i have a bit of a perspective on both, let's talk both.

Mind you this is my perspective on the country i grew up and live, this is not a general opinion.

What i hated about school the most was the fact that we learned a lot of unnecessary things. We accumulate such a large amount of lexical/encyclopedical knowledge that offers next to nothing in a practical sense. And that is by how we measure knowledge. So in an academic sense i'm considered dumb because i can't pull out 50 historical dates out of my arse. Which i can found in any chronological works or somesuch. It's equivalent to saying a fish is stupid 'cause it cannot climb a tree like a cat. I always despised the fact that we never really learned anything with practical application. Like how to prepare an envelope for postage? How to read a proper map? How to fill out a check for bills. Fuckin' how the rules of the road works. And then uni is a whole another beast on it's own because there are no real seminars anymore and it is basically a self-teaching club in most cases.

With work, i find it inherently stupid that the younger you are the less off days you have. You hear from everywhere that 'go travel when you are still young' like no shit, i'd love to but i have 23 off days per year and 19 of them is fixed so that leaves me with 4 fucking days to use at my leasure. Otherwise i can on unpaid vacations but then i have no money and i'll get fired because i'm not working. Retirement age is so high at this point that i either not gonna live long enough or be in no condition to finally go see the world. I despise the 40 hours (5days, 8hours) work weeks. I know that's the standard. I knkw there are jobs that are worse (which is borders on inhuman in my eyes but that's an other can of worms) As someone who lives alone, 2 days of weekend is so fucking short. When am i supposed to do anything? One day taken up by the housework and the other is either for friends which leaves me with no resting time or i rest and ignore my friends. I know i know many fi d it enough but i'm neurodivergent. I have exectuive dysfunction. I have trouble sleeping so i'm constantly tired. I know it's a me problem but like.. i know a lot of people who are in the same shoes. (This also applies to school btw. It's fucking horrid that you are in there for at least 8 hours a day and you have addition homework and than extra curricular shit and then you are left there withouth time for friends basically.) This is the general qualms of my life regarding my work.

A more immediate one is the fact that i work at a religious organization's library and i'm not religious. I'm not straight and definitely left leaning. So i mostly just keep to myself and do my job. Which is at least appreciated but still the crap i hear sometimes is.. Let's just say i kinda have an existential crisis every three days just by overhearing conversations on the hallways. But it pays the bills better than any other alternative and i really needed to start to work after uni and there wasn't many options during covid. (Not that i make good money in general, i'm only managing to live comfortably because i live in my friend's smaller room and she doesn't ask market price for it. When i have to move out i have no idea what i'm gonna do..) Not that there is many options right now especially with all the crap happaning in the family.. But at least both my bosses are nice and nobody tried to convert me yet. That day would be the one when i hand in my resignation even if it makes me homless i think. But so far it's fine. But i'm definitely not making friends over there.

44: A random fact about anything

Uuhhh my favourite random fact is actually is pretty well known i think, but it never fails to amuse me that wombat poop is square. Look i'm a simple person with childbrain. I find these kinda stupid things fun and interesting just as much as deeper discussions and any kind of wonders and inventions and whatnot. So my random fact is wombat poop. It is square. 😌

[guardianoftheocean]

21st birthday

I had such a great day but i feel so guilty od spending my dad's money. I mean i know this year was particularly not the best academic or successful year for me. I pretty much proved that I'm a sore loser and couldn't get the easiest thing, i left my past dreams at past but still "why on earth, i celebrated my birthday as if i got everything i wanted" i don't know, is ut the social media pressure? I don't know but i feel so guilty that why did i splurge money like this. Am i ever gonna be successful and actually make my parents think that "she deserve those biryhdays" and she deserves every bit of luxuru. Honestly I'm at a point in my life where i have no dreams whatsoever its just that i want to be successful and earn a good amount of money where i wouldn't be scared of getting old rather happy that i got more places to explore and more fun to witness. I don't want to be afraid of thinking what i would be doing when I'd turn 26 years old "will i be traveling? Earning good money?" Tbh i used to think i would get marreie when I'd turn 22 or 25 at most but that doesn't feel like the scenario right now cuz i have no bf or even a guy on whom i have crush on. So, i feel so pressured and i kinda hate my younger self for that for preparing such stupid unrealistic horrendous goals that she and i both know are too out of reach. The dream for 21 yr old evva is to be normal and have descent life, and to not feel lost.

[umichenginabroad]

Rome Week 6: Money, Money, Money

Hey y’all,

It must be funny, in a rich man’s world. But for real, ABBA was on to something because budgeting? It’s hard. The cost of living in Rome is comparable to the US, even a little cheaper in many aspects (thought the strength of the euro does drastically alter this, right now it is reasonable at 1.07x but it can get quite high, and if it reaches 1.15-1.20x things can be pretty expensive). Groceries cost roughly the same as in Ann Arbor, though fresh meat, especially red meat, is a bit more expensive while cured meats and fresh fruits are cheap. I have been doing group dinners with my apartment that have been costing €3-4 per person for a respectable amount of really good food (thank you Samantha). Most important to me, chocolate (and I mean good chocolate, not Hershey’s), is not only cheap but regularly on sale. On a chocolate sidenote, Kinder eggs are banned in the US for, in my opinion, a really stupid reason, so buy some while you are here. They come with a little toy!

(The preparation of a group dinner. This one was really good, they all are.)

Early on in my study abroad journey, I decided that the majority of my money would be spent on travel. I am not an incredibly materialistic person (though there is no harm in being one) as rightfully assumed that I would not be doing a whole lot of shopping while I am here. In fact, the majority of money I spend is on train tickets and places to stay. Travel can be expensive, but there are a few ways to make it cheaper. In general, travel both international and domestic is cheaper in Europe as they have a robust train system that you can use to go to different cities or even countries if you are feeling brave. I have been taking the train all over the country, and the rides are often short, 1-3 hours. A high speed train ticket costs anywhere from 40-70 dollars, and a regular train about half that. It depends on where you want to go, what time you go, depart up how close to departure you book your ticket. Booking well in advance will see cheaper prices. and consider taking an overnight train for longer, more expensive trips. (The overnight train is uncomfortable but can save over €100, it really depends on what your budget and priorities are).

(Flights is cheaper early in the morning and late at night, but you might have to catch up with your sleep on the plane.)

Finding a place to sleep when traveling can also be expensive. Hostels will generally run €15-20 a bed but in more expensive areas (Venice, Florence) can get to over €40, and can be unclean or dangerous. Traveling in large groups has saved me money in Venice by booking a private room which, when divided among 6-8 people, was pretty reasonable. Additionally, consider looking for hostels outside of the city center but nearby to train or bus stops, as they might be cheaper while still allowing you access to anything you want to do. Airbnb or Booking.com is another option which you might find beneficial to consider, especially when traveling in groups. Airbnbs close to the city center may also be expensive but when visiting Florence, we found a large apartment 15-20 minutes away from the center at a reasonable price comparable to a hostel but much nicer, amenities wise. However, make sure that when booking there is public transit available nearby. I visited Sorrento with my roommates and some of us decided to stay in a small mountain town. The location was beautiful and the owner was very nice, and had a restaurant next door that served delicious food at a reasonable price. The physical apartment was also beautiful and spacious. It cost a little under €40 a night per person and was one of the cheapest options we found. However, the bus system that served the town was unreliable and it was unclear which buses served the town or when they were coming, and sometimes the buses just didn’t show up. We almost missed something we had bought timed tickets for because we got ghosted by a bus, and only ended up making it by accidentally hitchhiking down to the city. (Sidenote: hitchhiking is dangerous and I cannot officially recommend it as a form of transportation, I am just being real with y’all about what happened.) The next day we took a taxi down.

(In Capri. It was gorgeous, even though we accidentally climbed up 300m of stairs)

(The stunning view from our airbnb!)

I budget most of my money towards travel, but I don’t totally scrimp and save on everything else. I eat at a restaurant sometimes (though tbh Samantha is such a good cook I don’t need to all that often) and buy lots of gifts for friends and family. Additionally, I have bought some clothes, and a new pair of shoes as the cobblestone streets are really rough on mine. When traveling, I like to see museums and stuff, which can cost €10-20 as well. My key to saving money is moderation. I make some sacrifices in comfort or time to save money, and try to balance my non-essential spending to understand that I want to and am able to spend some money on things that I want but also that I am balling on a budget. I think it is also important to not overthink purchases or beat myself up over spending money, as I am prone to do. Travel is something that will cost money but that I ultimately deem worth it.

Ryan Ettner

Biomedical Engineering

Engineering in Rome

[2009phan]

not dnp related but lmaooo im going thru my old blog bc i wanted to create a pdf with all my diary entries. and i found this voice note and i can't stop laughing at how dramatic it is. like. bestie.

transcript:

Bestie, I am at my limit right now. Like, the exams are just. I feel like such a first world problem girly, because the fact that I can't buy bubble tea today is driving me insane. Like, my neuro divergency is getting the best of me because I need my emotional support sippy cup. And in the winter it's my coffee flask. Like, I always have it with me. I always prepare my little oat milk latte. Or maybe once a week I'll treat myself to a boreal with their fucking banana bread for six francs. And I hate it. I hate being this emotionally dependent on a fucking drink. And then now it's hot. And when was it? Like two, three days ago? I got myself bubble tea and it was so stupid. But it's like the primal instinct of sucking on things and the refreshing beverage. Like, girl, I can't be such a victim to stupid capitalist trends. I need to be an adult and just have my water bottle and not be stressed out about having to buy a seven franc drink every time to feel in control of my life. Like, when I'm explaining it, it sounds like I'm going crazy. And I kind of am. But you know the feeling when you're there at the library studying for this fucking stupid geometry exam, and you have your little drink and every time you take a sip, like, you feel in control? I can't spend seven francs on tea. I feel like my whole life just revolves around paying obscene amounts of money for drinks. Like thé marocain. I fucking love that shit. I will pay 20 francs again. Like freaking coffee from boreal. Even though I have my own coffee machine. Seven francs for bubbl-…. And I know I wasn't raised like this because in normal people culture, you don't have drinks to go. It's a modern American invention to have a drink with you at all times. Normal people, they have a drink during a meal and you sit at the table, you have your little drink or your little tea ceremony or whatever. But no, I had to fall victim to this drink to go mentality. And I hate everything about it. I hate that I'm like this stupid consumerist victim, paying seven francs for some, like, to suck on some balls like… I don't know, this is so stupid. Like, I'm an adult and I'm so emotionally dependent on some drink. Like, I always need to have my coffee flask with me. It's like having a therapy animal, you know? Like you feel lost, but your drink is there, so everything's okay. And now it's summer, so I can't just be drinking hot coffee all the time. And then making tea by yourself isn't very efficient. Because to make iced tea, you need to leave it in the fridge for the night. And every time I leave it, I just forget because of ADHD. And then I never drink it, and then it's all, like, bitter… Again, this is, like, such a first world problem thing. Like, “girl can't make her own iced tea, so she spends seven francs…”. Yeah. Anyway, I'm losing it, girly.

