#also I love all six of these books; it’s hard for me to definitively decide on any of these rankings

[spending-life-pretending]

Finally read all 6 Austen novels. Here’s my completely unasked for and totally subjective ranking of them at this time (100% liable to change considering I read my first one when I was 13 and my last in college):

6. Sense and Sensibility

5. Mansfield Park

4. Pride and Prejudice

3. Persuasion

2. Emma

1. Northanger Abbey

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Prologue

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen

WC: 13k

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

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

Series Masterlist

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

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

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

Poppy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course he did, she thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She does.

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

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

“Then why are you all grumpy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She wishes he would stop saying her name. 

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

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

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

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

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

She really wishes he wouldn’t call her that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Very.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Half?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So Poppy knows that Nia knows something happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Awesome! What’s left to do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There is no me and Nico,”

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing happened!”

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

“He has a girlfriend, Nia.”

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

“Since when?” Nia frowns. 

“Since the summer just gone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

They didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nico

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Talia was great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he knew something still wasn’t right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why was Poppy packing up her desk?

Why was she avoiding hanging out with the team?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So that’s what they had been talking about. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe you should ask her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aren’t friends anymore.

Avoiding the whole team all year.

Jack is driving her home.

He’s her favourite.

Aren’t friends anymore.

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Turns out, 4 months might be too late.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jack: need ur help

Jack: urgently

Jack: wake up dude

Nico: I’m not driving anywhere for you

Jack: not asking u to

Jack: u will like this I promise 😌

Nico: what do you want?

Jack: need u to keep Poppy company

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

Jack: been on her own for a few hours

Jack: so she’s grumpy 👎🏻👎🏻👎🏻 👹👹

Nico: doubt I can change the grumpy part

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

Jack: don’t need to

Jack: ur a grump too

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

Jack: u going down or no?

Nico: fine

Jack: I’ll be back in 1 hr :)

Jack: love u cap 😚

Nico: 🙄

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

> Chapter One

[cr4zy-cycl0n3]

Yo! I'm doing a Heroes of Olympus rewrite!

I'm not a huge fan of how some scenes go in canon and how the characters esp the gods are handled in Hoo, and after reading one too many rewrite/AU fics, I've decided fuck it, imma make my own.

I'm changing quite a few things, like:

- making Piper's memories not be tampered with and as a result be way closer to Leo (credit to Heroes of Juno by @queenjunothegreat for this idea!)

- MOTHERLY HERA/JUNO WHO PSEUDO-ADOPTS JASON FTW also parental Lupa but that'll be more apparent in a Jason prequel/sequel(depends on how I wanna format it) I’ll write after TLH is done

- slowburn valgrace instead of comphet jiper

- Leo and Piper QPR(+Jason when Piper stops being his #1 opp). Jasipereo ftw babyyy

- the whole series is just gonna have a good deal of focus on the Lost Trio. I'm not gonna shaft anyone ofc but my favorite punching bags characters are just gonna get extra love :3

- Jason's gonna be considerably more feral cuz CMON MAN WAS RAISED BY WOLVES(this is more prominent in the later books cuz in TLH he was alr feral, going at 2 giants with his BARE ASS HANDS)

- Jason has more bite cuz DAMMIT HE DESERVES TO BE ANGRY/BITTER AND CLAP BACK. HIS LIFE IS SHIT, LET MY BRO BE MAD

- more exploration into Jason's character cuz man was shafted so hard :(

- exploration of characters' powers in general, def buffing the Big Three kids to be as strong as Percy cuz holy cow he's OP. I love Percy and his OP-ness, but the other Big Three kids should be just as OP

- Zeus is the God of Justice, which we don't see much of in PJO's characterization of him, but Jupiter is Roman and hence is much more strict in the RRverse, so consequently I think his domain of law and order is more central to Jupiter than his greek counterpart, so I'd like to explore Jason having powers related to that and being an absolute powerhouse when it comes to debates and politics despite hating them

- characterizing the Gods differently from canon as I'm a Hellenist and writing them as they are in canon makes me like. Kinda uncomfortable. I will be using mythic literalism as that is what PJO/HoO's based on and I'm not rewriting the very foundations of the series, so they will still have committed the things they did in mythology, though I'm keeping them largely unaltered from the Og greek mythos and unsanitized as this isn't intended for a young audience like PJO is. Their behavior won't be exactly like their depictions in myths nor how they actually are irl, it's a mix of both(Ex: Zeus has still done heinous shit so he won't be as great as he is irl, but he isn't supremely petty and bitchy like he is in PJO.). This uhh. Will probably mean that PJO events would go differently which would influence HOO but if I think about that too much I'm gonna wanna do a PJO rewrite too and akbhdhd so just imagine that everything that goes on in PJO goes as canon (for now at least) for some reason or another.

- Octavian and Jason are were best friends cuz I said so. This change is inspired by To Storm and Fire(a Heroes of Olympus rewrite) which I am in LOVE with. The antagonistic side characters(like Drew and Octavian) got very little development or character exploration so l'm definitely giving them that in my rewrite!

- The Seven feel and are much closer together

- delving more into the sevens' trauma pre-camp, might also do a one/two shot for each of them. Jason’s a given cuz I’m writing a whole ass fic or even series dedicated to his past, Leo and Piper definitely, probably also Hazel and Annabeth, not sure on Percy and Frank cuz for Frank I’m def going into the trauma that comes with growing up in an Asian household but don’t have too many ideas on how to execute that, and for Percy I don’t have all that many ideas in general outside of the little we know in PJO(I used to think we knew a lot but honestly, we really don’t? Like we know Poseidon left, Sally had to work a lot, Gabe sucks, and he got kicked out of 6 six schools in 6 years and the reasons, but we don’t have any concrete details. There might be more in HoH, I haven’t read it yet so lmk if there is). Open to any ideas for this!

- camp is. Tense. It's been only a few months since the war, grief is still fresh, and Jason being tall, blonde, and blue-eyed with a scar ain't helping 💀 some people think Silena was a hero, others think she was a villain, some people sympathized with Luke, others despised him, there's a lotta differing views.

I have loads more ideas that I won't get into here cuz the post'll get way too long, but l'd love to hear what you guys think! What scenes/characterizations should I change? What topics would you like to see handled differently? What should I add? I'm open to any and all suggestions!

Currently outlining TLH, will start posting it on my ao3 once I have the first chapter and 4-5 buffer ones written so I'll prolly start posting it in a month or two? Idk, depends on my workload irl and if I get hit by writer’s block. Maybe less, maybe more, who knows. I'll be writing a bunch of shorter stories for specific moments, time between books, and namely a prequel/tih sequel focusing on Jason's past and who he was before Hera wiped his memory. Open to any suggestions for additional works too. Feel free to drop any questions and suggestions bout the rewrite here or in my ask box!

[lucky-clover-gazette]

captive prince short stories highlights & annotations

pet

(takes place during book 1: captive prince)

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Ancel was a virgin the first twelve times he had sex. The thirteenth time, it lacked all plausibility.

‘You could buy out my contract.’ ‘How much?’ He made up a figure. There was no Lord Arten. Ancel landed his first contract that day: three months of his time, signed over to the merchant’s son.

‘I’ve never done it in public before,’ said Ancel. ‘You’d be my first.’

ancel leveraging subcategories of his virginity. smart

‘You’re not going to take him away from me, you slut,’ said the boy sweetly, murmuring the words too quietly for anyone else to hear. ‘Too late,’ said Ancel.

vere sucks. but i think ancel is playing the system more effectively than like anyone else there

Was this how men felt fucking him? No wonder they paid a fortune for it.

Fucking Lord Rouart, fucking every lord here. Being watched by everyone while he did it was like a blinding white light.

veretian society fucks ancel, ancel fucks veretian society harder

The room exploded in approval, cheers, calls of his name. He could hear shouts of suggestions, ribald calls to Lord Rouart in the thick excitement of the crowd.

there have to be at least a few people in vere who are not into this, but just kind of playing along to keep their—wait isn’t that the other guy in this short story

He was going to meet his new owner, and his new owner was going to fuck him.

ancel does not understand how cs pacat writes sex and power dynamics. nobody ever gets what they think they’re going to get

‘So, you saw me in the ring, and decided that you just had to have me,’ said Ancel. Berenger looked up. ‘No. I hate the ring.’ The words were matter-of-fact. ‘Parsins, hand me my jacket.’

i think i am going to really like berenger.

‘How old are you?’ As if Ancel hadn’t spoken. ‘Sixteen.’ Berenger gave him a flat look. ‘Twenty,’ said Ancel, the truth coming out with a flash of annoyance that he had to work hard to keep out of his voice.

He tried to recover. ‘And you?’ said Ancel, in his most velvet voice. ‘Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?’ ‘I’m riding to Ladehors.’ Berenger was walking right past him, he was—was he leaving?

most normal guy in vere

Ancel had seen with his own eyes that Berenger owned six identical copies of the same brown jacket.

oh i love this character

He was dressed in a loose shirt of simple white linen and plain trousers, his red hair tied back in a casual tail with a single leather tie. He looked up when he heard footsteps, and then stood quickly, closing the book. An unaffected young man, rising startled to greet his friend. ‘My lord,’ said Ancel. ‘I’m sorry, I—you took me by surprise.’

this is so funny. ancel pretending to be what he thinks berenger wants him to be, which is just like another normal guy

'Oh this?’ A hand to his mussily tied back hair. ‘I wasn’t expecting you back so early. I can change into something more—’ ‘No. You look handsome.’ Berenger stopped and shook his head. ‘That is, when we’re not at functions, you should feel free to wear whatever you like.’ ‘Thank you, my lord,’ said Ancel. It was Berenger who took a step forward. ‘You’re reading Isagoras?’ Berenger was looking at the discarded book with its scrollwork pages. He looked up at Ancel in surprise. ‘What do you think of him?’

i like how ancel is doing a reversal of the makeover trope. he was hot and glamorous before, and now he’s trying to make himself look like a boring nerd

Ancel couldn’t read, but he had planned all this from the moment Parsins had pointed the book out to him.

LMAOOOOOO

Ancel ate the plain food with the good manners of a merchant’s son, and none of the teasing flirtation that marked his own profession.

what are you talking about, there’s never been a mention of homoerotic bread eating in this series before

It happened in the library one night several weeks later, as Berenger was talking about politics. Ancel nodded and half listened while Berenger said—blah blah the Prince, blah blah the alliance with Akielos—

‘In the end, aren’t we all looking for someone to be loyal to?’ said Ancel, softly.

ancel really just went down the checklist of things he was told berenger likes (loyalty in friendship in this case)

also, a note from post-reading the entire story sam: YES YOU ARE, ANCEL.

‘Is that what you want?’ said Berenger. ‘It’s what I never thought I’d find,’ said Ancel, ‘until I met you,’ and it was happening, finally, it was finally happening, the two of them drawing closer in the firelight, Ancel’s arms sliding around Berenger’s neck, leaning in to— ‘Ancel—no.’

‘You may have made assumptions,’ Berenger spoke first, not looking at him, ‘after I bid for you in the ring, but I—’ For a moment, Ancel didn’t understand. And then suddenly the rejections and the refusals made sense. ‘It doesn’t have to be like it was in the ring,’ Ancel said in rush, relieved to have discovered the root of the problem. He hastened to reassure Berenger. ‘I don’t have to be the one who does that.’

ancel i don’t think this is a top/bottom thing, i think berenger isn’t drinking whatever horny flouride they have in the water in vere and is just disinterested in the pet stuff

He waited for Berenger to get it. Berenger didn’t seem to get it.

because that’s not what berenger meant!! this dynamic is very fun. extremely self-assured and aspirational guy who only knows how to leverage sex and schmooze, vs chill-ass guy who is not really trying to get anything out of anyone and therefore not thinking or trying too hard

‘You can fuck me,’ Ancel explained. Berenger’s eyes went wide. Was that the wrong thing to say? ‘I’ve always done it that way before. It’s what I’m good at.’ That was the wrong thing to say, too. ‘I mean, I want you.’ That was better. He should have said that first. ‘I want you.’ He moved a step closer, made it personal. ‘The way you want me.’ ‘Ancel, you don’t have to—’ ‘I want you to fuck me.’ ‘That isn’t what I want.’ ‘Then what do you want?’ Ancel said, in pure frustration.

world’s first reverse beard has been invented

‘In six weeks,’ began Berenger, ‘I’m attending court. As a single man, I need a pet to attend dinners and functions with me. For propriety’s sake. That is all. I don’t expect intimacy in private. In fact I prefer in private that you—that you and I—’ ‘Court?’ Like a flower inclining towards sunlight, Ancel’s whole attention swung to the thought. He barely heard the rest. ‘You’re taking me to court?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘The royal court. At Arles.’ ‘Yes.’

such a fun premise for this story. ancel has a reason to stay (social climbing), berenger has a reason to need ancel (appearing to follow customs). surely they can help each other accomplish their goals while keeping this impersonal and professional, with no eventual mutual understanding or friendship or romance.

