#I plan on doing a little series about this
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[17.2k] nico hischier didn't expect to go first overall. he didn't expect to become captain of the new jersey devils. he didn't expect to become a dad to twins. and he certainly didn't expect to fall in love with the twins' nanny.
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Becoming a father was one of the best things that ever happened to Nico Hischier.
It was one of those things that he always knew would happen in his life, something that fit with his other aspirations. It wasn’t like hockey. Not when the chances of him going first overall and becoming captain and leading his team to playoffs seemed like a series of right choices made to go down the right path.
Becoming a father was something he kind of expected to happen in his life one day, one of those things he always saw in his future but never thought too hard about.
He just never expected it to happen the way it did.
If he was being completely honest, he assumed somewhere amongst the hectic life of being a NHL player, he would meet someone and they would fall in love and all the milestones would be reached together: anniversaries, marriage, children. It was a sweet fantasy many people had and Nico was just another one on the list.
The series of events that led towards Marlene and Otto Hischier becoming a part of his life were unconventional, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.
He still remembered the day he met them, clearer than any other memory he had. Clearer than his draft day, his first NHL goal, the day he was awarded captaincy.
The day he met his children stood out, a mix of chaos and stress and fear. But also love and adoration and a step into a new era of his life that he welcomed, even if he was thrown into the deep end with little to no preparation.
Before the twins, the most experience he had with kids was the boys on the team who had children. On family skate days, at team bonding events, even the odd babysitting here and there to give the parents a break for a night.
But having two newborns suddenly under his care was a hurdle Nico never considered he would have to jump in his life.
All things considered, the timing had worked out.
Off-season was around the corner, he had no plans to play for Worlds and he had a few months to settle into some form of routine whilst coming to terms with the fact he was a father.
The days were long, the nights were longer but he made it. He was never really alone, not with the insane support system he had in his team and in his family. Whenever he felt like he was spiralling, there was someone there to hold his hand.
He would be lying if he said he wasn’t shitting himself when preseason training came around again.
He would be lying if he said his parents weren’t absolute saviours the first year of the twins’ lives, practically moving in as they followed him back to Jersey.
It wasn’t easy, far from it. He couldn’t get rid of the fear that he was doing it all wrong, that he was going to somehow fuck up and ruin everything and not give his children the lives they deserved. He constantly felt on edge, wanting nothing more than to give them the best lives he could, the best childhood he could.
Which led them to the twins’ belated second birthday party at his parents’ house in Switzerland, having what had been a recurring argument with his parents since the off-season started.
“What was wrong with Mrs Holden?”
Nico let out a sigh, already feeling a sense of deja vu washing over him. “She was too…traditional. She wouldn’t let Marley wear the blue dress she loves so much.”
His mother hummed. “And that one that wanted to be a teacher, hm? Vanessa! She seemed sweet.”
“Yes, until she started insisting my parenting skills were wrong because I wasn’t pushing the twins to learn their abc’s before they could say three words,” Nico scoffed under his breath, frowning as the memory of the woman repeated in his head.
“And that nice boy, Felix? He was Swiss too!” Rino questioned. “The twins loved him.”
“Yeah, and he loved telling people the twins were his kids too,” Nico deadpanned.
“He said he was an uncle,” Rino corrected.
“That doesn’t make it any better,” Nico muttered.
“Fine then,” Katja sighed. “What about Olive? You liked her and she looked after the kids for months!”
“Yes but,” Nico waved his hand in some incoherent gesture. “She wasn’t right for them.”
“Nico,” Rino said in a heavy voice.
“I know you think I’m being overprotective but I just want what’s best for them,” Nico insisted, his fingers lightly skimming over the side of the glass in front of him. “They are getting older and they are more impressionable. They need stability and I need someone I can trust will be a good influence on them.”
“Yes but it’s been months of looking and you haven’t found anyone,” Rino pointed out. “Which is fine now, you have months until preseason starts. But it only gets harder the longer you leave it.”
Nico swallowed harshly. “I know, I know…”
“We know you care about them,” Katja spoke in a soft voice, reaching across the table to place her hand on his arm. “We get it. Trust me, we do. But the way you care about them is the way we care about you, and we are just worried about you being left to take care of the twins all by yourself when the season starts.”
“I’ll find someone,” Nico said, and he hoped he sounded as determined as he did in his head. “It will be worth it. And they will be what the twins need.”
Katja smiled, though it looked a bit sad. “We hope so.”
“Where are the twins, anyways?” Rino questioned, steering the conversation away and giving Nico a chance to relax his shoulders. “I’m surprised they haven’t started demanding cake.”
“Ah,” Nico smiled. “That’s because they are playing with—“
“TICKLE MONSTER IS GOING TO GET YOU!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
Nico’s grin widened even more as the sounds of his children’s giggles sounded through the house. “Tickle monster with Unkel Luca,” he finished eventually as the three of them raced into the room.
Marley and Otto made a beeline for him, cheeks red and smiles wide as they jumped for his lap, screeching and squealing and laughing as they tugged on their father’s shirt.
“Papa! Papa!” Marley giggled, hiding her face against his forearm as she clung onto him. “Unkel Luca is running!”
“He’s running after you?” Nico asked, watching as both nodded quickly. He stole a glance at his older brother, watching as he stood there with an innocent smile before shaking his head fondly. “That’s not very nice of him, is it?”
“No,” Otto giggled. “Game, Papa, game!”
“Oh, it’s a game,” Nico nodded in understanding.
“Need to hide,” Marley explained, panting lightly. And then she blinked, big brown eyes staring up at him in a way that made him want to melt. “Help us?”
Nico couldn’t help but sigh happily. “Yeah, baby, Papa will help.”
He lifted the edge of the tablecloth high enough for the twins’ eyes to widen in delight at their new hiding place, both ducking their heads as they shuffled under the table and quickly planted themselves by their grandparents’ feet with high-pitched giggles.
Luca grinned, waiting for Nico to drop the tablecloth before he let out an exaggerated sigh and placed his hands on his hips. “Oh no! Where did they go?”
Nico could feel his heart melting even more when their giggles only got louder.
Katja’s expression softened as she watched the way her youngest son slip into the role of a father so well.
“You’ll find someone,” Katja nodded, smiling in a way only a mother looking at her child could. “And I’m sure they will be perfect for the twins.”
Nico returned the smile, something quite like hope twisting in his stomach.
…
June and July and August slipped away from him before he realised what was happening.
He had taken the summer for granted, basking in life away from hockey and cameras and expectations. He was enjoying spending time with his kids and his family and his friends back home. He was enjoying living a normal, less-than-hectic life.
Then all too soon, he was herding two hyperactive toddlers onto a plane back to Jersey with the overwhelming reality that he had done exactly what his parents warned him about and left everything far too last minute.
“Papa?”
He blinked, turning his head to find Otto slumped with his head on Nico’s thigh, blinking as he fought to keep his eyes open.
“Uncle Jack come in car?” Otto questioned, something quite excited in his voice despite the exhaustion.
“Yeah, Uncle Jack is picking us up,” Nico nodded with a smile as he reached to gently push his fingers through the young boy’s hair, watching as his eyes fluttered shut. “He’s excited to see you both.”
Otto blinked. “Hugs?”
Nico hummed, lightly scratching his scalp in the way that always made Otto sleepy—even as a baby. “Uncle Jack is going to give you so many hugs.”
“Good,” Otto murmured before slumping back down against his thigh.
Unsurprisingly, neither Otto nor Marley stayed awake by the time Jack arrived. It hadn’t stopped Jack from cooing and smiling and muttering a ‘finally back home’ before he helped Nico settle the twins into the car seats in the back.
Nico hadn’t even realised how exhausted he was himself until he was settled in the passenger seat, his eyes closing as he let out a deep sigh.
“So,” Jack begins.
Nico let out a hum of acknowledgement.
“I had lunch at Curtis’ the other day,” he continued, doing what he did best and beating around whatever point he wanted to make because he wanted to tell a story.
“Is that so?” Nico muttered because he knew Jack and he knew the boy wouldn’t continue unless he played along.
“He mentioned you were still looking for a nanny for the twins,” Jack said, his fingers aimlessly tapping against the wheel. “Said you asked him about any good agencies you could go through.”
Nico slowly opened his eyes, turning his head to flash his friend a look. “Where are you going with this?”
“Nothing,” Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Just wondering why you didn’t ask me too, you know?”
Nico blinked. “Because Curtis has children, Jack.”
“I could still find you a good babysitter,” Jack argued, his nose scrunching slightly. “You haven’t given me a chance.”
“I don’t think I want to give you a chance,” Nico retorted.
“Rude,” Jack huffed. “I’ll have you know, as the twins’ favourite uncle—”
Nico made a small noise of disagreement (just to wind the younger boy up).
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “As the twins’ favourite uncle,” he repeated a little more forcefully. “You gotta have a little faith that I would find someone suitable for the job.”
Nico let out a deep sigh. “You already have someone in mind, don’t you?”
Jack flashed him an innocent grin. “In my defence, Curtis had to listen to the fifteen possible candidates I found and narrowed it down to the one he would trust with his kids too.”
And maybe it was the exhaustion. Or maybe it was the desperation. Or maybe—though he would never admit it to Jack for the sake of the boy’s ego getting bigger—he could trust Jack to know the kind of person Nico needed around the twins.
And there was the added bonus he could say ‘I told you so’ if it went wrong.
“Fine,” Nico said eventually. “I’ll check out your nanny.”
…
“So, you’re going on a date?”
“Stop calling it a date,” you grumbled into the phone as you walked down the street, brows furrowed as you read the names of the shops you passed. “It’s just an interview.”
“Back in my day, a man took a lady to a coffee shop for a date. Interviews were in offices.”
You rolled your eyes a little at your grandmother’s words. “Coffee shop dates aren’t a generational thing, people still do them.”
“So you admit it’s a date?”
“Once again, it’s an interview for a new job, Nana,” you said, a voice in the back of your mind reminding you to not give into the conversation. But it was too late.
“Well, excuse me for just wanting my lovely granddaughter to find someone instead of working herself to the bone.”
“Nana,” you said with a sigh.
“You jump from family to family, I just want you to have the same thing, honey.”
“I know,” you murmured, feeling a little guilty as the sincerity in her voice sounded through the phone. “When I go on that date, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Actually, Bernice has this grandson—”
“Bye, Nana!”
You winced a little at your phone, reminding yourself to visit her in the care home this weekend to make up for the phone call. And to bring those lemon bars she loved from the bakery down the road from you. It tended to soften her bad moods when you brought her sweet treats, and denying another one of her attempted blind dates was definitely going to put you in her bad books.
But you pushed the thought away for now, straightening your back as you looked up at the sign above the cafe, double and triple checking it was the right place before walking in. Your eyes skimmed over the customers currently sat around the cafe, picking them apart until you paused on a man sitting alone, tucked away in the cosy book corner of the establishment.
It was the white beanie on his head—the one he had mentioned he would be wearing—that confirmed to you he was the one you were meeting.
“Mr Hischier?”
The man jumped a little, like his own name took him by surprise before he quickly schooled his features. Almost instinctively, he stood up from his seat before flashing you a polite and somewhat awkward smile.
“Nico is fine,” he assured you before clearing his throat, gesturing towards the seat across from him. “Please, sit down. Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine,” you assured him, choosing to leave out the fact your heart was beating fast enough as it was. Caffeine wouldn’t help the interview jitters. “Just to make it clear from the start, your partner explained your situation and how the job might vary a bit from my previous schedules—”
“Partner?” Nico repeated with a frown.
“Yes, the one I spoke on the phone to originally for the job,” you said, keeping a polite smile on your face. “Uh, Jack, I believe his name was.”
“I—” Nico’s face started to turn pink, a sheepish laugh escaping his lips. “No, Jack isn’t my partner. He is a close friend.” He paused before continuing. “Not close like that! Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just mean, he is a very good friend of mine because we are also teammates. Who work together. On the same team.”
“Right,” you murmured, your lips twitching upwards in amusement. “I’m sorry, usually it’s the parents calling up and he seemed to know so much about your kids so I assumed—”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Nico laughed, a little more relaxed than he was a few moments ago when you had walked into the cafe. “He really cares about the twins.”
Your smile softened a little. “From our short conversation, I could tell they mean a lot to him. And you do too, he seemed really persistent in finding the right person to help you out.”
Nico nodded, but there was still a light blush on his cheeks. “It’s, uh, just me and the twins. The team helps out a lot but with our job, we travel a lot and the twins are getting older and I can’t always take them with me.”
“You need someone who can provide them with structure and stability,” you guessed.
“Exactly,” Nico let out a short breath, his shoulders dropping a little. “I travel a lot. Sometimes gone for days at a time and I know that can be a lot—”
“Jack explained,” you assured him with a polite smile. “I’m aware of the arrangement, if that is what you’re worried about. It doesn’t put me off, especially with what Jack has told me. They seem like great kids.”
“They are,” Nico said, beaming a little when he did.
You smiled, settling back against your seat. “Tell me more about them.”
…
Nico liked to think he was a good judge of character.
And, though it would pain him to ever admit as much out loud, he couldn’t deny that Jack had made a great choice with you. It was overwhelming to think about but he should have never doubted Jack, not when the boy loved the twins almost as much as he did. Not when he and the others on the team treated the twins like they were family.
The boys had his back and that extended to his family too.
After the initial interview, there was a little more back and forth between you and Nico, mostly discussing logistics and scheduling and further details. With preseason approaching, Nico preferred to have the twins established and comfortable with you before the regular season started and the long roadies began.
And you were so cooperative, it honestly caught Nico off guard. It wasn’t like he expected you to make things difficult, but he had his fair share of babysitters and nannies who had made a point to be a bit hesitant about the schedule.
It was refreshing to have someone on the same page as him.
“Oh no, I wonder where they are hiding. I might never find them!”
Nico didn’t even bother to hide his smile as he stood in the middle of the living room, shaking his head fondly at the two pairs of legs peeking out from behind one of the couches. He had spent the last hour frantically cleaning the house for your arrival, wanting to make the best impression he could but the living room was a lost cause with a variety of kids' toys sprawled over the room.
With preseason starting soon, he was beginning to feel the heavy weight of the hockey season and his captain duties starting to settle in. But this was his biggest priority, his kids would always be his biggest priority.
“I guess they don’t want me to meet our new fründ who was really excited to meet them,” Nico continued, letting out a theatrically loud sigh.
It took seconds before Otto’s head popped up, eyes wide and curious. “New friend?”
Nico smiled. “She is coming to meet you both today.”
“I want a new fründ!” Marley exclaimed as she popped up beside her brother, her grin matching his own and it made Nico’s chest tighten—in a good way, of course.
“And what do we remember when we meet a new friend?” Nico asked, already crouching down as both twins ran towards him and happily tucked themselves into his arms.
“Be nice,” Otto said.
“Be kind,” Marley added.
“Good,” Nico praised, pressing quick kisses to both their cheeks as they giggled at the scratch of his beard against their skin. “Best behaviour, okay? This friend is going to be coming around a lot if you like her.”
Otto tilted his head. “Like the other friends?”
Nico nodded. “Only if you like her.”
Because at the end of the day, that was what mattered most—that was what made him fire babysitters and nannies in the past. Credentials and first impressions only went so far compared to the opinion of his kids. He trusted their judgement. He wanted them happy and comfortable with the person who would be with them almost as much as he would be. He wanted the twins to choose their person too.
He knew his parents and even some of the guys on the team thought he was being picky, but Nico just thought he was being fair. His kids deserved to have someone they liked and trusted, he had a duty to find that person for them.
Even if their excitement was hidden by their own shyness and hesitancy when you finally rang the doorbell.
“Hey,” Nico breathed out, smiling a little as he opened the door. “Come on in. The twins are excited to meet you.”
“I’m excited to meet them,” you smiled back, stepping in and letting your eyes wander around the apartment. “Nice place.”
“Would you believe me if I said it’s never usually this clean?” Nico mused, trying to disperse the nerves bubbling in his chest.
“Potentially,” you retorted, still polite and lighthearted as your eyes continued to wander.
“I appreciate the honesty,” Nico huffed out with a laugh, closing the door behind you before shifting his attention to the two toddlers who had now hidden themselves back behind the couch. “Otto, Marley, I thought you wanted to meet our new friend.”
Your smile became less performative and more genuine as the two heads peeked from around the couch to stare at you curiously. They slowly wandered over, keeping close to Nico until they were practically hiding behind him with just enough visibility to keep watching you.
You crouched down, smiling softly as you offered them a wave. “Hi there, your dad has told me so much about you two.”
Marley blinked before looking up at Nico, her little hands clinging onto the fabric of his jeans. “Papa?”
“It’s okay, baby, you can talk to her,” Nico assured, his thumb lightly smoothing over the back of her head as she tried to hide her face against his thigh.
It was Otto who tilted his head at you, looking more curious than anything. “Do you want to play mini sticks?”
Nico watched your brows furrow with confusion but you kept a smile on your face. “I would love to! Is it okay if you teach me? I don’t think I have played before.”
Marley gasped, no longer bothered with hiding behind her father’s leg as she stepped around him. “You never play mini sticks before?”
You flashed her a sheepish smile. “I have never played any hockey before.”
“We will teach you,” she said with a confident nod that made Nico grin.
“Watch out,” Nico commented, his words teasing but his gaze for his children adoring. “They are vicious. They are winners.”
“Just like Papa,” Otto confirmed with a nod of his head.
“We will teach you to win,” Marley said, also nodding her head.
You smiled at the two of them. “I can’t wait.”
…
Over the next two weeks, Nico was pretty happy to report that his judge of character was, in fact, good.
Despite his parents’ concern over leaving everything so last minute, the lead up to the preseason wasn’t as stressful as he imagined. As much as Jack joked about Nico being helicopter parent, he did tend to hover over the first few sessions just to make sure the twins were happy and content.
Marley tended to take a little longer to warm up to new people, a little shy and cautious but still eager to make new friends. Otto was a little better but he tended to always look towards Nico when he needed to ask something, like a little confidence boost to make sure he wasn’t doing something he wasn’t meant to. And much to everyone’s amusement, they tended to be just as stubborn as he was.
He just wanted to make sure they would be okay when he eventually left for training camp.
Nico was honestly a little dumbfounded just how much the twins liked you. Even more so at how quickly you seemed to pick up on their habits, on their personalities, on their quirks that most nannies had tried to change.
He was glad the twins were happy but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little thrown off guard just how well you adapted to Otto and Marley.
One of the first times he really saw it was during a not-so-surprising morning tantrum from Otto who was being fussy and difficult and very, very loud.
Nico had suspected he hadn’t slept well, and had his theory confirmed when the young boy started fussing and trying to wake his sister up in the early hours of the morning. Nico was already awake before his alarm went off, bleary eyed and exhausted and holding onto the guilt that the jet lag was still messing with the twins’ sleep schedule after being in Switzerland for the last few months.
You arrived at the apartment sometime just before eight in the morning, your face scrunched in sympathy as Nico opened the door—still dressed in whatever ratty sweatpants and thoroughly worn hoodie he threw on at five in the morning when there was barely any light in the room—looking like he kind of wanted his eardrums to burst already.
Nico opened his mouth, greetings and apologies ready to tumble out but you just shook your head with a sheepish smile.
“I get it,” was all you said before you slid into the apartment, closing the door before the screams could disturb the neighbours anymore than they already had.
Nico had watched in a cloudy daze as you kneeled down on the floor beside the couch Otto had thrown himself over, your voice patient and soothing as you waited for him to lift his head before you finally reached out to lay a comforting hand on his back, like you wanted to make sure he saw you reach out first and make the decision on whether or not he wanted you to touch him.
It took a while before he fully calmed down from the breakdown, still sniffly and red eyed by the time you coaxed the boy into enjoying some mini pancakes whilst some random cartoon played on the tv.
Nico could only mutter his thanks so many times as he handed you a generously large mug of coffee.
And it continued like that over the introductory period.
The twins started to pick up on the routine, and started to expect you in the house by the time they woke up. They started looking forward to you arriving, like a fun new step in their morning routine they welcomed far easier than they had with previous nannies.
There were still moments where their eyes would look for him, look to their father to make sure he was still there and everything was okay. But the initial shyness disappeared, replaced with a familiarity they shared with few other people in their lives, like the team or family back in Switzerland.
It made Nico feel a lot more settled by the time the preseason games came along.
Nico had left the apartment during the twins’ afternoon nap, pressing two lingering kisses on their foreheads before he snuck out to head to the rink. He had been procrastinating, finding excuses to stay in the apartment until the last possible moment, clinging onto the last dregs of summer before the season truly started.
The game was as rough as one would expect after months without hockey. But it felt good. It felt even better when the final buzzer sounded through the Rock and the Devils came out the other end of their first preseason game of the year as the victors. It felt really good to have hockey back.
And it felt even better to finally get back home to his kids.
He knew it was past their bedtime and tried to tamper down his expectations, but it didn’t change the sense of relief that washed over him as he walked through the front door and let himself drop his bags by the entryway before walking further into the apartment.
He was mildly surprised to find you sitting on the couch with the post game show on.
He was even more surprised at the two sleeping figures curled up with their heads on your lap.
“Oh hey, you’re back.”
Nico stood a few feet away from the couch, staring at the scene in front of him with tired eyes.
“Oh, right, sorry,” you laughed a little, an almost sleepy smile on your face as you looked down at the twins. “They insisted they wanted to watch the game and promptly passed out during the first break. But every time I tried to move them, they would get fussy and insist they were awake to watch you so I just let them doze off here.”
Nico’s voice was soft when he spoke. “You let them watch?”
You gave him a weird look. “Yeah? Was I not meant to? They really wanted to—”
“No, it’s okay,” he assured you, a weird tightness in his chest as he wandered closer, his lips twitching when he saw Marley holding onto your ankle. “The other nannies usually sent them to bed. They didn’t want to sit and watch the games themselves.”
“Well, I can’t say I knew what was going on,” you admitted sheepishly. “The twins tried explaining some of it to me but I have a feeling you don’t get penalties for nap times.”
Nico snorted. “Jack told them once that if they get a penalty, they can take a nap in the box.”
“Sounds like a fun rule,” you teased with a smile.
“Let me help you get them to bed,” Nico insisted as he leaned down, slowly and carefully picking Marley up into his arms.
“You sure?” You asked, even as you moved to pick Otto up without waking him. “You must be tired.”
“I’m fine,” Nico said, smiling a little. “It’s only the first game. Wait until we are halfway through the season.”
“I may be strong but not strong enough to drag a two hundred pound hockey player to bed,” you told him, your smile widening as Nico let out a laugh—one he quickly had to muffle before he woke up the twins.
“You might have to start increasing your bench press then.”
The tightness in his chest settled a little after you fondly rolled your eyes at him. It made the idea of the one day road trips on the preseason schedule a little easier to deal with. There were still a few more weeks before either of you had to deal with Nico being gone for longer roadies, but he didn’t fear the idea as much as he did.
…
“So.”
Nico let out a hum of acknowledgement, his eyes focused on the drill the third line was currently running. His lungs were still trying to recover from doing it himself a few minutes ago.
“I was right about her, wasn’t I?”
Nico blinked before he turned his head to look at the way Jack was leaning against his stick, a smug expression painted on his face. “What?”
“The nanny,” Jack replied like it was obvious. “I was right about her, right? She’s perfect for the twins.”
Nico resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Are you really trying to boast in the middle of practice?”
“Yes,” Jack replied with no hesitation.
“She is good,” Nico nodded because he wasn’t going to lie, even if said lie would stop Jack’s ego inflating. “The twins love her—”
“More than me?”
“Oh my god,” Nico groaned, shoving the boy away with a laugh.
“I’m serious, Nico, do they love her more than me? Because then you have to fire her.”
Nico didn’t respond, just shaking his head before he skated towards where Jonas and Timo were standing a few feet away.
“Nico, am I still their favourite?!”
…
“So, what? You can just hit each other and no one says anything?”
Nico laughed. “Basically.”
“This sport feels barbaric,” you murmured, your focus on the vegetables you were currently dicing. It took you a few moments to process your own words before your head snapped up. “In a really cool way, obviously.”
“It’s a part of the game,” Nico replied with a shrug. “And sometimes the fights are justified. Sometimes you are fighting for your teammate’s honour.”
“How noble,” you teased.
“Give it a few more games and it will be your favourite part of hockey,” Nico mused before his eyes briefly glanced over at the clock.
His mother always liked to joke that if there was one thing that really assured the twins were his children, it was their napping abilities. It was almost impressive how quickly they could pass out, dead to the world and happy to stay that way for two or three hours.
It rivalled the naps he took before games.
“Okay, so hitting is allowed,” you commented, gently elbowing him out the way so you could pour the diced vegetables into the pan on the stove. “Otto said helmet kisses are essential. Is that true?”
Nico’s grin widened. “Yeah, they are essential,” he nodded. “Like after a win or a good goal, it’s normal to just…bop your helmets together.”
“Like gentle rhinos,” you mused. “Who would’ve thought hockey was such a cute and violent sport?”
“You really didn’t know anything about it?” Nico questioned. He noticed the way you tended not to talk about yourself too much, nothing beyond the facts he could pick between random comments and conversations here and there. Mostly when he was listening to you talk to the twins.
“We weren’t really a hockey family,” you admitted sheepishly. “Nana said she did have a baseball phase but only because she liked the way the boys looked in the uniforms.”
Nico let out a surprised laugh. “She told you that?”
“You’d understand if you met her,” you muttered, though it sounded fond rather than annoyed. “She’s shameless and crude and the most honest person you’ll ever meet.”
“Think I could make her a hockey fan?” Nico asked, raising his brows.
“She would probably love the violence,” you replied with a snort. “You might have a new coach on your hands.”
“It would help you learn the game,” Nico teased.
You let out a groan. “How was I supposed to know the twins were lying about the pancake rule?”
Nico pressed his lips together to hold back his laugh. “You really thought there was a rule called the pancake penalty?”
“Well with the amount all of you fall on the ice over nothing, it wouldn’t surprise me,” you retorted.
“Touché.”
…
Thankfully for Nico’s sanity, the season started with a string of home games.
It helped to live in the delusion of summer a little longer. He would go to practices and go to games but he would always come home to his apartment at the end, come home to the twins and to you and to the little bubble the four of you had created over the last few weeks.
And it was clear that the twins loved it too, loved having you around more than he had ever seen with any previous nanny.
“GOAL!”
You let out a cheer, lifting your arms up to mimic Otto before he rushed towards you and threw his arms around your neck.
“We did it, we did it!” He continued to cheer, giggling away as Nico let out a playful groan from the mini net he had set up in the living room.
“It’s okay, Papa,” Marley assured him, one hand placed on his cheek as she spoke to him. “You are not a good goalie but you are a good player!”
Nico huffed out a laugh, pulling Marley close to him as she squealed. “I think we will leave Uncle Marky in the goals for now, yeah?”
“Otto, honey, remember what we do after a game,” you reminded the young boy in a soft voice as he happily propped himself on your lap.
“Be a good person,” he nodded before looking at his father with big eyes. “Good game. I like playing with you. I love you.”
You grinned. “Perfect, honey.”
Marley tilted her head. “Why do you say that?”
You glanced up at her, raising your brows. “What?”
“Honey,” Marley repeated, a crease forming between her brows as she looked between you and Nico. “I thought we eat honey.”
“We do,” you nodded. “But sometimes you call someone honey when you care about them. It’s like a nickname. My grandma calls me honey because she cares about me.”
Marley nodded like she understood.
“Does that mean we call you honey?” Otto asked, tilting his head back to look up at you. “We care about you.”
Your lips twitched upwards. “Yeah, you can call me honey.”
“It sounds funny,” Marley admitted with a giggle before turning back to Nico. “Papa, you have to say it too!”
Nico nodded, his own smile widening when his daughter nodded in approval. “And do I get to call you honey?”
“No,” Marley said with a shake of her head. “It’s Honey’s name now!”
But before Nico could respond, Otto was back on his feet with a mini stick in one hand and the makeshift puck in the other.
“Honey, we are the winners!”
…
“On a scale from one to ten, how bad was the tantrum?”
“Not bad actually,” Nico admitted as Jack settled into the free seat next to him. “I think the excitement of Honey having a three day sleepover with them took away from the fact I wouldn’t be there.”
The bus fell silent.
Jack looked far too smug.
Nico could feel his cheeks burning up.
Jonas turned around in his seat to look at him. “Honey?”
“It’s not like that,” Nico rushed to explain but he had a feeling none of the boys were buying what he was saying. “The twins call her Honey and I don’t want to confuse them—”
“Uh huh,” Nate snorted. “Bud, those two are little Einsteins. There’s no way that would confuse them.”
Nico’s cheeks burned hotter.
“So, when’s the wedding?” Timo asked with a grin.
“Shut up,” Nico muttered out, taking the bundled up hoodie Jack had been using as a pillow to throw at the other man a few rows down.
“Hey!” Jack gaped.
“It’s nothing, don’t make it weird,” Nico said to the group, choosing to pointedly ignore the murmurs and looks of disbelief. “She’s the twins’ nanny.”
Nico also chose to ignore the way Jonas muttered ‘liar’ under his breath in Swiss German.
…
The call rang through three times before you picked up.
It was barely dinner time in Colorado, most boys happy to get settled in their hotel rooms and enjoy the night off to relax and prepare for the early practice in the morning. But it gave Nico the perfect opportunity to check in back home, have some time on the phone before the twins’ bedtime.
His stomach was twisted in knots like it usually was when he left the twins until the sight of all three of you popped up on his screen.
“Papa!”
His grin widened at the excitement in his kids’ voices. He didn’t think he would ever get sick of that.
“Woah, where’s all this energy coming from?” Nico questioned, watching fondly as the twins instantly broke into giggles, turning back to look at you before turning their attention back to their father.
“Honey said we would have dessert if we were good,” Otto told him, still grinning.
“We had chocolate!” Marley exclaimed.
“Well, you both were very good today,” you said, propping your phone up on the coffee table before letting yourself sit back on the floor, both twins determined to sit on your lap. “Good kids get good rewards.”
“And chocolate is the best,” Nico added, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Especially if it’s Swiss chocolate.”
“Swiss chocolate is the best because Swiss is the best,” Otto nodded.
“Switzerland, schätzli,” Nico corrected with a small huff of laughter. “The country is called Switzerland but the people and the things are Swiss.”
“Oh,” Otto said before turning to look at you. “Honey, we are Swiss!”
You laughed, nodding. “My favourite Swiss people.”
“Including Papa?” Marley asked.
“Of course,” you nodded, shooting Nico an amused look. “All three of you.”
The twins beamed in response. Nico felt the odd urge to do the same.
“Are you excited for your sleepover with Honey?” Nico asked, feeling a little smug when the twins did exactly what he assumed they would and instantly started babbling away about how they had spent their day since he left for the bus earlier that morning.