[obeymeluv]

Isnt devildom liquor weaker than human world liquor? Mc had beat Asmo in a drinking contest. How do you think it they'd act, completely hammered in the human world. I think harder liquor means stupider drunks.

Spoiler alert to the in-game MC’s “heritage” reveal. You know, the descendent/reincarnation thing. If you know, you know.

Below: Thoughts on Devildom liquor + the specific incident Nonnie is talking about with Asmo in game + THE ACTUAL ANSWER TO THE ASK. My bad, haha.

My thoughts on Devildom liquor at that point in the game:

The MC is not as affected because they are human/angel. Maybe the angel part fortifies MC and makes it harder for them to get drunk?

Maybe the HUMAN side of MC is what makes it harder for them to get drunk on Devildom liquor? Like...everything in the Devildom is made primarily for demons so maybe there are ingredients in there that specifically affect those with demon blood. Maybe humans don’t have the biology to be inebriated by those ingredients?

I am a little fuzzy on that point in the game but did Asmo pre-game? Like, a lot? Did we ever find out? I could see him being so emotionally distraught that his lovely MC is leaving that he just wants to be sloshed. Maybe he assumed MC beat him in a drinking contest because he forgot how much he already drank?

Maybe Solomon gave MC a heads up that Asmo was down for drinking and gave them a pre-game potion of their own to ward off the affects.

End hypothesis: Maybe Devildom liquor IS strong (for demons) but that potency just can’t translate in human bodies so the bros (Lucifer especially) don’t want MC drinking it because they’re not sure what it will do. They just ASSUME it will do to MC what it does to them.

Other thoughts: Because demons sprinkled little secrets to the humans over the course of history, gave them trinkets and magic and things, I’d like to think they gave humans the idea or process of alcohol-making but are TOTALLY not prepared for the end result. All the flavors, types, etc. 

As far as I understand it (at the point I’m at in the game), travel between the Devildom and human world was widely discouraged until Diavolo could make a program that united the three realms and improved the overall image. So basically everyone has been separated for thousands of years.

What if demons are equally bad at holding human world liquor? I could just see a drunk Asmo being like, “What is this? Sangria? This isn’t what I told them to call it.” as he’s trying to drink and (speed) walk away from Beel, who wants the fruit out of the pitcher.

I could just see them all getting TOTALLY wasted on human world stuff just because they thought “Ahh, we taught them this 5,000 years ago! Of COURSE we can handle it! We invented it!” (spoiler alert: they cannot). Like, I’d like to think their biology works against them here. They heal quicker and probably get over stomach aches and things quicker, so they probably metabolize alcohol quicker to restore bodily equilibrium so they probably get flash-drunk off of just about anything with a decent alcohol content. 

HOW THEY WOULD ACT (AKA: the real question)

The facts: 

They’re all going to be like drunk kittens, big bassy purrs and wanting to cuddle you or scent you. 

They’ll basically curl up in a pile together; you occasionally have to move body parts (so no one suffocates). 

Do a head count every now and then, give them some crackers/carbs when needed, and put water all around them like a summoning circle because when one of them wakes up, all of them will and they’ll act like big babies

Put a bucket near Lucifer and Asmo, they’re sympathy pukers.

Levi and Belphie need total sensory deprivation when they wake up. You may only breach the darkness to bring them things to settle their stomach and anything to kill the headache

Just give Beel bread and anything like Gatorade/Pedialite. He’ll help you with the others after three loaves or so.

Asmo will be especially pitiful and demand you take care of the others first. Once they’re decently able to take care of themselves he’s near teary-eyed, demanding tummy rubs and tell him he’s still pretty even though he feels awful. Please get him a sheet mask.

Mammon’s not functional enough to help with anything major but he’s standing the next day so he rubs that in everyone’s face. He’s the one shuffling around with a half-eaten sandwich, looking for any comfort item (heating pack, cold wrap for his head). He will demon screech at you if you touch any of the lights in the house.

As Mammon comes to, he demands dim lights and acts like a grumpy mom. He’s making porridge and they better shut up and eat it. Says it’s for him but there’s a suspicious amount of bowls nearby.

Satan just swears he’ll never drink again (like always). Dutifully waits for porridge. Spends most of his time letting cold water run over his head. Can’t spend too much time hunched over because he gets nauseous. Baby him a little. Find a way to let his head float in a bit of water where he can lay down and he’s as quiet as a mouse. 

Who can drink the most? (Best to worst - my opinions only)

1) Beel (body mass helps), 2) Mammon (party king), 3) Asmodeus (huuuge history with mixed drinks. Boy is READY), 4) Lucifer, 5) Satan (neck and neck with Lucifer - casual drinker only. Even wine is rare for him), 6) Leviathan, 7) Belphie (usually sleeping instead of drinking). 

Lucifer:

We’ve seen little gags about how ‘Lucifer got drunk and unplugged the router’ so this guy’s either going to be super cuddly, a hot mess, or both

You know the people who fluff their hair, comb it back, undo a tie or some buttons and just get comfy as they drink? That’s Lucifer.

He’ll smile a bit more, laugh a bit more, and there will be some color to his cheeks

He’s not sloppy, just cozy. 

Drunk Lucifer is not overly loud but he is honest. He won’t throw himself into groups or pester all the brothers, but he’s up for some accidentally-heartwarming one-on-one

When he’s drunk he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and let you play with his hair

Will not win any drinking games. Is actually a lightweight compared to his brothers (see best > worst drinker, above).

Mammon:

GO BIG OR GO HOME! MAMMON’S HERE TO PLAY FOR BIG MONEY! (AKA: bragging rights that he can handle more than his brothers)

He and Asmo are quick to get the drinks flowing because they want to try shots of everything. 

He and Asmo are pretty good at matching brothers to drinks and tasting subtle notes, things like that

Show Mammon beer pong once and it’s done. He’s betting the brothers he can whoop them and is somehow able to pull off ping pong ball math to get Lucifer shit-faced real quick (might do it even faster if Belphie or Satan slip him some money)

The type to be like “Bet you I can hit that cup right there--third row, second from the left.” and can do it flawlessly. You have to give him head pats or $5, that’s the rules.

He’ll be one of the bros you have to chase around and make put his clothes back on. Boy will try to strip and strut

Will definitely hoard his favorite bottle (picked it on smell) and spend a majority of the time trying to drink it and avoid the bros. (”YOU CAN’T MAKE ME SHARE IF YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!”)

Leviathan

Not the best drinker. Not a frequent drinker at all.

His envy makes him drink because as he starts to go on a tangent about how ‘it’s not fair! Everyone’s having a good time!’ when he realizes it’s as easy as picking up a drink. Like...he can join in too.

Levi won’t grab himself an alcoholic drink because he’s a nervous over-thinker. Asmo or Mammon will just hand him a cup like the resident Liquor Fairy and he trusts their judgement

The first one to let his demon form out just because the liquor is a little warm in his belly and he feels like he’s flying? Also comfortable?

The excited drunk who goes on animated, slurred rants

The loud laugher

He’s honestly so adorably animated that anyone who knew him would be surprised? He seems far from a shut in

Trade off: he can’t hold his liquor well

Boy probably trips on his own tail or thinks something snagged his ankle to bring him down when, in fact, he just fell down

Sways when he sits

When he’s done, he just wants a nice comfy lap to lay in and maybe play with his hair. 

Like Lucifer, liquor will make him confess all his feelings. 

Watch out for the tail. It will be all over you when he starts to lose the ability to wrap it around himself.

Satan:

It’s a toss-up as to whether he gets drunk before Lucifer or vice versa. I’d like to think his tolerance is slightly higher since he might run in the same circles as Asmo, but he is a part of Lucifer so I’m sure it balances out

He’s a drink snob and this is what hurts him the most. He goes to fancy tastings and random things he’s invited to, but this is a drop in the bucket

He’s never gone hardcore before because he’s afraid he’ll be prone to anger

He’s not. He’s actually a lot like Levi. He just wants to smile and laugh and have fun.

The one who knows a lot of random/interesting stuff and has unexpectedly awesome party tricks

He and Asmo act as instigators and somehow con everyone else into getting drunk. It’s mostly because he wants blackmail material, but he enjoys the mind games

He’s the one you’re going to have to carry BUT he’s super chill when he’s having a good time. You want him to wear a lampshade? Okay, but only if you call him Enlightened One (get it?)

Makes bad jokes. Lucifer definitely laughs

The one that randomly dances with someone at the party. But it’s a fancy dance or slow dance, not something crazy

Will try to prove he’s not as drunk as he is by reading or reciting something and just breaks down into snorts and giggles

Cat Mode: Activated. He wants to be all over you. Hug him and play with his hair, please.

Asmo:

Asmo isn’t really different from his usual self.

He’s a little social butterfly, making his rounds and checking on people

He’s the silent, sneaky drunk. No one notices he’s drunk until his face starts getting red and his eyes get glassy

The quiet cuddler. Just progressively gets closer to you until he’s resting his head on your shoulder, hugging you from the side and asking you to give him his drink.

Would be the happiest person on the planet if you literally just held his drink up to his lips and let him drink it when he wanted to. You just love him so much?! You’re so thoughtful?! He wants to cry

Guilty party #2 for ‘chase him around and make him put his clothes back on’

Next in line for ‘Liquor makes me tell the truth and my darkest secrets’.

Will try any activity at the party and will dance at least once with everybody

If he gets in a fight, that’s because someone doesn’t respect what he put on the party playlist. He knows good music, okay?!

Has a personal goal to steal one drink from everyone, drink it before they realize, and hand them back the empty cup as he slips away. Something about it just amuses him.

Wants to leave lipstick/lip gloss kisses on people. Thinks they’re the cutest accessory!

The one who loses something at the party and makes everyone look for it the next day

The one who’s passed out in a random spot and no one has the heart to move them but everyone checks on them to make sure they’re safe. When everyone’s turned in for the night, he is safely moved like the precious baby he is.

Beel:

The one who takes the longest to get drunk. You don’t know if it’s because of his build or how much he ate to offset the alcohol

Unofficial baby sitter of the group. Pays special attention to everyone but Belphie, Asmo, and Levi in particular.

Not super loud. Just vibes and enjoys time with his family.