‘Well, I’m going to need a lot more jewels,’ Ancel said, his annoyance returning with a snap. ‘I know you like boring young men in cotton shirts, but I can’t wander around the palace looking like this.’ Berenger was staring at him again, like Ancel was a stranger he was meeting for the first time. Ancel lifted his chin. ‘What? I intend to make the most of our time at court. I am incredibly good at my chosen profession. Not that you’d know that.’ ‘It’s possible I didn’t realise how good until now.’ Berenger was still gazing at him with that new look in his eyes. After a long moment, ‘Do you even like horses?’ ‘I can’t read,’ said Ancel. ‘I see,’ said Berenger.

okay yeah i LOVE this. mask off for ancel, meanwhile berenger hadn’t even bothered to pretend in the first place. i mean he’s pretending in front of the court, but not ancel. it’s just nice that they’re on the same team, unlike SOME PEOPLE i’ve read about during this rough period of time in vere

The next morning, Ancel threw away the plain white shirt and the simple leather hair tie, and came down to breakfast in the clothes that he liked: exquisite silks and velvets that felt good against his skin, wearing his hair pampered and long and out. Berenger didn’t say, ‘I see,’ but the implication was there in the heavy weight of his regard as he looked at Ancel across the table. Ancel lifted his chin, ignoring all the uninspired foods that Berenger liked and biting into a fruit tart.

this story has done a great job of making me like ancel and berenger in a short amount of time. strong moments of characterization (the fruit tart, the jackets, etc), more simple and less subtle than damen and laurent, but still very fun to notice and appreciate

‘The horse I chose for you has arrived,’ said Berenger. ‘She’s a strawberry roan named Ruby. I wonder if you’ll like her.’

berenger and ancel’s first official date is a chappell roan concert. red hair and horses.

For his part, Ancel stopped trying to seduce Berenger, and started enjoying himself.

Perhaps Berenger preferred women.

i don’t think this is where the story goes, but i would actually kinda like if they were just friends, and that was in fact the case. or even better, ancel assumes berenger is straight and that’s why he’s not interested, but berenger is eventually like “no i like men, i’m just not attracted to you” or "i don't like my partners being 10 years younger than i am"

Every commoner in the province had a story about Lord Berenger: Berenger had remembered the name of their child; Berenger had stayed with them through the birth of their prize colt; Berenger had helped them with the purchase of equipment when they had none, saving the harvest.

berenger could not have been involved in the main series. i think he’d break the reader’s brain compared to laurent because he’s just like. a normal and decent person despite the horrors, and not trying to hide it beneath a million layers of complicated bullshit

‘No. I meant that the court has changed,’ said Berenger, shaking his head, ‘since the King died. The Regent’s influence—’

hate that guy

‘What?’ said Ancel. ‘Luxury suits you,’ remarked Berenger.

god i wish this could stay platonic. THAT would be the true subversion!

note from post-reading the entire story sam: with the full image we eventually get of ancel, i actually think it's even better that berenger admits that he desires him. it would feel kind of like a cop-out for the answer to ancel's unspoken question of "would anyone like me for who i am, if my attractiveness was not a factor?" to be "yeah this guy does, but he never would have been into you in the first place." it's even more effective, and even more a subversion of what ancel thinks of himself, for berenger to find ALL of him attractive—his ambition and talent and intelligence, in addition to his looks and performance—and not want to reduce ancel to the sex object that he (ancel) thinks he has to be.

Who was the new pet? How had he come to serve Berenger?

i’m getting the impression that the previous king of vere had not required people like berenger to have pets, but the regent does. which is why berenger hired ancel

Berenger then knelt for the Prince, who was standing to the left of the throne, a severe young man in harsh clothing.

GOD i hope i get to see a little bit of laurent being a withdrawn dryly comedic sitcom side character before damen arrives and it sends him into joker mode

Lady Egere had a horse program Berenger was interested in, so Ancel made her feel like the most important person in the world.

berenger not beating the normal person allegations. like yeah, that is what people do at dinner parties. they talk to other people about shared interests. good job, berenger.

And when everyone was talking about the Prince, and the conversation swerved uncomfortably towards the new Akielon alliance, Ancel stepped in and told the whole table a risqué story he’d heard about Akielon bed practices, diverting attention.

laurent sighs and makes a mental note to be slightly less hostile to ancel for that accidental favor

Even Berenger laughed when he got to the punchline.

‘I love them,’ said Ancel. ‘I’d sleep with you right now. I might even enjoy it for once.’ He stopped. ‘High praise,’ said Berenger, dryly. ‘Of course, with you, I’d—’ ‘Oh, of course,’ said Berenger.

oh NICE moment. ancel admitting that he doesn’t actually like any of this shit he’s doing. and berenger implying that he’s always understood that.

Another day, another brown jacket.

i love the brown jacket as a means of characterization and comedy

‘In blue or red, you could look quite handsome.’ It was something Ancel had noticed on the third morning, in the early light from the window. Berenger had a strong profile, good bone structure, and warm eyes. His waist, where Ancel was lacing, was trim, his body fit from riding. ‘Let me pick your jacket.’ Berenger sounded amused. ‘You don’t like my jacket?’

you don’t like his jacket????

He didn’t let Ancel pick his jacket.

good to know he has his hard limits

They had a good system in which Ancel filched the delicious confectionaries and special sweets and left Berenger all the plain stuff he preferred.

i love this for them!!!

‘I can’t believe you’ve never visited the coupling gardens. Do you feel no desires at all? Come on.’ ‘Ancel, I don’t think that—’ ‘Look, it’s those flowers from that boring poem that you like,’ Ancel announced proudly. He stood in front of the spray of white flowers. Berenger had stopped. The flowers were night blooming, filling the air with a delicate scent.

ancel please don’t talk about poetry in the mindfuck blowjob garden

‘You’re right,’ said Berenger. ‘They’re very beautiful. And rare. In the poem, the lover is given only a single flower.’ ‘What a terrible gift. I’d much rather have jewellery,’ said Ancel, wrinkling his nose. ‘Or clothes. Even the horse was better.’ Berenger’s mouth quirked, his eyes shifting from the flowers, amused and warm. ‘Yes, you’re a little more expensive.’

THEY SHOULD STAY FRIENDSSSS please!!! i want to see their odd couple not a couple adventures as neither of them actually falls in love bc they’re married to the grind (literally for ancel, figuratively for berenger). then again, we know that ancel doesn’t actually like being a pet, so i can see how this ends up a romance that works. but STILL

'I like feeling—’ Like part of it. Like the master of it. Like he had power over the men, like if they wanted him they had to pay a fortune for it. Like he was more valuable than the wine goblet Berenger held, or the silver pitcher a servant had poured from. Like he mattered.

ancel understands exactly how this stronger man/weaker man thing works, in that the weakest man is the one who forces others to the bottom so he can be on top. but berenger doesn’t do that, except for appearances. and he’s very clear that he knows it’s all bullshit too.

‘Perhaps I ought to think of it more like that.’ ‘How do you think of it?’ ‘I think,’ said Berenger, ‘that the only person in this place who shows me their real face is you.’

berenger: i’d probably be happier if i just allowed myself to enjoy the luxury and debauchery ancel: wait so what do you think instead berenger: that this is all fake and stupid as hell, and you’re the only one with the awareness to understand that and use it

‘I can make everyone look at me.’ There was the familiar frown, like an old friend. ‘Ancel, I told you I don’t want—’

“like an old friend” because he IS your friend, because he appreciates you for who you are, not for the ways you can perform

Gasps as they burst into flame, and Ancel tossed the stick high, a spinning wheel of dangerous light.

how did he like. learn how to do this. this isn’t something you can just do on a whim. although i guess it does suit ancel to play with fire

That was part of the thrill, sensuality and danger. He had everyone’s attention now. He tossed and twirled, and it was easy, all of it coming back to him, his childhood days before his profession had changed, before the escalating series of favours, until the moment he had finally agreed to it. You have to pay me extra. It’s my first time.

very effective way to give backstory: he was a performer, and then someone propositioned him for sex, and then he realized the possibilities of going into that kind of work full-time. it put the power in his hands, and people did in fact pay him more when he asked.

‘You’re full of talents, aren’t you,’ said a boy’s voice, and Ancel turned. The boy was very lovely and very young, with huge blue eyes and a tumble of brown curls.

my heart hurts

‘Since you like to play with fire,’ said Nicaise.

extremely bittersweet to have nicaise say one of my own thoughts

‘I’ve heard that Berenger likes women, and that he disappears sometimes from court, so that he can—’ Ancel flushed. He left the main hall and made straight for Berenger, who was sitting in an adjoining antechamber, on one of the long reclining couches, amid a handful of acquaintances, talking in small relaxed groups. ‘Kiss me,’ said Ancel as he settled, one knee on the couch on either side of Berenger’s thighs, his hands linked behind Berenger’s neck. ‘What?’ said Berenger. ‘On the mouth,’ said Ancel.

yeah they invented reverse bearding

Berenger was beginning to frown. Ancel thought, with a burst of irritation, I know you don’t want to, but can’t you just pretend? How hard was it? Ancel pretended all the time. Berenger had a reputation to maintain. But if Ancel said that, Berenger would probably reply with something idiotic like his own reputation didn’t matter to him.

ancel is so perceptive, compared to damen it’s like. jarring

It didn’t feel impersonal. He was instead extremely conscious that it was Berenger that he was kissing.

uh oh

His lips were tingling from kissing Berenger, and that didn’t seem to make sense.

UH OH

‘Like you mean it,’ said Ancel, and kissed him again.

UH OH!!!!

‘My lord,’ he said, and he sounded turned on, which was how he was supposed to sound. ‘Berenger.’

love ancel being in denial about having feelings

Ancel closed his eyes. He could imagine exactly what Berenger liked, lovemaking in the dark with a young man in a plain shirt. If they ever—Ancel would have to feign at least a degree of innocence, physically experienced but emotionally unprepared, looking up at Berenger and saying it’s never been like this before. He imagined that: imagined Berenger kissing him in private. A strange shaky feeling grew in him. Berenger would kiss with the same seriousness as he was now, he probably fucked like that too, strong and steady. Berenger’s voice in his ear, roughened. ‘You’re so good at faking it.’ ‘I know,’ Ancel said. ‘I know I’m good.’

ancel is down BAD for this brown jacket man, holy shit

‘How long do we have to stay here?’ Berenger said. ‘What?’ said Ancel. ‘How long do you normally take?’ said Berenger.

wait. so ancel in the garden scene. was half trying to make berenger jealous and half trying to convince himself that he’s better off doing what anyone else but berenger would ask him to do. and failing to convince himself entirely. LOVE that alternate perspective, so cool!!

It took a moment before he understood the words, and their meaning. But the way Berenger was standing off from him, like a man who has had his evening interrupted for a charade in which he has little interest, made everything clear. Ancel pushed down the feelings in his chest, closing his eyes briefly.

ouch

‘All right,’ said Berenger, and stood there, awkwardly. Ancel heard himself say, ‘Unless, do you want—’ Me. Do you want me.

i love how free will continues to be a theme in this series, even when we’re not discussing damen and laurent. specifically regarding desire and attachment, romantic and sexual. ancel doesn’t actually want to be the person he pretends he is, lowering himself beneath his masters and helping them get off on the power they have over him; he wants to be understood and wanted for his whole self. and berenger is like the only person he’s ever met who has wished to see him as something other than a sex object or performance piece, the only person who doesn’t wish to intimately possess or control him. berenger seems to want to experience love on even footing, which in vere is highly unusual. no wonder ancel is desperate for his interest, when his interest is actually REAL.

He thought, he could make Berenger like it.

free will theme again! he made berenger like it, it wouldn’t be real. and ancel wouldn’t like it either.

‘I think we both know this isn’t working,’ Berenger said in a low voice. ‘This,’ said Ancel. Berenger wasn’t looking at him. ‘I’ll pay out your time in full. We can separate after you perform for the Patran delegation. You can tell people your contract simply came to the end of its time.’ ‘You’re ending our contract,’ said Ancel.