It was around an hour or so later—after Nico had stayed on the phone for a bedtime story because the twins insisted he needed to hear one too—that Nico found himself just looking at you over the phone as you shuffled around the living room, cleaning up the last of the twins’ toys.
“Thank you,” Nico found himself saying before he could second-guess himself.
You looked confused. “For what?”
“Just being here this season,” Nico confessed, a lot more going unspoken.
He wanted to tell you that he had never felt so at ease about leaving his kids with someone as much as he did with you. He wanted to tell you that he had never seen his kids so happy and bubbly around someone that wasn’t his family or his team. He wanted to tell you that he never thought he would find the person that fit the unreachable standard he made in his head when he was looking for a nanny for the twins and you seemed to go above and beyond.
He wanted to tell you a lot but it was late and he didn’t think a facetime call during his first proper roadie of the season was the time to confess any of it.
“Of course,” you said with a smile that made his stomach twist—in a good way. “You gonna win tomorrow?”
Nico chuckled. “We’ll try.”
“Good,” you grinned. “You’ll have your biggest fans rooting for you back home in Jersey.”
His mouth was moving before he could even process his own thoughts. “Does that include you?”
But you laughed and something in him eased.
“Yeah, I think I’m starting to understand this whole hockey thing.”
Nico found his smile widening. “Good.”
…
Nico felt like he blinked when suddenly the calendar was showing November.
The pace of the season felt a lot faster than usual, and he was yet to work out if that was for better or for worse. But the team was feeling good, they had more wins than losses and—even if he wouldn’t say it out loud in fear of jinxing something before it happened—he had a really good feeling about this year’s team.
Even as the aches and pains and bruises that usually came after weeks of non-stop hockey started to return, Nico found himself really enjoying the season in a way he hadn’t really experienced in a while.
It felt good when everything was starting to click into place, even off the ice.
“You’re doing it wrong!”
Nico paused peeling the banana he was currently holding. “Wrong?”
Otto nodded, pouting up at his father.
“You’re not doing it the Honey way,” Marley said, pressing herself against his thigh like she usually did when she was tired and barely awake and still a bit fussy from Nico waking her up.
“The Honey way?” Nico questioned, glancing down at the banana with a pensive look. He didn’t realise there were multiple ways to peel and cut a banana.
“She makes the best!” Otto insisted.
Nico let out a sigh as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of both of their heads. “How about you both go wait on the couch and I’ll call Honey so we can make breakfast the Honey way?”
“Call?” Marley repeated, blinking up at him. “I wanna talk to Honey!”
“Me too!”
“It’s Honey’s day off,” Nico reminded his children in a soft voice. “We don’t want to disturb her when she is busy, yes?”
His heart clenched at the way the twins both deflated.
“Okay, Papa.”
He didn’t get the chance to say much else before they rushed off into the other room, leaving him feeling sluggish and far too on edge as he reached for his phone, pressing your contact before he could let himself spiral over his children’s dejected faces.
“Hey, is everything okay? Are the twins okay? Are you okay?”
“I—” Nico blinked, taking a few moments to really process the words you blurted out the second the call connected. “Yeah, everything is okay. Sorry to call you on your day off.”
“It’s okay. I really don’t mind.”
“I don’t want to keep you long,” Nico started, staring down at the bananas on the counter in front of him with a frown. “Just wanted to know how you make banana pancakes the Honey way.”
“The Honey way?”
“The twins seem insistent that it’s the only way to make them,” Nico nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. “Apparently I’m cutting the bananas wrong?”
His chest tightened even more at the sound of your laugh.
“You have to mash them in Marley’s Spiderman bowl,” you said, and even if he couldn’t see you, he swore you were smiling too. “It makes them taste better, apparently. Helps them be big and strong for the rest of the day like a real superhero.”
“Of course,” Nico huffed out a laugh, already moving to the cupboard where the bowl was kept. “Thanks. And sorry for bothering you again.”
“It’s really no worries. I was just heading over to visit Nana anyways. She won’t mind if I’m a few minutes late.”
“Say hi from me?”
“Of course.”
“Bye, Honey.”
“See you tomorrow, Nico.”
…
“Oh, he’s pretty.”
“Nana!”
“What?” The older woman exclaimed, waving you off. “I am just calling it as it is. And he’s a pretty boy. Nice smile. Nicer body–”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, lightly smacking her arm as Bernice from the other table looked over with a bitter look. “Keep your voice low.”
“Ignore her,” Nana commented offhandedly as she reached for her teacup. “She is just bitter because I said you were too pretty for her grandson.”
“How are you the same woman who scolded me about manners?” You grumbled under your breath, letting out a small hiss when she pinched your side.
“I am not saying anything wrong,” Nana insisted. “You’re a pretty girl who deserves a handsome man. Bernice’s grandson is not that man. This one though—”
“He’s my boss.”
“You say that like it’s an issue.”
You blinked. “It is.”
“Youths these days,” Nana huffed before she leaned back in her armchair. “Fine, forget the pretty European man. Tell me, are the kids better than those brats you watched in Manhattan?”
“They weren’t that bad,” you tried to start but the look you got in response made you wince. “Okay, the Smythe’s weren’t the best. But, Nana, these kids are…perfect. The cutest kids ever, and you wouldn’t believe how smart they are.”
“You’re happy here, yes?” Nana asked, something a little more serious in her voice. “Because I don’t want you working somewhere for the sake of it if you aren’t—”
“I’m happy, I promise,” you assured her with a softer smile, placing your hand over hers. “They are a good family.”
“As long as they are taking care of you,” she insisted.
“They are,” you promised.
Nana hummed. “Could also let that boss of yours take care of you in other ways—”
Your cheeks burned. “Nana!”
“He has dimples, honey! Dimples!”
“I thought you called me here to tell me the bingo gossip.”
“Oh, you would not believe the stunt Janice pulled—”
…
“Quick, Honey, quick!”
You grinned as you walked through the door, barely letting it shut behind you before you were crowded by two little humans. It was barely eight in the morning and you felt far from being human yourself, but the sight of both twins smiling up at you like they were waiting to jump on you the moment you walked through the door made it easy to forget the fact the sun had barely peeked through the clouds outside.
“I’m here, I’m here,” you sang back, trying to take your jacket off and hug the twins back the best you could all at once. “You two are very hyper this morning.”
“We are going to the park with Uncle Jack!” Otto said excitedly, his chin digging into your thigh as he looked up at you.
You raised your brows in surprise. “We are?”
“Yeah,” Nico appeared from the kitchen, a sheepish expression on his face. “I meant to message you last night to come over later but I forgot.”
“I can leave—” You started but a small whine cut you off.
“But we are going to the park with Uncle Jack,” Marley pouted. “You can’t leave!”
“Marley,” Nico quickly moved to kneel beside his daughter. “Honey will come back later. But she doesn’t have to—”
“But Uncle Jack said we were all going to the park,” Otto frowned, looking between you and Nico with a wounded expression.
“Then we are all going,” you promised as you kneeled down too, giving the twins a smile.
Nico looked over their heads, giving you a grateful smile. “You really don’t have to.”
“Nonsense,” you waved him off. “It’ll be fun.”
“Jack is basically a third kid,” Nico warned you, though his voice was playful.
“Good thing you’re not gonna have to deal with them alone,” you retorted, feeling a little more awake when he grinned back at you.
…
“TAG, YOU’RE IT!”
Nico beamed as he watched the twins running down the path, giggling and screaming as Jack chased after them. They were both bundled up, not causing as much of a fuss about the hats and gloves you coaxed them into wearing before they left the house. It probably had something to do with the twins being more excited about you meeting Jack than focusing on the extra layers.
“They really like him,” you commented, your arm lightly brushing against his as you walked side by side.
“He was there from day one,” Nico said, sounding nostalgic. “He’s probably one of their favourite people in this world.”
“And he loves them just as much,” you noted. “That much was clear from the questions he asked in the initial interview.”
Nico laughed, turning to glance at you. “Oh god, I don’t think I ever asked what he asked you.”
“A lot of hypotheticals,” you responded. “They started off normal, like what if they both wanted an apple but there was only one left or if they wanted to go to the park on a rainy day. Then they got progressively more unrealistic.”
Nico’s eyes were still on you. “Like what?”
“I think there was one about how I would protect the twins if the city was taken over by vampires,” you mused.
“And how would you?” Nico questioned, his voice serious but the expression on his face was lighthearted and teasing.
“Hunt the vampires, obviously.”
Nico let out a loud but sudden laugh. “Yeah?”
“I’ve watched Buffy The Vampire Slayer,” you insisted, trying and failing to keep a serious face. “What more research do you need?”
“They wouldn’t know what’s coming for them,” Nico added, lightly nudging his arm against yours and silently being pleased when you didn’t move away from the touch.
“Don’t underestimate me, Hischier,” you grinned, your eyes gleaming. “I may not be any good at mini sticks but I have other skills you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.”
Nico could only shake his head fondly in response.
“HEY, LOVEBIRDS, YOU’RE THE NEW CATCHERS!” Jack called out, each hand held by one of the twins as they all giggled.
Nico liked to believe his cheeks were pink because of the cold weather, no other reason.
…
By the time December came along, Nico had forgotten all about how stressed and helpless he had felt that summer when everyone bugged him about hiring a nanny for the twins.
Thankfully, his mother had not. She tended to remind him every time they spoke on the phone, in a passing but teasing comment here or there slipped into the conversation. But she did enjoy reminding him whenever the topic of you and the twins came up.
This time was no different.
“It looks like your stubbornness paid off.”
Nico rolled his eyes, only to feel guilty by the action a few moments later even if his mother couldn’t see him right now. “I told you I would find the perfect person for the twins.”
“And is she? Perfect for the twins?”
“She gets them,” Nico said like that explained it all, and it did. Because even though the past nannies he had hired were good and treated the twins well when they cared for them, there was something about you that just clicked with the twins.
You didn’t just treat them like children. They were two humans in your mind, who had their own likes and dislikes and personalities, and you just seemed to understand them almost as well as Nico did. He knew from day one that the twins would constantly be placed together, that there would be many assumptions made of the two of them being the same because they were twins. But you had never treated them as such.
It was different to past nannies who enjoyed the job but were ultimately there for the paycheck. Sometimes, it felt like you were really there for the twins.
It settled something inside him that Nico had no idea he wanted until he met you, until he saw how you cared for his children.
“Good,” his mother hummed, and he could almost imagine the way she was nodding as she spoke. “So we will see her at Christmas?”
“I—“ Nico quickly cut himself off, focusing on keeping his car from jerking into the other lane. “No? I don’t know? I can’t expect her to work on Christmas—”
“She’s a part of the family, Nico.”
“You haven’t even met her,” Nico found himself saying, which was true. Beyond a few waves and general greetings in the back of some FaceTime calls, none of his family had met you.
But there was a voice in the back of his head that really wanted to change that.
“Yes, but you care for her and so do the twins. And she cares for you three too. In my eyes, she’s a part of the family.”
His chest tightened at his mother’s words.
“I’ll ask her,” he found himself saying before he could stop himself. “But no promises.”
…
If there was one thing you could always rely on, it was the shitty winter weather in New Jersey.
The sky felt permanently grey over the last few days, dark clouds and overcast hovering over the state like a threat of the weather soon to come. The temperatures dropped and the forecasts of snow and sleet and rain started to trickle through the radio stations as you drove to and from Nico’s place and your own apartment.
You thought it would be a nuisance at most.
As it would have it, you would be eating your own words mere days later when the snow only got heavier during the day and you were starting to wonder when experts could officially name it a blizzard.
“Will the plane drivers still be allowed to fly the planes?” Otto asked, sleepy and sluggish as he fought the urge to finally close his eyes the second you finished their bedtime story.
“The pilots will still be able to fly their planes,” you assured the young boy, pushing his curls away from his face. “Don’t worry, okay? They will be here for Christmas. You know how I know that?”
Otto blinked slowly. “How?”
“Because Santa will make sure your family are here for Christmas,” you whispered, watching as the boy grinned up at you.
“Santa will bring them?”
“If he must,” you nodded, slowly pushing yourself to stand up. “But only if you’re good and go to sleep like your sister.”
Otto briefly turned his head to look at Marley—who was already fast asleep, cheek pressed against her pillow and small puffs of air leaving her mouth—before nodding to you. “I will sleep. Goodnight, Honey. Forehead kiss, please.”
“Goodnight, bud,” you grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead and then Marley’s before you made your way to the door.
You slowly shut the door behind you, knowing full well that Otto would be out like a light in a few minutes. But you didn’t want to test your luck, trying to keep yourself from making too much noise as you made your way into the living room.
Nico was already sitting on the couch, a few storage boxes sprawled around him. He looked as though he was lost in his own head, a scrapbook sat on his lap that he slowly flipped through with a fond smile on his face.
“Reminiscing?”
His head snapped up, a light blush on his cheeks from getting caught but the smile remained on his face. “Uh, yeah,” he admitted, his voice low and soft. “Nina said she wanted to add some pages with photos from the summer so I was just digging it out.”
You raised your brows. “May I?”
“Please,” Nico insisted, patting the spot next to him and laying the scrapbook over your lap too. “She started it the first summer I took the twins to Switzerland. I would do it myself but she is far better at this stuff than I am.”
“Is this them as newborns?” You asked, your heart melting at the photos of the twins as babies as you flipped to the start of the scrapbook. “Oh my god, they were the cutest lil’ things ever.”
“Still are,” Nico answered proudly, puffing his chest a little.
“They are,” you nodded in agreement, your fingers lightly skimming over the photos before your eyes caught one of Nico fast asleep on the ground beside the twins’ crib, a Devils branded blanket thrown over him. “Oh wow.”
Nico’s cheeks darkened but his smile seemed softer. “They were only a few weeks old and I had no idea what I was doing. I think I was running on two, maybe three hours of sleep there. Jack took that photo, said it was funny seeing all three Hischiers down for a nap.” There was a small pause before he continued. “Jack took most of these photos in the first few weeks.”
You turned to look at him instead of the scrapbook. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Nico nodded. “I was a total mess the first few weeks, couldn’t even begin to consider picking up my phone to capture the moment. But Jack knew I would regret it after, took it upon himself to try and capture as many early memories as he could.”
“Nothing can really prepare you for parenthood,” you said, lightly nudging your shoulder against his. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“It’s harder to be prepared when you had no idea you were even having kids,” Nico added, but the joking tone fell flat. “Sorry, I didn’t—”
“I mean,” you started, a sheepish smile on your face. “It’s none of my business and you don’t have to say anything but—”
“But you’re curious?” Nico finished.
You nodded.
“It was a one night stand,” Nico admitted, his shoulders dropping a little. “She didn’t tell me anything. I didn’t even know she was pregnant. I think she thought she would be fine by herself but…things changed.”
You didn’t say anything, letting the boy get the story out but you did rest your hand on his arm, hoping the small touch would be comforting enough.
“I think we were a few games away from finishing the season,” Nico continued. “It was clear the Devils weren’t making the playoffs and I honestly wanted nothing more than to get on a plane and fly out to Switzerland to deal with the disappointing season back home. Then, child services were getting in touch and showing up at my door with these two babies and telling me they were mine and—”
He let out a shuddering breath.
“She left me a letter,” he murmured. “Saying she was sorry for not reaching out sooner. Saying she didn’t want any parental rights, that I had full custody. Saying that she hoped I wouldn’t judge her for wanting to keep living her life, to not let kids hold her back.”
You squeezed his arm.
“I was a wreck,” Nico confessed, almost sounding remorseful. “Jack came over because we were meant to drive to the rink together for practice and I just…broke down. I don’t even know what happened in those first few hours, it was all a blur to me. I didn’t know the first thing about being a dad, let alone to twins and neither did he. But he stayed and he helped, because that’s the kind of friend he is.”
You smiled softly.
“His mother, Ellen, was actually a huge lifesaver,” Nico said, his lips twitching upwards like he was remembering a fond memory. “She was already in Jersey for a few games but Jack called her, explained everything that was happening and she helped, at least until my own parents could fly out. That summer was…a mess. That whole year was but I wouldn’t have been able to do it without any of them.”
“You have a really good team behind you, Nico,” you said, the strongest urge to speak in a whisper and keep your voice low so you wouldn’t ruin the moment. “Both on and off the ice.”
“I do,” Nico gave you a genuine smile. “You’re a part of that team too.”
You returned the smile. “I am.”
“Uh,” Nico cleared his throat. “About that.”
You raised your brows in questioning.
“If you don’t have any other plans, you’re invited here to join us for Christmas,” Nico said, choosing to leave out the fact his mother had been insisting you join in every phone call he has had with her. “I know the twins would love to have you here and…so would I.”
“Aren’t your family flying in?” You asked, a crease forming between your brows. “I wouldn’t want to impose—”
“You’re not,” Nico insisted. “We want you there. I want you there.”
“I’m visiting Nana in the morning but I could come after,” you said, something twisting in your stomach at the way his face brightened.
“Yeah, perfect,” he nodded, smiling broadly. “You’ll get to experience a proper Hischier Christmas.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Maybe.”
You opened your mouth, a teasing reply on the tip of your tongue when the moment was broken by a deep, booming gust of wind howling and hitting against the windows of the apartment complex. It snapped the soft, whispering atmosphere as the reality of the worsening weather outside hit you.
“Fuck,” you murmured, watching as the flurry of snow rushed down. “I should probably head back before the roads get worse.”
Nico turned to look through the window, frowning. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to drive so late?”
You shrugged. “I’ll go slow.”
His frown deepened.
“It will be fine,” you tried to assure him but Nico was already shaking his head.
“Nonsense,” he said, turning back to look at you. “You can stay in the spare room. I can give you some stuff to sleep in too. That weather isn’t safe to drive in, especially this late.”
Your instant reaction was to reject the offer but you spotted the look on his face, the genuine fear and concern written so blatantly in his expression and you found yourself nodding instead.
“If you are sure,” you said with a nod.
“I’m sure,” he nodded, his lips twitching as he stood up from the couch. “Plus, the twins will be so excited to see you in the morning.”
And he was correct. The twins were crawling into the guest bed beside you before the sun had properly risen the second they caught wind of you staying over for the night.
…
“Meeting the family, huh?”
“Nana,” you groaned, ignoring the happy cackle she let out as you bundled up the scarf you were wearing moments ago and threw it in her direction. “It’s not like that.”
“But it should be like that,” Nana insisted with a wistful sigh. “What is taking this man so long? Look at you!”
“Maybe because he is professional and only sees me as the caretaker of his children,” you deadpanned. “You know, that job he hired me for?”
“Bah!” Nana waved you off, shaking her head. “I want his eyes checked. You’re a catch, honey.”
“You are so dramatic,” you murmured under your breath, but there was something quite fond in your voice. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t want a relationship right now?”
“No,” Nana replied bluntly. “Because you would never deprive your sweet grandmother of seeing her favourite grandchild finally find love before she kicks the bucket.”
“Sweet is not the word I would use,” you retorted, just managing to miss her fingers pinching your side. “Hey, that’s not very festive!”
“Yes, yes, Merry Christmas and all that,” Nana said as she leaned forward, taking your face in her hands as she pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Now, tell me your present to me is a ring that hot European boss of yours gave you.”
You could feel your face heating up. “Nana!”
“I will also take a scarf, I’m not picky.”
…
If there was any doubt in your mind before (which there was not), spending Christmas with the Hischiers confirmed they were, in fact, the nicest family you had ever met.
You had spent the last few months with Nico and the twins, knew their mannerisms and their personalities and the way they lived their lives. You had also nannied for many families before them and you knew what a draw of luck it was to score a job with a family as sweet and wholesome as them.
You just never expected the whole family to be like that.
From the second you walked through the door, it was clear that that was just the way the Hischiers lived their lives.
Katja had you in a hug before you could even take your jacket off, squeezing you close and tight as she murmured something about how well you were taking care of her baby and her grandbabies. Rino had a glass of wine and a plate of finger foods in your hand before you could even think about your rumbling stomach. Even Nina and Luca had taken it upon themselves to take the seats beside you on the living room couch, happy to talk away like you had always been a part of the family.
It was heartwarming and overwhelming in the best way possible, but you were pretty sure that was just the Hischier effect.
“I wanna give Honey her present next!” Marley exclaimed, wiggling out of Rino’s arms as she rushed towards her father with an excited smile. “Please, Papa?”
“Me too! Me too!” Otto called out, perking up from his spot on Nico’s lap.
“Here you both go,” Nico grinned, almost looking mischievous as he handed them both a wrapped present each.
“Oh, for me?” You gasped as they rushed over to you, both presents extended out to you as they gripped them with their little hands. “You didn’t have to.”
“Yes, we do,” Marley said with a nod. “It’s Christmas!”
Your lips twitched upwards at their giggles as you carefully unwrapped the presents as quickly as you could, sensing their own childish impatience. Your surprise became a little more genuine and honest when you saw the gifts laid out on your lap.
There were two separate sweaters—which were sweet and considerate in their own right, and undoubtedly chosen by Nico—but your focus was on the two framed photos underneath the sweaters. Each had been drawn by one of the twins, different versions of one of the many days you three and Nico had spent together.
“Honey?”
You sniffled a little, looking up to find both twins standing in front of you with little frowns on their faces. “Thank you, both of you,” you said as sincerely as you could. “This is the best present I have ever gotten.”
“But you’re crying,” Otto pointed out with a frown.
“Do you not like it?” Marley asked, nervously playing with the hem of her dress.
“No, no, I love it,” you quickly reassured the twins, carefully moving the gifts to the side as you pulled them both into a hug. “They are happy tears! Sometimes when you feel really happy, you can cry too. It’s not a bad thing.”
Otto looked up at you. “Happy tears?”
“Happy tears,” you confirmed with a nod.
“We like happy tears?” Marley asked.
“We do,” you promised before leaning down to peck them both on the forehead. “Thank you for the presents and the happy tears.”
Both of the twins beamed, leaning up to press their own kisses to either one of your cheeks before they turned to look at their father.
“Papa, you’re next!”
Nico’s gaze was already on the three of you, soft and fond, before he snapped out of his own daze. He looked a little embarrassed as he reached for a box, letting Otto and Marley happily carry it back to you. “I don’t think I can compete with the twins but…Merry Christmas.”
You had barely ripped through the wrapping paper before the twins were squealing happily, their little hands helping remove the rest of the wrapping before pushing your present towards you.
“Honey has a jersey!”
“My own jersey?” Your smile widened as you lifted the red jersey, grinning at the Devils logo and the number thirteen on the sleeves.
“Your own lucky jersey,” Nico corrected, grinning back.
“Just like us!” Otto gasped happily.
“Just like you,” you laughed, turning the jersey to find ‘HISCHIER’ printed across the back. You dropped the jersey to your lap as your eyes found Nico again. “Thank you, Nico.”
“And selfishly,” he started as he leaned over to hand you an envelope. “I am hoping the jersey will tempt you to accept this gift too.”
You shot him a confused look but accepted the envelope, quickly tearing it open and pulling out the contents to find two tickets. “Game day tickets?”
“Only fair that the new hockey fan gets to experience a game in person,” Nico beamed. “And there’s a second ticket for Nana too, if she wants to come.”
“You seem so sure she will support the Devils,” you teased, swallowing the emotion that laid thick in the back of your throat at the idea of him including Nana in your gift.
“I got her a jersey too,” Nico retorted, looking far too pleased with himself.
You could have sworn Luca muttered something like ‘ass kisser’ under his breath but you weren’t too sure. The slap on the back of the head from Katja was telling though.
“Thank you,” you repeated, softer than before. For a moment, you almost swore Nico was blushing in response.
“Merry Christmas, Honey.”
…
“Tell me you and Honey got caught under some mistletoe and finally admitted your feelings for each other.”
Nico let out a heavy sigh, taking a long sip of his coffee as Jack settled into the passenger seat. “Good morning to you too.”
“So that’s a no,” Jack huffed, shaking his head.
“Told you so,” Luke spoke up as he climbed into the backseat, for once in his life looking awake at seven in the morning. “You owe me twenty bucks.”
“Shut up,” Jack grumbled. “God, Hisch, you had one fucking job.”
Nico’s brows furrowed together. “I did?”
“Oh my god,” Jack groaned, leaning his head back against the rest. “It’s been ages. How much longer are you going to drag this out?”
“You are saying too many words,” Nico replied bluntly before he pulled away, letting muscle memory mostly take over as he began driving towards the rink.
“This is to spite me,” Jack insisted. “I find you a nanny who is perfect for the job AND for you, and this is how you repay me?”
“What?” Nico muttered. “Jack, I swear to god if this is the girlfriend thing again—”
“It is!”
“—I have other things to prioritise right now,” Nico insisted. “And Honey doesn’t feel that way. Our…relationship isn’t like that.”
Jack gave him a deadpan stare. “You’re shitting me, right? You’re just trying to wind me up, right?”
“I’m telling Timo to pick you up tomorrow if this is how you are going to act,” Nico muttered as he reached for his coffee cup again.
“I would wake up for morning skates way easier if I got this entertainment every time,” Luke commented from the backseat, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Shut up, Luke,” they both replied at the same time.
…
“You’re joking!”
“I’m not!”
“Oh my god,” you laughed, shaking your head as you turned to look at the boy in utter disbelief. “Nico, how could you—”
“I don’t know!” Nico groaned, even if he was smiling. “I just kinda…forgot English? And then I panicked and just found myself nodding before I even realised what I was agreeing to.”
It was a cold January day when the four of you found yourselves in the park once again. The twins seemed to have more energy than usual the second they woke up that morning. They were bouncing off the walls, barely able to sit still during breakfast before they were begging to get out of the house. And after a less than satisfactory start to the season in the new year, Nico was also eager to get out and away from anything hockey related and have a day out at the park.
“So, how was it?” You questioned, nudging your shoulder against his.
“Smelly,” Nico confessed with his nose scrunched up. “I mean, the equipment team loved me for the rest of my time there but…I would not recommend volunteering to clean hockey gear after a long tournament.”
“Gross,” you agreed.
“It prepared me pretty nicely for changing nappies though,” Nico admitted with a laugh. “I guess nothing can be worse than a hockey locker room.”
“Surely you’re used to it by now,” you pointed out.
“Yeah but doesn’t mean a break every once in a while isn’t nice,” Nico retorted, his eyes wandering over to where Otto and Marley were currently attempting to climb up the slide. “February can’t come soon enough.”
You looked surprised by his words. “You get a break in February?”
“All Stars,” Nico explained with a nod. “A few people get picked but everyone else gets a free week off to go somewhere hot and relaxing before the runup to playoffs.”
You lightly elbowed him. “Come on, Captain, surely you were picked.”
His cheeks burned a little but he shook his head. “Nope, I’m free this year.”
“Big plans?” You questioned.
“I wanted to do something for the twins' birthday,” he confessed. “Obviously, we will celebrate on the actual day but there’s going to be so much around hockey and playoffs and I just…I want them to have a proper celebration, even if it’s a little early and even if we do another one in Switzerland with my family.”
Your face softened. “That would be nice.”
“So,” Nico wiggled his brows. “Got any ideas where we could go?”
You tilted your head. “We?”
“What? You thought it was just going to be me and the twins?” Nico grinned, shaking his head and nudging you back with his shoulder. “We are a team now, Honey. The four of us.”
His words made butterflies erupt in your stomach but you quickly pushed that feeling away, focusing on the boy beside you on the bench instead.
“Well, in that case, I think Mexico is calling our name.”
Nico only beamed in response. “I was thinking the same.”
…
“You know, your grandfather never took me to Mexico.”
You tore your eyes away from the hand of cards you were dealt, instead glancing at Nana who sat on the opposite side of the table with a certain look on her face. You couldn’t quite work out whether or not it meant trouble.
“He isn’t taking me to Mexico for the hell of it,” you reminded your grandmother, taking another card from the deck with a frown. “I’m just technically doing my job internationally.”
Nana shot you a look over her cards. “You were meant to be the smart grandchild.”
You frowned. “Hey, rude.”
“Honey, one day it will hit you and I just pray that day happens in my lifetime,” Nana said, sounding wistful as she glanced down at her cards again. “Got any two’s?”
“No, go fish,” you murmured before giving her a pensive look. “You really think it means something that he is taking me to Mexico with the twins for a holiday?”
“Is he paying for your ticket?”
“Yes,” you grumbled. “I insisted but—”
“Then, it means something,” Nana shrugged like it was obvious. “And if you share a hotel room, you owe me lunch at that nice deli.”
Your cheeks burned. “Nana!”
“Don’t be such a prude,” she waved you off. “Now, hurry up before this game bites into my afternoon nap. I’m already feeling sleepy.”
You rolled your eyes before you asked for any three’s, even if your mind was preoccupied with three other people at that moment.
…
“You did well at All Stars, that second goal was a beauty.”
“You’re killing me here.”
Nico frowned. “Most people say thank you after a compliment.”
There was a buzz in the locker room that wasn’t there before the break. It was like reality was starting to sink in, the final run of regular season games ahead before playoffs had people itching to get back on the ice and prove themselves. The Devils have had quite a hot and cold season but Nico believes in his group, he knows they want this just as much as he does.
Everyone was walking into the locker room with a kick of motivation to show the other teams in the league just what damage they could do on the ice.
Everyone minus Jack who seemed annoyed at Nico, despite only being in his presence for thirty seconds.
“Dude,” Jack shot him a look. “Spill about the family holiday! Did you tell her? Did you make a move? Do I need to plan a wedding?”
“I–” Nico felt his heart stutter a little. “What? Jack, no, nothing happened.”
Jack blinked. “What?”
Nico paused. “What do you mean, what?”
“Nico,” Jack took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut as the rest of the locker room fell silent. “Let me get this straight. You go on vacation to Mexico with your kids and the girl who you definitely have feelings for despite what you tell us and…you do nothing?”
“Yes?”
“This is torture,” Jack muttered in utter disbelief, shaking his head. “You are beyond help.”
“Jack—”
“Fucking Mexico and you don’t make a move?”
“Well—”
“I’m overruling your captain title,” Jack interrupted, shaking his head. “You’re doing bag skates today.”
Nico blinked. “You can’t do that.”
“Well, I just did and Sheldon would agree with me,” Jack said in a know-it-all voice before he turned on his heel to head back to his stall.
Theatrics aside, Nico did spend the rest of the practice silently wondering if Jack had a point. He was too tired to keep lying to himself, at least. He knew whatever he felt for you was beyond platonic and professional, but that didn’t change the fact he was sure those feelings weren’t returned.
The two of you had a good thing going and Nico was not about to ruin that over the fact his heart sped up every time he thought about you.
It was a fleeting crush, he told himself. A fleeting crush on someone who was intertwined with his life and his kids’ life. It was just misplaced gratitude that he was reading into. That was all. He was sure of it.
…
“Honey?”
You turned away from the tv, glancing down to your lap to find Otto’s big eyes already staring up at you. “Yes?”