He’ll participate in the party activities because he does have that competitive streak but he’s not as invested in it as Mammon. If he wins at least once he’s proved his point and is on to something else

Surprsingly, #3 to ‘you might have to chase him and make him put his clothes on’. Drunk Beel is convinced he’ll get over the alcohol faster with less clothes because of temperature regulation and something that doesn’t really make sense because he’s slurring

Will drink more if Belphie is nearby or if he can hold onto Belphie. Taking care of Belphie and knowing he’s okay (in a tactile way) makes him a little more carefree. 

Doesn’t really confess like the other bros but he’s the one no one can really hear talking because his purr takes over everything. His purrs are so loud and deep! Big boy is truly happy

Drunk Beel is affectionate as ever and this is where you learn that demons can express affection by licking people. Most of the bros end up with a Simba-style mohawk. It’s just one lick but Beel’s got a long tongue and it fucks with hair real good.

Will jump in for a song or two if karaoke is a thing at the party. A really good singer but wouldn’t do it unless he had a decent amount of alcohol in him.

He’s the type to trip over stuff trying to help clean up. If he falls down he says he’s just ‘taking a break’ and will ‘help in a minute’. Might not get up again.

Once Beel lays down, Belphie, Satan, and Levi drunk crawl/stumble/slither over to him for warmth. This is how the cuddle pile starts.

When he lays down, if you get anywhere near him, he’s begging you to lay down with him. Wants to whisper little compliments and lovely things. A big sap. Handsy but will definitely know when to lay off and will listen if you get uncomfortable. 

Belphie:

Honestly, doesn’t really drink. He’s more interested in the nap.

His biggest motivation is to get the others drunk so everyone’s quiet and he can sleep. Definitely wants Lucifer blackmail.

He’ll have a few things but he prefers a lot of something mild versus a mix or a few shots of something super potent

Will try the funnel drink challenge.

The third enticer. He wants to work everyone up (Lucifer especially) and get the booze going.

Borrows off of Beel’s body mass and ability to handle alcohol here and there, but it all catches up with him eventually

The type to have really diluted drinks because he’s already sleepy by nature and doesn’t want to faceplant with a shot glass.

Will slow dance with Asmo. When Asmo starts to struggle with his weight as Belphie gets cozy and sleepy, Beel steps in and you just see the twins purring and warbling to each other as Beel just scoops him up and lets him sit on his hip like a toddler.

Another one who wants to slither into your lap and take all your attention.

The type to do random shit like boop your nose and giggle about it.

The one who doesn’t want anyone else to touch you. If he’s laying on you then the others need to leave you alone. It’s not hard to understand!

[syn0vial]

Hello Wise One! I was actually hoping if you can give me some solid personality pointers on Jango, rather than Boba, Fett?

sure thing! full disclosure that my knowledge of jango is not as extensive as my knowledge of boba, but i’ll do my best with what i have! here are some personality traits of jango’s i’ve observed:

paranoid/protective: this is a big one if you ask me. jango endured a life of betrayal and loss before he became a bounty hunter and it shows. besides boba, he doesn’t trust anyone fully, not even those closest to him and is always ready to cut ties at the drop of a hat—lethally, if necessary. his mistrust of the rest of the galaxy is so potent that when he takes boba on missions to populated areas, he instructs him to hide even from normal foot traffic and becomes anxious when he learns that others may have spotted him. it becomes pretty evident that part of the reason boba was so isolated growing up was that jango didn’t trust the vast majority of the galaxy enough to let them near the kid. and when other bounty hunters find out about him? ho boy. jango actually convinces them that he killed boba using a cloned child’s body, bc he’d rather be known as the worst kind of monster rather than make boba a target. there’s also the fact that, after their apartment on kamino gets found out by obi-wan, jango is packed and ready to leave in minutes. not only is he ready to bug out at the first sign of danger, but he’s well-prepared to do so at a moment’s notice.

a loving father: another big one. for those who look at a man as battle-hardened and stoic as jango fett and wonder whether boba got enough affection as a kid, worry not: in the vast majority of depictions, jango is a very loving father, especially when he’s out of the prying eyes of clients and colleagues. he hugs boba, tells him he loves him, joins him in playing with toy starfighters, and tries to make time for him as much as he can. he even does his dadly duty of going fishing with his son (though he and boba practice spearfishing rather than using a rod and tackle). there’s also a wistful little scene where, trying to help boba feel better after zam’s death, he takes him to kamino’s main spaceport and lets him infodump about all the ships he sees there :,) so overall, he has a lot of good qualities as a dad

controlling: and the other side of the coin! while jango is a genuinely loving father, he’s not at all the type to encourage his son’s independent development. self-sufficiency? sure. interests in anything other than the path jango has laid out for him? not really. he actively discourages boba from learning about “unimportant” topics from books, an apparently very broad category given it includes things such as schools, moms, and other children. he drills into boba’s head that he’s going to be a bounty hunter and that he needs to abide by a code with such healthy guidelines like, “don’t have friends or attachments” and “trust no one but use everyone.” boba, of course, goes with it bc he loves his father and wants to live up to his expectations, but he never really gets a choice in the matter. honestly, i think this side of jango is best summed up by him leaving a post-humous note for boba that says, among other things, “i am more than a parent to you.” it kind of goes along with how, after jango’s death, boba continued to think of his father not just with love and grief, but also an almost religious dread of failing his expectations. jango undoubtedly loved his son but he also seems to have defined a very narrow path for him to walk, without room for deviation.

possesses an actual charisma score: okay, now for a more fun one: jango has a charisma score and he apparently makes a habit of using it, to the point where his old friend rozatta pokes fun at him for it (he compliments her and she’s like “oh, you’re flattering me? must mean you want something!”) he also pulls the same thing on zam, calling her charming to get her to agree to help him break into a target’s stronghold. so yeah, jango fett turning up the charm to get people to help him/give him info? 100% canon, baby

very fun friendship with zam wesell: look, this isn’t a personality trait, but it’s important to me. these two are just so fucking funny together. like, on the surface, it’s just a fun dynamic of zam making flirty banter and jokes while jango pretends to be annoyed and drag her, much to her delight. but then on a professional level, you have these two ammoral assholes bouncing wildly between being one another’s Sexy Rival and being one another’s Unhinged Partner but whoops, jango went and had a kid, so now they’re Unhinged But Mostly Responsible Co-Parents. one of my favorite scenes is when, in an attempt to intimidate a prisoner into talking, zam impersonates a politician and lets jango pretend to “kill” her in front of him. for some reason, even after they’re done, jango continues to bridal carry zam’s “body” into the cockpit of slave I, at which point, she perks up, bats her eyelashes at him, and goes, “you’d never really kill me would you, jango?” jango quite honestly replies, “only if i had to.” there’s a beat and then zam’s like, “....you’re so sweet! 😘” honestly, they’re so stupid, i love them

ascetic: much like his son, jango doesn’t seem to have much interest in luxury or “the finer things.” despite having enough money to live very comfortably, his apartment on kamino is described as “spartan” in design and furnishing. this may have something to do with the first bullet point, given that a simple life is easier to pack up and take with you at a moment’s notice, but i do think there’s some amount of preference in this lifestyle, given it’s what both fetts seem most comfortable with in all circumstances.

traumatized: i mean, he’s a fett, ain’t he? particularly, just like boba after him, jango is traumatized by the loss of his family, especially his own father figure, jaster mereel. much like boba, jango seems haunted by the need to live up to jaster’s name and legacy. for background, jaster was betrayed and killed in an ambush by the leader of deathwatch, after which he passed on the title of mand’alor to jango. however, some time after this, the true mandalorians led by jango were wiped out by a combination of death watch and the jedi, with jango himself being stripped of his armor and sold as a slave. after this point, jango does not seem to see himself as worthy of jaster’s legacy and thus attempts to pass it on to his son, resulting in the high and narrow expectations he sets for boba as mentioned in bullet point #3. boba himself concludes as much as an adult. on top of the trauma of losing his family, jango also seems to have been traumatized by his time as a slave. most notably, when he’s being tortured after being captured by target komari vosa, he at first remains fairly stoic, even as she starts to mutilate his face. it isn’t until she mentions enslaving him that he seems to panic, struggling desperately to get away. vosa even laughs and says that she must have touched a nerve with her comment. basically: fetts be traumatized :(

soft spot for (some) kids: another thing that’s interesting about jango is that he... usually attempts to do right when kids are involved. i say “usually” bc fat lot of good it did all the cloned children he had a hand in creating >:( but, for example, after killing a runaway clonetrooper as part of a bounty, he finds out that the clone had a son. unwilling to let the child live in poverty due to his own actions, he has regular payments sent to the boy’s mother to help support him. in another instance, jango and zam help deliver an artifact to a client who intends to use it to carry out a terrorist attack on coruscant against millions of civilians. when zam finds out about the client’s intentions, she’s horrified and goes to jango demanding they steal the artifact back. jango completely brushes her off at first, telling her it’s not his problem and that he needs to spend more time with his son. zam coldly asks him how many “sons” he thinks live on coruscant. needless to say, her argument convinces him to join her in stopping the terrorist plot :,)

aaand that’s all i got at the moment! i hope it helps to characterize jango a little bit more!

[buckleyblueyes]

Buddie + 11 or 37? :)

Alright, so this got way too long and kind of...emotional? But I really hope you like it. I went with 37!

Eddie wakes to the sound of clattering from the kitchen and cold sheets where his boyfriend should be. He rolls over and checks the time on his phone. 8 AM. Immediately, he’s frowning. It’s a Sunday morning, they should definitely be sleeping in. Maybe he still can, he thinks, letting his eyes slide shut. Then he hears Christopher’s giggles and he sighs, curiosity getting the better of him. He pushes the covers off, pulls himself out of bed, and shuffles down the hallway.

He expects to see Buck cooking breakfast--probably pancakes, if Chris had anything to say about it--but the scene he walks into is a complete surprise. Buck stands at the counter, pouring over a cookbook with a picture of some very intricately frosted cupcakes on the cover, brow furrowed in concentration. The counter itself is littered with ingredients--flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla, butter, baking powder and baking soda. Chris is standing next to him in an apron that somehow already had flour all over it. There are two cereal bowls in the sink. So. Not breakfast, then.

Chris notices his presence first. “Dad! You’re up!”

Eddie smiles, and leans down to press a kiss to the top of Chris’s head. “Morning, kid.”

Buck’s head snaps up from the cookbook, which he sets down on the counter so he can pull Eddie into a hug, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

“You say that like I slept in.”

Buck chuckles. “I’ve been up since six thirty, babe.”

Eddie groans and leans his head on Buck’s shoulder. “God Why?”

“Because I have a lot to do today,” Buck says simply.

Eddie looks up at him. “A lot of baking, it seems like.”

Buck grins. “You know it.”

“Need any help?” Eddie asks, knowing what the answer is going to be before says it.

Of course, Buck scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don’t trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Chris chirps. “Leave the baking to the professionals.”