BRUTAL. and the thing is, berenger is being kind and selfless here. ancel has told him with words and actions that he only cares about upward social mobility, and has made it seem like berenger is holding him back. berenger is putting himself at a huge disadvantage in the regent’s court by letting ancel find another employer, but probably feels like this is the best way he can genuinely honor ancel’s stated wishes. sad little miscommunication moment, although i don’t think it’s fully that trope because ancel only subconsciously realized how he feels like five minutes ago

‘Everyone will want you after your performance. You won’t have trouble finding men to bid for you—’ ‘I know,’ said Ancel. ‘I’m the best pet at this court.’

ancel does his fire dance to “my kink is karma” by chappell roan as he desperately tries to repress his feelings

He didn’t know why, but the next day when Ancel saw Berenger talking in a low voice to Lord Droet’s pet, it made him angry, and he stalked out of the stuffy, overlit rooms, into the cool shade of the gardens.

oh, captive prince chapter 5 dubcon (and that’s generous) scene that damen took way less seriously than myself or even laurent because he (damen) grew up with sex slaves so this is kinda normal to him. oh, captive prince chapter 5 dubcon scene that, despite its problematic nature, was and still is extremely compelling to me, by which i mean unfairly hot

It was the Ambassador to Vask, her face familiar to him from a dozen evening entertainments. Ancel knew her sculptured style of dress well, the Vaskian elements she incorporated into her clothing. She had the straight-backed posture and poise of a woman used to power.

VANNES HIIIII VANNES

Vannes spoke. ‘You and Berenger are utterly mismatched. And you’re clearly ambitious. I hope you won’t hurt him too badly when you move on.’

she sees the version of ancel that he knows is wrong for himself, but he’s leaning into it because berenger’s kinda-rejection hurt so bad

Everyone would think what Vannes thought, that Berenger couldn’t hold Ancel and Ancel was moving on to someone better.

i like how this is so high stakes to ancel, for good reason, but we know that there are way higher stakes batshit insane things happening with damen and laurent right now. but ancel doesn’t care about damen and laurent. he cares about himself and berenger. just a really cool way of showing another pov for the same story!

Ancel thought of the impossible. For pets, it was epitomised by one man. The Prince. The Prince, who had never taken a pet. The Prince, who had never taken anyone, or been taken, so they said. They said he was frigid, that he had ice in his veins, that pets failed to interest him. But there was one person who had the Prince’s complete attention.

YHRWYOEGRUYWEGRUYWERHBFSDF

By the time Berenger and the others arrived, Ancel knew exactly what he was going to do.

i LOVE having this context, wow! it doesn’t really change the nature of the original scene, but adds dimension in a super satisfying way. i also really like how this works with the general vibe of book 1—it feels so isolated and depraved to read, you’re wondering “holy shit is everyone here besides damen just a terrible person?” and that’s the point, but with this addition from another perspective it’s like, hey, berenger was there the whole time. normal nice decent guy, caught up in the same shit as everyone else. who had only been trying to be kind to ancel and give him what he wanted, and most certainly did not want him to do what he does here. it reminds me of loyse, and the way she’s incorporated into the main series—so much of damen and laurent’s experiences early on are defined by struggling alone, but they’re both less alone than they thought, both in terms of sympathetic company and people dealing with the same problems they have. this is seen both in the way they are with each other, especially with the slow burn of 'Laurent is Not As Bad As Damen Thought He Was With More Context,' and the way people like loyse are slowly revealed by the narrative. it's just neat. if i ever re-read captive prince, i’ll be like, “oh it’s berenger!!!” and the scene will, in some small way, feel less isolated.

Physically imposing, and dripping with disdainful pride, he looked as though he could break any handlers in half.

love this description of damen as having “disdainful pride,” because so much of his internal narrative is considering himself a victim, which he is. but also, he is very disdainful towards this society, and prideful about his own. damen himself admits that he had prejudices and misjudgments towards vere and blind spots regarding his own society at the end of king’s rising, and it’s cool to see ancel get that impression immediately.

The younger blond slave pressed his forehead submissively to the floor, a pose that seemed designed to make you want to step on his head. Ancel found himself unaccountably irritated by the passivity.

obviously both systems are bad, but if you read my main series annotations you know i’m very much in agreement with ancel here

Berenger was frowning.

normal! reaction!

He looked scornful and unimpressed when his eyes passed briefly over Ancel, Berenger and Vannes. His only movement was to shift slightly, a rearrangement of muscle.

i looooove seeing damen from the outside, wow

Arriving in the bower, the Prince of Vere was instantly commanding, with nothing soft or yielding in him. A young man with golden hair, cold blue eyes and an arresting profile, he had a pet’s looks and a Prince’s bearing, laced up tighter than Berenger, in dark, severe clothing. He looked capable of mastering the slave through force of will, as though the slave’s discomfort was his pleasure.

good to see, in this case, that laurent is very much perceived exactly how he is trying to be perceived. we know that this is for his own safety, and it isn’t harming ancel at all. unlike in captive prince book 1, where damen is being directly harmed by laurent and his rancid vibes, albeit for stronger reasons (he knows who damen is) than either damen or the reader understand.

‘Ancel, no. He could hurt you.’ Ancel ignored Berenger, and spoke to the shoulders and back of the Prince.

this is so cool. when i read the original scene, it seemed like berenger said this out of like, petty distate for akelions and maybe jealousy. but now we know it’s because berenger thinks that this is all fucked up, and doesn’t want ancel to get hurt by his own ambition

‘Would you like that?’ Berenger frowned. ‘No. I wouldn’t.’

“would you like that [i get hurt]?” oh ancel :( and you know that he thinks berenger would, or at least wouldn’t care either way. because ancel is just 20 and emotionally undeveloped and seems not to have been truly cared for in his life

again, i assumed originally in this scene that unnamed berenger said “no i wouldn’t” because of jealousy. but that isn’t true! berenger already told ancel that he can leave! he just actually cares about ancel!

The Prince turned, and Ancel found himself the sole subject of the Prince’s attention.

i like that we know he isn’t, because the only living people capable of completely hijacking and consuming laurent’s large capacity for thought are the regent and damen

‘I think your master would prefer you intact,’ said the Prince.

in captive prince, it adds, “said laurent, dryly.” but it’s not dry to ancel, he doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that laurent is deeply unamused

‘You could tie the slave up.’ He saw the moment the Prince took in the idea. There was something more in the Prince’s eyes, something private, though it was only there for a moment, before the Prince’s expression hardened.

well yeah, but he’s not thinking about you, ancel.

Ancel looked Berenger right in the eyes. ‘Tell me how you want me to fuck him.’ ‘I don’t want you to fuck him,’ said Berenger. ‘I do,’ said Ancel. ‘I want to do it with you watching.’

new dialogue, things damen didn’t hear! i think i kinda explored what’s going on here in previous annotations

You mean with the Prince watching, Berenger didn’t say.

this is strange. at first it seems like uncharacteristic pov head jumping, but then it’s like no, this is what ancel THINKS berenger isn’t saying. ancel cannot imagine that berenger’s reluctance here could be for any other reason than, like, petty jealousy of the prince. when in reality berenger just cares about ancel and doesn’t want him to get caught up with insane terrible people

Instead, Berenger frowned in that way that he had, turned to the handlers, and gave some instructions about safety.

so they DO have safe words in vere. although maybe berenger just invented them, that sounds like something he would do

Drawn by the rarity of the spectacle, a few other courtiers had drifted over, and then a few more, a small audience gathering.

love the mention of rarity, since damen assumes that this is totally normal

Ancel didn’t need Berenger. He was going to do it with the Prince’s slave, in front of everyone. No other pet had ever won the Prince’s attention.

ancel i know you were just dumped for the first time but this is not the slay you think it is

The slave’s eyes lifted to meet Ancel’s for a moment, radiating fury, before he turned the full force of it on the Prince, who just stared back at him coldly.

don’t worry about it. they’re fine

He wasn’t a court pet, or a brothel client. He was an Akielon, named for the Akielon prince-killer.

oh my god. imagine ancel’s reaction when he learns that he had unknowingly given the future king of akielos a bj

Ancel could see, as he put his hands on those thighs, that the slave disliked him. That was irritating. Did he think Ancel was salivating to suck his cock? Pets had to do things they didn’t like all the time.

obsessed with the way ancel is projecting berenger onto this. a really neat subversion of the way he intentionally and performatively projected that other guy in order to win his favor. also fun because in the scene from damen’s perspective, ancel is very literally a projection of laurent. neither ancel nor damen are imagining this with the person actually doing it with them. is this what the “mutually unrequited sex” ao3 tag is for

It had been a long time since Ancel had given head, thanks to Berenger’s prudery. It was disconcerting, uncomfortable at first, like he didn’t want to be this close, or put his mouth on it. He pushed past the feeling. He was good at this. He knew what to do and how to do it. The uncomfortable feeling grew. The slave was too stupid to realise he was supposed to be performing.

the way it’s almost a good thing that ancel is uncomfortable right now, because it means that he’s in some small way breaking out of the fucked-up mentality he’s grown up with

love damen and ancel as foils, in terms of pride. ancel takes pride in his willingness to get his hands dirty and perform submission for social clout, damen takes pride in his unwillingness to get his hands dirty (compromise his morals) and give his submission to those who don’t deserve it. but while damen's pride is held up by honor and integrity, ancel's is held up by his own degradation.

How had he ever achieved a court position, with skills this poor? Wasn’t he trying at all?

if you really think about it, damen was a nepo hire

Ancel felt the slave jerk, his cock hardening as the Prince settled himself on the bower seat alongside them.

well, damen, i guess someone noticed how you feel about laurent

i don’t even think laurent fully notices how down bad damen is for him at this point. i think laurent just believes damen is a depraved pervert ruled by his base urges who uses sex slaves and finds him hot just like everyone else and also KILLED HIS BROTHER

‘Like this?’ The wait was deliberate, to make the Prince say it. ‘Like that.’

5d three-way dirty talk happening here. it’s not four ways because berenger definitely has clocked out by now

‘Take it all the way down,’ said the Prince, and Ancel took it deep into his throat.

i like how laurent’s dialogue is slightly different between the two scenes, and damen doesn’t register some of it, and ancel doesn’t register some of it. cool way of writing the different perspectives and showing the things that are distracting both of them, causing them to think about things other than laurent’s words. ancel is mostly thinking about how he can do this in a way that gets him noticed and hired, while damen is mostly thinking about how absurdly turned on he is by laurent being insane

Ancel half expected the Prince’s hand on his head, pushing him down the last inch, but when he glanced up, neither of the men were paying him any attention, their eyes locked on one another.

sorry ancel, they gaze a lot. it’s kind of their thing

He came up without coughing or needing a breath, a cultivated skill that was often admired.

not by damen or laurent, at the moment

It didn’t matter that the Prince didn’t seem pay him any attention, or that he was only a conduit. The slave wasn’t even looking at him. It was what he wanted.

ancel when he lies

The two of them were locked together, Ancel utterly forgotten as he rose unsteadily to his feet.

god that sucks ancel but it’s also so fucking funny (as i said in the capri chapter 5 notes, i am not taking the dubcon as seriously as i could because the book doesn’t take it seriously in this scene. damen’s rage isn’t at the lack of consent, because this is actually pretty normal to him, and not seen as demeaning in his society for a slave to do. i think more than anything else he’s mad at himself for being into this, which means that he’s mad at laurent and ancel for making him confront the fact that he’s into this)

Courtiers crowded around with accolades, comments, and congratulations. ‘You really are the perfect pet,’ and ‘I’ve never seen anyone take it like that,’ and, ‘I’d pay a fortune for you.’

but it doesn’t matter, because they’re not berenger

Berenger had a hand on his shoulder and was staring into his face. Ancel lifted his chin. ‘Did he hurt you?’ The words were short.