“You are going to stay with us, right?” Otto asked, his words completely catching you off guard and leaving your chest uncomfortably tight. Suddenly, the game was the last thing on your mind.
“What do you mean?” You asked, your brows furrowing as you tried to decipher his words.
Otto shrugged, suddenly looking down at his own hands rather than you.
You turned to find Marley looking just as downcast and it instantly made the hair on the back of your neck turn up. You reached over for the remote, neither of the twins awfully bothered when you muted the commentary before your full focus was on them.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” You asked, urging yourself to remain calm and cautious, to not instantly freak out to the worst case scenario.
“All our friends leave,” Otto eventually muttered out, a frown on his face that made him look so much like Nico in those postgame interviews you had watched. “Papa says they will stay if we like them but then they go.” He paused before he lifted his head back to look at you. “I don’t want you to go, Honey.”
And if that wasn’t heartbreaking, you didn’t know what was.
Nico had told you briefly about some of the past nannies he had hired for the twins. The twins had liked a majority of them, had kept asking questions about where they had gone and if they were coming back.
And you knew it was hard. It was hard to explain things to kids who couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening, who couldn’t understand their father’s decision to fire the previous nannies.
But it also meant that their young minds were left to fill the blanks.
“Oh, baby,” you shook your head, trying your best to give them both the most reassuring smile you could. “That has nothing to do with the two of you, I promise. You two are the best people ever. Your other friends had to leave for another reason—big adult things.”
Marley nuzzled herself closer to you. “Are you going to leave for big adult stuff?”
Your hand was instantly smoothing the curls away from her face, watching her let out a happy sigh as your nails lightly scratched along her scalp. “No, baby, of course not. Not unless you want me to go.”
Otto’s grip on you tightened. “We don’t want you to go.”
“Then I won’t,” you promised, even if that was something you knew better to not promise young children who took things far too literally and personally.
“Good,” Marley murmured, even if half of her face was squished against the jersey you were currently wearing for the game.
You glanced back down when you heard a few sniffles, frowning when you saw Otto scrubbing his little hands against his watery eyes. “Otto, baby, are you okay?”
He nodded, turning his head to look up at you. “Just happy you are staying.”
“Happy tears!” Marley said with a smile, like she was proud of herself for remembering it.
“You promise they are happy tears?” You asked, your chest tightening at the thought of the young boy being genuinely upset until he quickly nodded his head and held out his pinky to you.
“Pinky promise, Honey.”
You hooked your pinky around his. “You know you can tell me if you are upset, okay?”
“We know,” Otto nodded, settling his head back down on your lap with his attention on the game once again. “We tell you or Papa and you will help.”
Your hand instantly moved to tickle his back, smiling a little at the sigh he let out when you did so. Nico had told you the tip a few weeks ago but it was endearing to see how much he loved it.
“Yeah, we will always help you both. Pinky promise.”
For what it was worth, Nico scored less than two minutes later and the twins’ initial moods were completely overshadowed by the excitement and cheering in their celebration around the living room.
…
“Oh, spit it out already!”
In all honesty, Nana had lasted a lot longer than you anticipated. It was clear from the moment you walked through the door of the care home that you were distracted. She had enough respect to not call you out on it instantly, letting you play the part of a doting granddaughter as you made two cups of tea and settled on the couch in the lounge of the care home.
However, three abysmal games of checkers later, she had reached her limit.
“Nana, I’m fine.”
“And I was born last Tuesday if I believed that,” Nana scoffed, having little to no patience left as she swiped the pawns off the board and quickly ended the attempted fourth game. “There. Game over. Now talk.”
You let out a sigh as you slumped back in your seat. “It’s nothing really,” you started before noticing Nana was opening her mouth—most likely to complain—and quickly continued. “Just something the twins said.”
Nana paused, her voice a little softer as she spoke this time. “What happened?”
“I think I’m the longest nanny they have ever had around and they just have this fear I am going to leave. And they were fine once I assured them I was staying, they never brought it up again so there is nothing to worry about,” you began to ramble, the memory replaying in your head over the last few days. “I guess it just made me realise…”
“That you really care about these kids?” Nana finished for you.
You smiled a little. “Yeah, I do.”
“And that you care for their father too and it’s starting to hit you that there is a possibility that there will be a day that they may not need you anymore and it’s scaring you because of how fond you have grown of the family?” Nana continued.
You blinked.
“Too on the nose?” She had the audacity of asking with an innocent smile.
“Nana, what the f—” You quickly cut yourself, clearing your throat and, at least, having the decency of looking sheepish. “What the hell are you on about?”
“Honey, please,” Nana waved you off. “I have seen you nanny for many families and kids and never once have you walked through that door and gushed about them the way that you do with the Hischiers.”
You could feel your face heating up. “They are a good family! I don’t…it’s not like that.”
“Would you want it to be like that?” Nana asked.
You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just the nanny. I shouldn’t read into things that are never going to happen.”
“That didn’t answer my question,” Nana pointed out. “If you’re not ready to admit it, then that’s fine. But it doesn’t change the fact that you have fallen in love with the family over the last few months and that they love you back.”
You stayed silent.
“You have spent the last few years taking care of me and a dozen other families,” Nana said, her tone more gentle as she reached over to take your hand in hers. “I have seen you work yourself to the bone and put others’ needs before your own without a second thought. I have seen you put other families ahead of yourself. All I want for you is to have that family that cares back, that loves you back, that puts you first too.”
“I have you,” you rasped, blinking away the tears lining your lash line.
“And you could have them too,” Nana retorted softly. “Honey, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realise those kids love you back. And that their father does too.”
“You’ve never met Nico,” you tried to argue but Nana was having none of it.
“I know more than enough from the stories you tell me and the way he treats you,” Nana said, squeezing your hand as she spoke. “I am not saying you have to jump in straight away or ring the wedding bells. But I can see that you are happy with them and I think you could be even happier if you let yourself.”
“Is it not better to appreciate what you have instead of losing it all?” You questioned, lips pressed together in a tight smile.
“Maybe,” Nana answered. “But then you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering how different things could have been if you had just taken that step out of your comfort zone. You’ll never know the answer if you never ask the question.”
You didn’t have a reply for her.
“I just want what is best for you,” Nana finished off with a watery smile of her own. “And I think they really could be the answer to that question, at least.”
…
Nana’s words lingered in the back of your mind.
They played on a loop as the days turned into weeks and time seemed to pass far faster than you could comprehend. Before you knew it, the calendar was showing March and you were beginning to see the behind the scenes reality of what pressures Nico was under with captaining a team desperately trying to cling onto a playoff spot as the end of the season neared.
It was fucking awful, to put it lightly, and you didn’t really understand how he was managed to be the best captain he could on the ice, just to come back home and play the role of a father so well. But you could only admire it and admire him from a distance.
However, it felt like Nana’s words planted a seed in your head, letting the thought fester and grow despite how desperately you had tried to weed it out over the last few months. It had a mind of its own and it felt like everywhere you looked, you were seeing the world that Nana saw for you with the Hischiers.
You saw that future in the mornings when Nico left for practice, making sure to have a quick breakfast with you and the twins before he left the apartment after giving each one of you a kiss on the forehead (something the twins demanded he extend to you too because it was only fair in their eyes). And Nico did it happily every single morning.
You saw that future in the nights where the twins were exhausted, passed out on the couch in their own jerseys whilst you kept your eyes glued to the screen, engrossed in the result of a sport you didn’t care about over a year ago.
You saw that future in the way the twins babbled about Switzerland and how excited they were to go back and all the things they wanted to show you. You didn’t even know what the plan was for the offseason, when Nico would return back to Switzerland and have all his family there to help him out. You were too scared to ask.
You saw that future in the way that your life became so intertwined in theirs. They were always on your mind, even during your off days. You would be eating lunch with a friend and think about how Marley would hate the dish because the carrots were too big. You would throw on a playlist whilst cleaning your apartment and smile when a random Swiss song would start playing because Otto insisted it was better (which also meant that Nico was teaching him to say as much). You would be having tea with Nana and giggle a little to yourself at the chocolates she would offer because you knew chocolate snob Nico would not approve.
You saw that future in so many different ways and it made it a little hard to breathe the more you realised that you wanted it. You wanted it so fucking bad but it was March Madness and the twins’ birthday was coming up and there were a million other things that took priority over your lives than the growing feelings you had for this little family.
So, you bottled it up and pretended like you couldn’t hear Nana’s disappointed sigh in the back of your mind.
…
Nico had been jumpy since the start of the roadie.
Usually by this point of the year, the road trips were more of a nuisance and the boys were done with them. Everyone was bone tired, exhausted and injured in some capacity, pushing their bodies to unreal limits with a sense of urgency to just get on with playoffs. They were done with the regular season, they were done playing games that didn’t matter in the lead up to the Cup. They were getting a taste of a possible Cup run and they were eager to start it.
And Nico got that. He was usually one of them, letting the adrenaline and excitement for playoffs motivate him through the last stretch of regular season games. The travel days would usually be the time that he let himself catch as much sleep as he could whilst being pressed up against the bus window or sprawled out on a row of plane seats.
But he had been angsty since the first flight out, constantly checking his phone for updates that weren’t coming through. He was quiet and lost in his own head more often than not and it was concerning to the team. It took Jonas cornering him in the hotel lobby before he could run off for him to confess.
“The twins are sick,” he said with his lips turned down in a frown. “It’s nasty and they are barely sleeping and I just feel guilty for leaving Honey to deal with it alone.”
The sniffling had started a few days ago but the cold really hit last night. Neither one of them were settling down for bed, just whining and crying and fussing. Otto was complaining he was too hot. Marley was complaining she was too cold. One of them puked in the living room and the other in the bathtub after a heavy dinner that didn’t settle well in their sensitive stomachs.
It was carnage and he had to leave you completely alone with it.
You had reassured him multiple times that you would be fine, that you had dealt with multiple sick kids at once and this would be no different. But he couldn’t help but let the guilt eat him alive over the next few days.
He remembered what it was like trying to deal with the twins when they were sick at the same time and it was far from enjoyable. But even then, he had his mother or someone else nearby to help. He was never taking care of them completely alone for days on end like you were.
Nico knew he should have been more involved in the team bonding and dinners, that he should be hyping his boys up for the playoffs but he spent more time staring at his phone like he wanted to be prepared in case you messaged or called. Not that he would have been much help on the other side of the country.
He was practically itching out of his skin to get back home to you and the twins. The plane ride was torture, the minutes passing like hours and his body far too wired to even attempt to sleep (much to Jack’s dismay since he tended to use Nico as a pillow). He was practically sprinting off the plane the second they landed, making a mental note to make it up to his teammates somehow before playoffs started after they had to deal with his irritated mood for the last few days.
His body was moving on muscle memory as he drove back to the apartment, urging himself to stay under the speed limit and take his time. He knew you were home. He knew the twins were home. Him getting home in two minutes or twenty wouldn’t change that.
Nico was still running on pure adrenaline by the time he reached the front door, still panting from taking the stairs over the elevator as he pushed it open and quickly made his way inside. His bags were abandoned by the door and he opened his mouth to call out to the three of you when he froze the second he was in view of the living room.
He never really understood what people meant when they said they saw something so beautiful that they stopped in their tracks. Or at least, he never really understood until now. And he was aware that, to anyone else, there was nothing amazing or jaw dropping about the sight in front of him. But it meant everything to Nico.
Because it was late by the time they landed in New Jersey and he had accepted the possibility that everyone would be asleep. But here you were, sitting on his couch, waiting for him even though he could see the bags under your eyes and the way you were already starting to nod off. Because he knew the sweatpants and hoodie weren’t anything groundbreaking, but it was a Devils hoodie with his number on it and some old sweats of yours that had a mysterious stain on it (probably from one of the twins) but you wanted to wait for him instead of heading straight for a shower and your bed.
Because here you were, sitting on his couch after you had probably experienced the longest few days of your life taking care of two sick toddlers (his two sick toddlers), still giving him a sleepy smile as soon as he walked through the door like you were genuinely happy to see him, and he just couldn’t help but think he had never met or seen someone as beautiful as you—both inside and out.
“Are you okay?” You asked when he didn’t say anything, when he continued to stand in the middle of the room, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.
And, if Nico was logical and not sleep deprived, there was probably a part of him that would have remembered that it was late and that you were both tired and his emotional epiphanies could wait until the morning.
But Nico was not logical and he was very sleep deprived and he had spent the better part of the last few months fighting his team and himself over his feelings for you, and he was far too fucking tired to keep fighting them now.
Because he was staring at you from across the room and felt such a rush of warmth and relief and comfort knowing that he had you by his side and he couldn’t quite keep it in anymore.
“I think you look beautiful,” he blurted out without any further hesitation.
You paused, staring at him for a few moments as you processed his words before glancing down at yourself. “Uh, thanks?” You managed to mutter out through an awkward laugh. “Maybe not as much right now but—”
“I mean right now,” he said, his voice genuine and sincere and serious because apparently even sleep deprived Nico understood the importance of honesty. “And always. But especially now. And I feel very lucky that I get to come back home to you.”
Your eyes widened and your mouth was moving but no words were coming out.
“And you don’t have to say anything,” he continued because he was physically unable to stop himself, even taking a few steps closer to you as he did. “But you deserve to know.”
“You can’t say that,” you whispered, shaking your head at him.
His brows furrowed together. “Why not?”
“You can’t say stuff like that when you don’t mean it like—” But you cut yourself off, swallowing harshly as your gaze dropped down to your hands.
“Mean it like what?” Nico asked, his body still moving until he was kneeling on the ground in front of you, his hands on your knees as he ducked his head to catch your eye again.
“Nico,” you said his name so softly that it made his stomach twist.
“I meant what I said,” Nico said, his hands squeezing your knees as he spoke. “You look beautiful right now and every other day. I think it all the time and you deserve to hear it more. I think you are one of the best people I have ever met in my life.”
You let out a shuddering breath.
“And I think I’m reading this right,” his voice dropped to a whisper, something cautious and vulnerable written across his face. “And stop me if I’m not because the last thing I want is to make you feel uncomfortable or—”
You grabbed his face and kissed him before you could second guess yourself.
Despite the fact it wasn’t very long, Nico sunk into the kiss. He let himself lean into the touch, to savour the feeling of your hands cupping his face and your lips on his. He let himself enjoy the way your nose nudged against his as you pulled away, as you gave yourself enough space to rest your forehead against his.
“You’re not reading it wrong,” you assured him with a small, almost secretive smile. “But I didn’t think you would feel the same, especially with the twins—”
“Don’t worry about that just yet,” he murmured, letting his eyes fall shut as he enjoyed just how close you were to him. “They don’t have to know right away, we can take things slow. But I…I want to do this. I want to give us a try.”
You tried to bite back the grin threatening to take over your face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Nico grinned. “I want to see where this goes.”
“And if it goes wrong?” You dared yourself to ask.
But Nico didn’t seem particularly worried, twisting his hand so he could intertwine it with your own. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Honey, but we make a pretty good team. Best of the league. No doubts about us.”
You huffed out a laugh. “Does that make me your A?”
Nico snorted. “No way. We are co-captains. Equals.”
“Co-captains,” you agreed, nodding a little.
And there was still a lot more that needed to be discussed. Both of you knew that. But it was late and you were both tired and there was no rush to figure everything out just yet.
Becoming a father was one of the best things that happened to Nico Hischier. Meeting you was second. And maybe this year, he would add hoisting the Cup with his team as the third but only time would tell.
And, in the meantime, Nico was pretty damn happy with you and Otto and Marley—his perfect little family of four.
.
#nico hischier#nhl#new jersey devils#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier x you#nico hischier x y/n#nico hischier fic#nico hischier one shot#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot
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Lavender
A date that unfortunately doesn't go as planned. (autistic!reader - angst -> fluff)
Reverie series here as always! A verrrry real experience depicted in this one, with some amazing help from @pickledwoso that i am very grateful for, thank youuu <3
“Engel, are you ready to leave?” Alexia sang as she headed out of the bedroom towards where you were at the door rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, waiting for her.
“Yes, you fool, I've been ready for the past half hour.” You rolled your eyes at her teasingly, laughing when she lightly pawed at your side where she knew you were ticklish. “Come on! You're taking all day.”
“Ay, it is our day-off, I can take my time for once. No rushing, just calm, and me and you.” She gave an alluring smile, sliding her hand down your arm until she intertwined your fingers, then leaned forwards to kiss your forehead. “Are you excited?”
“Very. I love when we do this.” You told her with a squeeze of her hand. The girl grinned, her eyes brimming with excitement and complete happiness seeping from her pores, like the prospect of visiting a farmer's market with her girlfriend was as exciting as a third Ballon d’Or.
“Me too.” She gently knocked your chin up and pecked your lips before brushing back a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, are we ready, mi vida?”
“For the love of god, yes!”
Any time the club issued some days-off, one of the things highest on the list for yourself and Alexia was visiting the local farmer’s market. You’d buy the best of the best fresh organic products and cook together a dish of food that, combined with the quality time you'd spend with each other, would make for a night-in together that was so much better than going out somewhere.
These days had become somewhat of a tradition, and with it being the penultimate day of the short summer break after the tournament Alexia had gone to, it was absolute perfection. The last day had no plans apart from relaxing and spending time together before the season started again. You couldn't think of a better way to spend the last bit of time off than a date to a familiar, easy place with Alexia that was sure to give way for a fun afternoon and evening.
With it being the height of summer, Barcelona was especially warm, which was perhaps the first warning sign of the day.
“Ale, you really need to get your car in the garage, your AC sucks.” You groaned, the vents on full blast yet hardly doing a thing to cool you down against the 35 degree air outside. Your window was open and your head rested against the door dramatically, Alexia couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight even if she did feel a little bad about it.
“It’s got a service next week, they will fix it then. Sorry.” She winced, hardly breaking a sweat in the weather she was more than acclimated to whilst you seemed to be struggling before the pair of you had even left the car.
You shrugged her off because it's not exactly her fault her car's AC has been faulty since the spring, and focused all your attention on the life-saving breeze hitting your face as Alexia maneuvered through some tame midday traffic. Hot weather wasn't one of your favourite things in the world, as a matter of fact much more comfortable in minus degree weather with tiny icicles on your eyelashes, but a year into living under the blaze of the Barna sun you had no choice but to put up with it.
Though, your patience with the heat wore off quick. And in its wake, a simmering feeling of restlessness, which should have been yet another warning sign. But you were too deep in your determination for this to be a good day for anything to write you off.
The market was only a short drive away, the two of you having opted out of walking because, well, duh, the weather, and just as the sweat that found its place on your nose no more than five minutes after stepping out of your ice cold shower finally began to evaporate, it came crawling right back the second you got out of the car. Alexia was starting to feel uneasy about the day's plans, and, really, so were you, but you were set on pushing through the constrictive feeling that had settled in your bones when the first bit of heat came your way after leaving your flat. There wouldn't be much time in the coming weeks for a day like this with your girlfriend, you weren't about to wreck it for the both of you.
From where the car was parked to the entrance of the market, you walked in silence, hand in hand across slightly worn stone tiles until the rusted old gates of the park stood before you. Over the threshold of the entrance, paved tiles turning to cobble, you knew the chaos the market had in store for you. You didn’t know if you could handle it. The writing on the wall was in the prickly sensation in your skin that was all too familiar, as was the way every nerve in your body screamed in discomfort, almost like your soul was desperately trying to find a way out of your body.
You ignored it, and headed towards the stalls before Alexia could ask how you were.
This place was familiar; you knew the ins and outs of each stall, you knew where to go, you knew how long it took to get around. It shouldn’t be too hard, right?
You loved this place, of course it’d be fine. It beamed with energy, with good vibes, with good people. With its colourful displays of the finest fruit and vegetables, it was more than just a market; it was the heartbeat of the surrounding neigbourhoods.
All kinds of scents and aromas swirled around each corner, weaving themselves into the fabrics of people’s clothes and lingering long after they’d left. They were intoxicatingly good, and it was evident in the looks of wonder on everybody’s face, old or young, experienced shopper or recent newcomer. Vendors positioned at every stall or tattered wagon called out their offerings in a chaotic yet melodic mix of Spanish and Catalan, grabbing the nearest fruit or veg to wave around like an auctioneer with a hammer, the only use for it being to wave off the flies dancing tauntingly around their goods.
Locals haggled over prices with the farmers they’d come to know just as well as their own family; their loud and boisterous back-and-forth banter may have sounded like arguing to unknowing tourists, but to everyone else it was understood as just some good-humoured ribbing that they all delighted in. It was more of a shuffle than a walk throughout the place thanks to the tourists that seemed to stop in the middle of the aisles every second, clearly oblivious to the well-practiced dance of the locals. Elderly ladies pulled their clueless esposos around with one arm whilst they carried their wicker basket in the other, the woven willow groaning under the weight of the countless ingredients to be used in that night’s meal.
For a moment, as you paused off to the side whilst Alexia caught up with one of the stall owners, a fisherman with his catches of the week proudly on display, which you knew your girlfriend would end the conversation by buying enough fish meat to feed the five thousand, you took a moment to breathe. Everybody seemed relieved of their life’s burdens here, gathered closely in one space that was steeped in the essence of the world’s simplest pleasures; flavour, tradition, and community. Only, the smile that was usually imprinted on your face whenever you came was no more than a distant memory.
Despite the fairly shadowed area, considering the park was fenced in by sporadic trees that skimmed the roofs of buildings that showed off the city’s beautiful architecture, it was still insufferably hot. It radiated off of the ground, rebounded off the buildings around, and the flurry of structures meant there was no wind breaking through to give a cool Mediterranean breeze like you had before.
Alexia seemed none the wiser, enraptured by the surroundings like it was her first time there, her head on a swivel and marveling at the mouth-wateringly exceptional variety of things to choose from. You hadn’t really been taking it in, your eyes stuck to the back of her head as you followed her through, waiting on shaking legs whenever she laughed and joked with each worker she bought from.
This labyrinth of every cook’s dream was well and truly alive, but you weren’t. You couldn’t absorb the intense feeling of belonging and sonder you got whenever you came here. It was too much. The thought ate away at you, as with every fly that landed on your skin or every person that brushed against you, you became more and more on edge.
All the different smells, the different sounds, the crowd of people, they didn’t spark those usual feelings of contentment and peace that transpired for you normally. Instead, they felt oppressive, like they were attacking your senses.
The concoction of aromas forced themselves inside your nose and overloaded you completely, the squeamish smell of fish and the fiery linger of hundreds of kinds of herbs and spices bringing on a pounding headache. Every squeak of a wicker basket as the willow was put under more pressure could have been a gunshot for all you knew, the way it echoed around the tunnels of your ears. Anytime someone briefly put a hand on you as they moved past had you flinching, hating the unexpected contact as it was the last thing you needed in such a situation.
You didn’t find any comfort whatsoever in how Alexia’s hand never left yours for more than a minute, when normally it was something that grounded you. Her usually funny comments and little facts and point-outs of detail about her ‘second home’ (the name she had given it as she’d been coming here since she was young) didn’t make you feel any brighter, in fact you were pretty sure you missed most of them.
And as every minute passed, it appeared to get busier and busier, until it started to feel like you were in some kind of mosh pit, people bouncing off of you with every turn only for the next one to come along no more than a second later. You couldn’t hear a word Alexia was speaking, the once calming mix of languages turned into a booming echo of voices that were so close they seemed to be knocking on the bone of your skull, yet too distant for you to make out what anyone was saying, making it all so. much. worse.
Every voice, every footstep, every hearty laughter and every scrape of wood along the floor grated against your ears, all noises around amplified to immeasurable heights. The space was far too loud and far too crowded – each sensation you felt blurred into the next until it became impossible to separate from one another. But you did feel how each individual muscle tensed, from your legs to your shoulders, as Alexia continued to pull you through the market.
You were hyperaware of everything around you and it soon became unbearable. But Alexia was happy, she chatted away like nothing was happening, comfortable and content as her canvas bag brimmed with stuff you didn’t even realise she had bought. You soldiered on, or at least tried to.
Until, your breathing began to quicken, your lungs unable to take in any of the stuffy air you walked through, your chest tightening in a way that only caused you to panic impossibly more. Each piece of fabric from your clothes grazed against your skin like a hundred scratches in a single second, your shirt and shorts beginning to feel like they were getting tighter with each step you took. And when the claustrophobia, the feeling like there was no escape at all, began to really set in, the day was over.
Your resolve had completely eroded. You tried to focus on grounding yourself — reminding yourself this was a safe space, but that was an empty claim to make to your shredded composure. You tried convincing your mind that Alexia’s hand in yours was comforting, when it only felt constrictive, her hand wholly enveloping yours like a snake, leaving no room to breathe. You clenched and unclenched your fist in time with your breaths, but you couldn't even inhale for a second before your mind went into overdrive. All the tools you relied on before were inadequate in that moment. The rational part of your brain slipped away, instead replaced by an instinctive need to escape.
Surges of anger, panic, anxiety, fear, they all rose uncontrollably at once. Your jaw clenched, your free hand curled into a tight fist, and your vision turned hazy as your world dissolved into one indistinct blur.
The snapping point came abruptly. Perhaps it was a shrill laugh nearby, the clatter of a crate being dropped, or an impatient shove from someone trying to pass by. It was the smallest thing, but it tipped the scale far out of anybody’s control. You were alone in that moment. Trapped completely in your mind.
You missed how Alexia called your name over and over, how her hand nudged yours to desperately try to grasp your attention. It was only when her hands grabbed both your forearms that you were brought back down, but only for half a millisecond, before it all went south.
“What?!” You snapped at her, jumping back out of her touch.
As a result, there were about thirty pairs of eyes on you. Everybody around paused, your sharp shout cutting through the buzz of the market, and it went so quiet that every flutter of a fly’s wing and every creek of wood could be heard.
You took another step back when Alexia came towards you, a worrisome look on her face with her hands out in front of her like she was trying to not spook an untrusting animal in front of her. She rushed out some words of reassurance that fell into the background with all the other noises around that had picked up again, the market-goers losing interest in a seemingly harmless situation. They didn’t register within you, nor did her intentions. Your mind was far too good at playing tricks on you, convincing you of things that were far from the truth but in the moment felt like gospel.
There was no way out of where you were, both in the physical and the mental sense, and that was the main factor in the eruption that had just happened. With so many emotions coursing through you, there was an intense itch to find a release from them all. So before you realised, your arms crossed over your chest, hands on your upper arms just above your elbow, and you began to roughly palm, rub, grab at the skin there, needing a distraction from the volume of your mind and the world, whilst also desperately trying to get the movement to act as a release of the crushing press of the feelings inside of you.
If you were alone at that time, god only knows what would have happened. Fortunately you weren’t.
The next time Alexia touched you was the featherlight weight of her hand on your lower back, the minor contact enough to lead you through the winding paths of the market. Your legs ran on autopilot, but you stumbled with every few steps, eyes too blurry to see the bumps and dips in the cobbles underneath your feet. There were probably tears down your face, though you’d reached such a broken point that your body was just… numb. You weren’t in control of anything anymore, hadn’t been for a while, but this was a new extremity. You weren’t even present in your own mind. Just an innocent, unknowing passenger in the car crash that had come out of nowhere.
Somehow, with her own hands trembling from concern, Alexia managed to lead you out of the chaos of the market to those same rusted, paint-chipped gates from earlier— the entrance of the park area. She was lost on what to do or say, but rationally she knew the only thing that would work for you right now was getting you home.
“I will drive us back to your flat, back home, okay?”
You gave her no indication that you heard her, which she was expecting, though you had heard the one word you were in dire need of and it was the first thing so far that managed to break through into your overwhelmed mind. Your hands were still moving roughly against the skin of your arms, sure to leave marks afterwards, but Alexia knew if she attempted to stop you, it’d only make matters worse. She had to get you home. Seeing you like this was breaking her.
It took a concerningly small amount of effort to guide you to the car; you were pliant and mindless, the exhaustion having fully taken over the minute you left the crowded space. She opened the door for you, helped you into the seat, and put the belt on. You leaned your head back against the seat rest and stared straight ahead. Whether it’d help or not, Alexia wasn’t sure. But she had to do one thing, more for the sake of her sanity than yours. With a quiet call of your name, she gently put a hand under your chin and turned you so you faced her.
“I’ll take you home and look after you. You will be okay.” She whispered, tentatively brushing away some of the tears still on your cheeks with her thumb. Her words were a sentiment for her as much as they were for you. “You’ll be okay soon.”
—
Next thing you knew, you were in your bed, lay on your side with your weighted blanket over you and Alexia nowhere to be seen.
It was definitely the calm after the storm. The room was mostly dark apart from the light that bled through the curtains which were closed, you could hear the quiet whir of the AC as well as the dull hum of traffic on the street below, but that was about it. It was a stark contrast to how things were before.
You don’t exactly remember getting home after what happened after the market, but what you did know was that though Alexia wasn’t in the room, she had been at some point, because you felt her love in the way she made sure everything was properly set up for you. The AC hadn’t been on before you left earlier and it only could have come back on by someone turning it on. The curtains were open that morning, whereas now they were drawn. And last time you checked, your blanket was still in the dryer, waiting to be taken out when you got back.
Everything you felt earlier still echoed faintly inside your head and chest, but the weighted blanket over you helped to anchor you back to your life again, rather than the chaos you were drowning in not so long ago. Your mind was convoluted, thoughts jumbled, and you flitted from one shattered fragment of insecurity to the other. You were simply too exhausted to hold onto any of them, emotionally and mentally drained. Though, you still tried to identify what you were feeling— was it anger? Shame? Embarrassment? You couldn’t put a finger on it.
Your hands still shook, your chest still shuddered with every breath. Your clothes still felt scratchy and overbearing, just less so now that you lay in the aftermath of it all. Instead of focusing on that, you drifted your attention to the feeling of the blanket on you; you focused on its texture, its softness, the heaviness of it and how it draped over you and helped to extinguish the flame that was overstimulation and overwhelm. These small but familiar details offered a tiny foothold in the mirror maze of your mind that you were still trying to escape from, only for the ruined reflection of you at the market to be shown back to you.
The longer you spent in that position, a deep, bone-level weariness quietly consumed you, like every aspect of you right down to your soul had been drained. But even still, your mind continued its hyperactive ways, replaying the day’s events over and over like a faulty film reel. The memory of it isn’t the slightest bit cohesive, it was just flashes of moments— the suffocating press of people from every direction, clamour of voices, the overloading mixture of scents. You alternated between frustration and exasperation, wanting to desperately forget what happened whilst not being able to move on from the embarrassment of it.
However, the strain of it slowly began to dissipate with each minute you spent back at home in bed, a safe space where there were no expectations, where time was temporarily unimportant, and where there were no watchful eyes or scathing glares at the disruption you’d caused. And eventually, you felt like you had gained back control of your mind again. It was quieter then; the world felt muted, less aggressive, though you could feel that you were still wary of your surroundings because of how everything ambushed you earlier.