Eddie snorts a laugh, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Just let me get some coffee.” He maneuvers around his family to grab a mug from the cupboard. Of course, Buck already has coffee prepared since he’s the only one in the house who actually knows how to work the Hildy machine. Eddie refuses to learn, no matter how good the coffee Buck makes with it is. He fills his mug and heads out of their way, deciding to seat himself at the table where he can watch them.

Buck and Christopher return their focus to the cupcake book.

Buck points to the page. “I think this recipe is a winner, what do you think?”

Christopher nods vigorously. “Yeah!”

Eddie smiles into his coffee. “So, what brought this on?”

“School bake sale,” Christopher responds breezily.

Eddie frowns. He doesn’t remember anything about a bake sale. “You didn’t--”

Christopher rolls his eyes. “I told Buck last week, Dad.”

Eddie turns his gaze on Buck. His blue eyes are wide. “I assumed he already told you. I didn’t mean--”

Eddie shakes his head. “You didn’t overstep, Buck.”

Buck’s shoulders sag in relief.

“We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen,” Eddie shrugs, sipping his coffee. “Chris clearly went to the right par-person for the job.” He just barely stops himself from calling Buck a parent. He knows it’s what he wants, that it’s what Christopher wants, and that it’s the emotional reality for all three of them. But he has a plan to make this all official.

Buck grins. “It’s a charity fundraiser the school is doing to raise money for the ASPCA, so we’re going to frost the cupcakes to look like puppies and kittens.”

“We’re gonna make noses and ears out of candies!” Christopher adds excitedly. “It was Buck’s idea.”

Eddie melts. He looks up at Buck and can’t help beaming at him. “It’s a really good idea.”

Buck flushes slightly. “Thanks.”

“You’re gonna have the best treats there tomorrow, I guarantee it.”

Christopher giggles again. “The bake sale is on Wednesday, Dad.”

Eddie feels his brow crease again. “Then why are you baking today?”

“Practice batch,” Buck says, like it’s obvious. “I’ve never made these particular cupcakes before, nor have I ever frosted cupcakes to look like animals. I’m not sending Christopher to his school bake sale with rough draft cupcakes.”

Eddie shakes his head. He loves how much Buck cares, but multiple batches of cupcakes in a week seems like a dangerous amount of sugar. “Buck.”

“I’ll take the practice batch into the station,” Buck continues, somehow knowing exactly where Eddie was going. “I just want to make a good impression. This is the first time I’ll be baking something for him to take to school, and I know how gossipy PTA moms are.”

“And it’s fun!” Chris adds, smiling.

“And it’s fun,” Buck agrees.

All Eddie can do is stare at Buck for a moment because God he loves this man. This man, who woke up at 6:30 in the morning on his day off to start prepping ingredients for a practice batch of cupcakes for a school bake sale, is almost certainly going to be making the real batch after a 12 hour shift on Tuesday. This man who loves his son so much, exactly the way he deserves to be loved. This man who loves him.

Screw the plan.

“Marry me.” The words fall out of Eddie’s lips before he can stop himself.

Buck freezes.

“Daad!” Christopher whines. “We had a plan!”

“Eddie…” Buck’s voice is thick with emotion.

“I mean it, Buck,” Eddie presses on, unable to go back on his decision now. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to be my husband.”

And Buck is looking at him with such awe and wonder, but he shouldn’t be because this moment was inevitable. “I--”

“You don’t even have the ring, Dad!” Christopher cuts in, tone somewhere in between genuine irritation and sarcastic teasing. “You’re doing a terrible job.”

Buck’s voice cracks. “Ring?”

“Maddie helped me pick it out, it’s in my sock drawer if you want me to go get it,” Eddie explains, starting to get up.

“No.” Buck stops him.

Eddie’s heart clenches. It’s too soon, you’re so stupid, Buck isn’t ready--

Buck seems to sense Eddie’s spiral. “I mean, we can get the ring later. I want you to stay here. Of course I want to marry you.”

Eddie is out of his seat in an instant to kiss his boyf--fiance. It’s a short kiss, because Eddie still has morning breath and Christopher is right there. But it’s sweet and loving and he can feel Buck’s heart beating against his chest.

Christopher is frowning when they pull back, arms crossed. “You ruined it, Dad!”

Buck’s face morphs into one of horrible, confused, devastation, and Eddie can’t stand it.

“Chris, I know this isn’t how we planned to do it,” Eddie starts calmly.

“We don’t have the papers yet!” Chris nearly shouts. “You were supposed to wait until we had the papers!”

Buck blinks once, twice, three times. “What papers?”

Eddie looks at Christopher. “You want to tell him?”

Chris nods, and focuses his attention on Buck. “The adoption papers. Dad was supposed to wait until we got the adoption papers. We’re gonna be a family for real.”

Buck is crying now. “Oh my God.”

“We had a whole plan,” Christopher continues. “But Dad just couldn’t wait.”

“I got caught up in the moment, sue me.”

Buck laughs through his tears. “I already made that mistake. Never again.”

Eddie and Christopher are both quiet for a moment, waiting for Buck to compose himself and speak.

Finally he does. “I love you both so much. Of course I want all of that.” He opens his arms wide, and they both take the hint and fall into his embrace. Eddie smiles, his face pressed against Buck’s shoulder, one arm around Christopher.

“It’s us,” he says, to both of them. “The three of us. Forever.”

Buck says it back, softly. A promise. “Forever.”

[lucy90712]

Wilbur soot- your new boyfriend

we- 2217

A/n I’m really like this one so hope you guys do too

~ Wilbur soot - Your New Boyfriend  (OFFICIAL VIDEO)

10,400,000 views

Wow. That's a hell of a lot of views. My friend Wilbur just realised his new song yesterday and it's doing so well I'm so proud of him, I know he worked really hard on this song and filming the music video which he roped me into helping with. I have listened to it about a million times that I know every chord off by heart even though I don't play music its just ingrained in my head now.

I felt like listening to it when I got up this morning while I brushed my teeth and washed my face so that's what I did. This time I really listened to the lyrics and I really took them in instead of it just becoming a blur and I had a realisation that may be really stupid.

Me and Wilbur have been friends since we were 17 when we went to college and had always kind of flirted with each other because thats just the type of friendship we had, a lot of people thought we were dating but we never officially moved past being friends even though at some points I wanted to. When we finished college we both went to different universities but they weren't far from  one another so we often used to see one another but of course life was different. By different I mean I got a boyfriend which meant that the flirting stopped and the connection between us kind of crumbled but we reconnected a few years later which brings us to pretty recently. Just a few months ago I broke up with the before mentioned boyfriend because he cheated on me and overall became not a great guy.

You see now I have put my brain to listening to lyrics I can't help but wonder even just a little bit if the song is about me. Now I know that sounds very narcissistic and self centred but the story just seems to match so well and yes the song is meant to be comical and satirical but there is something in my brain telling me that there is a slight real life influence there.

Now I'm really nervous because I'm going to Wilbur's place in a few hours and I don't know if I can just forget about this because of course it can be nothing and just a coincidence but that chance that it is something is really bugging me. Wilbur is definitely going to notice if I act weird which is what I'm really worried about because I don't want to have to talk about it.

Another predicament that I have now subjected myself to is the slight feelings I have for Wilbur which feels so wrong because it's not been that long since I broke up with my last boyfriend but I can't help it. Wilbur was there from the moment we broke up and helped me get over it and doing that while we rebuilt our friendship just made our connection grow deeper and give it a new meaning to me. It's not something new either just because if the closeness there was many times in the past that I had feeling for Wilbur but just never did anything about it because I always felt like he never felt the same. Wilbur had always been the first one to say that we weren't dating when people asked or suspected something.

I wanted to look nice for when I went to Wilbur's because most of the time especially recently he has seen me crying or just looking like a mess. I decided to wear my black acid wash mom jeans and a cute crop top that a friend made for me because she loves fashion and felt that I needed a new look after my breakup. To complete the look I even put on a little bit of makeup but not a whole lot because I have never been one to wear loads of makeup and I styled my hair which I may have cut since the last time I saw Wilbur because I felt the need to just get rid of some of it but it was still cute.

It got to 1:30 and I got my shoes on to begin my walk to Wilbur's place which isn't that bad once you get used to it which I am by now but I always have to be listening to something to stop the noise of the traffic driving me crazy. As usual my everyday playlist went on shuffle but of course it had to do me dirty by playing jubilee line which don't get me wrong is a great song and I love it  but right now I don't need to be reminded of the war going on in my brain in fact I'm trying to forget about it until I get there at least. My playlist really was being a bit of a bitch today because every few songs it would play one of Wilbur's songs just after I had forgotten about things from the last song.

By 2pm I was just down the road from Wilbur's house and my hands were starting to get a bit clammy from the nerves building in my body, despite this I had to go in because I did not walk all this way to back out and go all the way back home. I got to the door and rang the doorbell then waiting for a figure to appear and open it, this didn't take long so before I knew it Wilbur was right in front of me giving me a big bear hug which he is so good at.

He welcomed me in and dragged me up the stairs to his bedroom so that we don't annoy his roommates. Like always the two of us sat on the floor because we are just those types of people although it did start when we were in college and we used to do homework and revision together, those were the good old times when we had no issues in our friendship. He grabbed something from under his bed and put it in between the two of us, it was a monopoly board which is just so typical of Wilbur.

"Come on you can't tell me you don't want to play like we used to all the time" he said

"You're right I'm not going to say that so let's bring it on I may have practiced a few times so prepare to lose" I joked

He shook his head at me and we set up the game both prepared to try and absolutely destroy one another. This didn't go to plan because I quickly made some bad decisions which put me in a very bad place to the point that if I were to land on any square that Wilbur owned I would be out the game but I still had hope. I was right to have hope because the game quickly turned around because I made it past go without landing on any of Wilbur's squares however he had didn't have that luck and landed on pretty much every square of mine and having to give me a large chunk of his money. The game soon ended when Wilbur couldn't recover from the hit of the last round and quickly ran out of money and I became victorious.

"Yes I told you I'd been practicing" I said

"What is that the 4th time you've beat me out of all the times we played" Wilbur tormented

"Oh shut up and let me have this" I said

"Ok ok but next time I'm for sure going to beat you" he said

After that we just kind of laid down next to each other looking at the ceiling as it if were the sky Which really reminded me of one of my favourite memories that I have. One night after the both of us had finished our last exams at uni I went to meet Wilbur and we walked around London during the dead of night and then laid down on a grass patch to stare at the starts which were unusually visible for the city sky. Nothing particularly special happened just the thrill of being done with uni and galavanting around the city when it felt like we shouldn't be out made it so memorable.