😭 😭 😭 😭

‘I liked it,’ said Ancel. ‘I like sucking cock. I’m a pet.’

ancel when he continues to lie

Torveld, Prince of Patras

oh i hate that guy

It was the blond slave from the bower. The insipid, spineless creature who made you want to pinch his skin, or shake him to wake up. Like a useless doe in a forest. Expecting someone else to help him. With looks like that, the blond slave could have owned this court if he’d put any work into it. Instead he was trembling and helpless and waiting for a rescue that was never going to come. It was irritating.

yeah. if not for my distance from both of these worlds, and the fact that i can afford to be more empathetic and thoughtful than ancel, this is about where i’d land too re: akelion slaves. (if you read my previous annotations of the series, i probably don’t have to tell you that.) i just like how strongly and disdainfully this is written, while still within itself being flawed. like he’s right, but it’s a sad kind of right. it’s pointing out the problem but disinterested in a solution. but it isn’t ancel’s job to have a solution, it’s the narrative’s job. and we see that happen, in a very careful slow burn from damen’s pov, during the main series.

i can’t believe people think that this series is slavery apologism. 99% of the time, this series is DETERMINED to hold itself painfully and uncomfortably responsible for the problematic content it contains. and that 1% is different for every person who reads it, based on their personal tastes and values. and that’s good, because even our favorite fiction should be something we engage with critically, rather than passively accept.

‘A whole night with the Regent?’ Ancel twirled the stick. ‘Aren’t you jealous?’ ‘I’m not jealous,’ said Nicaise. ‘You’re old.’

‘Then the Regent will call you to attend him. Everyone will see you sitting with him. That’s what you want, isn’t it? The bids for your contract will go up.’

i’m going to try to remember why this is happening. i know it’s some elaborate and probably petty bullshit. i think it’s something like 1) laurent got his ethics called into question by the guy who killed his brother and then 2) decided to do what damen asked and help the akelion slaves because he knew it was the right thing even though he hated damen so bad, therefore 3) laurent needed to create circumstances that would cause torveld to “save” them from the regent without his (laurent's) direct intervention so 4) laurent antagonized nicaise into making a bet that his (laurent’s) plan to get torveld to take the slaves wouldn’t work and then loudly talked about that plan in front of nicaise, prompting 5) nicaise to arrange a sadistic performance of slaves for the regent so the sadistic regent would want to keep the slaves, therefore winning nicaise the bet against laurent 6) which laurent knew would literally backfire because the fire would frighten the slaves and then prompt to torveld take them out of sympathy and pity. yeah i think that's it

It made Ancel angry. This mewling creature who had been brought to court and lavished with every opportunity that Ancel had worked for, was doing nothing to advance his own career, even now. But in the next moment Prince Torveld was calling the slave over, and—rather than booting him out of the hall—was fussing over him, talking to him, stroking his tousled blond head. Ancel gaped. Prince Torveld was taking the slave into his household? For what? For being too weak to survive at court? The unfairness was terrible. If Ancel had wanly lain down and waited for a rescuer, he would have died in the street.

i really like this short story. i like ancel’s character, and what the story is trying to say. it fits very nicely with the overall series themes about weakness/strength, submission/domination, and free will. also intimacy and trust, although that’s almost by omission.

‘Tell me about your master,’ the Regent said. ‘Lord Berenger.’ ‘He’s boring,’ said Ancel. ‘Serious. Loyal.’ ‘Loyal to my nephew,’ said the Regent. He spoke pleasantly, tweaking Ancel’s hair as he did so. The sharp tug hurt.

WOAH THIS IS COOL. we hardly got to see any of the regent’s private contributions to the complicated vere court nonsense in captive prince (there was that scene where he talked to damen alone, but that might have been it?)

‘Loyal to the throne.’ Ancel’s heart had started beating faster.

i like how the regent equates his nephew with the throne. so different from how he talks to laurent in front of the council. clearly, out of earshot of anyone who actually matters politically, the regent is threatened by his nephew.

‘I’ve heard he’s met with my nephew, several times. What was discussed?’ ‘I couldn’t say. I wasn’t there for the meetings.’ He kept his tone light. ‘So there were meetings.’

berenger you’re so real for that

His mouth felt dry suddenly, and it was hard to swallow. He thought of Berenger in the hall somewhere behind him, wondered if Berenger was looking at him, thought he probably wasn’t. ‘No. I mean that I don’t know—I don’t know what meetings he’s taken.’

ancel can tell that berenger is in danger, and even though he thinks berenger wants nothing to do with him, he tries to protect him

‘Oh dear.’ The tone was disappointed. ‘I thought you were clever.’ The Regent shifted, forcing Ancel to reposition, awkwardly. He was motioning for one of the servants to approach, looking past Ancel as though he was done with him. ‘I am.’ Ancel’s heart was pounding. ‘You just haven’t asked the right question.’ ‘And what’s that,’ said the Regent. ‘If I’m loyal,’ said Ancel.

and here’s the temptation of ancel finally getting what he’s always said he wanted, he just has to throw berenger under the bus. he tries to avoid this by making berenger irrelevant and putting the attention on himself, but we know that the regent does not give a shit about ancel, politically or sexually.

Ancel watched him turn away, watched him enter the darkened part of the rooms that held his bed, beginning to unlace his own jacket. ‘I didn’t tell him anything.’ The words were a blurt, delivered to the back of Berenger’s shoulders. Berenger’s movement came to a halt.

i really like ancel.

‘About you and the Prince. That you’ve been meeting secretly each night. That you’re taking his side, that you’ve offered him funding and passage through Varenne, I didn’t tell him any of that, I thought that you—’

oh shit it’s that deep!!! fuck yeah berenger! wait does that mean that berenger had been loyal to laurent and thinking he was an admirable person for months/years only to see laurent in full sadistic kinky joker mode with a person who he doesn't know is laurent's brother's killer? do you think he was like "oh great, he's actually a freak too. fuck my life"

Berenger turned. Berenger was across the room, his hands on Ancel’s arms, gripping him tightly, his eyes boring into Ancel’s. ‘Stop it. You’re spoiling my clothes. I didn’t tell him. I told you. I didn’t tell him anything.’

oh, ancel immediately thinks he’s going to be punished and stripped of the nice things he’s been given. that’s so fucking sad :(

‘How do you know about any of that?’ ‘Just because I like nice things, and don’t read the boring books you like, doesn’t mean I’m stup—’ ‘This isn’t a game, Ancel.’

most! normal! man! in! this! series!

‘I’m trying to secure my future! I need to go somewhere. After you—after you end my contract.'

true, and explains some of the desperation ancel typically chooses not to acknowledge because of his pride

‘So that’s it. You want gifts?’ Berenger said, in a flat, deadly voice, ‘Are you trying to blackmail me for money?’ Ancel felt his mouth turn to sand. ‘No.’

ancel doesn’t want gifts! he wants a friend!!! i love this story, especially in this shitty world!!!!

‘I don’t want—I told you, I didn’t tell him anything. I wouldn’t. I was your pet, I thought we—I don’t want your money like that—’

going to be HUGE when ancel learns how healthy friendships and relationships work. people just do nice things for each other, and are loyal to each other, because they care and it’s what they want to do

‘You must hate me.’ ‘Hate you?’ said Berenger. ‘Why would I hate you? You’ve always been honest with me. You never tried to hide what you were.’ ‘A whore,’ said Ancel.

oh fuck.

really, really good choice of a word there. it’s easy to get caught up in the insane gimmicks of the veretian court, the slight dark humor to it, the way pets act like they’re playing the game willingly because this is a way for them to be treated well and showered with praise. but deep down, this system exists so they can be perceived as whores, belonging and submissive to people whose power rests on their degradation. and deep down, that’s how they feel about themselves.

goddamn, it is cool to see the worldbuilding expanded upon from this perspective.

‘So what if I am? I’m not ashamed of it. I’m good at it. I can make men want me.’ His voice felt raw. ‘It just doesn’t work on you.’

FREE WILL, POWER, AND TRUST THEMES DING DING DING

Berenger would be just one more owner, one more man from his past, one more name on a list. There was a hard pressure in his chest that he had to ignore. He would turn and walk away from it, he would move on to the next man, and the next. ‘It works on me,’ said Berenger.

okay, i like it being romantic, i think. because just like damen and laurent, their friendship and romance are deeply connected. and i’m glad that these two characters can find each other and be REAL in the midst of the fake nonsense

The words, in Berenger’s honest voice, at first didn’t make sense.

ancel can’t accept praise if he knows the person giving it is being honest, understands who he truly is, and expects nothing in return. girl same

‘You’ve never—’ ‘You never wanted me to.’ ‘Is that what you think?’ said Ancel. ‘Yes,’ said Berenger, steadily.

berenger clocked that ancel didn’t really want to be any of this long before ancel did, and has always respected that. i’m glad that he exists in this world.

‘If the Regent prevails, I won’t have money or lands. You should be with someone who can give you the luxuries you deserve, not someone who’ll embroil you in—’ ‘That’s why?’ said Ancel. ‘That’s why you decided to break my contract?’ He made sense of that much. And he clung to it. He wanted to ask, Does that mean you’re not giving me up because you don’t want me? He didn’t know how to ask that. He was usually so good at asking for what he wanted.

this is so fucking good. oh my god, this short story has been like a masterclass of creating a contained and intimate plot that develops a character individually and in relation to another character, while using the world around them to synthesize relevant and gratifying thematic development. it just comes together so perfectly, and simultaneously feels laser-focused and extremely wide in scope. SO good.

‘Can you honestly tell me that you’d want to stay with me if it meant risking your position?’ Berenger said. ‘If I had no money?’ ‘I’ve never fucked anyone without it being for money.’ The words came out differently than he’d intended. The painfully straightforward way that Berenger had asked him that question meant that Ancel had given an honest answer.

they’re matching each other’s freak, if "freak" means “honest person moving towards a healthier state of mind.” meanwhile, damen and laurent—

It was Berenger who spoke. ‘When I saw you in the ring, I thought you were incredible. You were fearless, powerful. You took on every lord in the room, and beat them. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.’

oh i go crazy for “i want to possess you because i am compelled by your unique and attractive qualities and i want to keep you by my side, not because i want to degrade and reduce you until you’re beneath me.” which is probably why i really like the captive prince series by cs pacat, but not like 80% of fiction with similar kink-related premises

‘I don’t care what might happen.’ He was moving forward, because Berenger wanted him.

oh.

those two sentences didn’t quite get me to tear up, but uhhhh they came pretty close

‘If he fails,’ said Ancel. He was stepping into Berenger’s space. He put his hand on the laces of Berenger’s jacket, and Berenger didn’t move away. ‘But if he wins?’

:’) the metatextual conversation this story has been having with the reader the entire time, tied in perfectly with the events at the forefront. really, really well done.

final notes:

not going to lie, i think i liked this short story more than 40-60% of king’s rising. damn.

honestly, i kind of hope ancel and berenger don’t end up together immediately. berenger is still 10 years older than ancel, and is like the first person in ancel’s life to show him respect. what rings truest to me is the idea of them being close friends and allies especially during the turbulent wartimes, and hooking up a few times and enjoying it, but a much more confident ancel eventually considering other partners and at least making more friends. either ancel doesn’t end up romantically with berenger because there’s someone even better suited for him romantically and sexually, or he decides that he truly does want berenger because even though there are other people who would love him for who he is, none of them are berenger. either way, they’re close friends the entire time and it’s very sweet. i like them a lot.

[fictionlovingnerdgirl]

We Fell In Love (In October)

A/N: I'll be getting to requests soon but I really wanted to do something like this for Halloween, I hope you guys understand. And again, trying not to use Y/N but it might slip in there 💀

Warnings: Kissing, but very light innocent kissing

Summary: You and Scott go out to a fall festival, Scott just got broken up with and you might be able to cheer him up :]

Paring: Scott Summers X Fem!Reader

The air was crisp, the smell of fall littered the whole house as you were stirring in your bed. It was the day before Halloween and you had no plans, how lame was that? You sighed and sat up, going to get a cute outfit on, a brown leather jacket, dark brown top, red scarf, jeans, and doc martens. Maybe you'd go out to the fall festival, or hang out with friends? But most people already had plans. Way to go for planning ahead.

The institute was barren, almost no one to be found as you walked down the halls and to the library, except... Scott Summers? She was sitting on a sofa holding a cup of coffee, looking at a book but obviously not reading it, his glasses covered his eyes but you could tell his mind was elsewhere.

You sighed and turned to leave before getting a brilliant idea, smirking and walking confidently towards him. "Wanna do something?" You blurt out as he jumps a bit, closing the book and turning towards you. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, tomorrow's Halloween and all my friends have plans, I thought maybe.. we could do something?" You say, your confidence wearing thin as you watch him, not knowing where his eyes were. She slowly starts nodding, "okay.. okay, yeah. What were you thinking?" He sits up, looking more serious.

You let out a breathe you did even know you were holding. "Uh, fall festival? I was also thinking of going later tonight but if you're not free we can do something else." He nods and you feel like your heart is gonna explode. "When do we leave?" he smiles slightly, and your heart actually DOES explode. Your interest in Scott didn't appear until now, this was uncalled for.