You weren’t fully recovered, you still felt heavy and your body ached due to the tension in your muscles and joints when it all came falling down, and you weren’t sure how much time had passed but the sun sat a little lower on the horizon when you finally felt able to get out of bed. The desire for time alone had gone, you needed something else then, and at this point of the relationship you felt comfortable enough to seek exactly what you needed without giving it a second thought.
The door to your room creaked like it always did when you opened it, your apartment mostly silent save for the occasional huff from the kitchen as the person you were looking for busied herself with any chore she could think of as she waited patiently for you.
You didn’t quite know what to say, but one of the best things about your relationship was that often in times like this, words weren’t a necessity. So you bypassed her and headed straight for the sofa, sitting in the corner and curling your feet underneath you, almost like you were making yourself as small as possible. And, just as you expected, not a minute went by before the blonde headed over, trying to disguise the worry she felt by giving a tight-lipped smile that was more on the amusing side than the reassuring one.
When she sat down, however, she left a gap between you both and perched only on the edge, which wasn’t what you wanted. One shared glance later and Alexia was smiling properly this time, shuffling to sit back against the cushions and beckoning you over with a small wave of her hand. With a sheepish but slightly triumphant look on your face, you moved along the couch and chose to sit sideways on her lap, one of her arms immediately wrapping around your waist as the hand of the other landed just above your knee. She pulled you close to her, and you settled into her with a relieved sigh, indescribably glad to have the final piece of the puzzle to self-regulation in your possession.
For some time, the pair of you didn’t speak, only relishing in the comfort you both needed after the day that had been had. At some point, Alexia noticed the redness to your skin from earlier and subconsciously brought a hand up to one of your arms, her thumb gently tracing over them with a frown on her face. She felt compelled to speak then.
“Please, engel, don’t put yourself through uncomfortable situations just to make me happy. If you asked me to, I would have taken you home earlier in a heartbeat.” The midfielder said carefully, panicking a little when she heard you sigh before calming when you buried your face in her neck.
“I didn’t really know it was going to be uncomfortable until it was already happening.” You told her in a mumbled, downbeat tone that made her hug you tighter against her. She contemplated her next words, wondering whether it was wise to voice them or not, before deciding that you’d hate it if you found out she’d kept her feelings from you.
“I’ve never seen you like that before.” Her fear and sadness was evident when she spoke, matching the frown still on her face and the furrow to her brow. You pressed your lips to the skin of her jaw in a somewhat apologetic gesture, which made her feel a little bad. “We’re both okay though, mi amor. I love you and we’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, this isn’t your fault. I don’t want you to feel guilty. It’s over now, it’s in the past, and we’re here together now.”
It might have been a minor reminder, but it relieved a lot of the remaining anxieties and insecurities you had. Even though she made sure you knew she never judged you for anything, you were only human, and sometimes the devil on your shoulder got the best of you. So, to hear her say she knew it wasn’t your fault and that she wasn’t angry, it was… very needed.
The mix of physical touch and words of affirmation never failed to work wonders for you. The period of time after an event like earlier was a delicate time to say the least, where your mind and your self-esteem was easily swayed by whatever reaction waited for you afterwards. Having Alexia be so welcoming, non-judgemental, caring and adoring even after what she’d witnessed made a world of a difference.
“Better day tomorrow?” You said shyly after moving back to look at her. She shook her head at first, which greatly confused you, before she smiled brightly, softly, reassuringly, and leaned forwards to kiss your temple.
“Better evening tonight after a bad day. And then a very good day tomorrow.” Her words were a little skewed, probably lost in translation, but you understand what she was getting at and it warmed your heart all the same.
It was important to you then, that you voiced your thoughts from just a moment ago. She had to know how important she was to you.
“Thank you, Ale. For everything.” You started, laughing quietly at the puzzled expression on her face. “You always know what to do, what to say. You always make me feel better after a day like this and I don’t know how you do it but… you changed my life.”
Her reaction was the sweetest. Her cheeks blushed red and she turned away for a moment with a tiny disbelieving shake of her head.
“I don’t know about that, cariño.” She murmured, but you weren’t having it. You put a hand on her cheek and turned her face back to you, ensuring she met your gaze before you spoke again.
“You did. I really mean it. I think about it a lot, how you’ve changed me, how I see myself because of you and how you treat me.” You paused for a moment, smiling up at her as her eyes silently urged you to continue. “I… value myself more because of how you value me. I don’t tell you enough how grateful I am for you and what you really mean to me. You’re the greatest person I have ever met.”
The normally sure and confident captain was rendered speechless in that moment, completely caught off guard and lost for words. How she could ever match the gravity and beauty of your words, she didn’t know. But they meant so much more to her than she knew she could ever express.
Ale ducked her head down for a moment as she really took in your words, before she lifted it back up again a moment later, with tears in her eyes.
If only you knew how much you meant to her too.
“You’re my favourite person in the world, you know that?” She said with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow, almost accusing you of foolishly being uncertain about the fact that she stated so definitively. You knew she only did that to deflect the softness of her words a little. So, you just smiled, and tucked your head back into her neck and closed your eyes, completely at peace. “My favourite person in the whole world. You changed my life too.”
—
i really really tried my best to encapsulate the autistic experience of being overstimulated and overwhelmed in such a place here but i have no idea how well it comes across to a large audience. but for me and probably others, this is the reality, no matter how much you can plan and prepare and be excited for something, it can spiral out of your control so quickly and it's definitely a downer when it happens. hope this is somewhat understandable, im gonna go hibernate out of fear now, thank you v much for reading :)
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Dear CJ,
I saw your post about needing Tommy bent over a table and I have to say that I too need this and I was wondering if you felt it in your heart to provide your thirsty fans, like me, with some more Bottom!Tommy? I feel you wanting him bent over a table would add to the hotness.
Thank you if you do write it,
Love,
Me!
A new addition to my Spite series! Read below or on ao3
Tommy's not exactly sure how he ended ass up with his face pressed against the dining room table, but it was hard to think of anything with three of Buck's fingers working their way inside of him.
"Uh, uh, uh," he panted, gripping onto the sides of the table as Buck twisted his hand on each thrust. "Ev- Evan, ohyesplease, Evan."
"That feel good, Baby?" Buck asked, his free hand pressing down at the small of Tommy's back.
"Uhhhh, uh-huh." There was a little puddle of drool just below Tommy's mouth. His whole body felt tingly. Cool where it laid against the table, but the rest of him burned like fire in the best way.
"You wanna come on my fingers or my cock?"
"Fuck," Tommy whined, voice just above a whisper. "Fuck. Shit, yeah."
Buck laughed, patting his hand against Tommy's thigh. "Babe, you hear me?"
"Mmm," Tommy pushed himself back on Buck's fingers as he stilled inside of him. "I'll do it. I'll work for it, Evan, yeahyeahyeah."
Once it was clear that Tommy wasn't paying attention to a word Buck was saying, Buck pulled his fingers out of Tommy entirely.
The sound that escaped Tommy's mouth was something akin to a puppy being crate trained. Hands still firmly gripped to the table, he lifted his head enough to look back at Buck.
"What... Why?"
Buck ran his hands up and down Tommy's back, kneading into the muscle. "You weren't listening to me," Buck informed him, leaning down to press a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Wanted to make sure you were still here."
"I'm here, I'm here," Tommy sighed, wiggling his ass against Buck. "What did you want?"
Buck snorted. "I asked if you wanna come on my fingers or my cock."
"Cock, I- I want your cock, please," Tommy pled. "Put it in me, come in me, make it drip down my legs."
"Fuck, Tommy." Buck grabbed the lube off the table and slicked up his cock before holding onto Tommy's hips and lining himself up.
He was gonna go slow, but Tommy had other plans. The second he felt the head of Buck's cock inside him, he pushed back until Buck was all the way in.
"Fuck!" Buck exclaimed, nearly coming right then and there. "Shit, Tommy, you're really desperate for it, aren't you?"
Tommy managed to hold onto the table tight enough to pull up and give himself some leverage. He used that leverage to begin working himself up and down Buck's cock. "For you," he replied, his own cock dripping with precum, "Always."
#bucktommy#tommy kinard#911#evan buckley#911 abc#yall gotta start telling me when i use the wrong word I just realized I think I've been using plead instead of pled
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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 06/01✨
Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~
Anonimo ha chiesto: Do the little monkeys on Flower Fruit mountain ever see at Wukong and Macaque bickering like an old married couple and think to themselves 'just kiss already'?
Yes. They keep doing and Wukong tries to stop them otherwise Macaque could hear them (he already does)
Anonimo ha chiesto: Been reading up on Macaque Body Language and found this: "A peculiar behaviour displayed by macaques is lip smacking. Between macaques, lip smacking is used to show submission, affection and reconciliation. This behaviour is a form of communication and is sometimes accompanied with cooing vocalisations and mild raising of eyebrows." So now I can't stop imaging Monkey King and Macaque just smacking lips and raising eyebrows to each other instead of saying "I love you" or after a fight just smacking lips and then hugging. But then I also started questioning, do the two monkeys in your AU actually use monkey body language to communicate? Or is it just human language they use? Great work on your AU btw! Loving the art and story ^^
Mm some? Like a little but not too much. But that’s an adorable trivia!!
Does macaque know about Wukong's stage fright?👀
Yes.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Baby MK lives in my head rent free. If Wukong or Macaque were trappen in the calabash than their perfect world would be one where they could raise mk without him having to fight or get hurt and traumatized
I THINK the fanfiction series Squashed Apricots is just about this if it can interest you.
@abbytheslothwitch ha chiesto: In your AU or your general opinion, which monkey dad is the taller one; Wukong or Macaque?
Macaque
Anonimo ha chiesto: The way you draw Pigsy honestly is one of the best I've seen I mean just look at him!!! He doesn't have the proportions of a regular human because he's not human and it works so well! I dunno he just looks cool in your artstyle and design That all I had to say :]]]]
Thank you so much!!!♥️♥️♥️ He’s honestly quite hard to draw exactly bc of that, but it’s good practice! Him and DBK are generally harder, I’m not super used to draw animals.
@peach-fury ha chiesto: Ello! Sorry, it's me again But just had a thought, sense Macaque has died and went to Dìyù or the underworld. (I think that's were the book of death is) Wouldn't he be at least scared or nervous to go back? Idk like bad memories like their fight or the lady bone demon or something? Idk maybe overthinking or that I just like angsty :P (P.s I fricking love your art and your AU's so much!!!!)
Yes. I believe he wouldn’t like the idea. I like to think he”s actually terrified. But he wouldn’t care less if it means to protect and help his baby.
Anonimo ha chiesto: will MK try to try change his name into nobody or something form of loophole name so that can be like ohhhh nobody us in trouble! Everyone is safeeee! And nezha’s dad is like wait no
Ahah that’s a good idea! Unfortunately that isn’t the plan
Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out we know Wukong made the bed because he made it bigger. It's made out of peach tree wood. And carved moon and suns and stars on the headboard.
AWWWW!!😭😭😭😭😭
@a1teruniverse ha chiesto: What's the hardest panel you've drawn
It is a panel if it’s an animation?
Anonimo ha chiesto: Will u ever do flash backs for shadowpeach thats “happy” like them first meeting realizing there in love a jealous mac courtnapping the monkey king just being young and in love.
Mmm yeah i wanna do smth like that. Don’t know when or how but i wanna.
Anonimo ha chiesto: does Wukong ever/will ever let glamours down and let like everything hang out like Mac would come in and his husband just causally has his boobs out and he’s like sweet my husband got hotter bc he’s pan(?) like I think you said that in an earlier post
I mean. I don’t think he has any issues dropping his glamours in front of macaque. I don’t think he would stay too much without his glamours bc still, I guess he would have some slight dysphoria. Also I mean, yeah Macaque loves him with or without boobies. But if Wukong could choose he would prefer not to have them out if he can.
Anonimo ha chiesto: which bottle is every ship in your lmk comic chugging? (I’m talking about your red bubble stickers for ao3 tags I would find it but I’m lazyyyh)
Shadowpeach is hurt & comfort (which I saw now I didn’t uploaded but yeah I got that one as well.), slowburn, enemies to lovers, and angst cause- duh.
Spicynoodle I would say is fluff, oneshot, enemies to lovers, found family.
Anonimo ha chiesto: im so embarrassed to ask about this but, later when mk and red boy r dating, who would ask the other first on a date? What would the date be? Also what does dbk and pif personal opinion of their relationship? SORRY IF THIS HAS BEEN ASKED BEFORE😭
I think MK, because dates are something a little more human, and cause Red Son is a workaholic. It can either be something like a training session, a videogame session at Red castle, or just also the traffic light trio being competitive. DBK and PIF are supporting, mostly bc they know their family will be even more powerful with an union such as theirs. Of course PIF is supporting also cause MK is Mac baby.
@kandymaneuwu ha chiesto: On a scale of 1 to 10 how fluffy is macaque this is very important
10 with merits
@5hadowm0ch1 ha chiesto: When will Shadowpeach kiss? It's always head-to-head Pats (I'm trying to predict what happening)
b-b-b-b-b- but head-to-head pats are cute…
@majesticgazell ha chiesto: Ooohhh I’m just imagining Li Jing catching wind of the plan and activating MK’s fillet while he’s in the shadows… maybe he wouldn’t lose himself under normal circumstances, but with that thing tightening around his head? 👀 Just a thought
Hehe, isn’t that a possibility?
@nataszaluiz ha chiesto: So I have a few questions. First: do you plan on ending it before Season 6 releases or do you plan on continuing it and mixing it up with your AU? Second: have you heard theories that a fragment of Azure's Soul is placed in the blue flower that appears after it's sacrifice? Third: Will characters like Yellowtusk and Peng appear in your AU?
S6 seems to either happen next year or never, so I ve3ry much hope i finish my story sooner.
no i haven’t
mmmm i don’t know
@cheddarcheesebiscuit1 ha chiesto: I gotta ask, if MK would to ever get injured in his monkie form, then would Macaque/Wukong try to take him to a human doctor or a vet?
I know we all want to see Macaque and Wukong freaking out when their baby is sick, but I think we forget sometimes that, even though they aren’t medics, Wukong has a basic understanding how to heal wounds and medicine. Macaque is head-canoned many times to be an expert in fact. And I think there are demons/demonic doctors in case MK has some kind of curse or demonic sickness, which would be what actually makes them worry in the first place.
@ainnur ha chiesto: Mei and Wukong team up?! Wasabi Duo the party crasher🎉✨ Love them💕 They need more love as a duo
Their name IS WASABI DUO????????? AAAWWWWWW
@sleeo-goos10 ha chiesto: Hi kyri! Thank you for sparking my LMK hyper fixation and I’m really curious: Will we get more Nezha? How will he react knowing that the Buddha approved this? IF the Buddha approved it at all 👀
Yes you will have plenty of Nezha. Also if youo guys really want to know, yeah, the Buddha themself approved of this. No, Li Jing wasn’t lying.
@saphstories ha chiesto: KYRI PLEASE IF I ASK FOR NOTHING ELSE I NEED TO SEE HELICOPTER AUNT PIF AND UNCLE DBK IN THAT FIGHT BECAUSE *HEAVEN DID WHAT TO THEIR NEPHEW???* And I'm sorry but of freaking course Red Son being the brat he is would call Mommy and Daddy to tattle about how mean Heaven is for stealing his Monkey before he could. 😂😂 Can you tell how insane the extended Monkey Fam makes me? 😂😂😂 I love this AU, I can't wait to see more!
When they heard the news they wanted to come to help attack the palace as well, but Red Son stopped them saying smt like “HE IS MY FUTURE HOUSBAND AND I GET TO KIDNAP HIM OUT OF HEAVEN MOM!”
@anxiousbb-witch ha chiesto: Do I have a reason to fear the possibilities of the golden headband being used on MK and all the emotions and tears coming from it?
oh year, absolutely.
Anonimo ha chiesto: I just have the funny thought that MK woke up one morning in his true form and get jumpscared by looking at himself and see he has boobs again
nooouuuu poor baby! But yeah it’s a funny image
@monkieshad0w ha chiesto: HELLOO HELLOO! What’s ur opinion on sundial duo :D (if you don’t know what sundial duo is, it’s basically Macaque and Wukong being duos and besties but not lovers) :3
oohhh well I do live any pf my ships as besties as well! Platonic love is just as important as romantic one for me personally!
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Hide Away
Dr. Phosphorus x GN!Reader
Summary: Dr. Phosphorus has you feeling things. You are sure these feelings are one-sided, but after hiding from your feelings you come to realize that is not true.
CW: Suggestive themes, 18+, dry humping, biting, you get freaky in a closet, rick refers to you as kid, you are immune to dr phosphorus but no other details of how/what you are is given, no beta.
WC: 0.8k
A/N: divider by cafekitsune. this is just a random idea; I wanted to get freaky in a closet with the skeleton thus this was born. I do plan on making maybe a little series for phosphorus x reader... And maybe a p2 for this with maybe a fem and male reader... idk I'm bouncing ideas around right now. Also, side note, I've only ever written reader inserts or character x oc, and this show has me wanting to do character x character fics... anyway, let's goooo!
You were crumbling. Fast.
You watched Dr. Phosphorus from across the room. Your eyes wandered from his face to his ribs, down to his belt. You needed to know what he was like. What he felt like. You needed him.
“Are you okay?” Nina nudged you.
“Uh,” You looked away from the man you were swooning over. You were hot. Everything was so hot. “I just need some fresh air.”
You turned away from Nina and walked down the hall. As you continued, thoughts plagued you. The glances you would share with Phosphorus, the small touches here and there. It was driving you insane. You figured you could not say anything. So you kept your thoughts to yourself.
You, on autopilot, found a closet and quickly entered it. You needed to get your mind off of him, and immediately. Once you realized you were in a fucking closet, you had to think of a gameplan to get to your room. Maybe you could handle the situation yourself.
You sat down, back against the wall, and shut your eyes tight. The only source of light coming into the room was from under the door. Other than that, you sat in the dark. You sucked in air and placed your head in your hands. Your world was spinning, leaving you to not notice the door opening.
“This is your idea of getting some fresh air?” The closet door shut and suddenly it was not completely dark in the room. You could definitely make out Dr. Phosphorus.
“Oh!” You jumped and tried to scoot further back but realized you could not get any closer to the wall. “I was just- I’m thinking!” You ended up snapping at him.
“About…-”
You could not handle it anymore. “About you!” You tried to keep your voice down. You groaned and hugged yourself. “It’s always you…” You huffed. “I want- No, I need to know what it’s like-”
“What do you need to know?” Oh, he was smug.
“Everything!” You stood up and looked at him, really looked at him. “I want to feel you; I want you to touch me! Dr. Phosphorus-”
“Call me Alex.” He corrected you.
Your face was burning now. Your eyes widened and you sucked in air. “Alex,” You were begging, “I need you.”
You thought he was smug before. He stepped towards you and his hands reached for you. “Are you sure?” He sounded like he was trying hard to compose himself. To keep himself from pouncing on you.
You nodded, “I’ve never needed anything more in my entire fucking life.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Dr. Phosphorus grabbed you. His hands grabbed your hips, and he pulled you close to him. You were pressed against the wall, and he stared at you. At least, you were sure that was what he was doing. “Can I kiss you?” You begged.
“Please.” It was his turn to beg. You kissed him, gently on the cheek. You began to pepper kisses across his face and your eyes shut. You moved slightly, getting a better angle, and Dr. Phosphorus moaned. His grip on you tightened and you rubbed your hips into his. He let out a whine.
It was music to your ears.
“I’ve been thinking about you too.” His voice was husky. “Every time you laugh-” He continued, and you stopped kissing him and your head fell back from pleasure, “-and you lean back, I just want to-” He could not control himself anymore. His hips bucked into yours while you kept grinding against him and his teeth scraped your throat.
An airy noise escaped you and your eyes shut tight. You grabbed his coat and held on, knuckles turning colors from your grip. “Do that again. Please, Alex.” You whined. Dr. Phosphorus obliged. His teeth biting at your exposed skin, dragging from your throat to your collarbone.
Chills ran up your spine and you moaned. A little too loudly.
A fist banged on the closet door and neither of you responded. The door swung open. “What the fuck!?” Rick shouted. You ignored him. You felt too good to care.
Dr. Phosphorus kept grinding against you, his grip on you becoming bruising. And then, suddenly, there was nothing. Dr. Phosphorus was ripped from you and thrown out of the closet. You stood there, shocked and horny.
“We’ll continue this later,” Dr. Phosphorus reassured you.
Rick ran a hand through his hair and groaned. “Not in a fucking closet you won’t!” He snapped. “Come on out, kid.” He motioned for you to leave the closet.
“Can I get some fresh air now?” You looked at Rick in a daze.
“As long as you don’t get caught with him outside.” Rick glared at Dr. Phosphorus.
You nodded. You definitely needed to think. And, if Phosphorus was not pulling your leg about continuing later, you could wait for release.
#creature commandos#dr phosphorus#dr phosphorus x reader#alexander sartorius#creature commandos x reader#dc comics x reader#dc smut#dc x reader#dr phosphorus smut
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Bored
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 - Turning Your Goodbyes Into Hellos
Ningning x Fem!Reader
Word Count: ca. 9,5k
Synopsis: After breaking Y/N’s heart out of fear, Ningning fights to prove her love.
Notes: And with that the series comes to an end.
English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
The secluded garden on campus was a hidden gem, lined with blooming flowers and shaded by a canopy of trees that swayed gently in the breeze. The soft rustling of leaves filled the air, accompanied by the occasional chirp of birds and the distant hum of student chatter from elsewhere on campus. It was the kind of place where time seemed to slow down, a sanctuary for anyone seeking a quiet moment of reflection.
But today, the stillness of the garden only amplified the tension that hung in the air.
Ningning stood by the small bench in the center, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her bag. Her eyes darted around the garden, taking in the vibrant flowers and the neatly trimmed hedges, but none of it registered. Her mind was consumed by the knot of anxiety twisting in her stomach, a storm that had been brewing since Yunjin and Chaewon told her the plan.
She glanced down at her phone for what felt like the hundredth time, the screen glaring up at her with the same unchanging numbers. She was early, of course. She always was when her nerves got the better of her. But even the reassurance of being on time did nothing to calm the whirlwind of thoughts racing through her head.
What if Y/N refuses to listen? What if I make things worse?
Her thumb hovered over the lock screen before she pocketed the phone, taking a shaky breath. She ran her hands through her hair, the familiar motion doing little to soothe her.
The crunch of footsteps on the gravel path broke through her spiraling thoughts, and her heart leaped into her throat.
Yunjin and Chaewon appeared first, their voices low as they exchanged casual conversation. From a distance, they might have looked relaxed, but Ningning could see the tension in their shoulders, the way their eyes darted briefly to her before quickly looking away.
Trailing just behind them was Y/N.
Ningning’s breath hitched.
Y/N’s head was tilted slightly as she laughed at something Chaewon said, the sound light and unguarded. It was a sound Ningning hadn’t realized how much she missed until now. Her hair caught the sunlight filtering through the trees, casting a warm glow around her. She moved with an effortless grace, and for a moment, Ningning felt like time had slowed to a crawl.
Everything about her was achingly familiar, the way she brushed her hair behind her ear, the way her laughter bubbled up like music, the easy confidence in her stride. Ningning’s chest tightened, the sight of her stirring a mix of emotions so overwhelming she couldn’t move.
The weight of regret crashed over her. How could she have been so foolish to let this go?
But then Y/N’s gaze landed on her.
The laughter stopped abruptly, her expression shifting from relaxed to confused. Her steps slowed as she took in the sight of Ningning, her eyes narrowing slightly.
And then the confusion gave way to something sharper.
Y/N’s features hardened, her eyes narrowing as her lips pressed into a thin line. “What is she doing here?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the stillness of the garden like a blade. There was no mistaking the edge of hurt beneath the sharpness, a wound still raw and bleeding.
Yunjin shifted uncomfortably, clearing her throat as if trying to ease the tension. “We thought you two should talk,” she said carefully, her words deliberate but strained. “You can yell at us later, but for now—”
“You thought wrong,” Y/N interrupted, her tone icy and resolute. She turned on her heel, her movements quick and final, but before she could leave, Chaewon reached out, her fingers wrapping gently around Y/N’s arm.
“Y/N,” Chaewon said softly, her voice calm but insistent. “Just hear her out. Please.”
Y/N stiffened, her shoulders tensing under Chaewon’s touch. Her gaze darted to Yunjin, then back to Chaewon, frustration flickering across her face. Slowly, she exhaled, the sound heavy with reluctance, and she turned back toward Ningning.
Her expression was guarded now, her arms crossing over her chest like a barrier. “Fine,” she said curtly, her voice cold and distant. “Say what you need to say.”
Ningning hesitated, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain they could hear it. Every carefully rehearsed word she had practiced the night before vanished from her mind, replaced by the suffocating weight of Y/N’s gaze.
“I... I’m sorry,” Ningning stammered, her voice trembling as she took a hesitant step forward. “For everything. For the way I ended things. For hurting you.”
Y/N’s laugh was bitter and harsh, devoid of any warmth. She shook her head slowly, disbelief etched across her features. “Sorry? That’s it? You think ‘sorry’ fixes anything?”
“No,” Ningning said quickly, panic rising in her chest as she shook her head. “I know it doesn’t. But I need you to know I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Y/N’s eyes narrowed further, her arms tightening around herself as though she needed the extra protection. “Then what did you mean, Ningning? Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you didn’t mean anything at all. None of it was real, was it?”
The words struck Ningning like a physical blow. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground beneath her had shifted. “No,” she said frantically, stepping closer, her voice thick with desperation. “That’s not true. It was real, everything was real.”
Y/N scoffed, her lips curving into a bitter smile as she took a step back. “Then why did you do it?” she demanded, her voice rising with each word. “Why did you act like I was nothing? Like we were nothing?”
Ningning’s chest ached, the dam of her emotions finally breaking. Her voice cracked as she replied, “Because I was scared. I was scared of how much I felt for you, scared of what it meant. I thought... I thought if I pushed you away, it would hurt less than admitting how much I cared. But it didn’t. It hurts every day.”
Y/N’s expression faltered, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the anger. But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by a steely resolve. She shook her head, her voice trembling with a mix of sadness and frustration.
“I can’t do this, Ningning,” Y/N said, her tone softer now but no less resolute. “I can’t keep letting you hurt me.”
She turned sharply, her steps hurried and unsteady as she made her way toward the garden’s exit. Ningning’s heart lurched, panic overtaking her as she reached out instinctively, her hand catching Y/N’s wrist.
“Wait,” Ningning pleaded, her voice cracking under the weight of her desperation.
Y/N froze but didn’t turn around.
Ningning stepped closer, her grip gentle but firm. “Please, just... don’t walk away.”
Y/N turned slightly, her profile illuminated by the soft sunlight filtering through the trees. Her face was a battlefield of emotions, anger, hurt, and something Ningning couldn’t quite name. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her lips trembling as she finally spoke.
“Why?” Y/N asked, her voice breaking. “So you can hurt me again? So you can make me believe in something that’s not real? To write another song about us?”
The words landed like blows, each one slicing through Ningning’s defenses. Her breath hitched as she absorbed the pain in Y/N’s voice, every syllable dripping with betrayal.
“Y/N,” Ningning said, her voice trembling, “it wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it?” Y/N demanded, turning fully to face her now. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, like she was holding her very being together. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like I was just another story for you to tell. Another chapter for your music.”
The accusation stung, but Ningning shook her head, her eyes stinging with tears of her own. “No. You were never just a story to me.”
Y/N scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Then what was I, Ningning? Because I can’t keep doing this, can’t keep letting you mess with my head and my heart.”
Ningning’s chest tightened painfully. Her hands trembled at her sides as she took a hesitant step closer, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “You were everything to me.”
Y/N froze, her eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge the sincerity in Ningning’s words.
“You are everything to me,” Ningning continued, her voice soft but urgent. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.”
The confession hung in the air, raw and unpolished, the vulnerability of it making Ningning feel both exposed and relieved. She took another step forward, her heart pounding as she continued.
“I didn’t know how to handle it,” Ningning admitted, her tears spilling freely now. “I was scared, terrified even, because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I thought pushing you away would make it easier, that I could run from it and make the feelings go away. But they didn’t.” She placed a trembling hand over her chest. “They’ve only grown. Every day, I miss you. Every moment, I regret what I did. You’re all I think about, and it kills me to know how much I hurt you.”
Y/N’s expression softened, the anger in her eyes flickering into something more conflicted. But the pain was still there, etched into every line of her face.
“You don’t get to do this,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. “You don’t get to break my heart and then come back saying you’re in love with me like that makes it all better.”
“I know,” Ningning said, her voice barely above a whisper. She stepped closer again, tentatively reaching up to cup Y/N’s cheek. “I know it doesn’t fix anything. But I need you to know it’s the truth.”
Y/N’s breath hitched as Ningning’s touch lingered, her emotions swirling visibly in her gaze.
“I love you,” Ningning whispered again, her voice steady now despite the tears streaming down her face. “And I’ll spend every day proving it to you if you let me.”
Y/N stared at her, her lips parting slightly as if to respond, but no words came. Her tears finally spilled over, and she closed her eyes as if trying to shield herself from the weight of the moment.
Acting on instinct, Ningning leaned in and kissed her.
The kiss wasn’t planned or practiced, it was raw, a collision of emotions she could no longer contain. Her lips pressed against Y/N’s with a desperate tenderness, pouring every ounce of love and regret she felt into the gesture.
For a moment, Y/N froze. Ningning could feel the tension in her, the hesitation. But slowly, Y/N softened, her hands hovering near Ningning’s shoulders before she pulled away.
Her eyes met Ningning’s, wide and filled with a kaleidoscope of emotions, confusion, hurt, longing, and a glimmer of something Ningning dared to hope was belief.
“I don’t know if I can trust you,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling as she stepped back, tears still streaming down her cheeks.
Ningning’s heart shattered at the words, but she nodded, her hands falling to her sides. “I know,” she said quietly, her voice thick with sorrow. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to earn it. I’m not giving up on you, Y/N. Not this time.”
Y/N’s gaze lingered on Ningning, her emotions a storm of confusion, hurt, and something Ningning hoped was longing. Her tears shimmered in the soft sunlight as she pulled away, taking a step back, her breath unsteady.
“If you really want me,” Y/N said, her voice trembling but firm, “Then prove it, Ning. I don’t know how I can trust you now.”
Ningning’s heart sank, the weight of the ultimatum pressing heavily on her chest. She searched Y/N’s face, desperate to say something, anything, that would make things right in that moment. But no words came.
Y/N took another step back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively. “I can’t do this unless I know you mean it. All of it.”
Her voice cracked on the last words, and she turned before Ningning could respond, walking quickly down the garden path.
Ningning stood frozen, the garden suddenly feeling colder, emptier. Y/N’s words echoed in her mind, the challenge cutting through the haze of her emotions.