I was quickly dragged out of my memory when something brushed against my hand and stayed in contact with my pinky finger, I tilted my head to see what was going on which would of been pretty obvious but Wilbur's hand was right next to mine with our pinky's overlapping. This made my heart start thumping and my forgotten thoughts from earlier come to the forefront of my brain yet again. It's the most ridiculous thing that I'm so caught up on it and too scared to say anything out of fear of ruining my reconciled friendship when I know that no matter what I say nothing will change between us because it hasn't before even when we kissed that time.

Flashback

The bottle stopped spinning with one end pointed at me and the other at Wilbur. Oh shit. This can't happen it really can't. What if this changes everything and things become awkward? I can't live without Wilbur I spend all my spare time with him and even time when I should be revising or doing homework.

I'm never going to forgive myself if I do this and it changes our friendship but at the same time I have to do it or that will make me look like a loser and will probably fuel the rumours that the two of us are secretly dating although doing it isn't going to help that much either. I could see the same dilemma going through Wilbur's mind but we gave each other a look and went for it.

The both of us leant in letting our lips meet gently to start with before some of the other guys pushed out heads closer together. I won't lie the kiss was nice and felt like along time coming really with the amount that the two of us harmlessly flirt but it also didn't feel like there was the right meaning behind it. You could tell that we were both worried about changing the friendship and so there was no real meaning behind the kiss.

End of flashback

Now that was a terrifying day. This felt different though there was no one willing us on and there has been no pressure on us to date for years now that it is just natural and not forced which made it feel all the more special. I decided to just go for it and if it goes wrong then oh well at least I tried and can never wonder what my life would be like if I'd of just followed my heart.

I laced our pinky's together fully making sure my grip was tight enough that Wilbur got the message which he responded to quickly by moving his hand out of mine for a split second before grabbing hold of my whole hand and lacing all of our fingers together. He squeezed my hand turning his head to look me directly in the eyes which made my neves spike for a second before I got control again and stared back at him. I couldn't help but let out a small nervous laugh which I noticed causes a small smile on Wilbur's face.

"You know your face is just so pretty" he said

"Is this you trying to say something? I questioned

"Maybe but it depends on if you want to hear it" he said

"I definitely want to hear it" I replied

"Well if it wasn't obvious by now I have some feeling for you and honestly I have on and off for ages but I get if its too soon" he said

"It's not too soon and in fact the timing couldn't be better" I said

We exchange no more words for the time being and instead sat up leaving into kiss each other for the second time in our lives but it was definitely different this time. This time there was true feelings behind it that weren't nerves they were true feelings of adoration and even maybe just a little bit of love but it's too soon to tell that yet. He needed no encourage this time to deepen the kiss instead he put all of his energy into it from the start to show how much he really meant what he was saying. The two of us pulled apart after what felt like an eternity but in reality it was no more than 20 seconds.

"Wow just wow" I said

"That about sums it up" Wilbur said

"I have to ask because its been bugging me is your new boyfriend about me?" I asked

"Yeah it is I'm surprised you didn't realise sooner how may time of you heard it" he joked

"But lets forget that can I be your new boyfriend?" He asked

"Of course you can but you might need to write a new song" I said

[sidespart]

For the fic title thing: Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I’m Falling

Make Up Your Mind (this seriously got away from me and became basically a whole string of conscious fic whoops)

Logince, Bakery/coffeeshop AU Mutual Pining/ Not-Actually-Unrequited love, + loceit friendship

So Janus owns a Bakery (struggling to think of a snake/lie based bread pun for the name but ehh). He is the head only baker and sends most of his time in the basement kitchen blasting the phantom of the opera soundtrack and kneading dough. 

Logan is his childhood friend. Janus hired him as cashier after Logan dropped out of collage but then he never left and is now basically manager/ accountant/ hbic of this whole operation.

So one night as Janus is leaving he’s casually like: ‘oh by the way, a couple are coming by tomorrow for a wedding cake consultation’

And Logan blocks the door and is like: ‘Janus. We don’t do wedding cakes. We don’t even do cake. You only make weird artisanal bread. it took me 6 months and 8 powerpoint presentations to convince you to sell banana loaf’

Jan, his eye enormous: ‘but Logan, you should have heard this guy on the phone. They only want to use LGBTQ businesses for their wedding, they want to support the community that’s supported them for so long. He spoke so passionately and eloquently about why it just had to be us I couldn't say no’

Logan, his eyes not enormous: did you tell this man we make wedding cakes just to make the phone conversation end?

Janus: I was going to miss the murder, she wrote marathon, Logan 

So Jan manages to escape, and Logan rolls his eyes but like. This is nowhere near the worst ‘cleaning up after Janus lied to get out of a situation and made everything more complicated for no goddamm reason’ incident that he has had to deal with during the course of their friendship so, whatever: he can tell the couple there was a miscommunication when they show up in the morning. 

Next day, the guys arrive. Virgil, who barley introduces himself and then stays hunched in his hoodie not speaking for the whole meeting, and Roman. 

Roman does not have a problem speaking. Roman has lots of ideas.

Roman has a binder. 

Somehow in the course of this conversation Logan goes from ‘we don’t make wedding cakes’ to ‘I’LL SHOW YOU, WE’LL MAKE THE BEST GODDAMM WEDDING CAKE THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN’

Maybe it was the passion of Romans argument. Maybe it was the slightly disdainful look on his face when he looked round the shop. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of money he was prepared to pay (see: Janus insists on only making specific, weird bread as to why the shop’s always on the brink of collapse). Maybe it was the power of the binder (Logan is like 80% sure Roman hit him with the binder at one point). Maybe its just Logan hasn't had a full blown passionate argument like that since high school debate club and the rush of adrenaline made him dumb.

Whatever the reason - they’re now fully committed to making this 6 tier, purple and blue, Disney inspired, multiflavoured wedding cake

(Janus, who skipped out on the meeting because he is Like That: But Logan....we don’t make wedding cakes...this was really irresponsible of you...

 Logan: I know where you sleep. I could kill you at any time) 

Which would be doable (the weddings a while off, and Logan is ready to RESEARCH) except Roman keeps. Coming. Back. 

With new ideas. And tweaks. And suggestions. All of them seemingly designed to make the cake less structurally sound. 

Basically every time he comes in they end up having a blazing row, first about Romans inability to make up his mind about the cake and then about...literally everything. One time they spent 25 minuets arguing about whether or not Shakespeare wrote all of his plays, which somehow turns into ‘who was the best host of blues clues?’ which then turned  into ‘how would nationalised healthcare best be implemented?’ (the loudest arguments were during the blues clues section).Logan had even fewer customers then normal that day.

(Logan: I hate that guy so much! He shows up at 2pm every day and now my blood pressure has started going up at 1.55pm in anticipation of the fight! He’s causing me actual medical distress because he’s so stupid!

Janus:...you’ve memorised some guys schedule and your heart starts racing whenever you see him?

Logan: yes! because he is my enemy!

Janus:...

Janus: mmKay.)

ANYway, one day Roman turns up and is like: Can’t fight today. Need caffeine. Must Study. and sequesters himself on one of their two rinky dink tables and starts pulling enormous textbooks out of his bag. Turns out Roman is in law school, he’s back home for the whole summer to help with wedding prep and has been neglecting his summer reading. He wants to be an environmental lawyer and, ideally, singly handily prosecute every oil company and give a speech at the UN whilst wearing an immaculately fitted Italian suit. 

Logan has a panicked moment of OH NO HE’S SMART (he doesn't need an oh no he’s hot moment because Roman’s been hot the whole time). Very carefully he does not think about how upset hearing Roman mention the wedding again made him feel, and then shares a bit about his own anxiety during college which led to him dropping out.

Roman says degree or no degree its obvious Logan is one of the smartest, most capable people Romans ever met.

Cue: blushing, stammering, Logan standing up to quickly and knocking half a pot of coffee over etc etc all that good fluff. 

And after that their conversations are less confrontational (although they still debate like. everything.) and more friendly.

They have one (1) more conversation about the wedding wherein Roman apologises for being so stressed and snappy over all the preparation stuff but he just wants everything to be perfect for Virgil. (Logan, awkwardly: you must love him a lot. Roman, himbo-ly: Yeah!) aaand then Logan changes the subject to the best rhyming structure because Romans big sappy grin is making his heart do awful twisty things-

And eventually, Roman asks Logan to go out with him outside the bakery.

Logan: hahaha this is friendship, we are great friends, we are going out as friends. I am not going on a date with a man with a fiancé because that would be the actions of a crazy person.

 So they go on their date. It’s amazing. Roman leans in for a kiss at the end and Logan is delighted!

And then devastated.

He pushes Roman away, yells some creative insult (malodorous centurion?) and flees. Spends the next week basically hiding in the kitchen area, refusing to see any customers and working on the wedding cake.

(which is looking perfect by the way)

So after a week of Logan moping round the kitchen Janus finally blocks the door to stop him leaving and demand he tells him what the hell is wrong. And after a few minuets of filibustering Logan ends up telling him everything.

“In any case, the very fact that he is the kind of man who would cheat on his fiancé means he’s not the kind of man I thought he was. Therefore any alleged feelings I may have developed towards him would now be null and void” says Logan, looking like the worlds sadist accountant

Janus: So...wait. You’re saying wedding cake guy and hot lawyer guy are the same person?

(Logan: you need to come out of the basement more often Janus: YOU need to tell me what’s going on in your life more often. (they have had this conversation many times in the past))

So Janus sincerely tells Logan he’s sorry...and that he’s even more sorry that he needs him to help him deliver the cake to the venue tomorrow.

(this thing is way to big for one person to carry and there’s no way Jan would trust any of their occasional teenage cover staff to do this and ‘we’ll go round the back and you wont have to see anyone anyway comon Lo’ you basically built this monstrosity you should see it home)

So, reluctantly, Logan goes. And they go round the back as promised, and get this enormous cake settled, and then get told to wait there one sec cus one of the grooms is going to come sign for it and before Logan can throw himself out of the widow (get OFF me Janus we’re on the ground floor it’s FINE)  from behind them they hear squeeing.

There’s a curly haired dude in a pastel blue linen suit who Logan has never seen before in his life looking at the cake and cooing over ‘all the little details! its perfect! oh Virgil is going to love this! You know he was so embarrassed about asking for a Disney themed cake he had to ask Roman to go with him to -”

“Who ARE you?”

The man blinked at Logan, who realised dimly that he still had one foot up on the windowsill and slowly returned it to the floor. 

“I’m Patton” said Patton.

“And I’m Janus” said Janus, removing his arms from where they’d still been clamped around Logan’s waist and stepping smoothly towards Patton, clipboard held aloft “A pleasure to meet you, if you could just sign here...”

“BUT-” Patton paused, hand still raised to accept the clipboard, and looked over again at Logan who found himself mumbling:  “but - but the groom is supposed to sign for it?”