"Uhh, I sleep in so.. what time is it?" You check your phone and it's 3 PM "maybe at... Six?" You say, holding your breath again, hoping he doesn't have plans, instead he nods and hums, "okay, okay, I'll pick you up at your room at five fifty?". You nod eagerly, giving final goodbyes and fastly walk towards your room as you turn the corner from the library.

Hell yeah

Getting ready for a fall festival? Easy enough. Getting ready for a fall festival with a hot guy that for some reason you randomly want to kiss? Not easy. And nothing was looking perfect, it was hard enough finding cute clothes, but finding cute clothes that Scott might like was like a whole other subject. He was so.. fashionable. Somehow. Most guys aren't, but he definitely knew how to dress himself.

You put some products in your hair and try a few different outfits before deciding on a creme top, a dark brown jacket, a red scarf, flared jeans and a cute pair of doc martens. That was fall-y, for sure. But would he like it? Probably, it would be fine. Stop overthinking it.

A knock at the door startles you, you just got finished putting on your shoes too, he was perfectly on time. Opening the door he looks up from the floor, smiling slightly, "Are you ready?" She tilts his head a bit, cute.

"yeah- I'm ready." Smiling back, he definitely didn't hate the outfit, thank God. Wait, was this a date?

You two walk to his car together, (which was also perfect, just like him) and he walks to the passenger side, opening the door and nodding for you to get in. Your heart quickens and you can feel your hands get clammy, this was not the plan, it wasn't supposed to be so stressful.

The silence is almost awkward, and you can't tell where he's looking like, ever. So you sit there, hands in your lap, and look at your feet, his voice startling you. "I haven't... Gone out in a while." She looks almost embarrassed "Not since me and Jean broke up."

Ah, of course. That makes sense now, that's why he was in the library and not even reading the book. Is body language seeming tired. "It's all good, I don't have many friends that wanna go out anyway." She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

Scott laughs a bit at your comment, pulling into the parking lot, getting out and walking over to your side and opening your door, holding his hand out. It felt like a moment from a movie, or a book. Taking his hand and getting out of the car, feeling a bit more comfortable in his presence knowing he was nervous. It was cute.

The festival wasn't packed, but it wasn't abandoned, it was almost perfect. "I've.. never been to a fall festival." He looks at you as you let out a dramatic gasp "that's a crime, Summers!" You cry out, he laughs at your dramatic display, his shoulders relaxing and his body language going from professional and gentlemanly to comfortable and himself.

"Well... Let's fix that." You sigh and take his hand in yours, his face turning a shade of pink as his hums and nods. Making your way to the concession stand and getting some food, his presence oddly comforting and you feel your heart swell, dating never went well for you and it always ended with you promising to never care for someone ever again. This felt.. different.

After eating some pie and drinking warm apple cider, you get up and walk together in the corn maze, it wasn't too big so it shouldn't be so hard but for some damn reason you always kept circling around to the entrance.

"Damn it, isn't this supposed to be at least kind of easy?" You say, your voice laced with annoyance but you also found it kind of hilarious. Scott's face looked way too serious about the matter, "I'm giving up, we can just go sit on that porch swing." He sighs and walks over to the swing, his face still serious and almost annoyed. "Not having fun?" You say softly. "It's not that, I'm having a great time, it's just..." He pauses and looks down at his hands, his gears turning, it's obvious on his face.

"I think I'm having too much fun, I just broke up with Jean but I... I feel perfectly fine. I like it here. With you." He says the last part almost as a whisper, his face hard to see but you could almost tell his face was flushed. "Scott, that's not a bad thing." Softly putting your hand over his, your thumb grazing over his knuckles and you smile at him, turning all your attention to him.

"I know, I guess it's just hard to admit." She turns his head towards you and you're inches away from each other. Opening your mouth slightly to speak but nothing comes out, your hand reaches out to caress the side of his face. "That's okay, no rush." You say in a whisper, before leaning in a bit to see what he would do. Surprisingly he doesn't lean away, instead capturing your lips in a soft kiss, one filled with gentleness and love. She had so much love to give, Jean was always selfish and took it for granted. You wouldn't.

You quickly return the kiss, deepening it but not too much, keeping a sort of soft innocence in it before reluctantly pulling away. "So, you don't mind a little rush?" You tease. His face is blank and you can see the slight blush on it. "I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted, I just-" he's interrupted, you lean back in and kiss him once more, just for a second.

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

[sissylittlefeather]

Here's number 2! This one is longer, with a plot indicated but not really stated. This could be a continuation of the first one, really. Basically, Elvis and a long-term partner who he met early on and could never quite let go of. I will probably revisit this one and either rewrite the ending or give more backstory. Maybe there'll be a part 3 prequel. Who knows? These fics take up a mind of their own while I'm writing them.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, p in v sex, infidelity, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, cussing, fluffy smut, angsttttt, and probably more

Rating: definitely at least R, still pretty tame use of language, but it's pretty sexy, either way NO MINORS. LOOK AWAY.

I have no idea what the word count is 😬. Feel free to imagine the real EP or Austin EP, I go back and forth in my mind.

Feels like Forever

You're in bed with a book when you hear a soft knock on your door. You glance at the clock on the night stand. Almost midnight. He's late. Still, it's been over six months since you've seen him, so you don't want to waste too much time being angry. You stand up and pull your silky pink robe tighter around your body, on the off chance that it's not him. Even if it is, you don't want to give him too much of a show too quickly.

There's another quiet knock as you walk to the door.

"Hang on, I'm coming."

You pull open the door to find Elvis standing there, leaning against the door frame. He's wearing a black jacket and pants with a red scarf hanging loosely around his neck. He's also holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

"Hey baby." He does something between a smile and a smirk, hoping you won't notice the time.

"You're late." You turn around and walk into the room. You're not really mad, but you want him to know that you wish he'd been there earlier. He follows you into the room, setting the champagne and glasses on a little table.

"Aww, honey, I'm sorry. I just got caught up talking with the guys and they wouldn't let me leave. You know I don't want to miss a minute that I can be with you."

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder. You feel yourself melt at his touch.

"Let me make it up to you? I really missed you."

"I missed you too." You say quietly as you turn to face him, putting your arms around his neck. He maintains his hold on your waist. He has that look in his eye like he wants to kiss you, but he's not quite sure if he's forgiven. He decides to risk it anyway, but he moves in slowly, like the first time he kissed you all those years ago. It's been so long, and so much has changed, but sometimes you can still catch glimpses of the boy you fell in love with. His lips press against yours, softly at first and then with more pressure, like he finally remembers who you both are and what you mean to each other. Your lips part and this time it's your tongue that does the playful teasing.

"Mmmm" he hums softly before opening his mouth and sending his tongue in to dance with yours. There's a give and take to the way you kiss him that's unlike anything else you've ever experienced. It truly is like a dance and you never want the song to end.

He reaches down to grab your thighs and pick you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, still kissing him deeply. He carries you to the bed and lays you down gently. You can tell his desire is burning hotter with every second he spends in your room-- yours is too-- but he's still moving slowly, dwelling in each sensation. He's on top of you in the bed now. You can feel his hardness pressed against your thigh and your body responds to knowing he's so close by. You pull his scarf off and toss it to the side. You start to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

"This. Off. Now." You mumble as you try to push his shirt off of his shoulders. At this point, you can only manage single syllables. He chuckles a little, now fully aware of the effect he's had on you. He knows he's forgiven for being late. As he sits up on his knees to remove his shirt, you take in the beauty of his body. It's not perfectly cut, but it's masculine and strong, making you feel small and safe. You long to feel him against you again. But he has something a little different in mind. He unties your robe and lets the pieces slip over to the sides, revealing you. You watch his eyes as they roam over your body, taking in every last bit of you.

"Damn, you're beautiful."

This is another one of your favorite things about him. No matter how many times he's seen you naked, every time is like the first time and it makes you feel as beautiful as he says you are. He leans over you, exploring your chest with his mouth, stopping here and there to kiss, suck, and nibble on the most sensitive places. You moan a little and arch your back, enjoying the feel of his lips and tongue on your body. You want him to keep going further down to where you ache for him to touch you. Seemingly reading your mind, he kisses the spot right below your belly button and slides his thumbs under the sides of your panties to pull them down.

In a second, he's back at your hips and you spread your legs open to give him access to you. Slowly, he licks on either side of the center spot, teasing you.

"Elvis, please, don't..." you trail off as he presses his tongue hard against you and you gasp audibly. He gets to work moving his tongue back and forth and around in circles. You can feel the ecstasy building inside you and you know your release is coming quickly. He slides his index and middle fingers into you and back out again and back in again, still moving his tongue over and around you. He knows how close you are too and he's going to use every skill he's got to push you over the edge.

"Oh fuck, Elvis, fuck" you almost scream as you hit your climax and he doesn't stop what he's doing. Waves of pleasure wash over you, crashing into your hips and thighs, making you pulse around his fingers. You put your hand on top of his head to let him know you need him to stop before the sensation completely overwhelms you. He pulls away and looks up at you smiling. He likes knowing he's done a good job and based on your reaction he's feeling pretty confident.

He climbs back up your body, wiping his mouth with his hand and kissing your stomach, your chest, your neck, finally landing back at your mouth. He tastes sweet now, but with the way he's kissing you, you barely notice.

Your fingers begin to fumble with his pants button and zipper. You need him inside you. He stops kissing you long enough to get his pants off. For a second he hovers over you, both of you breathing heavily.

"I've waited so long for this" he whispers breathily in your ear. You reach down, lining him up with you.

"Me too. Now fuck me, Elvis Presley, like this is the last night we'll ever be together." He groans at the thought and enters you fully in a single shot. He pumps into you rhythmically, in and out and in again. But you don't let him stay in that position for long.

"Sit up." He obeys, rearranging himself until he's sitting with his back against the headboard. You hold on to the top of the wooden headboard and lower yourself onto him, taking in his hardness slowly.

"Mmm." You hum with him, putting your forehead against his. You throw your head back and slide up and down on him in a slow but steady pattern.

Suddenly, you stop, looking into his eyes.

"Oh, no, baby, please don't do this to me." He pleads. You bounce lightly on just the top inch of him.

"Please let me have all of you. I need it. I might go crazy, honey." More light bouncing.

"What do you want, honey? I'll give you anything right now."

"Shhh baby" you respond, putting a finger on his lips before you plant a deep kiss there.

The only thing you want from him right now is the full length of him inside you, so you lower yourself onto him until he's filling you entirely.

"Oh fuck, y/n, yes that's what I needed." You feel him shudder beneath you as you continue to slide up and down on him, taking him as deeply as possible every time.

He looks into your eyes and laughs, "you know I love it and hate it when you do that."

"Why do you think I do it?" You smile playfully.

"Mmm" he smiles and closes his eyes again as you continue to ride him.

"I'm gettin' close, baby."

"In that case..." You climb off of him and lay on your stomach next to him, head on your arms, knowing this is one of his favorite ways to finish. He straddles your hips and hovers over you again, this time moving your hair out of the way to kiss the back of your neck and your shoulder. You feel him line himself up with you from behind. He enters the same place he just was, but from a completely different angle and you moan with the pleasure of having him back inside you. He picks up the pace of his thrusting.

"No." He pulls out of you suddenly and the sensation shocks you.

"What...?" He rolls you over onto your back and pushes himself back into you. He's kissing you all over your neck and face.

"If this is the last time, I want to kiss you as much as I can." He's not wrong that something about this time feels particularly final. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze your eyes closed. You will not cry over this married man who has held your heart since that first time you were together. You realize he's holding you just as tightly as he continues the slow rhythm he started after he rolled you over.

"I love--" he starts but you interrupt him.

"Don't." You pull it together just long enough to push him onto his back one last time, climb on top, and ride him until he's so overwhelmed with ecstatic pleasure that he can't think about what just happened.

"Oh fuck, baby, thank you." He sighs. You roll onto your back next to him and stare at the ceiling, naked and dripping sweat, not sure if he's thanking you for finishing him or for keeping him from saying things he might regret. You lay there next to each other for what feels like forever, but isn't.

[jujumin-translates]

Sakuya Sakuma | [SSR] Odairi-sama on a Sunny Day | Spring Troupe-Colored Hanging Decorations

Sakuya: I’ve got my part-time daycare job tomorrow, so I might be back a little later.

Izumi: I see. Okay, got it.

Tsuzuru: I didn’t know you were working part-time at a daycare.

Sakuya: Yeah! I was introduced to it a while ago by an actor during a guest performance.