Prove it.
As Y/N disappeared from view, Ningning’s hands fell to her sides, her fingers trembling. She sank onto the bench, her breaths shaky as she replayed the moment in her mind.
The weight of what Y/N had asked, what Y/N needed, felt monumental. But even as the fear and doubt clawed at her, something stronger rose to the surface.
Determination.
Ningning wiped at her face, her jaw tightening as the tears continued to fall. She had spent weeks running from her feelings, from the truth of what Y/N meant to her. But if there was even the slightest chance of fixing what they had, she wasn’t going to let fear stop her again.
For the first time in weeks, Ningning felt a spark of clarity.
She would prove it.
The crisp morning air nipped at Ningning’s cheeks as she stood outside the campus cafeteria, the faint hum of chatter and the clinking of cups filtering through the glass doors. She barely noticed any of it, her focus entirely on the cup in her hands and the note tucked beneath its lid.
She stood just outside the door, clutching a warm coffee cup in her hands. The steam curled into the air between her trembling fingers, carrying the rich scent of caramel and espresso, Y/N’s favorite.
Her eyes flicked down to the note she had carefully written that morning. “I know I’m not your favorite person right now, but I hope this makes your day a little brighter.” The words felt small, almost insignificant compared to the depth of her regret, but they were all she could manage.
Ningning inhaled deeply, trying to steady the fluttering in her chest. Every instinct screamed at her to turn around, to let the gesture go undone, but she forced herself to move forward.
The cashier greeted her with a friendly smile, but Ningning barely registered it. Her voice was soft, almost timid, as she slid the cup across the counter. “Can you give this to Y/N when she comes in?” she asked, her words almost drowned out by the hum of the cafeteria.
The cashier glanced at the name scrawled on the side of the cup and then nodded. “Sure thing.”
“Thanks,” Ningning mumbled, her cheeks flushing as she hurried toward the door. She pushed it open, the chime ringing behind her as she stepped out into the brisk morning air.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked away, the warmth of the coffee still lingering on her fingertips. She couldn’t bear to stay and risk seeing Y/N’s reaction. What if she smiles? What if she throws it away? The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she held on to a sliver of hope.
An hour later, Ningning found herself wandering past the cafeteria again. She wasn’t even sure why she was there, her feet had carried her almost unconsciously. A part of her hoped to catch a glimpse of Y/N with the cup in hand, maybe reading the note and smiling, even if just for a moment.
But as she approached the entrance, her gaze landed on the trash bin by the door.
Her steps faltered, her heart sinking as her eyes focused on a familiar sight.
The coffee cup sat atop the pile of discarded receipts and crumpled napkins, the lid still firmly in place. Through the translucent plastic, she could see the faint outline of her note, still tucked neatly beneath the lid.
Discarded. Unread.
Her throat tightened as disappointment settled heavily in her chest, an ache she couldn’t push away. She stood frozen for a moment, staring at the cup as if willing it to disappear. Around her, students passed by, laughing and chatting, completely oblivious to the silent storm raging inside her.
She didn’t even open it, Ningning thought, the realization cutting deeper than she expected. Her fingers twitched at her sides, and for a brief second, she considered retrieving the cup, if only to save herself the humiliation of anyone else noticing it. But she stopped herself, clenching her hands into fists.
She turned and walked away, her head bowed and her chest heavy. The hope she had clung to that morning felt like ash now, crumbling under the weight of rejection.
I have to try harder, she thought, swallowing the lump in her throat. Determined not to give up, Ningning decided to try again.
Ningning sat cross legged on her bed, the book resting in her lap as she ran her fingers over its worn cover. It was an old edition of Y/N’s favorite novel, the faint scent of aged paper wafting up with each page she turned. She remembered the day Y/N had mentioned it, her eyes lighting up as she spoke about how much it had meant to her.
“I lost my copy ages ago,” Y/N had said wistfully during one of their late-night talks. “I’ve been trying to find it, but it’s out of print.”
That memory had stayed with Ningning, tucked away in a quiet corner of her mind. When she stumbled across the book in a dusty corner of a secondhand shop a few days ago, she had known immediately what she had to do.
Now, sitting in the library, she felt a nervous energy thrumming through her as she carefully wrote a note on a small piece of paper “Y/N, I saw this and thought of you.”
Her handwriting was slightly shaky, and she had to rewrite it twice before she was satisfied. She stuck the note to the front of the book and placed it on Y/N’s usual study table, the one tucked away near the back corner of the library.
As she set the book down, her heart raced. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then stepped away quickly, retreating to a nearby row of shelves where she pretended to browse.
The minutes dragged on, each one stretching unbearably as she waited for Y/N to arrive. She glanced at the table every few seconds, her stomach twisting with a mixture of hope and dread. What if Y/N ignored it? What if she didn’t even notice?
Finally, Y/N came into Ningning’s view.
Ningning froze, her hand still resting on the spine of a random book she had no intention of reading. Her breath caught as she watched Y/N approach the table, her movements deliberate as she placed her bag on the chair.
Y/N’s gaze landed on the book. For a moment, she didn’t move, her head tilting slightly as if trying to process what she was seeing. Slowly, she reached out, her fingers brushing against the note.
Ningning’s heart pounded in her chest, a flicker of hope blooming inside her. She’s reading it, she thought, barely able to breathe.
Y/N picked up the book, turning it over in her hands. Her expression was unreadable, her features carefully guarded as she ran her fingers over the worn edges of the cover. For a brief moment, Ningning thought she saw something soften in Y/N’s gaze, a glimmer of the warmth she had been chasing.
But then Y/N’s shoulders stiffened. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she set the book back down, her movements deliberate and firm.
Ningning’s stomach dropped.
Y/N glanced around the library briefly, her gaze sweeping past the shelves where Ningning stood frozen. Then, without another word, she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked away, leaving the book on the table.
Ningning’s fingers curled around the spine of the book she was pretending to browse, gripping it tightly as the ache in her chest deepened. She wanted to run after Y/N, to explain, to beg her to take the book, but her feet remained rooted to the spot.
As Y/N disappeared through the library’s glass doors, Ningning stepped back toward the table, staring down at the book she had carefully chosen. The note was still stuck to the cover, its words now feeling hollow and futile.
She swallowed hard, picking up the book and cradling it in her arms as she left the library, her shoulders slumping under the weight of rejection.
I need to try harder, she thought, her determination flickering faintly through the hurt. But the doubts in her mind whispered louder. What if she never forgives me?
Later that afternoon, Ningning sat slumped in an armchair in the student lounge, her knees drawn up slightly as she fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. Across from her, Chaewon and Yunjin lounged on a sofa, their books and notes spread haphazardly on the table between them.
The usual chatter and laughter of the lounge seemed distant, muffled by the weight in Ningning’s chest. She twisted the fabric of her sweater tighter, the words forming on her lips before she could stop herself.
“Can you just check in on her?” she blurted, her voice tinged with desperation.
Yunjin looked up from her notebook, raising an eyebrow. “You mean spy on her for you?”
“No!” Ningning said quickly, her cheeks flushing as her hands stilled. “I just... I’m worried about her.”
Chaewon glanced at Yunjin, then leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her expression was soft but cautious. “Ning, we’re already looking out for her,” she said gently. “But you know she doesn’t want to talk about you right now.”
Ningning’s shoulders slumped, and she nodded slowly, the ache in her chest growing heavier. “I just don’t know what else to do,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Yunjin let out a quiet sigh, leaning back and crossing her arms. “What exactly are you expecting us to say to her?” she asked, her tone not unkind but pointed. “Because if it’s anything close to, ‘Ningning’s worried about you,’ I can promise you that’s not going to go over well.”
Ningning winced, her fingers resuming their nervous twisting. “I don’t expect you to say that. I just... I don’t want her to think she’s alone,” she said, her words faltering as her throat tightened.
Chaewon reached out, placing a hand gently on Ningning’s knee. “She’s not alone,” she said softly. “She has us, and we’re making sure she’s okay. But Ning...” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “She’s hurting. And as much as you want to fix that, she’s not ready to hear it from you yet.”
Ningning nodded again, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions in check. “I know,” she said quietly, her voice thick. “I just... I hate feeling like this. Like I’m watching her slip further away, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
Yunjin’s expression softened, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Look,” she said, her voice more gentle now. “You messed up, Ning. We all know it, and so do you. But trying to rush her into forgiving you isn’t going to help. Give her time. And maybe give yourself some time too, to figure out what you’re really trying to say to her.”
Ningning blinked rapidly, her vision blurring as tears threatened to spill. She looked down at her lap, her hands trembling slightly. “What if it’s too late by then?” she whispered.
Chaewon squeezed her knee reassuringly. “If she means this much to you, then you keep trying,” she said firmly. “But you have to be patient. It’s not about making grand gestures or proving a point. It’s about letting her see that you’re not going anywhere.”
Yunjin nodded, her tone still blunt but laced with understanding. “And maybe stop asking us to be your go-betweens,” she said. “If you really care about her, show her in a way that’s about her, not about you.”
Ningning let out a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Their words weren’t the reassurance she had hoped for, but they were the truth she needed to hear.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, her voice still unsteady.
Chaewon smiled gently. “You’ve got this, Ning. Just... give it time.”
The final blow came outside the library one crisp afternoon. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the campus walkways as students moved between classes. Ningning stood frozen near the library steps, clutching the strap of her bag as she spotted Y/N walking briskly toward the entrance. Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse echoing in her ears.
The weight of everything unsaid pressed down on her, and before she could overthink it, she stepped into Y/N’s path.
“Y/N, wait,” she called, her voice wavering with unsteadiness.
Y/N stopped abruptly, her bag slipping slightly off her shoulder as she turned to face Ningning. Her eyes narrowed, sharp and guarded, and she crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “What do you want, Ning?” she asked, her tone clipped and impatient.
Ningning faltered under Y/N’s gaze, the words she had practiced so many times suddenly scattering like leaves in the wind. Her hands trembled slightly, and she forced herself to take a shaky breath. “I just...” she began, fumbling for the right words. “I wanted to check in on you.”
Y/N let out a sharp, humorless laugh, her frustration boiling over. “Check on me?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. “Is that what all of this has been about? The coffee, the book, sending my friends to talk to me, what are you trying to do, Ning?”
“I’m trying to show you I care,” Ningning said quietly, her chest tightening painfully as she met Y/N’s eyes.
Y/N’s expression hardened instantly, her features twisting with hurt and anger. Her voice rose, sharp and trembling. “You didn’t care when it mattered, Ning! Why should I believe you now?”
The words struck Ningning like a physical blow. She flinched, her breath hitching as tears stung the corners of her eyes. “Because I made a mistake,” she said, her voice breaking as the emotions she had been holding back spilled out. “I’m trying to make it right.”
Y/N shook her head, taking a step back as though to put more distance between them. Her shoulders were tense, her jaw tight. “A few nice gestures aren’t going to fix this,” she snapped, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “You can’t undo what you did with a cup of coffee and a book.”
Ningning opened her mouth to respond, to explain, but the lump in her throat choked her words.
Y/N’s arms tightened around herself, her body language closed off and defensive. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the pain she had been carrying all too evident now. “Stop trying, Ning,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just... leave me alone.”
Without waiting for a reply, Y/N turned abruptly, her steps quick and deliberate as she walked away.
Ningning stood rooted to the spot, her chest heavy with the weight of her failure. The library doors opened and closed behind Y/N, but the world around her seemed to blur and fade into silence.
She clenched her fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms as the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over. The tightness in her chest felt unbearable, and she struggled to steady her breathing as her emotions swirled into a storm of regret and despair.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the empty air, the words too late and too small to reach the person who mattered most.
That night, Ningning sat cross legged on her bed, the soft glow of her desk lamp casting a faint golden light across the room. The hum of the dorm’s heater and the distant murmur of voices from the hallway only amplified the silence inside her.
In her lap rested a notebook, its pristine pages staring back at her like an unyielding judge. The emptiness was unbearable, a mirror of the void she felt inside. She picked up a pen, her fingers trembling slightly as she twirled it absently, her mind racing with scattered thoughts.
Why can’t I just fix this?
Her breath hitched as she stared at the blank page, willing the words to come. Writing had always been her escape, her way of processing the world and the emotions she could never quite express aloud. But tonight, the usual flow of inspiration refused to surface. Everything she tried to conjure felt shallow, unworthy of the depth of what she was feeling.
Ningning let the pen drop onto the page with a soft thud. She leaned back against the headboard, her arms wrapping around her knees as she exhaled shakily. Her gestures, no matter how heartfelt, had failed. The coffee, the book, even asking Y/N’s friends to check on her... all of it had fallen flat.
Because Y/N was right, Ningning thought, her chest tightening with the weight of realization. I didn’t care the way she needed me to when it mattered most.
Her hands trembled as she brushed her hair out of her face, the words from Y/N’s sharp tone earlier still echoing in her mind.
“You didn’t care when it mattered.”
The truth of that accusation cut deeper than anything else. Ningning hadn’t just let Y/N down, she had made her feel invisible, unworthy of the love and attention she now desperately wanted to give.
She picked up the pen again, her grip firmer this time, and pressed it to the page. Her hand hovered, her mind grasping for lyrics or even a simple line to capture what she felt. But no words came. Not yet.
I don’t know how to say it, she thought bitterly. I don’t know how to make her believe me.
Setting the pen down once more, Ningning let her head fall into her hands, her breathing unsteady. Her gestures, no matter how well-intentioned, had been surface-level. They weren’t what Y/N needed.
What Y/N needed was more than coffee, books, or vague apologies. She needed to feel seen. To feel heard.
Ningning sat back up, her jaw tightening as her fingers gripped the edge of the notebook. She had been running from the depth of her feelings, too scared to face the truth of how much Y/N meant to her. But the fear of losing Y/N for good was greater than anything else.
She doesn’t need grand gestures, Ningning realized, the thought striking her like lightning. She needs to know that I understand her. That I see her for who she is. That I love her.
Her breath hitched at the last thought, and she closed her eyes, letting it settle over her. The realization was terrifying but grounding, like a tether pulling her back to what mattered most.
With a shaky hand, she closed the notebook and set it aside, staring at the ceiling as the faint hum of the dorm seemed to grow quieter. Determination flickered faintly in her chest, fragile but present.
I’ll find a way, she thought. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll make her believe me. I’ll show her that she matters, that she’s always mattered.
For the first time that night, the ache in her chest eased just slightly. She didn’t have the answers yet, but she had a direction. And for Ningning, that was enough to hold on to.
The dorm room was a cozy chaos of mismatched furniture and half-empty takeout containers. The faint glow of string lights cast a warm hue across the walls, dotted with posters and polaroids. Aeri sat cross-legged on the floor, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone, while Minjeong lounged on the bed, tossing popcorn into her mouth and missing more than she caught.
Jimin was sprawled across the couch, flipping lazily through a magazine, but her eyes flicked up as Ningning pushed open the door and stepped inside.
“You look like you’ve been through it,” Jimin remarked, her tone light but her eyes sharp.
Ningning let out a heavy sigh, dropping onto the rug in the center of the room. She pulled her knees to her chest, her gaze fixed on the floor. “That’s because I have.”
Minjeong straightened, tossing the popcorn bowl aside. “What happened?”
“Everything I try just makes her angrier,” Ningning admitted, her voice tight with frustration. “The coffee, the book, even talking to her friends, it all blew up in my face. She doesn’t believe me, and maybe... maybe she’s right not to.”
Aeri put her phone down, her expression turning serious. “She’s hurt, Ning. You can’t expect her to forgive you overnight.”
“I know that,” Ningning said, her voice breaking slightly. “But I don’t know what else to do. Every time I try, it feels like I’m just making things worse.”
Minjeong moved to sit next to Ningning, her hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “But you can’t give up,” she said gently. “If you love her, you have to keep trying.”
Jimin sat up, the shift in her posture drawing everyone’s attention. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, the gears in her mind visibly turning as she leaned forward. “Then you need to stop playing small,” she said, her tone sharp with conviction.
Ningning looked up, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“The coffee, the book,” Jimin continued, waving her hand dismissively. “They’re nice gestures, sure, but they’re not enough. They’re safe. Too safe. You’re skating around the edges when what you need to do is jump in.”
“Jump in?” Ningning echoed, skepticism etched into her voice. Her fingers fidgeted with a loose thread on her sleeve, pulling it absently as her mind raced.
Jimin nodded firmly. “You need something big. Something that shows her, and everyone else, how serious you are. Something she can’t ignore.”
Ningning frowned, her fingers still tugging at the thread. “Like what?” she asked hesitantly, her tone tinged with doubt. “I’ve already tried the small stuff, and I’m not exactly good at grand gestures.”
Across the room, Aeri smirked, crossing her arms and tilting her head as she regarded Ningning with a knowing look. “Then it’s time to get out of your comfort zone,” she said. “You’re a performer, Ning. Use that.”
“A performance?” Ningning’s stomach tightened at the suggestion, her nerves prickling at the thought of standing in front of people and laying herself bare.
“Exactly!” Minjeong clapped her hands together, her face lighting up with excitement. “But not just any performance. You need to do something for her, something personal. Something that tells her exactly how you feel.”
The suggestion hung in the air, heavy with possibility. Ningning’s heart pounded as the words settled over her, the weight of them both terrifying and exhilarating.
“I don’t know,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “You think she’d even come to something like that?”
Jimin’s grin widened, a mischievous glint sparking in her eyes. “Leave that part to us,” she said, her tone brimming with confidence. “We’ll make sure she’s there.”
Ningning hesitated, her chest tightening as she tried to imagine what such a moment would even look like. The idea of performing something so deeply personal, something meant for Y/N, felt almost unbearable in its vulnerability.
“What if it doesn’t work?” she asked, her voice small.
Aeri leaned forward, her expression softening slightly. “Then at least you’ll know you gave it everything,” she said. “No regrets, Ning. Isn’t that what you want?”
Ningning swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to respond. But deep down, she knew Aeri was right. If she didn’t take this chance, she would always wonder what could have been.
“Think about it this way,” Minjeong added, her tone gentle but encouraging. “If you love her as much as you say you do, then this is your chance to show her. Not just tell her, show her.”
The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of their words sinking in. Ningning glanced down at her lap, her fingers brushing against the worn cover of her notebook. She flipped it open, her pen hovering above the first blank page.
“There’s this song I’ve been thinking about,” she said slowly, her voice tentative. “It... it says everything I’ve been too scared to say.”
“That’s perfect,” Minjeong said, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “But you can’t just stop at the song. You need to say something, something that’s completely yours.”
Jimin nodded in agreement. “Lay it all out there, Ning. No holding back. This is your shot to make her understand exactly how you feel.”
Ningning’s chest tightened again, but this time, the fear was accompanied by a flicker of determination. She looked around the room at her friends, their faces lit with encouragement and belief in her.
For the first time in weeks, she felt a spark of hope.
“Okay,” she said finally, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside her. She closed the notebook and looked at her friends with resolve. “Let’s do it.”
The room erupted into cheers, and Ningning allowed herself a small smile. She didn’t know if it would be enough, but for the first time, she felt ready to try.
The following week passed in a whirlwind of planning and preparation. Ningning threw herself into the work with single-minded focus, her determination burning brighter than the fear that lingered at the edges of her thoughts. There was no time for second-guessing, no room for hesitation, only the relentless drive to make this right.
Her friends were her lifeline, rallying around her with unwavering support. Aeri, ever dependable, had secured the campus amphitheater as the venue. It was one of the most picturesque spots on campus, nestled among towering trees and surrounded by twinkling string lights that created a magical glow at night. Minjeong took charge of the setup, organizing lights, sound, and seating with a precision that belied her usual carefree demeanor. And Jimin, the master schemer, was tasked with the most important job of all: ensuring Y/N would be there.
“Don’t worry,” Jimin had said with a smirk one night as they huddled over a makeshift plan in the dorm common room. “I’ll make sure she’s front and center. She won’t have a clue what’s coming.”
Ningning tried to smile at Jimin’s confidence, but the weight of what she was doing loomed large in her chest. For her, every detail felt monumental, each decision a step closer to exposing her rawest emotions to the world, and to Y/N.
Her nights were consumed by preparation. She spent hours hunched over her notebook, writing and rewriting the speech she planned to give. The words came haltingly at first, her pen hovering over the page as she struggled to articulate the depth of her regret and the truth of her feelings.
In the quiet of her dorm room, she practiced the song over and over, her voice breaking at times as the lyrics forced her to confront everything she had been too scared to say.
The song had always resonated with her, but now it felt like an extension of her soul. Each note carried the weight of her love, her sorrow, and her longing. Every word was a confession, a promise, and a plea rolled into one.
“I would never fall in love again until I found her...”
As she sang, the memory of Y/N’s laugh would echo in her mind, followed by the flash of pain in her eyes the last time they spoke. It fueled Ningning’s determination, even as her hands trembled with the enormity of what she was preparing to do.
Late one evening, Aeri walked into Ningning’s room to check on her and found her sitting cross-legged on the bed, her guitar resting on her lap. The space was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of her desk lamp illuminating the open notebook beside her.
“How’s it going?” Aeri asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Ningning looked up, her eyes tired but resolute. “It’s... hard,” she admitted, her fingers brushing against the strings absently. “But it has to be perfect. I can’t mess this up.”
Aeri stepped inside, her expression softening. “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” she said gently. “It just has to be real. That’s what she needs from you.”
Ningning swallowed hard, nodding as she glanced back at the notebook. “I just... I keep thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. What if she doesn’t believe me? What if it’s too late?”
“Then at least you’ll know you tried,” Aeri said simply, her hand resting lightly on Ningning’s shoulder. “You’re putting yourself out there, Ning. That’s more than a lot of people ever do.”
Her words settled over Ningning like a calming balm, easing some of the tension in her chest.
The nights blurred into days, and before she knew it, the week was over, and everything was ready. The amphitheater had been transformed into a space that felt both intimate and magical. Strings of lights cast a warm glow over the stage, and rows of chairs were set up for the small audience that would gather to witness Ningning’s moment of truth.
When the morning of the performance arrived, the amphitheater buzzed with quiet anticipation. Friends and classmates began to gather, drawn in by the whispers of something special about to happen. Minjeong flitted between the crowd and the stage, making last-minute adjustments to the sound system, while Jimin kept a watchful eye on her phone, ensuring everything was on schedule.
At the center of it all, Ningning stood backstage, gripping her guitar and taking deep, steadying breaths.
“Are you ready?” Minjeong asked, popping her head backstage with an encouraging grin.
Ningning nodded, her fingers tightening around the neck of her guitar. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Jimin appeared a moment later, giving Ningning a thumbs up. “She’s here,” she said simply.
Ningning’s heart skipped a beat. She swallowed hard, adjusting the strap of her guitar as she stepped toward the stage.
The crowd quieted as Ningning emerged from the shadows, stepping into the soft glow of the amphitheater lights. The warm, golden hue bathed the stage, casting her in a halo-like glow that made the vulnerability etched into her features all the more striking.
Her gaze swept over the audience, taking in the faces turned toward her with quiet anticipation. But it wasn’t the crowd that mattered. It was her.
Near the back, Y/N sat with her arms crossed loosely, flanked by Chaewon and Yunjin. The two friends radiated a mix of protectiveness and encouragement, their gazes flitting between Ningning and Y/N as if silently willing the night to go well.
Y/N’s expression was unreadable, her features set in a careful mask. But when Ningning’s eyes locked with hers, the air seemed to shift. For a moment, everything else, the murmurs of the crowd, the warmth of the lights, the storm in her own chest, faded into the background.
Her heart skipped a beat, the enormity of the moment threatening to overwhelm her.
Taking a deep breath, Ningning stepped up to the mic, clutching her guitar like a lifeline. Her voice, steady despite the tumult inside her, filled the stillness.
“Hi, everyone,” she began, her gaze sweeping the crowd once more before flicking back to Y/N. “Thanks for being here tonight.”
Her fingers adjusted the mic slightly, and she hesitated, swallowing hard as her emotions bubbled close to the surface. She forced herself to meet Y/N’s gaze again, pouring everything she felt into her next words.
“This...” she paused, her voice trembling but resolute. “This is for someone really important to me.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd, but Ningning barely noticed. She adjusted her guitar strap and strummed the opening chords of Until I Found You.
The familiar melody filled the amphitheater, soft and sweet like a confession whispered in the dark. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, grounding herself in the music, before her voice broke through the stillness.
“Georgia, wrap me up in all your I want ya...”
Her voice carried the weight of every unsaid word, each note trembling with raw emotion. She opened her eyes, and her gaze immediately found Y/N again.
“in my arms, Oh, let me hold ya I’ll never let you go again, like I did Oh, I used to say”
Ningning’s voice faltered slightly, the memory of pushing Y/N away flashing through her mind. She steadied herself, gripping the guitar tighter as her resolve deepened.
“I would never fall in love again until I found her I said, ‘I would never fall unless it’s you I fall into”
Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she sang, each word a plea, a promise, a truth she had waited too long to express. Her voice rose with intensity, trembling as she poured her heart into the next line.
“I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her I found you”
Her hands moved fluidly over the strings, but her focus never wavered. Every lyric, every chord was for Y/N. It wasn’t just a performance, it was a confession laid bare for everyone to see.
The crowd faded entirely into the background. The world narrowed to just the two of them, her voice carrying across the space like a bridge connecting their fractured hearts.
“Heaven When I held you again How could We ever just be friends?”
The vulnerability in her voice cracked slightly, but it only added to the depth of the moment. She took a small step closer to the edge of the stage, her eyes locking on Y/N with unyielding determination.
“I would Rather die than let you go Juliet to your Romeo”
Her voice softened, trembling on the edge of a whisper, as though the words were meant only for Y/N.
“How I heard you say”
The emotion in her voice swelled again, rising to the chorus with a quiet strength that carried her love across the amphitheater.
“I would never fall in love again until I found her I said, I would never fall unless it’s you I fall into”
As the final notes of the song resonated into the night, Ningning’s hands stilled on the strings. Her chest heaved slightly, her breaths uneven as she absorbed the weight of what she had just done.
The amphitheater erupted into applause, a wave of sound that seemed distant and unimportant compared to the silence that lingered between her and Y/N.
Ningning stepped back to the mic, her heart racing but her voice steady.
“But there’s more I need to say,” she began, her tone trembling with sincerity. “Y/N, this isn’t just a song for me. It’s my truth. I was scared, scared of how much I felt for you, scared of what it meant. I thought pushing you away would protect you, protect me, but all it did was hurt. And I will never forgive myself for that.”
Her voice caught for a moment, but she pushed through, her gaze locked on Y/N.
“I’m here now,” she continued, her words stronger, more resolute. “And I’m not running anymore. I’m not giving up on you, on us. I’ll spend every day proving to you that I’m worth the chance, if you’ll let me.”
Ningning’s chest tightened as she searched Y/N’s expression for a sign, any sign that she might be reaching her. The crowd was silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a fragile thread between them.
The murmurs of the crowd fading into the background as Y/N remained seated, her eyes locked on Ningning. The amphitheater’s lights seemed softer now, casting a warm glow that wrapped around the two of them like a fragile thread.
Y/N’s chest felt impossibly tight, her emotions a whirlwind of disbelief, longing, and fear. The raw vulnerability in Ningning’s performance, the unflinching honesty in her words, it was more than Y/N had expected, more than she had allowed herself to hope for.
Chaewon and Yunjin exchanged a glance, their expressions soft with encouragement. Gently, Yunjin nudged Y/N’s arm.
“Go,” she whispered.
Y/N hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of her seat as she struggled to make sense of the storm in her heart. Finally, she stood, her steps tentative as she moved toward the stage.
Ningning froze as Y/N approached, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure the whole crowd could hear it. She stepped down from the stage, meeting Y/N halfway, her guitar forgotten as it rested against the mic stand.
The world seemed to blur, the edges of the amphitheater fading as the two of them stood face to face.
Y/N’s voice was soft, trembling with emotion as she finally spoke. “You meant all of that?”
The question hung in the air between them, fragile and heavy.
Ningning nodded, her gaze unwavering despite the tears glistening in her eyes. “Every word,” she said, her voice firm but laced with vulnerability. “I’ve never been more honest about anything in my life.”
Her words landed like a soft ache in Y/N’s chest, stirring emotions she had tried so hard to bury. She crossed her arms tightly, wrapping them around herself as if to shield against the weight of the moment. “I don’t know how to trust this, Ning,” she admitted, her voice cracking under the strain of her conflicted feelings. “You hurt me. You broke my heart. How do I know this isn’t just another gesture you’ll take back when it gets hard?”
The rawness of her words cut deep, and Ningning flinched slightly, the guilt pressing against her like a tidal wave. She took a deep breath, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides before she forced herself to still them.
“You don’t,” Ningning said softly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “Not yet. But I’m not asking you to believe me right now. I’m asking for the chance to show it to you, every day, for as long as it takes.”
Her words hung in the air, quiet but resolute, and Y/N’s throat tightened. For weeks, she had carried the weight of heartbreak, shielding herself from the vulnerability that Ningning now offered so freely. Yet in Ningning’s eyes, she saw something different, something she hadn’t allowed herself to see before.
It wasn’t just regret. It was a determination that cut through the fear, unwavering and raw.
“I was so scared that I ended up hurting both of us,” Ningning continued, her voice breaking, the weight of her confession almost too much to bear. “But I’m not scared anymore, Y/N. I just need you to give me the chance to show you how much you mean to me.”
Y/N searched Ningning’s face, her emotions a whirlwind of longing, hurt, and guarded hope. Her defenses wavered, the vulnerability in Ningning’s words pressing against the walls she had built around her heart. Slowly, she let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know if I can forget everything that happened,” she said softly, her gaze dropping to the ground.
“You don’t have to,” Ningning replied quickly, the urgency in her voice pulling Y/N’s eyes back to her. “I don’t want you to forget. I just want to be the person who makes it better, who proves to you that I’m worth trusting again.”
The sincerity in Ningning’s words cracked something open in Y/N, a small fracture in the armor she had so carefully constructed. A long silence stretched between them, heavy with the weight of shared pain and unspoken hopes.
Then, slowly, Y/N reached out, her hand brushing lightly against Ningning’s. Her fingers were cold, tentative, as if unsure whether to hold on or pull away.
“I’m scared,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with the confession she had been too afraid to speak aloud.
Ningning’s breath caught, and her fingers curled gently around Y/N’s, anchoring her in the moment. “I know,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.”
Her grip was warm and steady, a quiet promise in the way her thumb brushed lightly over Y/N’s knuckles. The tension between them softened, the air around them growing quieter, more intimate.
Y/N studied Ningning’s face, searching for any cracks in her resolve, but all she found was a quiet, unshakable truth.
“I want to believe you,” Y/N said finally, her voice breaking on the last word.
“Then let me help you,” Ningning whispered. “One day at a time. As long as it takes.”