And Patton just smiled at him looking a bit bemused and goes ‘I am the groom? And who are you kiddo?”

Logan says he’s Logan. Patton suddenly looks a whole lot less friendly. 

“Oh.” says Patton. “You.”

And since Logan’s mind is currently refusing to take in the information in front of him Janus is the one who ends up stepping in between them and going “so just for 100% transparency - you are Patton. 

“yes?”

“and today you are marrying the love of your life: Virgil?”

“Yes!”

“And are either of you, at any point today, also planning on marrying one Roman Sanders, caffeine addict and terrible communicator?”

And Paton burst out laughing and says “ROMAN? Virgil’s big brother Roman? He’s my best man but I don’t think we’re planning to take it any further...”. And because Patton is apparently much quicker on the emotional uptake than Logan he gives him a vey soft, if slightly exasperated, look and says:

“Roman - who again, is my future brother-in-law- is helping set up in the main hall.”

And Logan likes to think he said thank you before he took off fucking RUNNING through the building but he can’t be sure.

So he gets to the hall, where a load of people are setting out chairs, putting up flowers etc,  and skids to a stop at one end of the aisle. Shouts: “ROMAN.” (Roman and Virgil, who were standing at the other end arguing over a flower arrangements, both look up) “YOU’RE NOT MARRYING YOUR BROTHER.”

“um.” Says Roman “No?”

Explanations are given. Virgil, who is a lot more talkative now that he’s not on 7th wedding appointment of the day burn out, is ready to physically fight Logan for breaking his brothers heart. And then once he understands the full story is ready to kill both of them for being such dumbasses.

Roman: But I s2g I told the guy on the phone that it was the groom and best man coming??? Logan: Yeah he might have lied and said you were a couple for a joke, or he may have just straight up not listened to you. Either way, he is just Like That.

Logan: WHY DID YOU NEVER MENTION VIRGIL WAS YOUR BORTHER?? Roman: I WAS TRYING TO GET TO KNOW YOU AND ALSO SEDUCE YOU WHY WOULD I WASTE TIME TALKING ABOUT MY LITTLE BROTHER??? Virgil: Yeah...he does like talking about himself, sorry he’s just  Like That.

Anyway it all ends fluffily, Patton and Virgil get married. Roman cries. Logan and Jan hang around for the wedding. Roman and Logan hold hands throughout the speeches and dance during the reception. Roman has to go back to law school soon but they agree to call each other every day at 2pm to catch up and argue. 

Janus gets off with the moustachioed DJ. 

And Roman and Logan get another chance at their first kiss.

[seychellse]

The Lazarus project

this was meant to be my Halloween piece but as usual I am late. it's still technically spooky season until the end of the 2nd but I had to change all mentions of the 31st so I wouldn't embarrass myself :-((

warnings: not sfw! magic & necromancy, mentions of stitches, mentions of blood, homeopathy, monsterfucking (?????? he's dead. he's a corpse. but he is alive - sort of - and capable of speech and complex thought. decide for yourself whether that counts or not)

pairing: Marco Bott x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

All Hallow’s season. The short period of the year where spirits ran loose, and the world between the living and the dead thinned long enough for either side to reach out to the other. Night swept over the afternoon sky almost as soon as schooldays came to an end – many children were already out gathering their treats, painted faces and linen wrappings aplenty as they went door-to-door panhandling, gleefully breaking the golden rule of never accepting candies from strangers.

Others were less interested in the physical aspects of spooky season, leaning heavily into the darker aspects of the holiday. Irreverent, careless teens coming together to sequester themselves away in attics or basements with the lights out and a selection of dollar-store candles surrounding them, enticing the denizens of the metaphysical world to bless them, commune with the dead or just provide a good scare.

You scoffed. Amateurs. The only thing they were good for were asking inane questions about your various herbs and spices and spending insane amounts of dough on anything you could pitch as vaguely homeopathic or occult-touched. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Magic wasn’t something that could simply be bought – but of course few were serious enough about the craft to care about that.

All those idiots wasting their money for cheap thrills with no actual output – children casting two-line spells on their teddy bears for fun had more power than the casuists who attempted to meddle with forces they didn’t understand. Ouija and divining boards were a crock of shit in the wrong hands; more so for those who had no prior links to the spirit world or anchors to guide them there.

But that was none of your business. You smirked; smugness overtaking you as you sipped your cinnamon-spiced tea in preparation for your own ritual. The smooth taste cancelled out the earlier bitter flavour of the maca root you had chewed earlier, absorbing into your bloodstream easily and mingling with your innate magical capability – but the wave of nausea that followed forced you to take deep breaths, your brow furrowing as you popped a spring of motherwort into your mouth to ease it and prepared a second tincture you hoped would have a better flavour profile once administered. You didn’t dare to upset the careful herbal balance required for your spell, and besides, you would be in for a lot worse later if your spell succeeded. Best to get it over with now.

A ritual in three parts – and as with all first steps, the most difficult. The following ones would be easier. Checking everything was in place, you rubbed your vial necklace and murmured a simple blessing. Now or never. You abandoned the empty mug, steeled your twisting stomach, and moved to your storage room, where in the middle laid a body, still as a statue and dead to the world.

You didn’t need fancy accoutrements or so-called spiritualist aids to perform your rites, having the most important things none of the young upstarts disturbing your peace and causing a ruckus earlier in the day could ever hope to have; an affinity to the natural world, a tether in both planes and most importantly: actual intent to see your work through.

Your gaze softened as you knelt beside the cadaver, lovingly cleaned and magically preserved for so many years. Slightly uneven stitches littered a strong torso, travelling upwards across his right arm all the way to a handsome face. You cringed at an unfinished final stitch partially hidden by dark bangs, searing away the loose thread and berating yourself for the incomplete job. Magic tended to get a little… wonky when applied to the dead, so most of your internal work had to be done by hand, but that only meant small details often went overlooked. That wouldn’t do – everything had to be perfect. Despite your oversight, the body was nonetheless in fantastic condition – much better than would be expected of a nine-year-old corpse.

Without blood, the skin was hardened, cool and pallid, but it brought you no end of joy noticing that the greyish tone regular cadavers suffered from at least hadn’t blighted yours. The smell of dried flowers and carefully-tied ginkgo and goatweed bundles sewn into your project’s mouth and abdomen did a lot of heavy lifting to mask the lingering scent of decay, but the small deposits of grave wax behind the ears and knees served as a reminder that all your toils weren’t yet over. The vast majority of each year went into preparing this body for your ritual, and you performed your duties with the utmost care, a labour of love in the truest sense – but you needed to work a little faster. The clock you raced against ticked slowly, but even you could only prolong the inevitable for so long.

He’s been getting stronger, you mused, and so have I. This will work, I know it will.

Sweeping your hands over the sutured figure, you allowed a miniscule amount of magic to flow from your palms into the cold flesh beneath it. The room was quiet, and your expression was concentrated as small, translucent tendrils rose from the ground and encased the body. Satisfied with the progress, you pulled back your hands to reach for your ceremonial knife, digging it into your fingertips and tapping the head, chest and groin in rapid succession. From there, your smeared blood did the rest, absorbed and spread into cells that pulsed with pseudo-life.

“I open the channel between worlds, for the soul I seek. Spirit who once owned this body, rise true from the cool ocean of death and return to your mortal form. I make my plea, and I will serve as your guide. Follow my voice; follow my voice, follow my voice.” Even after so many years of repeated use, the spell still felt so clunky in your mouth, stoppering your jaw like a too-large chunk of food you could neither swallow nor spit out. Still, you persisted, repeating your mantra twice more and tapping the blood-smeared organs once more with extra vigour, pleased as the liquid smears dissolved and added a dash of pink to a previously bloodless frame.

A whisper so quiet it almost went unheard lodged itself in your skull, an arcane promise that you grasped and repeated, three times in response.

I shall, I shall, I shall.

The call from beyond, answered by the one you sought. Your vision blurred as an unnatural wind started to swirl around you, lifting the corners of your dress and ruffling the layers of your hair. The pendant around your neck began to shimmer, blocking out any malicious shades attracted to your call and paving an ethereal path for the one whose presence you desired. Focusing all your power on truesight, your eyelids fluttered shut and remained so until the gentle light emanating from your necklace grew in size and pierced your darkened vision.

An exaggerated yawn, swallowing sound and sounds of movement titled your lips upwards just the slightest amount, but you kept your eyes firmly shut until the brightness dimmed and the preternatural wind died back down.

“Hello, love.”

The smile on your face broadened, threatening to overtake your features entirely as you finally laid eyes on the corporeal form of your late lover, already upright and shaking off the stiffness in his joints as he acclimated to his old body and experienced the drawbacks of it having fallen to disuse for an entire year. The gossamer threads that previously surrounded his body had fallen away, deteriorating into faint glimmers of light and dust and highlighting the features you loved so dearly.

In the flesh, he was as beautiful as he had ever been, save for the supernatural paleness and the spidery lines of your inexpert suturing marring his freckled face. He didn’t seem bothered or pained by the seams holding him together, a good sign that made your heart leap with hope. Instead, Marco simply admired the open-chested cotton shirt and loose pants you had dressed him in for the occasion. He looked like your own little Frankenstein’s monster sans all the nuts and bolts, perfect for the season if any nosy busybody were to peek in on your joyful reunion and start asking difficult questions.

“Took you long enough. Get lost on the way here?”

His eyes sparkled and he brushed down his attire, leaning in closely enough for his nose to bump into yours. “As if. I was having a lovely rest before you yanked me back into my body, actually. It happened so fast, too – how’d you do it this time?”

You gave him a little butterfly kiss, absorbing the scent of fresh rainwater and damp earth that always seemed to accompany him; the familiarity of decay that you had come to associate with the man you loved so deeply. “Accidental shipment of monarda didyma for the apothecary. It’ll be annoying to be out of mandrake for a week, but it’s so worth it. You didn’t even need my help to move around this time.”

“Yeah. My body feels… different, this year. Stronger.”

Music to your ears. Getting used to a physical form, even one previously inhabited by the soul, was a gruelling process that tended to get harder the longer time was spent outside one. Your grin couldn’t have grown any wider as he stretched out again, the pop of joints cracking cutting through the little stockroom’s relative silence. You marvelled at his lean form and easy confidence, so familiar and yet so foreign at the same time.

“That’ll be my blood’s doing. I amplified it with a potion, but it won’t last on its own.” The squirrelled away tincture was brought out and you pressed it into his hands expectantly. “Drink this, quickly.”

He followed your instruction and swallowed the contents of the phial in three gulps, as obedient in undeath as he had been in life. Counting down from a hundred, you watched keenly as Marco’s limbs flexed, your offered blood marking its way across a network of empty veins and sparking a minimal amount of colour into blanched skin, the transfusion working quicker than expected.