Tsuzuru: I see. I know it’s pretty hard to deal with kids, so hang in there.

Tsuzuru: If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know. I’m also pretty used to dealing with little kids.

Sakuya: Thank you so much! I’ll do my best!

· • —– �� ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Child A: Sakuya-sensei, read this book!

Child B: Sakuya-sensei, play with me!

Sakuya: Whoa whoa, first we’ll read the book, and then we’ll all play together!

Children: Okay!

Sakuya: Well then, let’s sit over here. Now we’ll start~.

Sakuya: “Once upon a time, there was a place where…”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: Phew…

Kindergarten Principal: Good work, Sakuya-kun. Do you have a moment?

Sakuya: What’s up?

Kindergarten Principal: Sakuya-kun, I have a favor to ask of you…

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: Here, like this… And this goes inside then? Umm…

Citron: Sakuya, what are you making?

Sakuya: Well, at the daycare center, we decided to make hanging decorations for Hinamatsuri.

Citron: Hanging decorations…?

Sakuya: Yeah. It’s a decoration like the one in this book.

Citron: Ooh, that’s a very cute decoration!

Sakuya: The principal asked me to make one as a sample.

Sakuya: They know that I’m in a theater troupe, so they said I didn’t have to push myself if I didn’t have time, but--.

Sakuya: I thought I’d give it a try, so I did it.

Sakuya: But… I’m really clumsy…

Sakuya: I’ve been trying to make one for a while now, but I just can’t seem to get it right…

Citron: There there… Oh, but the power of art is much stronger than that~!

Sakuya: Agh, I’m not even really sure what this even looks like though…

Citron: It is okay, Sakuya! It is in times like these that it’s good to have everyone to lean on!

Sakuya: Eh?

Citron: Quickly, let’s go!

Sakuya: Wahh! P-Please wait, Citron-san~!

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Tsuzuru: What’s up with you calling us out of nowhere?

Citron: We are going to help Sakuya!

Masumi: Why so suddenly?

Itaru: I’m willing to do that regardless, but I still need an explanation.

Sakuya: Sorry, I can explain…! I’ve been working part-time at a daycare and they asked me to--.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Chikage: I see. Well then, I guess we’ll help you make the hanging decorations then.

Citron: Yes, something like that!

Masumi: Such a pain.

Itaru: This seems like the kind of thing Director-san would like though.

Chikage: Yeah, it’s definitely something she’d love to see.

Masumi: I’ll make it.

Tsuzuru: You really are simple, huh…

Sakuya: I would be really happy to have your help…

Itaru: Come on, you know the six of us can handle it.

Tsuzuru: And we’ve got a book on how to make them too.

Sakuya: Then, thank you so much…!

Chikage: So, which decoration should I make?

Sakuya: The kindergarten principal asked me to make five of them in total. A hydrangea one, a windmill one, a sakura one, a dango one, and a bush warbler one.

Tsuzuru: So, if each of us makes one, we should be all good, right?

Itaru: Yeah.

Citron: Then I would like to make the dango one!

Sakuya: Ah, by the way, the decorations all have meaning. Dango are said to bring good luck if they are pink, white, and green in color. The green coming from the medicinal herb, yomogi.

Citron: Oh! There is so much meaning!

Tsuzuru: And for the hydrangea one?

Sakuya: I heard the hydrangea one is supposed to represent happy family gatherings. So maybe it’s fitting for you Tsuzuru-kun, since you have such a big family.

Tsuzuru: Gotcha. Well then, since you suggested it, Sakuya, I’ll go with the hydrangea.

Sakuya: And then for sakura, they’re supposed to celebrate the beginning of things and the wish for permanence and continuation…

Masumi: I’ll take that one.

Itaru: You, Masumi?

Masumi: For when I marry Director and to celebrate the beginning of our lives together…

Sakuya: Y-You can take the sakura one then, Masumi-kun!

Chikage: Predictable.

Citron: And for the windmill and bush warbler?

Itaru: What’s the meaning for those two?

Sakuya: The windmill is said to be a wish for good wind direction and for things to go well overall.

Itaru: For things to go well overall… So if I said gacha…

Tsuzuru: Why are you like this?

Chikage: He’s nothing but a mass of desire.

Citron: Oh, Itaru has said the same about Masumi~.

Itaru: I’ll take the windmill.

Masumi: So Chikage gets the warbler then.

Chikage: Seems like it.

Sakuya: The bush warbler is said to be a good omen that signals the coming of spring.

Sakuya: It’d be nice if we as Spring Troupe could be like that!

Tsuzuru: Yeah, it would.

Citron: That is wonderful, Sakuya!

Itaru: Alright, let’s get going.

Citron: Let’s all make very cute decorations~!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: And then like this… Alright, all done!

Tsuzuru: Yeah, not too bad.

Chikage: Agreed. The colors are well balanced.

Masumi: She’ll absolutely love them…

Itaru: Was kinda a whole ordeal to do though…

Citron: But it was very fun!

Itaru: Well, true.

Sakuya: It was all thanks to you guys that we got these super wonderful decorations made. I’m sure the principal will love them.

Sakuya: Thank you so much!

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Sakuya: Principal, I got the hanging decorations made!

Kindergarten Principal: Oh, those are so lovely. They’re absolutely wonderful, thank you so much.

Kindergarten Principal: Let’s use this concept to make with the children.

Sakuya: Okay!

Sakuya: …This is a little embarrassing to admit, but I’m actually really clumsy with my hands. So it was thanks to the help of the friends from my theater troupe that I was able to make these wonderful things.

Kindergarten Principal: Is that so? Then pass my thanks to your theater company friends as well.

Kindergarten Principal: I apologize that this is all I have as a thank you for such a lovely creation…

Sakuya: Waah, hina-arare! Is it really okay for me to have this much? (1)

Kindergarten Principal: Of course.

Kindergarten Principal: Oh, did you also know that the colors of the hina-arare have meanings? The colors red, green, yellow, and white represent the four seasons.

Sakuya: Really!? That’s kinda like my theater troupe. We’re divided into four sub-troupes: Spring Troupe, Summer Troupe, Autumn Troupe, and Winter troupe.

Kindergarten Principal: Well, it seems like it’s very fitting for your theater troupe, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: Yeah, it really does.

Sakuya: (But… Why do I feel like I’ve heard that meaning somewhere else before…?)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: Huh, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: Director! Are you coming back from shopping?

Izumi: I am. Are you coming back from your part-time job?

Sakuya: Yeah, I am. Ah, let me carry your bags!

Izumi: Thank you. How was it at the daycare?

Sakuya: There’s still a lot that I’m not quite used to, but it’s a lot of fun!

Sakuya: I brought the hanging decorations I made with Spring Troupe to the principal today.

Izumi: Ah, I heard about making those from the rest of Spring Troupe.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Choose!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 1: What kind of hanging decorations did you make?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: What kind of hanging decorations did you make?

Sakuya: Ah, the actual ones are with the principal, but I have a picture of them.

Sakuya: Umm… Here!

Izumi: Aw, they’re so cute! There’s so many different kinds.

Sakuya: Yeah! I also learned about the different meanings and wishes of the different kinds.

Sakuya: We only made five this time, but there’s lots of other decorations of flowers, birds, vegetables, and all sorts of things.

Sakuya: Like triangle decorations, carrots, and kimono ornaments. Misumi-san, Homare-san, and Yuki-kun would probably like those!

Izumi: Ahaha, they probably would.

Izumi: Oh, if there are lots of different bird decorations, maybe we could make a Kamekichi one for a MANKAI version of decorations.

Sakuya: Waah, I like that idea!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 2: Sounds like fun to make.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: Sounds like fun to make.

Sakuya: Yeah! It was really fun.

Sakuya: I would ask for advice on how to make them, and everyone else would help me out with it.

Sakuya: It was really fun and informative to talk about all sorts of different things while making them.

Izumi: If you had been making them alone, you probably would’ve gotten stuck, so it’s much better to have others there.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: I’m really glad I had the other guys there to help me. It’s thanks to them that I could make such beautiful hanging decorations.

Sakuya: As a thanks, I got some hina-arare.

Izumi: Wah, really!? Sounds yummy.

Sakuya: The principal told me the meaning behind hina-arare, but I felt like I remembered hearing it somewhere else before.

Izumi: Really? Did someone teach it to you in the past?

Izumi: I know your childhood memories might be a little vague, but maybe there’s something there.

Izumi: But given that you’re a guy, you probably wouldn’t have been that familiar with Hinamatsuri.

Sakuya: Now that I think about it… A house I used to live at had some really nice hina dolls on display.

Sakuya: There was a girl at that house, so I think her parents probably had the decorations up for her.

Sakuya: I thought they were really pretty, but it’s a girl’s event, so I thought it’d be too much to ask for a closer look…

Sakuya: So I just looked at the dolls from afar.

Izumi: I see…

Sakuya: Back then, I think the girl’s mother was telling the girl about the meaning of the four seasons while giving her hina-arare.

Sakuya: Even if it was someone telling it to someone else, I guess that’s how I remember it.

Izumi: …

Sakuya: Wait, Director, why do you look so sad…!?

Izumi: It’s nothing, I just thought I might’ve reminded you of something you didn’t really want to remember…

Sakuya: No, it’s nothing like that.

Sakuya: Sure, maybe I don’t have the happiest memories from living in that house, but…

Sakuya: All that matters is that I’m happy now.

Sakuya: So you don’t need to look so sad like that, Director.

Izumi: (Sakuya-kun…)

Izumi: …Alright, Sakuya-kun. Let’s head back home so we can eat hina-arare with everyone!

Sakuya: --! Yeah, let’s do that!

• • •

T/N:

(1) Hina-arare is a sweet rice cracker served at Hinamatsuri.

[oo-hazel-oo]

hey everyone, i’m back… sort of.

i know i disappeared off the face of the planet for a while and i’ve been absolutely awful at keeping in touch with so many of you, which i am so, so sorry for. i’ve been dealing with some health stuff that prompted me to take a social media break, but it was one of my new year’s resolutions to reconnect with you all. i’ve missed everyone so much. so to start 2024 off on the right foot, i thought i’d give you all a recap of the past six months! i also thought i owed y’all an explanation for why i disappeared for so long, so i included that below the cut (tw: health stuff - if you have health anxiety, don’t read - or if you’re just wanting some happy news, feel free to read the fun update instead!)

fun update

some amazing things have happened this year!

♥️ i graduated university with first-class-honors!

♥️ i got to meet some of my amazing internet friends in-person (shout out to @just-another-dreamerr <3)

♥️ i finally got my u.k. citizenship and decided to move to scotland on a more permanent basis (will be starting grad school in sept. 2024)

♥️ got to spend some quality time with my best friend before she moved across the country

♥️ rediscovered the joy of live music

♥️ received amazing recommendations from my professors for my grad school applications, which really helped validate my writing and made me smile for a week straight

♥️ i got to travel across europe with friends and family - saw some beautiful places, ate incredible food, and met some of the kindest, most generous people

♥️ got to witness my favorite football (soccer) team make it to playoffs

♥️ improved my crocheting so i now i get to make lots of little gifts for friends and family

♥️ finally found a curly hair routine i love!

not-so-fun update

(again, tw: health stuff)

so over the past year i’ve been dealing with health issues, both physical and mental, and i finally went to my GP to address them last january. they essentially told me that everything could be attributed to anxiety and low iron levels; i accepted this at first, but when symptoms persisted over spring/summer, i became a bit frustrated - i felt like once anxiety was added to my record, it was all the doctors would acknowledge. anyways, flash forward to a month ago when i finally found a symptom that was a bit more difficult to just brush off as anxiety - a painless, hard lump at the base of my neck.

as soon as i found it, i booked an appointment with my family’s doctor, as i have family history of cancer (including my mom and grandma), and have since become wary of any unusual lumps and bumps. but to be honest with you, i wasn’t that worried - i was assuming it was just a swollen lymph node. this new doctor was more thorough than any doctor i had seen in the past. she ran a bunch of tests and discovered that my WBC count was low. my iron levels were actually great, which surprised me because i had attributed lots of my previous symptoms to iron deficiency. she took a look at my neck and immediately was concerned by the size, texture, and location of the lump and referred me for an urgent ultrasound, which i have on the 8th, to (hopefully) rule out the possibility of lymphoma.

needless to say, i’m panicking a bit. on the one hand, i’m glad i’m finally being taken seriously by a doctor. on the other hand, i’m supposed to move to the u.k. on the 19th and no longer know if that will be happening. the not-knowing and waiting around is really, really hard.

so it’s been a difficult start of the year for me and i feel a bit burnt out by everything. but i’m trying to keep myself busy with the things i love and hope that this will at the very least give me some much-needed answers.

anyways, i love you all so much and hope the new year is treating you well. and if it’s not, know that you definitely are not alone. please shoot me a message, even if we’ve never really talked, i really want to catch up and hear about all the amazing things y’all have been up to! ♥️

[adonis-koo]

So.. I was researching why Haunting Adeline was banned.