Y/N let out a soft, shuddering breath, the tears she had been holding back finally slipping free. But this time, the pain wasn’t as sharp. It was tempered by something softer, something that felt like hope.
Their fingers intertwined fully now, neither of them willing to let go. The crowd had dispersed by the time Ningning and Y/N emerged from the amphitheater, their steps slow as they walked side by side along the moonlit path. The crisp night air carried the faint scent of blooming flowers, mingling with the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze. The campus, usually alive with chatter and footsteps, felt almost sacred in its quiet stillness.
Ningning’s hand remained in Y/N’s, their fingers loosely intertwined. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but in its simplicity, it felt monumental, a quiet promise of what was to come.
For a while, they walked in silence, their pace unhurried as if savoring the fragile peace between them. Y/N finally broke the quiet, her voice soft and contemplative.
“I didn’t think I’d ever be able to hear your voice again without feeling hurt,” she admitted, her gaze fixed on the path ahead.
Ningning’s chest tightened, the weight of her past mistakes still heavy despite the glimmer of hope this moment held. “I know,” she said quietly. “I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it.”
Y/N glanced at her, her lips pressing into a thin line before softening. “But tonight... it felt different,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Ningning’s heart skipped a beat, her grip on Y/N’s hand tightening. “Different how?”
“Like you were really there,” Y/N said, meeting Ningning’s gaze fully now. “Not hiding. Not running. Just... you.”
Ningning swallowed hard, emotion welling up in her throat. She nodded, her voice firm but tinged with vulnerability. “I’m not running anymore,” she said. “I’m here. And I’m going to keep showing you that. Every day.”
Y/N’s faint smile grew slightly, the tension in her shoulders easing as her steps became lighter. For the first time in weeks, the ache in her chest began to lift, replaced by something softer, something lighter. Hope.
The path stretched before them, bathed in the soft glow of campus lights. The world seemed to hold its breath, leaving them in their own quiet bubble as they walked. Slowly, the lingering tension between them gave way to something unspoken but deeply understood: this was the beginning of something new.
Y/N paused, her steps halting as she turned to face Ningning fully. The glow of the nearby lamppost framed her features, illuminating the warmth that had started to creep back into her expression.
“Ning,” she said softly, her voice carrying a vulnerability that made Ningning’s heart ache.
Ningning stopped as well, her hand still holding Y/N’s. “Yeah?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Y/N’s gaze dropped to their hands, their fingers still intertwined, before lifting to meet Ningning’s eyes. She took a small step closer, the space between them narrowing until she could feel the faint warmth of Ningning’s breath.
“For what it’s worth,” Y/N murmured, her voice trembling but steady, “I believed you. Tonight, I believe you.”
Ningning’s breath caught, her chest tightening as the words sank in. “Y/N...” she started, her voice breaking slightly.
Y/N shook her head, her lips curving into a soft, tentative smile. “Don’t say anything,” she whispered. “Just...”
Before Ningning could respond, Y/N leaned in, her free hand brushing lightly against Ningning’s cheek. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, the world falling away as Y/N closed the distance between them.
Their lips met in a kiss that was soft, slow, and full of unspoken promises. It wasn’t desperate or hurried, it was deliberate, a quiet declaration of forgiveness and the tentative start of something new.
Ningning’s free hand found Y/N’s waist, holding her gently as she poured everything she felt into the kiss. The fear, the regret, the love, it all flowed between them, wordless but unmistakable.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, a small laugh escaping her lips, light and free. “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
Ningning chuckled softly, her voice laced with emotion. “Not when it comes to you.”
Hand in hand, they continued walking down the moonlit path, the tension between them replaced by a quiet sense of hope and love.
For the first time in a long time, they both believed it could be enough.
#kpop imagines#girl group imagines#gg x reader#kpop x reader#aespa x fem reader#aespa x reader#ning yizhuo x reader#ningning x reader#ningning x fem reader
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BLOOM WITH YOU | prologue
After nearly three years of heartbreak and disappointment, you and your husband’s dream of starting a family seemed out of reach. But miracle was a beautiful thing.
❧ PAIRING; wonwoo x reader
❧ GENRE; angst, fluff
❧ WARNINGS; emotional talk, mention of alcohol
❧ WORDCOUNT; 1.5k
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series masterlist
𐚁₊⊹
▍13 MARCH 2019
Wonwoo juggled the house keys in his hand as his tired eyes scanned the porch light flickering above. As the door swung open, you pushed past him with an exaggerated groan. The first thing you did was immediately slip off your black stilettos and drop them carelessly onto the hardwood floor.
You stumbled over to the sofa and collapsed onto it face-first, releasing a long, dramatic sigh. “Finally,” you muttered into the cushions.
The evening was long — way longer than you had expected. Your older sister and her husband threw a dinner party to celebrate her pregnancy. While it was wonderful to see your family and friends and enjoy the excitement of the news, by the time you got home, you and your boyfriend were utterly drained.
Wonwoo followed you inside, shaking his head with a small chuckle as he closed the door, locked it, and set the keys on the table by the entrance. The tranquility in your home was what you both desperately needed as the noisy evening grew longer.
“Rough night?” he teased, making his way over to you.
You rolled onto your back and glared at him playfully. “Not rough — just long. My feet are killing me. Why did I think wearing these heels was a good idea?”
Wonwoo smirked. “Because they look great on you. Totally worth the pain.”
You groaned again, this time throwing an arm dramatically over your eyes. “Says the man who spent the night in loafers.”
He crouched down in front of you, leaning over until your faces were mere inches apart. “I seem to remember you saying something about how much fun tonight was.”
“It was fun,” you admitted with a small smile. “But you know how my family gets. It’s like a marathon — Miyeon’s stories that continues on forever, dad’s terrible jokes, mum pretending she’s not already planning the baby shower…”
“And your uncle Han cornering me about investment opportunities for a solid thirty minutes,” Wonwoo added, his voice dry but amused.
You laughed. It was a soft, melodic sound that made Wonwoo smile despite his own tiredness. He leaned down further and tilted his head to give you an upside-down kiss on the lips. It was a slow, sweet gesture — unhurried, as if you both had all the time in the world. When you parted, you sighed again, but this time it was a contented sound.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you murmured with your eyes half-closed.
“I try” your boyfriend grinned as he straightened his posture.
He wandered toward the kitchen while leaving you sprawled on the couch. The sound of cabinets opening and closing drifted into the living room as he rummaged for something to snack on.
“You want tea or something?” he called out.
You lifted your head lazily. “Wine. Do we still have that red from last week?”
Wonwoo poked his head around the corner, an eyebrow raised. “You just spent the whole evening saying you’re ‘too old’ for another glass.”
“Yeah, and now I’ve changed my mind,” you said with a mischievous smile.
He disappeared back into the kitchen, and a moment later, you heard the cork pop. You sat up and stretched your legs out across the couch, wincing slightly as you flexed your toes. The stilettos had really been a bad choice, but they matched your dress perfectly, and you weren’t about to let a little discomfort ruin your outfit.
Wonwoo returned with two glasses of wine, handing one to you before sitting down beside you. You clinked glasses softly.
“To surviving the circus,” Wonwoo said, raising his glass.
You laughed. “And to Miyeon and her little bundle of joy.”
You both sipped in silence for a while. You leaned your head on Wonwoo’s shoulder while your glass rested on your knee. “Do you ever think about what it’ll be like when it’s our turn?”
Wonwoo glanced down at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Our turn for what?”
“You know — for a baby,” you said softly.
Wonwoo took a moment to think, swirling the wine in his glass. “I think it’ll be chaos. But the good kind.”
You smiled, a dreamy look in your eyes. “I hope so. Miyeon looked so happy tonight. It’s weird to think she’s going to be someone’s mum.”
“And you’ll be the cool aunt,” Wonwoo added with a grin.
“Obviously,” you said with a mock-serious tone. “It’s basically my destiny.”
You both laughed. Your exhaustion was temporarily forgotten as you talked about the future. The conversation flowed from baby names to vacations you wanted to take before settling down.
“But seriously,” he said, his tone softening. “Did tonight…you know, make you think about what it would be like? To be parents?”
You took a sip of your wine, considering his question. “It did. I mean, it’s not something I think about every day, but tonight…yeah. Seeing Miyeon and how excited she is, it made me wonder what it would feel like to be in her shoes.”
Wonwoo nodded, his gaze fixed on you. “I think about it sometimes. Not all the details, but just…us. Having a little one. It’s kind of scary, but also kind of exciting, you know?”
You smiled at him, feeling your heart swelling at the thought. You could vaguely picture the two of you adjusting to parenthood together, having quiet moments with your child and laughing through sleepless nights.
“Yeah,” you said softly. “It is.”
You curled up against your boyfriend, and he draped an arm around you, pulling you closer as you sank deeper into the sofa cushions.
“Hey,” he whispered after a while with his deep and gentle voice.
“Hmm?” you murmured and looked up at him.
“I think you’ll be an amazing mum someday,” he said, and kissed the top of your head.
“And you’ll be a pretty great dad” you smiled.
“Pretty great? I was aiming for legendary” Wonwoo chuckled softly.
“Don’t push your luck Jeon” you teased.
As the conversation drifted on, your laughter returned. When your glass emptied, you stood to refill it. Wonwoo hesitated as he glanced at you.
“You sure you want another?” he asked.
“Why not? It’s been a long day” you said, brushing off his concern. You poured yourself another generous glass and returned to the sofa, sinking back into the cushions. Wonwoo watched you closely with his own glass still half-full.
You raised your glass to your lips and downed the wine in a single go. Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly as he watched the dark red liquid disappear in an instant, and he set his glass down on the coffee table.
“Babe,” he said gently, “maybe slow down a bit.”
With the glass rim still pressed to your lips, you paused for a second. Your face was unreadable as you slowly lowered it. Your boyfriend tilted his head slightly to the side as concern flickered in his gaze.
“You okay?” he asked.
For a long moment, you didn’t respond. Then, to Wonwoo’s surprise, your eyes glistened with unshed tears. You blinked rapidly to get rid of them, but it was too late as a single tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another. You sniffled and brushed them away hastily with the back of your hand.
“Y/n…” Wonwoo placed his glass on the table and moved closer, his voice low and gentle. “Baby what’s wrong?” he asked softly.
You shook your head and pressed your lips tightly together. When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know,” your words trembled. “It’s just…tonight, seeing Miyeon, hearing everyone talk about babies and families and the future…it made me feel—” you broke off, your breath hitching.
Wonwoo placed a hand on your knee to steady you. “It made you feel what?” he pressed.
You looked at him, your eyes searching his for understanding. “It made me feel like I’m running out of time.”
“Running out of time? What do you mean?” Wonwoo frowned, his brow furrowing.
“I don’t know,” you said again, your voice rising slightly.
“It’s irrational, I know it is. But seeing Miyeon, knowing she’s already there, already starting that chapter of her life…it just made me wonder if I’m falling behind somehow. Like…what if we’re not ready when the time comes? What if we never get there?”
“Y/n” Wonwoo’s voice was firm but kind. He took both of your hands in his, anchoring you. “You’re not falling behind. And we’re not on anyone else’s timeline. We’re going to get there when we’re ready — when you’re ready. There’s no rush.”
You nodded, but the tears kept coming. “I know,” you whispered.
“I know you’re right. But it’s hard not to compare, you know? Especially with everyone watching and waiting for us to be next. We’re not even married yet”
Wonwoo pulled you into his arms and held you tightly as you cried softly against his chest. He stroked your hair in a gentle and reassuring manner.
“Hey,” he murmured. “We’re in this together, okay? Whenever the time comes, we’ll figure it out. And until then, we’re going to enjoy where we are now. There’s no rush to get to the next chapter — we’re writing our story at our own pace.”
You nodded against his chest, and your tears slowed as his words sank in. You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.
He gave you a tender smile as his large hands cupped your face. “I love you, you know that right?”
“I love you too”
#svt fanfic#svt fluff#svt imagines#svt smut#svt x reader#svt fic#svt fic recs#seventeen#seventeen x reader#svt#wonwoo svt#svt wonwoo#svt scenarios#seventeen wonwoo#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#wonwoo seventeen#seventeen scenarios#wonwoo drabble#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo smut#wonwoo scenarios#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo angst#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo#wonwoo au#wonwoo fic
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And finally, December:
22 Movies Watched, with 8 Partial Watches
1 TV Special
25 Comic Book Issues
And I started 1 Game.
Now, that 22 movies is clearly an outlier. And with 20/22 of those being watched over the Christmas holidays, it turns out I watch more movies when I feel the need to spend time with my family rather than go to my room. I watch more stuff when I'm not in charge of starting the watching. Go figure.
Details, as always, under the cut:
Movies:
A Christmas Carol (1984): The one with Patton as Scrooge, which notably has Scrooge as a commodities trader. Fairly good adaptation.
That Christmas: Netflix animated Christmas film, co-written by the creator of Love Actually. Pretty great movie, it's definitely stuck in my head since.
Sing: The Illumination franchise not featuring Minions. Fun, feelgood kid's movie. Solid stuff.
The Holiday: One of my Mom's favourite Christmas movies, she watches it every year. It's a fun little thing, mostly about romance than Christmas, but still.
Oppenheimer: I finally got around to this one by virtue of my Mom putting it on and then falling asleep watching it. It's a fascinating movie about the road to hell being paved with good intentions, how justification for immoral acts grow and spread, and how you cannot control what you put into the world once you've done it.
Batman Begins: Directly after Oppenheimer, seems they were doing a Nolan marathon. Gotta say, I feel like after this one Nolan leaned too far into realism and I feel it was detrimental to the rest of his trilogy. This one had a gothic Gotham and while the more fantastical elements were stripped, it still had a secret society of Ninjas who burned society down every so often. I feel like some more magical elements absolutely could have coexisted with this Batman over the latter two films.
Peter Rabbit 2: The Runaway: This did something The Fall Guy joked about, and tried to make up for a weaker Act Three by lampshading the weakness of it's Act Three.
The Muppets Christmas Carol: Because of course I did, it's mandatory.
Moana: Still a fantastic movie, one of my favourites of Disney's 2010s films.
Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl: It's Wallace & Gromit, it continues to be a series of hilarious films. I like how it touched on AI art and how the effort of creating something is part of the enjoyment of it, but in a subtle enough way that it doesn't come off as preachy.
San Andreas: You know, I think this is the only movie I've seen where falling glass from a breaking window is depicted as dangerous.
The Quiet Man: For those that don't know: It's a movie by John Ford, starring John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara, about an Irish-born American returning to his family home and trying to make a life. He falls in love, and falls afoul of local customs. It is absolutely heavy on the stereotypes, and the romance is questionably consensual the entire way through (not helped by the ending, in which our hero seems to treat our heroine terribly... until it turns out to have been an act they planned). If you can get past that, it is a fun movie.
We Own The Night: Cop drama. Not great.
And Now For Something Completely Different: Compilation of Monty Python sketches into a movie. Some of them are better in the TV versions, but it's Python, it's still mostly funny.
Romancing The Stone: Eh. It's a fair enough romantic comedy/jungle adventure.
Superman II: ...y'know, these Superman movies play a lot heavier into the Jesus angle than I remember.
Spider-Man: No Way Home: Y'know, I've seen people say this doesn't hold up now that the Marvel Multiverse stuff in full swing, but I gotta disagree, I still like this a bunch.
The Sound of Music: I gotta admit, the confrontation at the end between Captain Von Trapp and Rolfe is really well-done. You genuinely think he's gonna get through to this kid, and then the guy's true colours shine through.
The Railway Children: ...the pacing is weird on this, because what seems to be the natural climax is just the halfway point. In any other movie, preventing the train crash would happen just before the reuniting with their father.
The Second Best Exotic Marigold: I didn't really pay attention to this, to be quite honest, but I paid enough that I feel I can't call it a partial watch.
Black Panther: Technically, my last movie of 2024, as the next one I watched after midnight on New Year's Eve, but the rule is that it's not the next month until I go to bed. Anyway, still an all-time great superhero movie.
The Guard: An Irish comedy about a corrupt small-town cop who turns out to be less corrupt than the rest of the cops. Genuinely hilarious.
Herself (Partial): Irish drama about a mother escaping an abusive relationship and trying to build a home for her daughters. Harrowing, honestly.
Gosford Park (Partial): Proto-Downton Abbey. You can see the bones there, but also see where edges got sanded down from this.
Cheaper By The Dozen (Partial): Smallville Superman gets bullied by Sam Supernatural for being a farmboy. This is the only subplot I remember, it's mostly chaos.
Elf (Partial): Honestly I gotta get around to watching it in full, it seems fun enough.
Chicken Run (Partial): Animated classic.
Ghostbusters Afterlife (Partial): Technically I saw the whole thing, I just didn't hear any dialogue after the first thirty minutes thanks to everyone visiting on Christmas Eve.
The Italian Job (1969) (Partial): Quite possibly the first ever use of a hacker in a heist film. The prison scenes are very clearly filmed in Dublin if you've ever seen Killmainham Jail. I saw the car chase, that's the best part of the film except for the iconic line.
Forces of Nature (Partial): Ben Affleck, Sandra Bullock romantic comedy? Wasn't great, but it's the only romantic comedy I've ever seen where the engaged lead decides to get married to the person they're engaged to. That's the end. Our leads go off on seperate lives, happy for the time they spent together but knowing they made the right choice. Insane this happens in an otherwise forgotten romcom from the early 00s.
TV Series:
Doctor Who Christmas Special: Joy To The World: Fun little romp. Nice poignant moments. Unsubtle ending.
Comics:
Alpha Flight (2011): Issues 5-8. I was confirming some confusing wording on the Marvel Wiki regarding a kid someone protected that made it sound like it was there. Canada spent some time as a fascist state in Marvel.
Strange Tales (1998): Issue 2. The below comic continues the story, turns out Man-Thing might be a direct descendant of the Biblical Adam.
Man-Thing (1997): Issues 7 and 8. Man-Thing's son nearly gets corrupted by a demon(?). Psychadelic art style. Hard to read.
Howard The Duck (2002): Issue 6. And wow, this series was trying incredibly hard to be edgy. Quite unsure if the cosmology it lays out is canon.
Namor, The Submariner: Issue 4. Double-checking some characters who pretended to be Poseidon's kids.
Uncanny Avengers Vol 2: Annual. Checking out the full story of the Emerald Warlock.
Scarlet Witch (2016): Issues 1-4. Continuing machinations of the Emerald Warlock.
Fantastic Four (2013): Issue 5. In which Julius Caesar is replaced by a Caesar-fanboy alien.
Blade: Vampire Nation: Single Issue. Honestly, I was just checking out why Henry Kissinger was a Vampire.
Master Of Kung Fu (1976): Issues 36 & 37. Shang-Chi meets a dude who claims to be related to Pan. Incredibly confusing story.
Kidpool & Spider-Boy: Single Issue. Sometimes I get asks and have to look up comics to answer them.
Elektra & Wolverine: The Redeemer: Three Issue Series. More of a book than a comic. Interesting story, but added another kid to Wolverine's list.
Wolverine (2010): Issues 305-307. Wolverine fights a Redneck Stereotype Mad Scientist named Dr Rot, who stole pieces of Wolverine's brain and grew them into shapeshifting minions.
Videogames:
Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth (Partial): Fun detective game so far, but I kinda miss the courtroom stuff. The Testimony/Rebuttal just doesn't feel the same.
Looking back, I spent most of last year in a depressive funk. There were some high moments, but after about March I just stopped doing the stuff I enjoy. I didn't read books, I didn't watch movies, the last videogame I played to completion was in May, I only went to the Cinema twice...
I just took the quick dopamine hit from stuff like youtube videos and social media scrolling.
I gotta fix that. I gotta get back to the things I enjoy.
So my New Year's Resolution, probably the first time I've ever seriously done one, is to enjoy more art.
I'm gonna record every movie and series watched, every book read, every game played- and I'm gonna finish a bunch of those I started and never ended.
No goal, just more.
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Ranking 2024 anime, Pt. 4: #20-11
hey, this post is also available on my ko-fi, so please check it out and consider tipping/donating as i do this for free and am currently between jobs. you can find part 1 of the list here, part 2 here, and part 3 here. thanks!
You know, I'd really planned to keep my re-reviews much shorter but I'm finding it harder to do so when I get into the anime I actually liked. Maybe that's a good thing.
And away we go.
20. Solo Leveling
Portal isekai, sad loser secretly gains crazy powers and instantly becomes a stoic gigachad, menu screens everywhere, entry-level power fantasy. You’ve seen it before. Honestly, Solo Leveling is total slop. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
If you’ve watched a couple isekai, like, ever, you’re not going to find much new here. There’s some interesting enough worldbuilding outside of the dungeon stuff; I did find myself intrigued by the level consideration given to how much this preponderance of portals would influence Korean economics and politics, and even moreso that much of the story so far revolves around how those corrupting powers can lead to hunters using dungeons as their own playgrounds for personal gain at others’ expense. There also seems to be a larger malefactor behind all of the menu screens driving protagonist Sung Jinwoo’s growth and titular leveling, so there’s the hook.
Even putting aside the few interesting parts of the otherwise boilerplate story, Solo Leveling both looks and sounds pretty darn good. The soundtrack is laden with Hiroyuki Sawano’s trademark build-ups and drops, and though the character art and dungeon designs aren’t always the most eye-catching (early on it did look like A-1 Pictures was going to default to “fuck it, we’re making money anyway” mode), the action animation goes absolutely bonkers in its best moments.
The second season is already up and running, and although I can barely remember anyone’s name outside of the protagonist (maybe that’s on me, I consume very little Korean media and am not great at retaining Korean names), I’m in this for the long haul. Great turn-your-brain-off action schlock.
19. Wind Breaker
At this point you could put a sign that says “DELINQUENT WITH A HEART OF GOLD” underneath a box-and-stick trap and I’d walk right in. I am not immune to your Josukes Higashikata, your Ryujis Sakamoto, what have you. The angry and violent type who will nevertheless stick up for what’s right and remain fiercely loyal to those they care about. Wind Breaker is rife with characters who fit that archetype, but it’s not exactly a delinquent anime so much as it’s a Dudes anime. More specifically, a Dudes Rock anime.
Yes, Wind Breaker’s ensemble cast is almost entirely Dudes, and they do indeed Rock. Protagonist Haruka is a self-inflicted outcast, and his tsundere ass does not appreciate all the positive attention he’s receiving after proving himself in street combat prior to his transfer to an all-delinquents high school. Nevertheless, he wants to fight his way to the top of his new environment, and if that means sticking up for the little guy along the way, all the better.
I love that Wind Breaker’s overarching messages of self-improvement and helping the weak without expecting a reward are basically anathema for the base power fantasies that largely come from light novels over the past decade and change, but even moreso that Haruka, loner that he is, keeps having to learn that he’s not going to get anywhere without surrounding himself with the right people and relying on their support. Battle shonen are usually pretty blatant with this stuff, but to see it spelled out so clearly in a series like this just hits right.
Wind Breaker looks terrific at just about every step, too. Every single thing I’ve seen from CloverWorks from the past few years has been a bop, which makes it that much more maddening that this is the studio that bungled the Persona 5 anime and supposedly botched The Promised Neverland in its second season. I get that not everything works out as planned sometimes but I find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop sometimes. I’m glad it’s been smooth so far, at least. Some pacing issues and a weird place to end the show, but I know for a fact I'll be there when this comes back in spring.
18. Laid-Back Camp, season 3
I am not immune to the Cute Girls Doing Cute Things genre, and when all is said and done I think Yuru Camp could very well stand alone at the top. A show this directly responsible for the uptick in camping culture and countryside tourism in Japan clearly holds some sway over pop culture, and it’s clearly deserved.
Returning to the present day after the 2022 film gave us a look at the Outdoor Club in adulthood, Yuru Camp’s third season gives us exactly what we wanted: More of the same. We largely focus on the solo expeditions of Rin, Nadeshiko, and the latter’s hometown friend Ayano as they trek to their collective meetup spot, and as the seasons change we get the entire gang together for some springtime hanami. It’s cute, it’s funny, it’s whimsical, it’s Yuru Camp. You know what you’re getting into at this point.
With studio Eightbit taking over the series in its third season, Yuru Camp still largely looks the same, and wonderfully so, but it can be a bit off at times: CGI vehicles look far more distractingly out-of-place, and for as gorgeous as the background art was in the first two seasons and movie, it can come across as a bit more uncanny this time out. I don’t know whether some of the shots of sakura branches were traced or run through some kind of AI post-processing from archival photos, and I hate to speculate on that, but given that this is the same studio that bafflingly under-animates the money printer that is Blue Lock, I can’t exactly put it past them.
Production quibbles aside, I can’t really complain about more Yuru Camp. It’s a bit lighter on plot than previous seasons, but this is a series that was light on plot to begin with. We get to spend time with these goofs, learn about camping and the Japanese countryside, and then maybe go touch grass ourselves. That’s a good message for a Cute Girls Doing Cute Things series to have: Go do your own cute things.
17. NieR: Automata Ver. 1.1a, part 2
The second half of this adaptation was going to be the metric by which fans of the 2017 action-RPG judged the whole work. The first half in 2023, covering the game’s A and B routes, was a solid if troubled production that did a good job of covering the narrative and action, even implementing surprising easter eggs from NieR Replicant along the way. Sloppy CGI integration in early episodes and a COVID-induced delay hampered things, though, so there were some nerves about the show’s return.
Any fears were quickly allayed once the second half of the series began, covering the real meat of the story in routes C-E. Ver. 1.1a immediately looked exceptional, with expressive character animation and fluid action sequences. Real pathos was instilled into the route’s early tragedies. Most welcome of all was the serious work put into expanding A2’s character and role in the story (as well as her backside). It felt like she’d gotten the short end of the stick narratively in the game, so it felt right to spend more time with her, tie her story in the present back to the past that was hinted at in the Resistance flashbacks, and just get to see her be a tsundere a couple times. I’m gonna have to go back and rewatch the whole series dubbed because I just know Cherami Leigh crushed it.
I’m of two minds about Ver. 1.1a as a whole: On one hand, this is just about as good an adaptation of the game as we probably could have gotten. On the other, a big part of what makes the NieR games’ narratives work so well comes from the fact that they could pretty much only be told through the framework of a video game. While Ver. 1.1a does a perfectly fine job of delivering the game’s narrative and providing its own take on the game’s extremely video-game-y ending, much of what makes NieR’s tragedies so impactful is the player’s agency (and occasional lack thereof) in these matters.
Nothing can replace actually playing NieR: Automata as a means of experiencing its story, but Ver. 1.1a is a darn good companion piece, and one that may even hint at the future of the Drakengard/NieR franchise. Now if only Yoko Taro would focus on something other than gacha games and death game anime for two seconds…
16. Train to the End of the World
The writer/director duo behind Squid Girl came back to give us one of the best and most bizarre original anime this year. Train to the End of the World is overtly and unapologetically weird, and that’s the way I like ‘em.
This weird and wonderful trek across a warped and wildly varied landscape dazzles the eyes and rots the brain in unexpected ways, but it’s a stellar character comedy through and through. Shuumatsu Train’s oddball protagonists are goofy, galaxy-brained, and sometimes flat-out mean in ways that only teenage girls can be. The dialogue is expertly written and some of the punchiest I’ve ever seen in anime. The girls bicker, mess with strangers, and engage in the kinds of inane conversations you only have when you’re the most bored you’ve ever been in your life.
While rarely laugh-out-loud funny, Train to the End of the World is intrinsically hilarious. The sheer absurdity on display is the kind that leaves you just shaking your head in disbelief. One episode they’re playing House of the Dead to get out of a real-life zombie situation, and in another they’re acting out their favorite fictional anime that you, the viewer, are just expected to know about already. It’s a stupid show in the smartest ways; a classical Homerian epic with ruminations on the future, but also one where the girls threaten to wipe out a Lilliputian colony by peeing on it. It’s both eschatological and scatological. With the recent discourse over modern adaptations and interpretations of The Odyssey, this anime might as well be the nuclear option.
Train to the End of the World was a standout in a strong spring season, but it didn’t shake out super high in a long and darn good year of anime. That’s fine and all, but I really hope it ends up attaining the cult hit status it seemed destined for.
15. Mayonaka Punch
This one had been distant on my radar for a couple of weeks after it premiered, but as soon as I found out it was a P.A. Works original, I picked it up immediately. Any original series by the studio that gave us Akiba Maid War’s glorious gut-wrenching insanity (as well as last year’s exceptional Skip and Loafer adaptation) is going to get my attention, and although Mayonaka Punch doesn’t quite reach the same highs as Akiba Maid War, it does try to match the latter’s most madcap moments.
I don’t have a better pitch than “Canceled YouTuber starts up a new channel with a house full of lesbian vampires,” nor do I really need one. Mayonaka Punch’s comedy largely revolves around the personality clash between the disaffected, avoidant Masaki and the pushy, hyperactive Live (who definitely wants Masaki for more than just her blood), but the whole cast is a riot. Throwing in a baby day trader, a taciturn fujoshi, and a big-titty pachinko fiend are just the right spices to make this a particularly tasty stew.
Chaos naturally ensues, and watching these women try to channel it into a successful YouTube channel is an easy recipe for comedy. Everyone has terrific chemistry and I was rapt with attention every time we got to learn more about each of these vampire girls’ history. What came as a huge surprise, though, was how potent some of the emotional hits ended up, even when it involved characters outside of the main pairing. The fact that the biggest one came in just the fourth episode was a masterstroke; I was already on board for the comedy but just like that I was fully invested in a character other than the one who wants to suck the protagonist dry. I’m not rephrasing that.
This one absolutely deserves to be a cult classic, and the door is left open just maddeningly enough at the end that I can only pray for more. Mayonaka Punch is a boatload of fun and deserves way more attention than it’s gotten. You can change that. Right now. Watch this show.
Prior to writing this, Fairouz Ai (Live’s voice actress and a huge presence in a handful of the shows I’ve already discussed) announced that she would be taking a hiatus from VA work following a PTSD diagnosis. I wish her all of the time, recovery, and support she needs.
14. Urusei Yatsura (2022), season 2
The opening salvo in the ongoing Rumiko Takahashi revival (weird thing to say about a mangaka who’s still alive and working, I know) returned this year for the second half of its “all-stars” run, marathoning us through retellings of the classic manga’s greatest hits, the oddest of its many oddballs, and its spectacular, heartfelt conclusion. More Lum is always a good thing.
I’ve written plenty about Urusei Yatsura’s remake following each cour except the first, and I don’t have much more to add at this point. It’s a classic for a reason and it laid the foundations for dozens of jokes, tropes, and standards that are fundamental to comedy in anime to this day. Even when some of the jokes may come off as trite or tropey, it’s easy to see just how and why it made Takahashi so successful. The exaggerated slice-of-life hijinks, outsized slapstick, and time-and-space surrealness are just as much of a treat as the deep, eclectic cast. And to top it all off, here’s Ataru and Lum being a couple of freaks who deserve each other.