A breath you hadn’t realised you were holding escaped as your internal count reached zero, the herb mixtures tingling unpleasantly in your stomach once more as you drew closer and felt the mana in your blood vessels call out to its brethren.

“That was pretty good. What was in it?”

“Just some common herbs to increase your potency.” The proportioned mix served as a conduit for strengthening his failing body and keeping his soul contained until you released your incantation and spoke the words that would set him free for another year. Even for a practitioner of your calibre, you knew better than to mess with the forces controlling the unseen world more than was necessary. You knew you only had a few hours with him at best, and you were anxious to make them count.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you leaned in to kiss him, unsubtly pressing your body to his and grinding down as you did so. The taste of ginseng and basil lingered on Marco’s tongue; you would have licked your lips if your own organ wasn’t tangled with his. He moaned appreciatively, pulling you down underneath him and pulling apart the tied ribbons on your specially-chosen robes to reveal your bare body underneath.

“No underwear? Is this Halloween or Christmas?” He teased, flicking a nipple and admiring the way it budded under his touch.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, propping yourself up on your elbows to kiss him again and melt into his chilling grasp, the vestments falling from you as you did so, “didn’t want to waste time getting undressed. We don’t have any time to waste; my blood won’t keep you mobile forever.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining! Makes it easier for both of us.” Marco’s hands ran up and down your sides, indulgent even as he gripped your plush thighs and brought your lower half up to his mouth, whistling in appreciation at your waiting, dripping entrance. “God, I missed this.” The shock of his fingers’ lack of warmth made you gasp as they trailed across your labia and massaged the lips gently, before pushing inside impatiently.

His tongue soon joined the mix, surprisingly warm as it followed the same patterns his fingers had left imprints on and moved upwards to swirl around your clit as his fingers stroked you with rhythmic intent. Your hips bucked as his fingers curled, moaning shamelessly into the empty night as his mouth closed entirely around your nub and he picked up the pace at your encouragement.

The storage cupboard where you held your herbs and spices may not have been the most romantic of places to copulate with your long-dead lover, but you couldn’t care less as you melted under Marco’s assault and feverish tongue. You cherished these nights for being able to feel more than the ghostly touch of your lover, to reach an orgasm not prompted by your own hand, to give pleasure just as you received it. But you needed more.

You pushed Marco away, breathing heavily as his fingers withdrew and he looked up at you in surprise. His lips shone with your juices, and you pulled yourself up slightly to taste yourself on him with darkened eyes. His eyes widened, but he let you do as you pleased as you felt his hardened length drag along your thigh.

“You alright?” Marco didn’t need to breathe, but thanks to your blood, his body imitated your own mannerisms and reacted to your shuddering body of its own accord. The room had heated significantly, and you felt your back sweat as you tried to regain your senses.

“Fine. I’m fine, I just– this is the furthest we’ve ever gotten before. Wanna feel you inside me.”

Try as you might, you’d never been able to constrain Marco’s soul within his corpse for long enough to do anything more than mutual masturbation, but boosted by power-enhancing herbs and blood magic, you were determined to finally overcome that hurdle. He didn’t argue; escaping from your ironclad clasp to shed his own clothes and kneel between your legs. He kissed you, needier this time, and curled around you, lining his cock up to your entrance with a flourish, eyes widening at the wetness that already coated his tip. Without a moment’s hesitation, he slid in easily, hissing at your tight warmth and pulsating walls, and dropped down on top of you like he couldn’t get enough of your proximity. You couldn’t blame him – you were the same.

“Feels good,” he grunted, voice like bass against your throat, “feels so good.”

His hips snapped up into yours, a hand slithering down your belly to flick at your clit, and all you could feel was him, thrusting in and out and vibrating against you with an assortment of deep sounds and pants. Marco’s face contorted in concentration, his flared nostrils and reddened cheeks a perfect imitation of life above you. If you pretended hard enough, you could almost convince yourself that you were two lovers just going about your business as usual, rather than a practitioner employing necromantic tactics to fuck your dead boyfriend in his long-dead corpse. Your hands came to cup his face in wonderment and love, eyes watering even as your legs lifted to wrap around his waist and pull him impossibly close. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter. You would have him back, soon enough. You would.

“Need you, need to feel you. Please, Marco.”

His thrusts increased in speed. “Don’t have to tell me twice, love. This is the only time in the year where I get to have you the way I want you. I won’t waste this opportunity.”

If you didn’t have dozens of protective spells placed around your store, you might have wondered if a demon had possessed your lover’s body and not Marco himself. His eyes glazed over as he focused on rutting you, one hand searing into your hip to keep you fixed in place as he pounded you over and over again. Your robe dangled underneath you as a makeshift blanket, protecting you from the worst of the uneven wood floors, but your back rubbed deliciously against polished grooves nonetheless and made you delirious with pleasure as you let Marco have his way with you the way he was only sanctioned to do once a year.

Your throat was dry as you croaked out your final request. “Marco… I’m gonna- wanna—”

“Me too. Fuck!”

Nothing more needed to be said. Angling you upwards, his thumb pressed down hard on your clit as you shook and came apart on his dick, whining and whimpering with your forehead pressed to his. It was enough, more than enough. Marco kept rolling his hips into yours to drag out your orgasm, until the pressure became too much for him and he shuddered, coming with a cry and a final thrust, before spilling into you and collapsing into your shaky arms. He didn’t pull out until he was fully spent, the sticky mixture of your fluids coating the both of you as you laid on the ground and caught your breath. You noted with exhilaration that he was warm to the touch, but whether it was from his exertions or from the magic getting to work in his body, you couldn’t tell.

Either way, you didn’t let go of him, even as he sat you upright and redressed you, and you wished this moment could last forever.

But all good things came to an end eventually, and the euphoria faded as you prepared the sealing spell as the final part of your ritual. You steeled yourself, but the words on your lips disintegrated the moment you looked up into the honey brown eyes you so rarely got to enjoy. Eyes crystallising, you bit your lip and whispered your final plea.

“I bless the soul I brought forth and release him from the mortal coil, back to eternal rest. May the spirits guide him home.”

This was the worst part; feeling the residual warmth, artificial as it was, drain from your lover’s body as it reverted to its lifeless state. You squeezed your eyes shut as a minute passed, and then another, the weight around you never dissipating, the magic in the air remaining undisturbed. You’d petitioned the spirit guides to carry Marco’s soul safely back to the astral planes, but his body still held yours, not the other way around. Maybe you’d finally done it right, this time.

Sensing your relief, Marco pressed an affectionate kiss to your temple, shuffling in closer as your arms swept in and wrapped around his neck. His scarred arm patted yours, the motions more fluid than expected but still not quite human.

“Guess the powers that be decided to give us a little extra time for pillow talk.”

You blinked back tears. “Thank goodness for that. I missed you so much. I always do.”

He laughed a little, stroking your hair with all the tenderness of a long-lost lover doomed to ghostly caresses and endless amounts of longing. “It’s only been a year.”

“A year without you! We get a little more time together each time, but it’s just never enough.” You sighed, lower lip trembling as you clutched him tighter.

His petting never stopped, providing a much-needed source of comfort that you couldn’t get enough of. “Have some faith in yourself; everything feels different. That’s got to be a good sign, right?”

In a way, he wasn’t wrong – everything was different. He wasn’t exactly normal; his skin a little too cool, a little too pale. The medical-grade sutures detailing half his body could be explained away, but the ever-present and sickly smell of rot despite your dutiful applications of oils and perfumes or his entirely bloodless nature, less so.

But none of that mattered; you were already leagues ahead of your previous attempts to bring him back. Up until your sixth attempt at communication, you hadn’t even been able to touch him, much less bring him to a state of quasi-life where you could spend an actual night in his arms.

Marco may not have been living, but he was here, present and tangible, and that made everything else insignificant in comparison.

You’d waited all these years trying to bring him back; what was one more, once you had a proper lifetime within your grasp? Swallowing down the pit of anxiety in your belly and simply passing it off as the maca root making its way out of your system, you laid down beside your phantasmal lover and held him tight, terrified that if you let him go even for a moment, he would retreat back into incorporeality and become out of reach until the next autumn festival. You had to have faith – you’d played your part, and now it was up to Nature to do the rest.

Seemed like your calls had been answered when you woke up the next morning dwarfed by a still-warm body enveloping your own. Blinking in drowsy confusion, your senses must have temporarily failed you as your disbelieving eyes scanned a face free of the jagged black threads so glaringly present only some few hours before. Without the ugly stitches in the way, before you was Marco’s beautiful, unblemished visage – his freckles ever prominent across his nose and cheeks, redder than you remembered. Soft exhalations left his mouth, still wrapped up in the binds of sleep and blissfully aware of your functional meltdown at your newfound discovery. His somnolent state barely registered in your mind, only that he was still here in your world, and more importantly – that he was breathing. Even only half-awake, there was no way you could be imagining it.

Your hands trembled as they ventured down from his broad shoulders to the centre of his chest, breath hitching when you felt the rise and fall of his chest. Your heart almost stopped once you confirmed the steady beat of his under your hesitant touch. Flesh, blood and bone, knit together in a miraculous display of life. Marco was actually, truly alive again. A deep sigh escaped your quivering lips, but whether it was one of relief, joy or incredulity, you couldn’t be sure – maybe it was all three at once.

Your Marco, freed at last. Brought back where he belonged. Your lethargy all but forgotten, hands flew to your stomach, your heart fluttering erratically as the realisation of your ritual’s success dawned on you.

Almost all of the herbs you had prepared promised increased physical and magical power, but secondary effects also included marked increases to feracity, something you hadn’t even considered when preparing the effects for your ceremony.

Natural laws weren’t nearly so inflexible as people tended to believe – life didn’t have to be substituted for another life if a soul could be supplanted and revived in a viable host. That was the main reason why you had procured and conserved Marco’s corpse so meticulously.

The only snag in your plan was finding a way to forge a bond strong enough to anchor his soul until it was strong enough to stand on its own in the land of the living. Your original objective had been to bond him to yourself using his temporary, subsistent form, and the potions you had administered had been to strengthen your body in order to host a second soul alongside your own until that occurred.

But with Marco’s spirit securely fastened already within his own form, there was no doubt that something else had taken the opportunity to insert itself in the empty space, providing the much-needed bedrock to prevent Marco from slipping away. What better anchor to keep him with you than a child created from his own essence?

The world spun, your tired mind spiralling the moment you put the pieces together. You had never been one to go against the natural world, but especially not now when there was so much for you to gain. For nearly a decade, there had only been two constants in you and Marco, and you had worked with that in mind; but thanks to your accidental fertility-accelerating potions, it seemed that baby was set to make for a third. The rule of three; just as Nature had always intended.