Apparently the story is like a stalkery yandere "romance" between the two main characters. I won't say more than that.

And, from what I know, I've read fanfiction stories more graphic than this story in my opinion. Sometimes I enjoy reading graphic stories.

Yeah I was doing some research on it as well and found quickly that It does have some pretty triggering content but TBF the author has a trigger claim at the beginning of the book warning about some of the content, which is appreciated.

I found a PDF online to read and I’m about six chapters in (might’ve skipped around and read a few of the smut scenes cus I got impatient and curious) and so far it’s been okay, I have to say I can’t decide if I like the MC or not, which says a lot because I can usually ignore a lot of stereotypical annoying or ‘bad’, her cynical attitude towards everything gets old really quickly and it seems like she’s never caught off guard, or always has something quick witted to say, but in a ‘always one up’s someone else’ kind of way.

Same thing for MMC, like I LOVE the descriptions and the author does a great job setting the mood but the atmosphere is constantly broken by the corny dialogue 😭 it makes it really difficult to take the story seriously.

I also feel like all the characters suffer from ‘cool character syndrome’, like the story tries to make them seem so cool and badass, it feels like the author is trying really hard to convince us they are, rather then show us. and look maybe I’m being hypercritical MAYBE it’ll improve as the story goes on, but it’s really setting a precedent that’s difficult to ignore so far.

As I said before I did skip ahead and read a few smut scenes because I was curious and honestly, if you been around the block few times on NSFW ao3, it’s really not as shocking and outrageous as some have said, however if you’ve only read vanilla then I can definitely understand the shock value for a first time reader for kinks, a lot of it is very dub con/non con, which the author did mention in her triggers but definitely not the most graphic for me, as I said before I explored a lot of similar concepts when I was writing serial killer!JK

Am I in love with the book so far??? no, however I will still keep reading and maybe my opinion of the MC and MMC will change as the story continues, we shall see

[fuckyeah-jessicabiel]

Jessica Biel for CosmoGirl October/November 1999 by Jodi Bryson 

Find out why this 7th Heaven star is the coolest friend a girl could have!  

"I'm definitely weird," Jessica Biel confesses as she digs  through the knick-knacks in her bedroom.   "I have some really wild  stuff."  She points out her collection of vintage sunglasses, a bunch of  so-bright-they're-blinding wigs, dozens of phone numbers taped to the  wall, and her favorite Abercrombie & Fitch ad.  "He is the hottest  Abercrombie model ever," she says.  

The 17 year old star of 7th Heaven just finished her third season  on the show and aced her junior year of high school.  Now she's  flinging clothes around her bedroom to prep for a European vacation with  two of her closest friends.  "I want to go someplace I've never been  with people I really love hanging out with," she says.  "I want to see  some amazing things."  

Jessie has that I'll-try-anything-once outlook down pat.  She  started her career as a model, but at 14 decided to give acting a whirl.   Like in a Hollywood fairy tale, she flew to L.A. and had just a few  auditions before scoring the primo role of Mary Camden.  

Jessie works on 7th Heaven six days a week, nine months a year.   But as soon as she steps off the set, straight-arrow Mary vanishes and  the real Jessie charms everyone around her with warp-speed chitchat  about her big plans for the future (a backpacking trip with her best  friend, college, and maybe a second career as a photographer).  Clearly,  Jessie is ready to take on the world.  First stop, Europe!  

The Big Trip 

"I have no idea what to expect," Jessie says of her European  vacation, "but I just can't wait to eat that good food!"  Is she worried  about travelling to strange countries where she doesn't know a soul?   "No, I'm very excited.  My mom has a checklist of things for me to do  before I go:  Make copies of my passport, driver's license, and credit  cards; pack these things close to my body but separate from my wallet.   My mother has planed it all out -- I just gotta do it."  

Jessie makes a surprisingly small pile of clothes at the bottom  of her bed, then crams it into a backpack.  "I'm honestly taking one  pair of pants, a T-shirt, a couple pairs of shorts, a few tank tops, a  sweatshirt, a bathing suit, and two pairs of underwear that I'll keep  throwing in the sink.  My camera is the most important thing."  

In addition to taking tons of snaps, Jessie has dreamed up the  coolest way to keep track of her European adventures.  "Instead of a  private diary, I'm going to take a big book, like a communal journal,  and anyone can write in it," she says.  "If someone says, 'Can I see  your journal and write a little entry?' that's cool.  It will be nice to  look back and read what we all did and what we felt together."  Bon  voyage!  

Best Friends  

Her travelling companions are her friends Shane Nelson and Light  Dreamer Eternity.  "Light rocks so hard," Jessie says.  And even though  she lives in L.A. now, Jessie is still supertight with her best friend  from her hometown of Boulder, Colorado, who's also named Jessie.  "I  have pictures of Jessie and me stuck all over my room," she says.   What's her secret for maintaining such strong friendships?  "There's  never the silent treatment," Jessie explains. "If I was in a fight with a  friend, I would just call and be like, What is the deal?  What did I  do?  What do we need to talk about?  How can we get it over with?"   Jessie's the kind of friend who wouldn't let you stay mad at her.  

A Special Guy  

Will her absence make anyone's heart grow fonder?  Jessie let it  slip that she has a long-distance boyfriend, but then she wouldn't spill  a single detail! (And believe us, we begged!)   But she did share her  sure-fire hook-up advice.  "I'm pretty forward with guys," she says.   "I'll just walk up to somebody and I'll be really blunt and say, 'What a  great-looking person you are!  Have an awesome day.'"   Does that  really work?  "Well, I don't say that to a guy because I want him to be  my boyfriend," she says.  "I just want to tell him."   What guy could  resist?  

Prom Night  

Unfortunately, Jessie didn't get to take her secret boyfriend to  her junior prom.  "I promised Beverley Mitchell [who plays her younger  sister Lucy on 7th Heaven] that I'd go to her friend's prom.  And she  made me promise that I wouldn't back out.  I found out a week later that  my prom was the exact same day!  So I missed my prom to go to another  prom with this kid who didn't have a date," she says.  She didn't skimp  on glamour for her first prom experience: She wore an elegant white  cami-and-skirt combo with superhigh-heeled sandals.  "It turned out that  we had a good time, but Bev totally owes me!"  

Bad Behavior  

Jessie doesn't always play it so straight and narrow.  There's a  sneaky story about the pink flamingo hanging from her bedroom ceiling.  

"We had just sold our house in Boulder, Colorado, and I loved  that house," she says.  "I wanted to see it one more time.   When my  best friend Jessie and I drove up to it, my eyes welled up -- there was a  pink flamingo sticking out of my front yard!  It was the chessiest  thing I'd ever seen.  I was not happy with that flamingo.  I thought,  This has to go.  So I ran and ripped it out of the ground.  I busted to  the car and yelled, 'Go, Jessie, go!' and we just took off.  I pulled  out the stick and put the flamingo in my suitcase, and took it home with  me," she says.  "I don't think the family even knew it was missing."  Um, Jessie...they do now.  

BRIGHT FUTURE  

Even though Jessie's a totally fearless adventurer, she still  gets homesick for Boulder.  "I miss the people, I miss the mountains.   It is so laid-back there," she explains.   Does she ever see herself  going back to settle down in the Rocky Mountain foothills?  "I have one  more year of high school, which seems like it's going to take forever --  and then I'm on my own!  I can be wherever I want to be!"   Look out  world -- here she comes!"  

[oh-cosmia]

27 & 30 for the writing asks!

ohoho!

27. my favorite part of the writing process?

hmm thats hard. i think when im at the stage of proofreading i can share it with my friends/beta readers is my favorite. like for one having other eyes on the work helps clear my head and decide how to edit it more definitively, but also bc getting people’s reactions to certain plot beats helps me adjust the pacing for best impact. also this is a cheating answer bc its not technically writing but i love illustrating my stories, many of the illustrations for my fics are done in a happy fugue state (ie, all six pics for chapters 9-10 of db were drawn in the span of three days)

30. share a fic i’m proud of

…i feel like this is such an obvious answer and im sure most ppl following me already know abt it, and for the record im proud of all my fics, but devotion breaks through the land of roots is my baby…

i always wanted to write a super mysterious and somber psychological horror and this is my first try… plus it combines a lot of personal interests and strong emotions i had/still have about book 4 and rymin… have i ever said that the reason i wrote this premise was because around summer 2021 a lot of people made AUs where ryan died and min was corrupted and it made me so sad i wanted to flesh out an idea where that didnt have to be the end of the story and they could earn a happy ending

im really bad at catching up on all the comments readers have left but it makes me so happy that so many people love the story too or even cried over it, and thats a really rewarding and special feeling for any writer

[alexbutrandomthoughts]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

Boy oh boy where do i even start. Honestly it's always hard to pin down my favorite characters across all the fandoms cuz I've consumed a LOT of media,but I'll try to name the current ones (warning, i am such a basic bitch this list is gonna predictable afffff. Probably.)

10. Ai Hoshino (Oshi no ko)

Ngl if you ignore most of the weird shit that happens in oshi no ko, it is such a goddamn captivating story, Ai in particular. Idk i guess i really like the idea of this "ultimate idol" who is a pathological liar (due to honestly unfortunately circumstances) having to maintain this picture perfect image, to the point where people don't even perceived her as a real person. And it's really tragic considering all she ever wanted to is to actually say "i love you" and mean it for once.

9. Killua Zoldyck (Hunter×Hunter)

Was he start of my obsession with white haired characters? Nah, but he definitely contributed. Honestly, sassy brat with a soft spot that can absolutely fuck shit up? Yeah there was no way i wouldn't have been obsessed with Killua the second he got introduced. Honestly i like Gon almost as much, but i prefer moodie baddies to sunshine characters. I would genuinely dedicate another 10 hours minimum to talk about him, but i don't think ppl will care enough to read so yeeah

8. Sunset Shimmer (MLP)

I wasn't really in the mlp fandom, so i have no idea how Sunset was perceived initially (i would assume negatively, but then again idk) so i am going off of the fact my lil sisters used to haTE on her in the first movie, but MAAAAAN I LIKED HER BITCHY SELF EVEN BACK THEN. The former star pupil of princess Celestia???? That left to another world cuz of her own hubris???? AND SHE'S PUNK ROCK???? I mean she got redeemed and joined the main six and all, but overall, probably my favorite mlp character (still mourn the bitchy attitude tho, in that regard i prefer Starlight but i digress)

7. Sans Undertale

I mean. Yeah. I already said I'm basic as fuck but like. At least i don't wanna fuck him. Anywaaay, i guess it's the air of mystery to this seemingly chill guy, who just hangs around and tells bad jokes and somehow aware of the timelines more than the rest, probably related to Gaster in some way, and maybe he's not even a monster cuz monsters don't bleed and he fucking does, what does this all mean TOBY FOX I NEED ANSWERS- and he has arguably the best fight in the entire game, so yknow. Cool guy

6. Gwen Stacy (Spiderverse)

I liked her in "In to the Spiderverse" but i absolutely loved her in ATSV. Her struggles and mistakes felt so real and I'm so glad they decide to focus on her this film (the opening sequence dead ass my favorite scene in the whole movie) and explore her backstory with Peter's death and her father, it's just adding the depth to a character that was already great just UGH chef's kiss

5. Tooru Oikawa (Haikyuu)

God he has such a slappable face, i love him. I knew from the second when the fangirls screamed, i would either hate him or love him. Every scene he was in, he served (pun intended), he slayed and made me cry. I know decent junk of the fandom are avid Oikawa haters but they can honestly suck my dic-

Anyway yeah he is my boy

4. Osamu Dazai (Bungoe Stray Dogs)

Goofy ass detective with a dark past, homosexual rival and who's also a suicidal maniac? Yeah this was tailor made for me. Can you tell i have a type because i definitely do. I just really like mfkas with slappable faces. I am a sucker for redeemed bad guys, who are now try to be good cuz 💫reasons💫. AND i am also weak for mentor apprentice trops (Atsushi/Dazai shippers back off, i bite and definitely have rabies)

3. Satoru Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Speaking of my obsession with white haired guys. Yeah, I'm not sure what can i even say that haven't been said abt this guy and reasons to love him (fuck u gege) honestly will i ever stop loving side characters who are often silly mentor figures, with lots of baggage, a gay rival and too much angst? I can only say one thing.