Even though the 46-episode run certainly feels truncated compared to the 191 episodes, six films, and ten OVAs that came before it, David Production did a fine job of putting a modern touch on such a classic work and highlighting its strengths. And even though most of the run was an abridged run through the greatest hits, I’m really glad the studio made sure to dedicate the last few episodes to the manga’s final arc, bringing Lum and Ataru together in a beautiful and (briefly) satisfying climax.
And even for as satisfying as that ending was, it was nearly overshadowed by…
13. Ranma ½ (2024)
…the revival of Takahashi’s biggest hit.
Yes, right on the heels of the ending of the remake of her landmark romcom classic, came the announcement that her even BIGGER landmark romcom classic was also getting a remake. Ranma ½ is one of the hallmarks of 90s anime writ large, working late-80s Japan’s fascination with Chinese martial arts (partially due to Dragon Ball’s success) into a romantic-comedy framework that also accidentally served as the genesis of the harem genre. I’d somehow never actually engaged with Ranma prior to the remake, so I was happy to get in on a new ground floor and I was immediately sold.
As the youngest daughter of the Tendo Dojo, Akane Tendo is put in a predicament when her father betrothes her (at her sisters’ urging) to his friend’s son, Ranma Saotome. Though both are skilled fighters and a good match in that regard, Akane is a bit of a hothead and doesn’t much care for boys, so she’s not a fan of this arrangement, but it’s made all the more bizarre by the fact that Ranma is also a girl sometimes. Thanks to a bizarre accident in China, Ranma turns into a girl when soaked with cold water and back into a boy when hit with hot water. Shenanigans ensue as Ranma and Akane’s contentious relationship hits innumerable peaks and valleys, all the while fighting off an ever-growing menagerie of powerful, fight-happy suitors gunning for the hands and lips of Akane and both versions of Ranma.
MAPPA of all studios being the one to re-adapt Ranma came as a surprise, and you probably could’ve convinced me David Production took over this Takahashi adaptation as well. Ranma’s remake adopts several of the same visual flairs you’d see in Urusei Yatsura, including the Ben Day dots, color inversions, and manga-style onscreen onomatopoeias. On the other hand, while most of the moment-to-moment character animation is pretty much what you’d expect from any given anime, several of the action sequences are very well-animated to MAPPA’s typically high standard. I just hope the animators weren’t getting the Chainsaw Man or Jujutsu Kaisen treatment.
Ranma ½ is as hilarious as ever, but it can get a little wonky thematically when it comes to gender politics, boundaries, and expectations, as I’d been made aware before ever engaging with the work. I also knew from the Urusei Yatsura remake that this was basically Takahashi’s wheelhouse, as there are a couple of pretty genderbendy characters in there as well. Several of the male antagonists in Ranma are more than a little pushy when it comes to women who catch their eye, and a lot of the humor around Ranma’s gender swaps revolves around how their male socialization affects the lack of modesty with which they present their female form (more on that later). People who are much better versed in gender matters than myself, both academically and personally, can speak on the positives and negatives of these things much better than I can, and it’s too early in the series for me to really make a judgment call. I do think it’s odd, though, that even with the central romance, Akane doesn’t seem to remotely entertain the thought of getting involved with Ranma’s female side, and unfortunately I don’t really see that ever happening. So far, all of these things just come across as flat-out silly and more of a product of its time than anything nefarious.
The original Ranma ½ adaptation remains a seminal work for a solid generation and a half of anime fans, so of course a remake was going to be met with some criticism. Some didn’t appreciate the more muted color palette compared to the late 80s/early 90s Studio Deen version, and while it’s certainly missing some of the flair of the hand-painted backgrounds and saturated lighting effects the medium has missed since that era, I personally like the softer hues; I find them a lot more reminiscent of Rumiko Takahashi’s own colorations for her art outside of the manga. It’s not as technicolor as the Urusei Yatsura remake, but I think that actually helps set the new Ranma apart rather than riding the former’s coattails.
The main difference people seem to be complaining about, however, has more to do with boobs. Takahashi has never been shy about including nudity in her manga, and in an era where uncensored bazongas were perfectly fine to publish in boys’ manga magazines, she was typically more matter-of-fact about the female form instead of pursuing titillation. As such, a story like Ranma’s, in which its title character is typically blase about presenting their female incarnation modestly, had a lot to work with on that front, and the original anime played along.
Not so with the MAPPA version. Nipples are conspicuously missing in scenes that legitimately do call for nudity, and an ass crack appears to be missing from an early scene as well. Personally, I don’t mind the Barbie doll treatment, and as I’d been reading the manga as the anime’s story progressed, I didn't find all that much missing in the transition from page to screen. Weebs tend to convince themselves they’re the most oppressed people on earth, so of course there were cries of censorship, which is a claim I don’t really care to entertain. These are different times, broadcast regulations in Japan are almost certainly different from what they were 35 years ago, and Netflix and/or MAPPA likely didn’t see the need for it. Could be any of those things. I’m not losing sleep over it.
And with that, I’m done talking about Rumiko Takahashi (for now). I’m grateful for everything related to her work, even tangentially, that came out this year, and my life is richer for it. I’m glad to have gotten into her work in earnest this year, and I can say with all conviction (hot take incoming) that she’s one of the greatest mangaka ever. I look forward to diving further into even more of her work.
12. The Elusive Samurai
I’d have been perfectly happy if Wind Breaker had been CloverWorks’ only beautifully-animated oddball shonen hit this year, and then they went and outdid themselves the very next season with this one.
The Elusive Samurai is a gorgeous, timeless-looking piece of historical fiction beginning at the very end of the Kamakura period, following the last survivor of the Hojo clan, the young Tokiyuki, as he’s urged by an eccentric priest to lead a pack of freedom fighters and take revenge. Despite coming from a prominent family within the shogunate, Tokiyuki was an impertinent kid and preferred to play hide-and-seek instead of attending any combat training. The priest, Yorishige, receives a vision of the future that predicts that Tokiyuki will fell his family’s usurper not by becoming a powerful warrior, but by doing what he’s already best at: Being a squirrelly little shit.
I just gushed about how good this show looks three months ago, and even now I’m thinking back fondly on how well it blends whimsy with brutality. You can have Yorishige and the kids goofing off and cracking jokes one minute and vibrant crimson beheadings the next. Even little Tokiyuki makes a joyful game out of slicing a bandit’s veins to ribbons later in the season. It feels like a callback to anime films and OVAs of the 80s, with the film grain effect to match. Almost every single thing about this show looks and sounds incredible.
Of course, there’s the CGI. I really don’t like complaining about that sort of thing, but it was such a blatant and unnecessary cost-cutting move that it almost cheapens the rest of the show. Look, I get that horses can be a pain to hand-animate after a while, but having characters’s CGI models speaking while riding on horseback is just enough to take me out of the show, especially when they already look as bizarre as, say, Sadamune. How that passed muster with the rest of the show’s standard is beyond me.
So, maybe I did dock it a spot or two for that, but I see that as a wrinkle that can be ironed out. The Elusive Samurai is absurdly promising, and its debut season is a tremendous statement. Can’t wait for more.
11. Makeine: Too Many Losing Heroines!
As I made clear last year by putting 100 Girlfriends’ debut season in my top ten for 2023, for as much as I love a good straight-up romance story, I have ample room in my heart for trashy dipshit romcoms as well. Makeine shares that affection and forges its own identity from it, establishing its own throne atop a hill of garbage.
This is not a “yeah it’s good if you can look past the tropes” show. Makeine is firmly on its bullshit, and it is firmly about its bullshit. It’s not nearly as off-the-wall as 100 Girlfriends, few shows are, but it’s well aware of your expectations and leaves you guessing whether you’ll have them expertly subverted or just thrown right back in your face. Even the protagonist, the light novel fanatic Nukumizu, is calling out the tropes as they happen, but it’s been a fun time watching him learn that he’s more than just a wet-blanket LN protagonist. He thinks he’s just along for the ride like any other blank-faced self-insert in these stories, as gets roped into the personal lives of these poor girls and learns that, yes, they are real people and that, yes, he is too.
I could go on and on about Too Many Losing Heroines’ idiosyncrasies and offbeat characters and punchy dialogue, but I did that plenty just a few months ago. Instead, I want to call attention once more to just how freakishly well-made this show is. A-1 Pictures had zero reason to go this hard on a goofy, trashy light novel romcom adaptation, and yet here they were, throwing their A-team at the whole project. Character animations are intricate, background art is sumptuous, lighting effects immaculate, and music on point at all times. The OP is an earworm (and one of a surprising number of ska intros and outros I’ve taken in this year), and having each of the main titular heroines perform her own story-appropriate ED was a masterstroke. Even the visual gags are perfect and allowed to land on their own.
I already cannot wait for more of this. If A-1 has given us all we’re going to get of the Kaguya-sama anime, then I’m as all-in on Makeine as they are. Not the best romcom out there, but easily one of the best-made out there.
#anime reviews#solo leveling#wind breaker#yuru camp#train to the end of the world#mayonaka punch#urusei yatsura#ranma 1/2#the elusive samurai#makeine
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PROPAGANDA UNDERCUT!!!!
also i will be continuing murderbot dairies no matter what so it's not on here :3c
Mystery, Thriller, SciFi, books are around 300-400 pages
The plot surrounds Secret Service agent Ethan Burke's introduction to the remote small town of Wayward Pines, his new home from which he cannot escape. The residents of this picturesque town do not know how they got there and are forbidden to talk about their prior lives. An electric fence surrounds the town, and the residents are under 24-hour surveillance. The mysteries and horrors of the town build until Ethan discovers its secret. Then he must do his part to keep Wayward Pines protected from threats both within and beyond the fence. The series covers themes of isolation, bucolic Americana, time-displacement, man vs nature, human evolution, and cryonics.[citation needed] Crouch has acknowledged that he was inspired by the 1990–91 TV series Twin Peaks.[1]
Space Opera, LGBT, SciFi, books are around 300-400 pages
Follow a motley crew on an exciting journey through space-and one adventurous young explorer who discovers the meaning of family in the far reaches of the universe-in this light-hearted debut space opera from a rising sci-fi star.
i have been informed the pilot of the ship is in love with the ships ai and there's wire touching. so. you know
Horror, Thriller, Lovecraftian, SciFi, books are around 400-500 pages
The Threshold Universe is an ongoing book series written by Peter Clines and begins with the novel 14 published in 2012. The other books in the series included The Fold (2015), Dead Moon (2018), and Terminus (2020). Padlocked doors. Strange light fixtures. Mutant cockroaches. There are some odd things about Nate’s new apartment. Of course, he has other things on his mind. He hates his job. He has no money in the bank. No girlfriend. No plans for the future. So while his new home isn’t perfect, it’s livable. The rent is low, the property managers are friendly, and the odd little mysteries don’t nag at him too much. At least, not until he meets Mandy, his neighbour across the hall, and notices something unusual about her apartment. And Xela’s apartment. And Tim’s. And Veek’s. Because every room in this old Los Angeles brownstone has a mystery or two. Mysteries that stretch back over a hundred years. Some of them are in plain sight. Some are behind locked doors. And all together these mysteries could mean the end of Nate and his friends. Or the end of everything...
this series is Strange and every book feels entirely disconnected from the last in terms of desc so i included the first books desc... they ARE connected things just. go crazy i guess...........
Mystery, Thriller, Fantasy, SciFi, each book is around 300 pages
A girl named Rose is riding her new bike near her home in Deadwood, South Dakota, when she falls through the earth. She wakes up at the bottom of a square-shaped hole, its walls glowing with intricate carvings. But the firemen who come to save her peer down upon something even stranger: a little girl in the palm of a giant metal hand. Seventeen years later, the mystery of the bizarre artifact remains unsolved - the object's origins, architects, and purpose unknown. Carbon dating defies belief; military reports are redacted; theories are floated, then rejected. But some can never stop searching for answers. Rose Franklin is now a highly trained physicist leading a top-secret team to crack the hand's code. And along with her colleagues, she is being interviewed by a nameless interrogator whose power and purview are as enigmatic as the relic they seek. What's clear is that Rose and her compatriots are on the edge of unraveling history's most perplexing discovery, and finally figuring out what it portends for humanity. But once the pieces of the puzzle are in place, will the result be an instrument of lasting peace or a weapon of mass destruction?
Cyberpunk, War, Dystopia, Fantasy, SciFi, books are 300-350 pages
My name is Rex. I am a good dog. Rex is also seven foot tall at the shoulder, bulletproof, bristling with heavy calibre weaponry and his voice resonates with subsonics especially designed to instil fear. With Dragon, Honey and Bees, he's part of a Multiform Assault Pack operating in the lawless anarchy of Campeche, south-eastern Mexico. Rex is a genetically engineered Bioform, a deadly weapon in a dirty war. He has the intelligence to carry out his orders and feedback implants to reward him when he does. All he wants to be is a Good Dog. And to do that he must do exactly what Master says and Master says he's got to kill a lot of enemies. But who, exactly, are the enemies? What happens when Master is tried as a war criminal? What rights does the Geneva Convention grant weapons? Do Rex and his fellow Bioforms even have a right to exist? And what happens when Rex slips his leash?
Horror, Fantasy, Gothic, Mystery, both books are around 140 pages
When Alex Easton, a retired soldier, receives word that their childhood friend Madeline Usher is dying, they race to the ancestral home of the Ushers in the remote countryside of Ruravia. What they find there is a nightmare of fungal growths and possessed wildlife, surrounding a dark, pulsing lake. Madeline sleepwalks and speaks in strange voices at night, and her brother Roderick is consumed with a mysterious malady of the nerves. Aided by a redoubtable British mycologist and a baffled American doctor, Alex must unravel the secret of the House of Usher before it consumes them all.
seen this get recommended to annihilation fans are bunch...
Mystery, Thriller, Crime, Fantasy, SciFi, Queer, first book is 450 pages, second book isn't out yet
In Daretana’s most opulent mansion, a high Imperial officer lies dead—killed, to all appearances, when a tree spontaneously erupted from his body. Even in this canton at the borders of the Empire, where contagions abound and the blood of the Leviathans works strange magical changes, it’s a death at once terrifying and impossible. Called in to investigate this mystery is Ana Dolabra, an investigator whose reputation for brilliance is matched only by her eccentricities. At her side is her new assistant, Dinios Kol. Din is an engraver, magically altered to possess a perfect memory. His job is to observe and report, and act as his superior’s eyes and ears--quite literally, in this case, as among Ana’s quirks are her insistence on wearing a blindfold at all times, and her refusal to step outside the walls of her home. Din is most perplexed by Ana’s ravenous appetite for information and her mind’s frenzied leaps—not to mention her cheerful disregard for propriety and the apparent joy she takes in scandalizing her young counterpart. Yet as the case unfolds and Ana makes one startling deduction after the next, he finds it hard to deny that she is, indeed, the Empire’s greatest detective. As the two close in on a mastermind and uncover a scheme that threatens the safety of the Empire itself, Din realizes he’s barely begun to assemble the puzzle that is Ana Dolabra—and wonders how long he’ll be able to keep his own secrets safe from her piercing intellect. Featuring an unforgettable Holmes-and-Watson style pairing, a gloriously labyrinthine plot, and a haunting and wholly original fantasy world, The Tainted Cup brilliantly reinvents the classic mystery tale.
ive got NO idea why this has the queer tag on goodreads but if these 2 holmes and watson likes end up being faggots together i am HERE i need to be HERE
Horror, Mystery, Thriller, Adventure, Paranormal, Fantasy, SciFi, books are 350-400 pages long
Not all secrets are meant to be found. If Indiana Jones lived in the X-Files era, he might bear at least a passing resemblance to Nolan Moore -- a rogue archaeologist hosting a documentary series derisively dismissed by the "real" experts, but beloved of conspiracy theorists. Nolan sets out to retrace the steps of an explorer from 1909 who claimed to have discovered a mysterious cavern high up in the ancient rock of the Grand Canyon. And, for once, he may have actually found what he seeks. Then the trip takes a nasty turn, and the cave begins turning against them in mysterious ways. Nolan's story becomes one of survival against seemingly impossible odds. The only way out is to answer a series of intriguing questions: What is this strange cave? How has it remained hidden for so long? And what secret does it conceal that made its last visitors attempt to seal it forever?
Cosy Mystery, Fantasy, SciFi, LGBT, both books are around 120 pages
Centuries before, robots of Panga gained self-awareness, laid down their tools, wandered, en masse into the wilderness, never to be seen again. They faded into myth and urban legend.Now the life of the tea monk who tells this story is upended by the arrival of a robot, there to honor the old promise of checking in. The robot cannot go back until the question of "what do people need?" is answered. But the answer to that question depends on who you ask, and how. They will need to ask it a lot. Chambers' series asks: in a world where people have what they want, does having more matter?
Mystery, Thriller, Crime, Espionage, Spy, books average to around 300 pages but there's.. a lot of books..... i have 9 books and 1 novella in this series
John le Carré classic novels deftly navigate readers through the intricate shadow worlds of international espionage with unsurpassed skill and knowledge, and have earned him -- and his hero, British Secret Service Agent George Smiley, who is introduced in this, his first novel -- unprecedented worldwide acclaim. George Smiley had liked Samuel Fennan, and now Fennan was dead from an apparent suicide. But why? Fennan, a Foreign Office man, had been under investigation for alleged Communist Party activities, but Smiley had made it clear that the investigation -- little more than a routine security check -- was over and that the file on Fennan could be closed. The very next day, Fennan was found dead with a note by his body saying his career was finished and he couldn't go on. Smiley was puzzled...
jeff vandermeer said le carré's work inspired authority which is my favourite book of all time . so. i'm interested
Post Apocalpytic, Dystopia, Space Opera, Fantasy, SciFi, books are 400-600 pages
A race for survival among the stars... Humanity's last survivors escaped earth's ruins to find a new home. But when they find it, can their desperation overcome its dangers? WHO WILL INHERIT THIS NEW EARTH? The last remnants of the human race left a dying Earth, desperate to find a new home among the stars. Following in the footsteps of their ancestors, they discover the greatest treasure of the past age—a world terraformed and prepared for human life. But all is not right in this new Eden. In the long years since the planet was abandoned, the work of its architects has borne disastrous fruit. The planet is not waiting for them, pristine and unoccupied. New masters have turned it from a refuge into mankind's worst nightmare. Now two civilizations are on a collision course, both testing the boundaries of what they will do to survive. As the fate of humanity hangs in the balance, who are the true heirs of this new Earth?
ive been told theres evolved jumping spiders in this and like. im here for that. my god am i here for that
Weird Fiction, Post Apocalyptic, Dystopia, Fantasy, SciFi, books are 200-300 pages
In a ruined, nameless city of the future, a woman named Rachel, who makes her living as a scavenger, finds a creature she names “Borne” entangled in the fur of Mord, a gigantic, despotic bear. Mord once prowled the corridors of the biotech organization known as the Company, which lies at the outskirts of the city, until he was experimented on, grew large, learned to fly and broke free. Driven insane by his torture at the Company, Mord terrorizes the city even as he provides sustenance for scavengers like Rachel.
jeff vandermeeeerrr..... also i love how he has a book called strange bird and a character called ghost bird in southern reach....
Weird Fiction, New Weird, Horror, Steampunk, Speculative Fiction, Fantasy, SciFi, the omnibus is 1.5k pages long
Before Area X, there was Ambergris. Jeff VanderMeer conceived what would become his first cult classic series of speculative works: the Ambergris Trilogy. Now, for the first time ever, the story of the sprawling metropolis of Ambergris is collected into a single volume, including City of Saints and Madmen, Shriek: An Afterword, and Finch. In City of Saints and Madmen, Jeff VanderMeer has reinvented the literature of the fantastic. You hold in your hands an invitation to a place unlike any you’ve ever visited–an invitation delivered by one of our most audacious and astonishing literary magicians. City of elegance and squalor. Of religious fervor and wanton lusts. And everywhere, on the walls of courtyards and churches, an incandescent fungus of mysterious and ominous origin. In Ambergris, a would-be suitor discovers that a sunlit street can become a killing ground in the blink of an eye. An artist receives an invitation to a beheading–and finds himself enchanted. And a patient in a mental institution is convinced he’s made up a city called Ambergris, imagined its every last detail, and that he’s really from a place called Chicago.… By turns sensuous and terrifying, filled with exotica and eroticism, this interwoven collection of stories, histories, and “eyewitness” reports invokes a universe within a puzzlebox where you can lose–and find–yourself again.
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moon river // part two
summary: people in lincoln county are dropping dead alongside their livestock, the wells are running dry and children are prompted from their beds to wander unconsciously in the night. billy has been hired as a last resort by the lawmen as a bounty hunter, charged with the task of hunting and killing the witch responsible in exchange for a reward and the clearing of his name. how could he turn that down?
pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader
wc: 2k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: witch!reader x bounty hunter!billy, warning for like,,, witchcraft and stuff i suppose?? mentions of death, minor amounts of gore and animal mutilation. devil worship and other supernatural/biblical tea. also angst. probably.
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist
To you, Billy was a reluctant friend slowly wrapping vines of ivy around your ankles and up your calves. You didn't mind the itch of his constant presence on your mind, especially when the final destination of its growth was your heart. You were too busy setting up the trellis to be concerned about keeping it trimmed, anyway.
He would come and go from your forest home like the change of seasons that turned more and more often as time went on. He'd sit with you while you tended the graves, and spend afternoons with you in your cabin while you baked fresh bread or cookies, willing to eat whatever you made even if he couldn't for the life of him figure out where your ingredients came from.
"You know," You hum one day, sitting on a blanket outside your little cabin that was almost as covered in ivy as you felt. "You are lucky the town isn't really cursed."
Billy scoffs out a laugh from his spot next to you, laid back on the blanket with his hat over his face to simulate a nap in the sun he wasn't truly taking. "Yeah, I'd say so."
"Well, of course, but what I mean is that you folks went about it all wrong." You explain, closing and placing the book in your lap to the side. "With a curse of that magnitude, typically it culminates with the casting witch's death. So if you had found them and killed them like you planned, it would've only gotten worse."
"Darlin', sounds like you're still pleading with me for your life." Billy chuckles, lifting his hat a little bit to be able to look over at you from beneath its shade. He's met with his favourite view, you, with the sunlight dancing off your skin and gleaming with the strength of your smile.
You roll your eyes playfully, gently picking up some stray leaves of grass from the blanket and tossing them aside. "I know you're not gonna kill me," You giggle, "and you know I'm not responsible."
"That I do." He confirms, pushing himself to sit up. He takes in the view surrounding your home, the trees that encase this little paradise made up of a small frog pond and an unsurprisingly extensive garden. You grew nearly everything you ate out here, the forest providing you with a perfect amount of sun to help them grow and rain to help them thrive. That's what he assumed, anyway.
"It is, anyway though. Gettin' worse." He mumbles after a few moments of contemplative quiet, helping you dust off the blanket and peeking casually over at the cover of your book. The Eldritch Arbetorum I. He knows less than nothing about what that means, but part of him wishes he could.
"The crops and such? I'm sorry to hear that." You frown, chewing on your lip while you think about it. Maybe there was something you could do, but you doubted the townsfolk would let you get close enough for a long enough period to try. "What about the animals?"
"Every week, like clockwork." Billy replies with a click of his tongue and the slightest shake of his head.
You chew on your lip, watching him closely. It's weighing on him, you can tell. From what he's told you he's a wanted man, yes, but he has a good heart. You know that much for sure. Even when he came all this way carting a bullet with your name, he was doing it to save people.
"What about..." You start, hesitating on how to ask this. "The local children? All are well?"
Billy scrunches up his nose a bit in thought, still avoiding your eyes. "Well enough, from what I know. None have died, at least. I hear whispers that some are sick."
Your cat, Dante, scurries through the grass and onto the blanket beside you, chirping toward you as he crawls up onto your lap. Instinctively you let your hands find comfort in his fluffy orange fur, taking in Billy's words.
The children are okay, that's all that really matters.
"Good, that's good." You say softly, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm sure they will recover well. I'll send you back with some tonic, if you would be willing to leave it with the parents. Something that should help."
"Yeah... yeah, that would be nice." Billy's already considering how exactly he would go about that- not many folks liked an outlaw dampening their doorsteps. Especially not to give them something for their kids to drink. He would have to leave it on the porch with a note, or something. Then it would be up to them to decide how desperate they were for a solution to their kids plight. "Why do you ask, though? About the kids."
Your eyebrows raise slightly in shock, and it takes you a second to respond. A second in which Dante takes the opportunity to glare at Billy, a low growl leaving his tiny form. He had yet to forgive Billy for trying to take his mom from him, though it was a mystery how he knew about that. Or maybe it was the fact that he hadn't met another living soul in the five years of his short life in which he had been out here in the woods with you, but Dante made it clear at every turn that he did not like your new friend.
You gently pat the cat's head to get him to stop, which he promptly does, before you come up with an answer.
"I was just wondering." You say, tilting your head with a smile that's mildly dismissive. "You know, if people are falling ill. I was hoping the kids would be spared."
"Yeah, fair enough." Billy agrees, his eyes darting between you and your fluffy orange companion. He tended to become a lot more skittish around Dante, ironically enough- but that likely came from being bit and swatted at by tiny claws one too many times over the last few weeks.
You reach over the edge of a blanket to a nearby flower blossoming from the healthy dirt that surrounded your home, swirling your hand around its unopened petals. Your action seems to encourage it to bloom, and Billy watches, his smile returning and the worried crease in his brow ceasing as you gently pluck the stem from the ground. "For you."
He was in awe of you at every turn, his cheeks flushing as he takes the flower from your extended hand. "Thank you, darlin'." He grins, turning the stem to look at it before looking up at you again. "I ain't ever been given a flower before. That's sweet of you."
He brings it up to his nose to smell its purple petals in a somewhat dramatic gesture before grabbing his hat and tucking it under the black ribbon around the outside. "You like it?" He asks as he places it back on his head.
"Yeah." You giggle, nodding as you look at the new accessory to his hat. It wouldn't last forever, but for now, it was cute. Even as it further blurred the lines of what your relationship was. Though, that was mostly your doing by gifting him a flower in the first place. "Purple is a good colour on you, I think."
"Ah, thanks, sunshine." He chuckles, removing the hat to examine it further. "It suits you a bit more, I'm not much for colours myself."
"You like blue, though." You reply, pleased to move on from the anxiety inducing topic of the problems going on in town. "And that red sweater."
"That's true." He admits, shrugging slightly. "My ma always dressed me in blue, though. She gave me that sweater too, matter of fact."
"A mother's touch, I see. She had good taste. As most mothers do." You say, with that same lighthearted tone that keeps him coming back to visit you. That, among a variety of other things, being just about everything about the energy you exude in waves. A silent battle he's been waging in his mind for a long time now; whether you get your power from the forest or if it gets it from you. Secretly, he's leaning toward the latter.
The topic of his family was something he hated breaching in the best of times, but your voice, sweet like honey in his ears makes it easier. You seem to do that with everything you touch.
When the skies outside of the forest started darkening in the coming weeks, perpetually clouded but never granting the county a drop of its refreshing rain, people got more anxious. It was like a palpable negativity in the air, crowding the increasingly empty main street. It was nearly always quiet, never a direct threat but people were packing up and leaving based on the energy in the air alone- and Billy couldn't blame them in the slightest.
It was noon, around midday, he was sure- when the overcast and dim sky provided enough cover for a break in. About twenty yards prior he'd dismounted to lead her, after she started to get clearly irritated and not want to take the worn path they normally did to get to the edge of your forest.
The sound of glass shattering at a nearby home drowns out the crickets song, making Billy turn his head toward the commotion coming from the ranch home not far off. Then the screaming, a woman's scream- the scream of a mother losing a child, a cry he had heard before and rocked him to his core in a way that made his stomach turn and his feet move in that direction against his will.
Dante alerted you to Billy's near arrival, high pitched meows quickly approaching the porch as he hops up onto the window sill in your little cottage kitchen.
"Oh, hush- it's just Billy." You scold him with a slight laugh, reaching up to ruffle the cats fur. The insistent meows continued, and you could feel the prick of his upturned hairs, which told you something was wrong, this time. It was Billy though, you could feel his energy in the air. The usual dreary grey feeling of loss and loneliness normally overshadowed by his cheerful blue, the weight of his good intentions falling dull to the sadness this afternoon.
You glance out the window, brow furrowing slightly as you quickly hang the last few bits of lavender to dry on the twine to be draped over the rafters this evening. Brushing your hands off on the front of your skirt and hurrying to the door, you're not sure what happened or what you're about to be met with, but Dante follows dutifully.
"Billy?" You call, just as he comes into the clearing, having forced his horse to carry him quicker through the trail he would normally take on foot, through the thick trees and branches that this time parted to let him through.
He jumps down from his horse, narrowly avoiding falling into your little pond and disturbing the family of toads you know don't like to be unsettled during the late afternoon.
You reach out with a slight wince, but relax when he steps over the edge of the water in his effort to get to you, digging into his pocket and holding out his flask with urgency as he grabs your upper arm, startling you away from your relief that the toads would be okay.
Billy's eyes are wide, hair mussed under his hat and breathing slightly shallow as you look up at him with a confused furrow to your brow.
"Can you tell me what's in here?"
no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!
#billy the kid 2022#billy the kid x reader#billy the kid x you#billy the kid#william h bonney x reader#william h bonney x you#tom blyth#william bonney#billy the kid fanfiction#billy the kid imagines#william bonney x you#william bonney x reader#william h bonney
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Uncoupled - April
Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader
Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.
Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?
WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.
SERIES MASTER LIST
March
---
Joel stood by the maternity ward window, his nephew in his arms. He was besotted. He knew from that first moment he saw Jackson that he would do anything for that little boy. Tommy looked like a different man. There was a bounce to his steps, a puff in his chest, Joel thought. He looked happy, content and terrified all at the same time.
You were hugging Maria for the fifth time since you got there, so happy for this new friend you’d only met less than a year ago but had become someone so near and dear to your heart.
“So, let me get this straight,” Joel whispered, worried he would wake his brand new nephew, who was sleeping contentedly in his arms. “You didn’t call me when your wife went into labour? She must’ve been in labour for hours before you called me.”
“Yeah, she started having contractions yesterday afternoon. But her water only broke this morning,” Tommy told his big brother, both their eyes still on little Jackson. “Not like you could help make the labour go faster. Ten hours passed before he came out.”
Jackson started fussing, squirming in his uncle’s strong arms, before early signs of an uncomfortable cry began.
“Maybe he wants to feed,” Maria said, “Lil, can you?”
Joel passed Jackson to you. The little boy immediately stopped squirming, stretching a little before snuggling in your arms, one of his eyes opened, staring at you, the other still closed.
“He winked at me!” you whispered excitedly.