[rootin-tootin-cum-shootin]

Dating Headcanons for Aomine and Kagami

In honour of my dear friend Jackie @todorokibois​ finishing her rewatch of Kuroko no Basket, and the accompanying Ace Brainrot she has as a result, I have made this. Is it stupid long? Yes. Did I have fun making it? Yep! Am I going to have her screaming at me tomorrow? Absolutely! Anyway! Enjoy this monster of a headcanon folks!

Aomine Daiki x gn!reader x Kagami Taiga

Wordcount: 2,540

Kinda an awkward fellow at first

He has the emotional awareness of a brick wall so he's not exactly the most in tune with his or others feelings

It would take quite a bit for him to even realize he has feelings for you

Oh man but once he does?

All those feelings he was denying or ignoring hit him hard and all at once

As if Daiki got hit by a bus (a bus made of feelings)

Once he has acknowledged that he likes you

Well, then he gets a little more awkward

Because he has no real clue what he is doing

He has asked Momoi about what he should do, considering she's the more emotionally aware one of the pair

But her suggestions largely consist of classic and almost stereotypical wooing gestures

So with her generic advice in mind

He will buy you flowers and ask you if you would meet him for coffee at "that one place you say you like"

(Like he totally doesn't remember the exact name, location and your regular order after you mentioned it a couple times)

Once you'd get there he would have your drink already ordered, with a nice snack for you there too

And as you sit down to chat and eat, he would hand you a nice bouquet of your favourite flowers

And ask you if you would like to go on a date with him sometime

If you don’t want to see a flustered Daiki, don't mention how this meetup for coffee could be a date.

He will have steam coming out of his ears, because he will internally malfunction.

Daiki will actually be genuinely suave once he figures out he doesn't need to be so performative all the time

You like him for him, not because he acts like a character from a shojo

Honestly there's nothing he enjoys more in this relationship then getting to see you smile

Listens to you so well, he is always attuned to you.

He will play every gift he gives you off as if he didn't remember you talk about how much you loved that piece jewellery because it reminded you of something a character wore in a few episodes of your favourite childhood cartoon one time 2 months ago

And he definitely didn't pick up extra jobs in order to get the cash to pay for it

No way, it was completely a coincidence.

As you may have guessed, the ever blunt and arrogant Aomine Daiki's love language is gift giving

He just wants to see you smile

And if making or buying you a little trinket just because it reminded him of you will do that then so be it

Daiki would honestly pay any amount of money or spend any amount of time if it meant he could make sure you felt loved

Dates are often spent with the two of you just chilling around the house

Netflix and take out on the couch while you wear your PJs? His favourite way to spend a Friday off

Dates where he tries to make you dinner from scratch? Yes please, he wants to impress you through your taste buds. (Which doesn't always work the way he wants)

But he does love to take you out for lunch or dinner

He will offer to pay for everything anytime you go out

Speaking of paying even if you insist on going Dutch

He is absolutely going to attempt to pay before you can even get your wallet out

It honestly becomes a game for you two to see who can pay for dinner first.

The only time he actually lets you pay on a date if say you're going to be driving some distance for a special date

Then he's chill if you pay for the snacks while he pumps gas on your way to that festival in the next city over you both wanted to attend.

He tries so hard to be a gentleman around you

You make him more humble, and he wants to be the best version of himself possible for you. Because you make him want to put in the effort to better himself.

But all that goes out the window the moment you attend one if his games

Then his usual attitude gets even worse, he becomes an actual monster when he plays on the days you watch

The pride he feels when winks at you as he scores the final basket of the games.

Its subtle but its his way of saying "See that babe? That was for you"

This man also lives for post games smooches

His team hates it (they're jealous because you two are so damn cute)

But he will always press his forehead to yours, and ask breathlessly if he can kiss you

Once you say yes, he leans in slow and with a ghost of an I love you resting on his tongue shows you just how he feels

His hands steady on your waist, holding you close as his lips press against yours and takes your breath away. The way you some how always manage to take his away every time he looks at you

When he pulls away for a breath, your noses touching, your lips still millimeters apart, he will tell you that he loves you

All in all, he may not know exactly what he's doing, but man is Aomine Daiki in deep. He wants nothing more than to be the light in your life that you've become for him. Please take care of this Ace's heart, he's trying his best for you.

Taiga is genuinely intense when he likes you

To the point where the moment he knows he likes you, you know too

Now to other people they may think its embarrassing, but he honestly doesn't care

Once Taiga's sure of his feelings for you the man could care less if other people knew

Because why should he hide away how he feels for the sake of other people

Arm wrapped around your shoulder as you walk beside him

Always offering to help you out even if it makes him go far out of his way

Actually telling you straight to your face that he's doing all these things because he has feelings for you and wants you to reciprocate them

Taiga really can be a tactless dumbass sometimes but, hey at least its cute how he's trying to woo you

He wouldn't immediately ask you out though

No he saves that for when he's sure you reciprocate those feelings

Because let's face it, if Taiga likes you, you're most likely already his friend

So when he attempts to pursue you romantically, it is literally everything you could want

He'd honestly know just how to not only fulfill the things he knows you want and even daydreamer about having in a partner while still making it genuine to who he is as a person

Now his love language is absolutely Quality time

So when you two are hanging out together, you have his undivided attention

Taiga honestly would schedule time in his training regiment's schedule when he's preparing for tournaments

Even if its just a 30 minute phone call

He sticks to it

And when you do start dating, he ensures that you go out on a date once every two weeks, minimum

Stay in dates are accepted and appreciated

In fact it was on one of those stay in dates where he asked you to be his significant other

He also texts you quite a bit

Even if its just to say "I know you're busy but make sure you remember to stay hydrated"

Or to send you a cute picture of #2

When you do go out, its usually to do some fun or spontaneous event

A pottery class? Sure why not

Rock climbing at a gym? Let's try it out, maybe you'll even catch each other falling so you can make a corny ass joke

A Tango class? Why not! It could even help with his footwork in basketball

Taiga just wants to spend time with you so he s down to try anything you want at least once

So as long as you're excited for it he'd be happy to accompany you

Even if its just to go get groceries.

He's not terribly jealous by himself, but sometimes if you're out on a date and he's feeling like he hasn't seen you enough in recent weeks

He might steal your attention back from whomever you were speaking with.

Will take you to professional level basketball games

Heck one time you two went to see the Harlem Globetrotters and it was one of the best nights of his life

The both of you were amazed by the tricks and laughing along with the jokes.

You both even got a signed ball after one of trick shots ricocheted off the rim of the basket hit him on the head.

You two have a custody agreement for that ball by the way

But hey that was the risk of sitting court side, and at least it was a great memory

By the time you two left the gym, your cheeks hurt from smiling so widely

And as you two discussed the event as you walked back to his car, the streetlights hitting your face just right

In that moment he realized that he was absolutely and intensely in love with you.

It was honestly really sweet. But did he tell you how he was feeling? N o p e

But speaking of basketball

You are invited to every single one of his games

He wouldn't be mad if you couldn't come to every one, but he hopes that you would come support him at his big tournament games

On the days you go, he plays about 1000 times better

Riko loves those days because he listens to her and the Hyuga when they propose strategies without complaint

She especially likes it because he never loses when you show up

Yes she does ask you to go to every game and practice Seirin has.

And after every game, he takes you out for dinner. Even if its just at a 24 hour fast food joint. You two share a meal after each and every game you attend

He honestly looks forward to those times more than the actual games sometimes

Taiga isn't the type for extreme PDA but you bet your ass he loves to kiss you

No matter where you are, if you’re out together, he's giving you kisses

His hands resting on your cheeks, delicately stroking your skin with his thumbs

As he tenderly presses his lips to yours, passion and adoration oozing from his kiss

Because even though he has a hard time saying how much he loves you

The emotions he can't quite find the right words to say all come through with every press of his lips against your skin

All in all, dating Taiga would be fantastic, he's caring, considerate and always confident in both you and the relationship.

Now let's start off by saying Taiga becomes so much more jealous when he realizes Daiki is also pursuing you

The pair immediately turn it into a competition

If one of them buys you lunch, the next day the other is taking you for an expensive dinner

Taiga asking you to go to one of his games again? Sorry Daiki already asked you to go to his on that day

Daiki asking if you wanted to watch a movie at his place? Nope! Taiga bought & gifted you tickets for the concert your favourite band was putting on and had asked you to go with him months ago

Lord help you if they're playing against each other

Both will show off to the point its detrimental to their teams

You thought they were intense before? HAH! The tension between them is almost crushingly heavy now

(There's a reason for that) They bet that whoever won would be the only one to take you out for a month and the other person can't even ask.

Yes that bet is dumb

Yes their coaches kicked their asses for how they're behaving

After that they realize that maybe they shouldn't fight over you like you were a prize to be won

Because they both notice how much seeing each other fight like that hurts not just their relationships with you

But how it hurts, you in general

So with heavy and begrudging hearts they set their romantic rivalry aside

And come to you hearts in their hands and ask you if you'd give them both a chance

Because they recognize that at this point, if you haven't picked one of them

You probably aren't going to choose just one of them

And they would be damned if you chose to just walk away because of how they were acting

So after some explanations of their jealousy towards the other boy on their parts

And you willing to forgive their weirdness

You are now the happy owner of not one puppy of an Ace as a boyfriend.

But two doting Ace boyfriends!

Their individual relationships with you are mostly the same as above

But there are a few throuple dates, where you all go do something together

Heck sometimes the boys will do something without you and have little boys dates

By god can they be protective of you

Creepy old man staring at you? Taiga and Daiki are already glaring at him like nobody's business

Getting hit on and are uncomfortable? Daiki is dragging the person outside to beat the shit out of them while Taiga makes sure you're okay and feeling safe

They actually make a great team in terms of the relationship. Working in tandem to make sure you're happy, healthy, safe and feeling loved

The cuddle piles you find yourself in, are exquisite

Your back smooshed against Taiga's chest and Daiki's head resting on the top of your head while he holds you tightly

Who needs a blanket anymore? Certainly not you my dear, you have two very hot Aces to keep you warm now!

And you bet your ass those two will eventually end up kissing each other

Because well their competitive spirit towards each other never truly went away

Now their competitions look more like "who can kiss our significant other more"

(BTW the score for that one is Daiki III Taiga II, because Taiga fell asleep 3 hours before you and Daiki did the last time they played that game. Taiga still hasn't forgiven his brain for that)

The boys eventually come to terms with the fact that they think the other is hot, and sometimes (ie. Most times) they want to kiss.

They will absolutely deny it if asked by anyone but you. Because they don't mind you seeing them smooch, because then you may join them in the makeout session.

They may say they're as straight as an arrow, but every arrow has some flexibility to it under the right circumstances.

All in all its actually a really healthy poly relationship, once they get their heads out of their own butts that is