“He likes his Auntie Lily…” Maria cooed as you held her son next to her bed. She looked exhausted.
You rocked your body side to side, humming a little tune you used to hum to Ellie when you were holding her in Annie’s hospital room back when she was just born. Oh, you loved him already. You couldn’t help the coos and awws that escaped your mouth as you studied the little man’s face, finger caressing his little cheek.
Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you. Now that he knew you were not against going out on dates with him, he couldn’t stop planning. Sure, seeing you with Ellie was one thing, but you with a baby…
“You know, if you want one of those with her, you need to let her know how you feel about her first,” his Mama’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
He turned around to see if you were watching, you were not; still fixated on little Jackson. “I did, Mama,” he told her. Anita smiled, looking extremely satisfied. “We’re going on a date next weekend.”
“Glad to know,” she said, giving her son a small nudge with her shoulder.
**********
When you and Joel got home that night, both of you were exhausted. You had been out the entire day. After a quick but much needed shower, you changed into your PJs and joined Joel in the living room, already in his own sleepwear, channel surfing.
Unlike the other nights before, you sat right up next to him this time, wanting the warmth of his body on yours, and he didn’t protest, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in to snuggle up to him, fingers lazily tracing your arm up and down.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he asked if he could ask you something.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me asking you out?”
You nodded. “Can I ask you something now?”
He nodded.
“How long have you wanted to ask me out?”
He didn’t know, exactly, he said. But he knew he liked you, that he was comfortable with you, that he imagined you and Ellie to be his family, all that. He realized that he liked you, liked you, for sure around Christmas, feeling extremely disappointed that you didn’t want to kiss him, and fell deeper for you since. But when Benny came, he was so scared that he had lost his chance of asking you out forever, so he’d been practicing asking you out since then.
“So Ellie was not kidding?”
“No, I didn’t even realize she was in the kitchen, really. I wouldn’t have said anything out loud if I had known.”
You laughed. But needed to ask, “Why me? I mean, I don’t look like Jen, like Lucy, and you… I mean, have you seen you? You could have anyone. Why me?”
He looked to be thinking for a while, before asking you a question. “You said you would’ve said yes if I had asked you out, right? Do you… like me, like me?”
You bit your lower lips, closed one eye and cringed to yourself before nodding, so worried that he would laugh at you, that everything he’d been telling you was a joke, a dream, your imagination.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Like I said, you’re used to being with Jen. And you have Lucy running after you. Even that Diana lady looked like one of the housewives on Wisteria Lane, I don’t look like them.”
“No, you don’t,” he said. You looked at your hand, worried about he might say next. “You’re a lot more beautiful than they will ever be. You’re gorgeous in my eyes, Williams,” he continued, caressing your face with his fingers.
“Why didn’t you ask me out sooner?”
“Because you kept telling me you were not ready to date. And because I’m an idiot. And a chickenshit.”
You were about to laugh, but caught his expression, a self-doubting one. He took a deep breath.
“Also, I’m no Max. I can’t give you the things he used to give you, the things he’s still giving you,” he said, defeated.
“You talking about the purse?”
He nodded. “I can’t afford that purse ever, how could I compete with him? I’m just a teacher who sometimes work part-time with my brother for fun. And even that, since I moved in with you, with Ellie, I would rather spend my time at home with you guys on my days off.”
He was no longer looking you in the eyes, suddenly becoming extremely interested in his own feet.
You took his face in your hands, making him look at you.
“Have you ever seen me use that purse?”
“No, but I figured…”
“Nope, I was never gonna use that purse.”
“But…”
“I accepted it because it’s valuable, I was gonna sell it to buy stuff for the house. Flooring. Hardwood flooring. I hate these carpets.”
He looked at you in bewilderment. What?
“I never cared about his money. I just wanted him. The old him. The one who knew I would never use that purse. It’s garish, loud, blingy. He buys them because me wearing them makes him look good. I don’t care about that. I like you, simply because you’re you. You make time for us, you spend time with us. Honestly that’s all I want in a relationship. That, and fidelity. And he used to give me those, until money became his main focus. And of course, Jen.”
You looked so sad he pulled you back into his arms, rubbing your back, comforting you until you calmed down. Without letting you go, he told you about Jen and her ‘beauty’. How much money she spent to look like that, and every time she came home looking more beautiful, more confident, the more cruel and callous she became, and he found his love for her died a little each time, for one more thing he used to love about her had disappeared along with whatever she had surgically fixed.
“So, while I think you are stunning, I do not find Jen or Lucy beautiful at all. They hold no candle to you.”
“So, we’ve both been insecure for nothing?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Both of you laughed at yourselves, before going back to a comfortable silence, just holding on to each other.
When he walked you to your bedroom that night, he gave you a lingering peck on the cheek. You had both decided neither of you were quite ready for anything physical – nothing more than whatever you were doing in the living room. Plus, it’s all so new. You had just confessed your feelings to one another. And more to the point, you each had only been with one person in your lives. Let’s not jump the gun. The fact that you were still married to someone else was just an added excuse to hold your horses for a while. And a five year old was coming back to live with you the next day. You needed to be responsible here.
So yeah. A peck on the cheek and a few snuggles here and there were enough.
For now.
**********
The two of you spent Sunday planting your purchase in the backyard, spending time side by side, giving each other hugs and innocent kisses on the cheek, blushing every time one would look at the other. You felt as if you were back in high school, crushing on the handsome boy in the next class. You found excuses to be by each other’s side all the while you were working, just laughing with each other, teasing each other, making stupid jokes and mindless chit chats.
You had a slightly late dinner by the firepit, shoulders touching, reminiscing about the times you had spent in the garden. You told him about your talk with Eddie right there, how you found out you had been named Ellie’s guardian, and how he passed just a week later. Involuntary tears fell – you remembered that conversation as if it was yesterday, you remembered him promising you he wouldn’t leave.
Joel pulled you in for a side hug, kissing your temple, letting you cry for a while. He kept kissing your head, telling it’s okay, you can cry. You did a great job with Ellie, by the way, Eddie was right choosing you. Ellie’s a great kid.
He kept holding you until you stopped crying.
“You should let me mow the lawn one of these days, I should learn.”
He laughed. “Hey, you remember when you tried to mow the lawn that day I moved in?”
“Yeah?” You pouted, a little red in the face at the memory, feeling so stupid.
“I thought you were the most adorable person I have ever met then, so determined, so sure you were right. If I had known you longer, I would’ve kissed your pout away right there and then,” he said, one hand caressing your face, the other still around your shoulder, half eaten bowls of pasta lining the firepit, forgotten for now.
“Really?”
He nodded, eyes flickering to your lips really quickly, hand still caressing your face. He looked you in the eye again, checking for any signs of protests from you, lowering his lips, wanting to meld them to yours, your hearts beating so fast you didn’t hear anything but your own heartbeats in your ears.
BANG!
You and Joel separated as if the firepit had jumped between the two of you.
“Beans! We’re back! Oh…”
“Shit,” Frank was standing outside the kitchen door, hands on Ellie’s ears so she wouldn’t hear him swear. “We interrupted a near fucking kiss, didn’t we?”
“Fuck yeah, we did!” she chimed in, a little too loudly.
“Ellie! Language!”
**********
The next week became almost impossible to go through. The anticipation of the first date, along with the will to stay away from one another despite desperately wanting to spend some time together nearly killed you and Joel. Ellie was more than accommodating, let’s just say, but she was inadvertently making it worse, announcing her arrival into any place you and Joel might be alone with such a loud voice despite you being there alone, closing her eyes, bumping into things when she realized both of you were indeed, in the same room. She had so many bruises you were starting to worry Mrs Adler was going to report you and Joel for abuse.
It doesn’t help that this discovery that your feelings for each other were not one-sided was opening up other… feelings… one you may have been a bit too shy to explore before. Before long, you found yourself reaching into the locked drawer in your closet, taking out and dusting the loyal old friend you had – the one that used to keep you company those lonely nights Max ignored you or was out, again.
Thing was, the house you shared with Max was considerably larger than this one, and the layout was different – the guest bedroom you occupied was at the other end of the house to the master, where Max was. And, he had absolutely no reason to come to your part of the house, so you weren’t worried anyone would hear any… buzzing.
The first time you turned that loyal friend of yours in this house, though, the noise your loyal friend made shocked the living shit out of you. No way, there was no way Joel or Ellie couldn’t hear that. Your room shared a wall with both of theirs, and their bed was pressed up directly to those walls you shared. So, you reluctantly put your faithful old friend away and had to resort to your fingers instead, careful to bury yourself under the safety of your blanket, a pillow over your face in case you started moaning a bit too loudly. Just as you were starting to get into it, you heard a door open, followed by a soft knock on your door, Ellie opening it almost immediately, dancing a little, desperate for the bathroom.
Thank God you decided against your old friend.
But there was no way you were going to try that again anytime soon.
Of course, you didn’t tell Joel any of this, especially since you were so mortified by the thought that he might hear you… taking care of yourself like that. Truth was, Joel wouldn’t have noticed. He was in a dilemma of his own. He couldn’t sleep, that night Jackson was born. He had spent the entire night with you all snuggled up to him, and you had confessed your feelings for him, letting him know his insecurity was not something he should be insecure about, not when it came to you. He had your warm body pressed up all over him, your hair all over his face, the smell of you, your little moans and laughs as you got comfy snuggling up to him, the way your fingers ran all over his chest and biceps.
Fuck… he was in hell.
He tried to go to sleep but couldn’t. So, he reached into his pants, wrapping his fingers around himself to help with… tension relief, biting his own lips so that he wouldn’t accidentally moan your name out loud. He fisted himself a few times, testing the water, spat in his own palm before stroking himself more deliberately, eyes closed in ecstasy. Just as he got to a place where he needed to stroke faster, his fucking bed creaked. The stupid, white princess bed fucking creaked. Oh so loudly. He stilled, keeping an ear out for any signs that you might have heard that, but there were none.
And by the time the panic dissipated from his chest, any desire he had to take care of his needs had gone.
It happened again the next morning, when he was in the shower. He thought, Ellie was not home, you were in the backyard, he could take care of himself really quickly. So he did, under the cover of the strong water pressure of the shower, determined not to make so much noise. But when he came, he was overcome by how good it felt - it had been a while - and the mental images of you kneeling before him was too much to bear. Before he knew it, your name came out of his mouth, and he was grabbing the shower curtain so hard he ripped it off the rods.
Your panicked banging on the door put an end to any remnants of an erection he might have left, asking him if everything was alright. You heard him call your name. Did he injure himself? Joel?
“Uh, I’m okay. I nearly slipped. But managed to catch the shower curtain. I need to replace it. Sorry,” he said, red in the face, hoping to God you believed his excuse.
Thankfully, you did, but that was how it went that week. The two of you kept thinking how the heck were you going to handle being… intimate… when the time came, without scarring Ellie any further than she already was.
**********
Friday came. You and Joel were going out to dinner that night. Tess had agreed to take Ellie for the weekend. So you and Joel would have the house all to yourself that weekend. Andy had even agreed to send Ellie straight to school Monday. To say you were looking forward to this weekend was an understatement.
They screamed when you told them you were going out on a date with Joel. All of them, even Bill came and hugged you. All the secret plotting they’d been doing to get you and Joel together came out then. You couldn’t believe the lengths these people went through, just to get you to go out on a date with RPH.
Although he was never RPH to you. He was Joel. The sweetest man who had ever lived. You scolded Maria for not letting Tommy tell you and Joel her water broke, but she simply shrugged and said you being there won’t make Jackson come any faster. And you should buy her flowers for doing that, otherwise that ‘date’ wouldn’t have happened.
Frank surprised you with the news that Ellie was the one who called him and asked if she could stay with him and Bill that weekend, telling him Joel had asked you out, and for him to think of an excuse. Obviously, they were never at his sister’s. If Frank hadn’t been available, Tess was planning to pretend to take Ellie to the ranch for the birth of a foal that hadn’t been born yet.
You called Benny to yell at him when you found out his role in this whole elaborate planning, only for him to swerve you and claimed he was about to get on a plane – although it sounded suspiciously like a beach where he was.
You were definitely touched that they all wanted you and Joel to get together so much. And yes, you were looking forward to the date.
Until noon, when the school called you, telling you that Ellie had been injured. You were all the way across town delivering a cake, Tess was alone at the bakery, Bill was working, Andy was showing a house, and Frank was with you. You left the car with Frank, jumping on the train to get to her sooner since google told you that it would take you almost two hours to get to her. You called Joel crying, begging him to go get Ellie and take her to the hospital.
When you got to the emergency room, Ellie was sleeping in Joel’s arms, her face stained from tears. She had chased a kitten into the parking lot, and the kitten had run under a car. She reached under the car to get it, catching the hot exhaust with her forearm, rendering her a small second degree burn. The three of you were in the ER the whole night, arriving home at 4am Saturday morning, where you helped Ellie change into her PJs and laid her on your bed. Joel kissed her goodnight, getting up to leave, only for Ellie to stop him.
Of course, he relented, changing into his PJs before joining the two of you in bed.
As the three of you laid in bed, Ellie sleeping between the two of you, you whispered to him that you might want to postpone the date a bit, make sure Ellie was fully recovered before you would feel comfortable leaving her with anyone else. He fully agreed, of course, the sweet man that he was.
But Ellie heard and began to apologize for getting hurt on your big date night. I’m so sorry Beans, I’m sorry Joel, I didn’t mean to get hurt.
“Hey, it’s okay, Bells, we’re not angry at you. We’re just happy you’re alright.”
“But I spoiled your date.”
“Nothing is spoiled, we’ll just go another day. Nothing is more important than you, BabyGirl. We promise. Sleep, okay?” Joel, coaxed, before humming the song she sang at the concert for her.
As you watched Joel coax your little girl to sleep, if it’s at all possible, you fell just a little bit harder for him. He loved her, it didn’t take an expert to see that.
“Does this mean we have to cancel my birthday?”
“No, we’re not cancelling your birthday. We have to make sure your arm is really okay though, so you be good and keep the bandage dry and let me or Joel clean it every day, okay?”
She nodded, a small okay escaping her lips, before finally, finally, falling asleep again.
You placed your hand on her belly, shivering slightly at the thought of how much worse the burn could’ve gotten if she had reached further. As if able to read your mind, Joel placed his hand on yours, squeezing it slightly, telling you she’ll be okay, although you could tell he was just as petrified as you were back in the ER, if not more. He had to look away when the doctor was treating her burn, although he let her bury her face in his side as the doctor did so, his hand squeezing your own as she cried into his torso.
When you wake up the next morning, you were once again alone with Joel, Ellie already up, lying on her belly on the love seat in your room, colouring something. Unlike before, you didn’t try to escape, and when Joel opened his eyes, he just pulled you closer to him, and both of you fell back into an easy sleep.
**********
A little under two weeks after the incident, you and Joel stumbled into your home with boxes upon boxes of birthday presents for Ellie, the little girl running into her room with extra large colouring set Bill and Frank had gotten her. God, you never knew how difficult it was to make sure 15 five-year-olds didn’t maim themselves or each other. Even with the help of Mrs Adler, Anita, Tess and Andy, you were outnumbered. Joel got lucky, he was only there for the final hour, having his own work and classes to tend to. Even so, he was knackered, having to round up three boys who were convinced there was a chicken lose in Ellie’s classroom before the birthday party ended. Anita was helping with the leftovers, all put away in Tupperware containers, separating some to take home to Tommy and Maria, themselves knackered in their own rights. Tess came in with the last of the presents, Andy coming in and going straight to Ellie’s room.
As you and Joel finished putting the presents in a corner for Ellie to decide where to keep them, the house suddenly got quiet, and the two of you realized that the front door had been shut. Joel went to the window to see Anita with several bags of leftovers, Tess with Ellie’s suitcase and Andy with Ellie over her shoulder, running to the car as dramatically as they could, the little girl giggling in glee.
“What’s going on?” Joel shouted after them, wrenching the front door open.
“Have fun!!!” Andy yelled, shoving Ellie into her car, quickly going in herself before peeling away as if they were in some bad mafia film.
“Wow. Really?” Joel asked you, disbelief in his face. “What’s with the elaborate kidnapping? Not as if we wouldn’t have let her go.”
“Actually, Tess asked if they could take Ellie to the ranch – that horse she was taking care of gave birth and they promised her they would let her name it. I said no, though.”
“Why?”
“Her burn…”
“The doctor okayed it, remember? She doesn’t even need her bandages anymore.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay,” you said one final time before taking a deep breath, willing yourself not to cry.
“Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll clean up.”
When you came out, Joel had put everything away and was in the shower himself. You were trying to figure out which leftover to have for dinner when he came out, asking you if you’d like to have a picnic with him by the firepit for dinner that day.
“We have all the party food, we have cake, great picnic food. We can call it an unofficial date, what do you say?” he coaxed, pulling you into his arm, getting droplets of water from his hair all over your arms as you involuntarily wrapped them around his neck.
“Okay,” you said, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Aside from your hugs and snuggling on the couch and in bed, this might be the most intimate you had ever been with him. You took his towel from around his neck and gently helped dry his hair better, his eyes closing at the sensation, suddenly brought back to the time you ran your fingers on his scalp.
When he opened his eyes, you were staring right into his own. You dropped his towel on the kitchen counter, combing your fingers through his hair, scratching his head lightly.
He slowly, deliberately, took two slow steps forwards, until your back touched the kitchen island, his arms caging you in, and bent his head, softly capturing your lips with his own, sealing your first kiss together.
---
May
#joel miller x reader#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you#roommate Joel Miller
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Sorry for all the questions from me recently,, but I've been planning to write a fanfic that takes place before pinestar exists in riverclan, blast to the past if you will! I just wanted to ask if you have any tips or advice because I really look up to your writing!
No worries about questions! I'm happy to answer if I can. I'll try to give some advice on writing in general, and hopefully it'll help you.
Figure out what pace will help you keep going on the project, fanfic or original, and work with that. If writing 200 words a day every day or 1k words every three days is your comfortable speed and keeps you from getting exhausted, then don't force yourself to Stephen King it and write an excess of 2k every single day. Your goal is to enjoy yourself here and keep going until it's completed. It won't be worth it if you suffer the whole time.
That being said, at times you may need to strap yourself down and just get through the part you don't want to write. This requires some discipline and self-training, but it is doable. The reward of getting to the part you're excited about is completely worth the work of writing when bored. I can very much promise you that. Every single thing I've ever worked on, I've had to force myself to keep writing/drawing at some point, and every time I've been happy that I worked until I got my reward of the part I was psyched to get to. Hell, I'm doing that right now with the next book in this series! And, fun fact, the more you do it, the easier it gets. Sort of like exercise!
If you need to plan ahead of time to finish a project like I do, then you might could borrow my method of planning: write down one or a couple sentences describing the overall, most basic idea of the plot (literally just something like "[Character] in RiverClan finds a secret plot by [other character] to overthrow the leader, stops them, and then discovers that they were right to be suspicious about the leader's secrets and helps oust the leader"); write down all the story beats and character moments you have in mind in no specific order; break down the plot into more chewable chunks using the aforementioned beats and moments to help you figure out the connecting veins to each chunk; and from there, go smaller and smaller as needed until you have enough to work with that you're comfortable writing. I personally like to write a summary of each chapter as well - all of them - before starting to actually write those chapters. It helps me keep track of everything and prevents me from fucking up the story I had in mind by being impulsive and forgetting the plan.
Even if you love a moment, character or line of dialog, if it isn't working with everything else and is disrupting the flow of the story, don't be afraid to throw it out. It's hard and I hate doing it myself, but sometimes it's just time to get rid of something you're attached to. "Kill your darlings" doesn't just mean killing a character you like, it means taking out things that you love no matter how much it feels like ripping out a tooth. You can always find a way to use whatever it is later in something else.
If you have a willing beta/editor, by GOD, ask for their help. A second set of eyes is crucial to ensuring the quality of your story. The thing is that you're too close to your creation to know for sure if it's good to everyone else - even if it genuinely is amazing, you have no idea because you made it. Having someone outside the circle of sentiment to read and say, "Hey, this dialog doesn't sound very realistic" or "Huh, I thought this piece was foreshadowing something else, maybe clear that up a little" is, while painful to your ego, more precious than a pot of gold. Appreciate the critique you get. It's awesome for your growth. Do know that not all critique is going to be helpful to your specific writing style, but a lot of it is very much worth paying attention to and taking a minute to mull over and decide whether to humor it or not. This, too, you will get better at differentiating over time.
All this said, remember that if you're not getting a paycheck, you're doing this for fun. You are under no obligation to finish a story that's making you miserable. You'll have to learn the difference between "fic I'm in a boring moment of" and "fic that's actively harming my mental wellbeing because I feel obligated to complete it", and sometimes you'll need a second person to voice your thoughts to in order to judge that. If it sucks, hit da bricks! Don't punish yourself for having to stop, or even just taking a break. A fanfic is not worth your sanity. Trust me on this.
That shit got long and I apologize. Hopefully this helped!
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The underground shelter, which was revealed last year, prompted conspiracy theories on social media about wealthy tech moguls building doomsday bunkers.
Mark Zuckerberg is downplaying the massive 5,000-square-foot bunker beneath his Hawaiian compound that was revealed in WIRED last year and prompted conspiracy theories on social media about wealthy tech moguls building doomsday bunkers.
The billionaire Facebook co-founder pushed back when Bloomberg reporter Emily Chang, in a video published Tuesday that chronicled her visit to Zuckerberg’s Lake Tahoe property, asked him what he’s “worried about” — and if there’s something he knows “that we don’t” in regard to the bunker.
“No, I think that’s just, like, a little shelter,” he told Chang. “It’s a basement! It’s a basement.”
Zuckerberg said the “basic house” on Kauai is largely used for storage space and that he frequently works from there but admitted to the underground bunker there, referring to it as a “hurricane shelter or whatever.”
“I think it got, like, blown out of proportion, as if the whole ranch was some kind of doomsday bunker, which is just not true,” he added.
Back in February, Ron Hubbard, the CEO of Atlas Survival Shelters, and Robert Vicino, founder of underground survival shelter company Vivos, spoke to The Hollywood Reporter about how news of Zuckerberg’s bunker increased business for them.
Hubbard said that it had “caused a buying frenzy,” while Vicino said, “Now that Zuckerberg has let the cat out of the bag, that’s got other people who share his status or are near his status starting to think, ‘Oh God, if he’s doing that, maybe he knows something that I don’t, maybe I should seek this out myself.’”
Zuckerberg purchased the 1,400-acre estate, which is known as Koolau Ranch, in a series of deals beginning in 2014, WIRED reported in 2023. According to planning documents for the property reviewed by the outlet, the compound will have its own energy and food supplies.
Construction of the compound and purchase of the land was estimated to cost around $270 million. Zuckerberg told Chang that he and his wife, Priscilla Chan, use the property for ranching and that he wants to “create the highest quality beef in the world.”
Along with Zuckerberg, other bunker-having tech moguls allegedly include Bill Gates, with Vicino telling THR in 2016 that Gates “has huge shelters under every one of his homes.”
PayPal CEO Peter Thiel had similar plans for a bunker-like compound in New Zealand, but those were thwarted in 2022 after backlash from local conservationists, according to The Guardian.
Zuckerberg’s property spawned similar criticism from locals and Indigenous groups in Kauai, with one former laborer on the compound telling WIRED, “It’s crazy that a man not from Hawaii comes here and purchases a bunch of land that limits the locals [from potentially buying] land. But it’s already happening.”
(continue reading)
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𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 (𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙭𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)
What if you broke all first date rules? Peter totally loved that idea.
tags n warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive. word count: 937
You were lying on the couch, scrolling through your phone while half-watching your favorite series. It was one of those lazy afternoons where multitasking wasn’t exactly on your agenda. A little voice in your head told you to wash your hair and freshen up, but you ignored it. Why bother? You didn’t have plans. Or so you thought.
A ping from your phone interrupted a pivotal moment of your show.
Peter: "Almost ready. Be there soon."
Your eyes widened. *Oh no.* That little voice in your head hadn’t been random after all. You had a date. With Peter Maximoff. The gorgeous guy from your college. And you forgot?
You: "Same here. I'll be ready, waiting for you."
Liar. You scrambled off the couch, nearly tripping over the coffee table. Muttering curses at yourself, you dove into the closet, throwing clothes around in search of something decent. This wasn’t the time to be picky, but your mind screamed otherwise. Finally, you opted for a blouse and a suspiciously short skirt—a desperate break from your usual dark jeans.
By the time you emerged from the shower and were brushing your damp hair, a car horn honked outside. The perfect timing was accompanied by another notification:
Peter: "I’m here <3"
You sighed. Wet hair? Fantastic. What else could go wrong?
Peter was leaning casually against his car, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. His signature grin greeted you as you opened the door.
“Hey!" you chirped, trying to mask your frazzled state.
"Hey," he greeted, his smile widening as he took you in. "You look amazing."
He stepped closer, enveloping you in a brief, warm hug before guiding you to the car. With a gentlemanly flair, he opened the door for you.
"Wow, what a gentleman," you teased, sliding into the passenger seat.
"Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment," he chuckled, settling in and starting the car
The ride was filled with soft music from the radio. You swayed gently to the rhythm, glancing at Peter as he drove. He looked so effortlessly cool, and yet, there was something endearing about the way his fingers tapped the steering wheel to the beat.
When you arrived at the mall, Peter parked and instinctively placed a hand on your waist as he led you inside. The casual touch sent sparks through you, but he didn’t seem to notice.
"What do you want to eat?" he inquired as you both found a table.
"Anything’s fine. You pick," you responded politely. He nodded and headed to the counter, returning with a triumphant grin.
"Brought soda for both of us," he announced, placing the cups on the table.
"Thanks, Peter," you replied, smiling.
The conversation, however, hit a weird lull. The two of you sat in silence for a solid 18 minutes, exchanging awkward smiles as the food took its sweet time.
"Taking a while, huh?" you remarked, breaking the tension.
"Yeah, they’re usually faster," Peter replied, mentally facepalming himself. Way to keep it interesting, Maximoff.
"Totally." You laughed, and he joined in. You couldn’t let the awkwardness win. "Ever had a weird first date?"
He raised an eyebrow before chuckling. "I don’t think it’s the date that’s weird. It’s the person."
"Had both," you admitted, leaning on the table. "One date was so bad I pretend the guy doesn’t exist to this day. And now I’m breaking the number one rule of first dates."
Peter smirked. "Since we’re breaking rules, I’ll add that I once went out with someone so strange, their kiss made me question my life choices."
You laughed, the awkward atmosphere dissolving. "Alright, how about we break more first-date rules?"
Intrigued, he slid over to sit beside you, wrapping his arm casually around your shoulders. "Like the one about not sitting too close?"
"Exactly," you beamed, leaning into his arm. "Also, no defensive body language." You crossed your arms and made a mock angry face.
"Adorable," he teased, glancing at you dramatically. "Guess I’ll break the rule about not staring because your boobs looks twice bigger when you do it."
You raised an eyebrow, laughing. "This is turning into a competition."
"Definitely, shawty," he winks, pulling out his phone. "I’ll win by ignoring you completely while playing Candy Crush."
"Candy Crush? That’s low," you chuckle, watching him open the app. "Then I’ll share way too much about my boring past, pets, and favorite movies,"
"Perfect. I’ll have a reason to block you afterward," he shot back, grinning as you nudged him playfully with your shoulder.
"Call it a tie," you declared, shaking his hand in mock sportsmanship.
"Sure, but I won’t forget how competitive you are," he teased. Just then, the signal for your order sounded. Peter retrieved the tray, revealing your favorite meal.
"How did you know?" you asked, delighted.
"One of my rules was spying on your Instagram stories," he joked.
"You’re impossible," you laughed, enjoying your food.
After the meal, you wandered the mall, eventually dragging him into a store to browse nail polishes. Breaking the rule number i-dont-care of making him bored, but Peter was surprisingly interested on beauty things.
"This one," Peter annouced, holding up a shimmering silver bottle.
"Why?" you giggled, amused.
"Matches my hair. Obviously. Don't pretend you're not crazy bout this color.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing. Moments like these made breaking all the rules with Peter feel worth it. Especially when he kissed you goodnight—breaking yet another rule—and asked you to be his girlfriend right there in the parking lot. And obviously you broke another rule about not going to bed on the first date. It was Peter Maximoff, after all.
#peter maximoff#peter maximof x reader#peter maximoff x y/n#peter maximoff x you#peter maximoff x reader#x reader#reader insert#fanfic#imagine#evan peters#evan peters fandom#evan peters x reader#evan peters x y/n#evan peters x you
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i almost bailed on new year’s because i was sleepy and the weather was horrendous, but it was three short blocks from my apartment and i’d said i’d go so i really had no excuse; when i got there for a moment i was worried it was populated exclusively by Fashionable Gay People, but then i peered into another room and found the mutual aid contingent and was relieved even as i remembered with amusement a few parties ago, back in october, someone remarking, not harshly, on our collective habit of going to parties to talk to the same 10-20 people we already know. the first thing i did in 2025 was go see no, the gael garcia bernal movie about the campaign to vote no on the 1988 plebiscite on pinochet; the second was family brunch; the third was watching the shop around the corner and confirming i am truly jimmy stewart pilled now. thursday i got a great haircut and hung out in the mulberry street library reading js&mn (i have most recently arrived at the portion after strange comes home from the war) and met a friend for dinner before seeing teeth, my second time getting around to a michael r. jackson musical just in time for closing week; not a perfect show but a wild time and i’m very glad he gets to be out there doing his thing. friday i got pleasantly fucked up and went out dancing until 3:30 in the morning with like ten people all of whom once again know each other because we like making it possible for people to get free stuff, which i guess one day i will accept is just my life now but on some level has not yet sunk in. i thought a lot as i have been thinking a lot about how for my entire twenties and then some loneliness was the defining color in my emotional landscape and i am still awkward and neurotic and shy but that just isn’t true anymore, when i thought it would be true forever. an absurdly cool trans girl i know told me she loved my hair and i went to sleep having achieved my step count for friday and saturday mostly in the span of about four hours. saturday i thought was to be for laundry and sleep but n. said a movie was playing he remembered loving so i made it into the city (after laundry) to watch todo mudo, a 1976 political thriller with a somewhat inscrutable plot (to me, knowing nothing about italian politics after the fall of rome other than that mussolini happened) and impeccable vibes, and back at home i managed to muster up the will for full body day to hit my fifth workout of the week, because i am very tough and brave.
today i tutored for the first time in two weeks and screwed up what was supposed to by my second by forgetting my own schedule, but it’s fine. i reviewed & resolutioned & brought my mom a change of clothes at the hospital and made a little page i can duplicate in my planning app that looks just like my little notebook weekly log pages except it lives in my ipad :) i have had an extremely good staycation and already have a series of nice things to look forward to in the days ahead. i feel very lucky here at the dawn of 2025. i keep thinking that, over and over.
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