Nah I'd win

2. Maomao (The Apothecary diaries)

BSODGWOWBSHSOSNS9WHSOSBISGWJWVSVDIWJWJEJIEHEIEHJEBEIS. Ahem, okay so hands down my favorite female protagonist of all time. God she is just perfect. Istg all u people who never watched Apothecary diaries I BEG U TO WATCH IT PLSSSS IT'S SO GOOD. Even if you don't watch anime, i promise you this show is absolutely worth the time. Maomao is what happens when you write a good no, GREAT female character without the whole anime bs. Like???? She has her own strength and weaknesses and she doesn't need to be physically strong (full offense, marvel) or be "not like the other girls" to be great.

1. Kaveh (Genshin impact)

So uhhhh, you can really blame Will Stetson for this one. I genuinely couldn't have cared less about genshin or this random blond if it wasn't for "Writing on the Wall". It started with a banger ass song, and ended with arguably my favorite character in all of media ever. I think one of my favorite things abt Kaveh, is that compared to some of the other characters in genshin, he's really just a guy. Like bro missed the entire archon quest, mfka was just minding his own business. He is tortured architect and honestly bro has taken so many Ls in life it's kinda crazy. And well the fact that he has "a roommate" just adds more to him. Gay rival and all

Aaaaand that's 10 characters. Honestly i wouldn't call it my top 10 favorite of all time. I probably forgot some of the characters that i used to be obsessed with at some point. I just picked the ones that came first to mind :3

[maddiesbookshelves]

Six Crimson Cranes (#1&2) by Elizabeth Lim (February 2023)

Shiori, the only princess of Kiata, has a secret. Forbidden magic runs through her veins. Normally she conceals it well, but on the morning of her betrothal ceremony, Shiori loses control. At first, her mistake seems like a stroke of luck, forestalling the wedding she never wanted, but it also catches the attention of Raikama, her stepmother. Raikama has dark magic of her own, and she banishes the young princess, turning her brothers into cranes, and warning Shiori that she must speak of it to no one: for with every word that escapes her lips, one of her brothers will die. Penniless, voiceless, and alone, Shiori searches for her brothers, and, on her journey, uncovers a conspiracy to overtake the throne—a conspiracy more twisted and deceitful, more cunning and complex, than even Raikama's betrayal. Only Shiori can set the kingdom to rights, but to do so she must place her trust in the very boy she fought so hard not to marry. And she must embrace the magic she's been taught all her life to contain—no matter what it costs her.

Would I recommend it to anyone? Definitely, at least for the first book. The second I'd only recommend if you're particularly excited at the idea of a sequel. But if, like me, you were kinda disappointed to know there was one, then don't read it.

Level of (dis)satisfaction based on the summary and my expectations? The first book exceeded all of my expectations and the second ran them over with a 5 tons semi and set them on fire. In a bad way. I was not pleased by that sequel.

My thoughts on it? Six Crimson Cranes was a great story with amazing worldbuilding (like Lim's other series, The Blood of Stars) and compelling characters. The romance was actually very cute and 90% of that was thanks to Takkan (Best Boi of 2k23 probably). This is also the only story where the "evil stepmother" trope was actually done well.

However. What stopped me from giving it 5 stars. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN A STANDALONE. (no spoiler mini-rant)

The Dragon's Promise was an unnecessary sequel could have just, not existed with very minor chanches to the ending of SCC. As such, it was a very disappointing read that kinda tainted my experience with its prequel. I'm not sure I'll ever trust Elizabeth Lim to write duologies again.

LIGHT SPOILERS BELOW FOR SIX CRIMSON CRANES AND THE DRAGON'S PROMISE YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

30% of the sequel was useless. The whole part with the dragons served no purpose to the plot, we just met one character who is... more or less useful later on? Honestly, I felt like he was just there for fan service since he's the love interest in The Blood of Stars. Shiori, our heroine, is strung along from dangerous situation to dangerous situation, which aren't really useful and actually have the opposite effect than the one intended: I was bored and found the book too long. The villain did not mesure up so it didn't help with my boredom (I think it was another instance of fan service, which is starting to make me think that Elizabeth Lim doesn't know how innovate).

And apparently, Elizabeth Lim doesn't know how to end a series with anything other than a deus ex machina, since she did it for Unravel the Dusk and The Dragon's Promise. When I read the last 10 pages, I literally burst into laughter because of the sheer ridiculousness that came out of nowhere.

Really, Six Crimson Cranes should have been a standalone. It could have been 100% possible by changing a few details at the end, and it would have been way more satisfying than this sequel that was frankly meh in my opinion.

I have thus decided to pretend this sequel does not exist.

French version under the cut

Une magie ancestrale et interdite coule dans les veines de Shiori, la plus jeune des sept enfants de l’empereur de Kiata.

Lorsqu’elle découvre que sa belle-mère, Raikama, la Reine sans nom, possède sa propre magie noire, cette dernière lui lance un sortilège : elle transforme ses six frères en grues et l’avertit que pour chaque mot qu’elle prononcera, l’un de ses frères mourra.

Exilée et sans voix, Shiori va devoir se battre pour briser le sort et sauver son royaume d’une terrible conspiration. Pour cela, elle pourra peut... 

Est-ce que tu le conseillerais à quelqu’un ? Totalement, du moins le premier livre. Je recommanderais le deuxième à quelqu'un particulièrement heureux.se d'apprendre qu'il y a une suite. Mais si, comme pour moi, l'idée d'une suite a été décevante, alors je le recommanderais pas.

Niveau de déception/satisfaction par rapport au résumé et tes attentes ? Le premier livre a dépassé mes attentes et de loin, et le deuxième les a écrasées avec un 5 tonnes avant de leur mettre le feu. D'une manière négative. Je n'ai pas été ravie par cette suite.

Avis sans spoiler ? Six Crimson Cranes était une histoire géniale avec un excellent worldbuilding (comme l'autre série d'Elizabeth Lim, The Blood of Stars) et des personnages intérerssants. L'histoire d'amour était mignonne à 90% grâce à Takkan (Best Boi de 2k23, probablement). C'est aussi la seule histoire où le cliché de la méchante belle-mère est bien fait.

Mais. Ce qui m'a empêché de lui donner 5 étoiles. ÇA AURAIT DÛ S'ARRÊTER LÀ. (mini-rant sans spoilers)

The Dragon's Promise était une suite inutile qui aurait pu juste, ne pas exister en apportant de légères modifications à la fin de SCC. En l'état, c'était une lecture très décevante qui a un peu terni mon expérience avec son prequel. Je suis pas sûre de pouvoir refaire confiance à Elizabeth Lim pour écrire une autre duologie.

LÉGERS SPOILERS POUR SIX CRIMSON CRANES ET THE DRAGON'S PROMISE, VOUS AVEZ ÉTÉ PRÉVENU.ES.

30% de ce livre n’a servi à rien. Toute la partie avec les dragons n’a pas du tout servi à l’avancement de l’histoire, on a juste rencontré un personnage qui par la suite est… plus ou moins utile ? Honnêtement j’ai l’impression qu’il était là juste pour le fan service vu que c’est le love interest dans The Blood of Stars. Shiori, notre héroïne, se fait trimballer de situation dangereuse en situation dangereuse sans que ce soit très utile, ce qui a finit par avoir l'effet inverse de celui recherché : je me suis ennuyée et j'ai trouvé le livre trop long. Le méchant n’est pas du tout à la hauteur donc ça n'a pas aidé mon ennui (je pense que c'était encore un coup de fan service, ce qui commence à me faire penser qu'Elizabeth Lim ne sait pas se renouveler).

Et visiblement Elizabeth Lim ne sait pas finir ses séries autrement qu’avec un deus ex machina, vu qu'elle l'a fait pour Unravel the Dusk et The Dragon's Promise. Quand j’ai lu les 10 dernières pages j’ai littéralement éclaté de rire tellement c'était rudicule et inattendu.

Vraiment, Six Crimson Cranes aurait dû être un roman seul. En changeant quelques détails de la fin, ça aurait été largement faisable et beaucoup plus satisfaisant que ce deuxième tome que j’ai trouvé franchement meh.

J’ai donc décidé de prétendre que cette suite n’existe pas.

[liptonrm]

The summer got away from me and then I went camping for a couple days and now WoT season two is only, like, a day away! And I've still got 3 more episodes to rewatch!

Anyway, time to pop some bottles because it's episode six and Moiraine x Siuan is about to go canon.

Watching Siuan being forced to leave her father is heartbreaking.

There was an interesting meta about patriarchy and patriarchal violence in the Wheel of Time books and, while so many leaders are world leaders are women and the Aes Sedai, the most powerful people in that world, are all women, there's still a bunch of in-world gendered stereotypes and violence that seem to stem more from our world's sensibilities than that world's. Which, yes, I'm sure a bunch of it did come down to some of RJ's unconscious biases.

BUT the show is doing an interesting job of highlighting the push-pull of power and trust. In the last episode we had Liandrin talking about how little girls are still hurt, even though the Aes Sedai exist, like one doesn't negate the other. Also in that episode we had the Whitecloaks, through Eamon Valda, talking about how no one with that amount of power can be trusted, regardless of whether the power is corrupted or not.

Now we see tiny little Siuan being sent away, not because her father doesn't love and trust her, but because the people around her don't. If she's going to live, she has to leave. Which is just heartbreaking. No wonder so many Aes Sedai only trust their sisters in Saidar.

Practicing knots and practicing weaves. Basically the same thing, really.

He knows he'll never see his daughter again.

You ever think about how lucky we are that Rosamund Pike decided to champion this series? Because I do, every time I watch.

I want to think the costumers, productions designers, and VFX artists who made Tar Valon look so fucking cool.

Women in the Tower Guard is an excellent touch. Four for you, R2J2.

They're giving so much texture and depth to Logain. I love to see it.

Aaah, Liandrin grandstanding, throwing Moiraine under the bus. This scene is an excellent way to introduce Tower politics.

The Hall did not consent to be apart of Siuan and Moiraine's roleplay.

Though Liandrin's definitely enjoying it.

Oh man, it's the tea shop. Where's the meme, woman drinking tea, thinking about getting railed by Siuan Sanche.

Bless Rand's heart.

I'm really curious to see what the angle's gonna be re: Mat and the dagger in season two.

Moiraine really doesn't have the patience for Tower politics. I do not blame her.

Omg, I didn't remember that Maigan mentioned travelling to investigate the Seanchan. That's, ummmm, not a great idea.

Egwene is vicious and righteous. Perfection.

Plots within plots. Schemes within schemes.

Omg the way Moiraine smiles with Lan says "Giver her my love." She's so excited to see Siuan. 🥹🥰

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. 🍾🍾🎉

The both started wearing whte and now Siuan is wearing Tairen paisley and Moiraine is in a matching wrap. Excellent touch.

🐡

Nynaeve not bowing and the way Egwene looks at her lololol.

The way that Nynaeve is terrified and barely holding it together and Egwene is ready to fight the world. Everyone making this show understood the assignment.

What color is the stone in Siuan's ring? It wasn't blue, but I couldn't tell what color it was. Maybe gold?

Seriously, the Hall did not consent to your roleplay.

The way their fingers touch while Moriaine swears the oath. 😢😭

And the way Moiraine changes the oath. 1) She so dramatic I love her. 2) So smart to swear to Siuan specifically. 3) They're definitely married now.

They're all so happy to see each other! My babies.

I know that Mat doesn't go with them because reasons but, you know, I really don't blame him. Just cut loose from unspeakable horror to venture back into it? Yeah, hard pass.

I do wonder how Mat's story in the finale would've gone, as originally planned.

I do really like that Egwene is the first of the EF5 to step into the Ways. She is so brave.

[runninguplenorahills]

Hi!! I was wondering, if you could hang out with any Stranger Things character for a day who would it be and what would you do? I hope you have an awesome day!!!

Ohhh, thank you so much for this ask <3🌟

This is such a tricky question because:

Will

Will and I would probably paint together. It’d be all nice and quiet and relaxing because I literally cannot multitask hahah. I’m too distracted to talk. But we’d listen to music for sure! Anything Will likes because his taste in music is elite! And afterwards we’d tell each other more about our paintings, read comics, play a board game together and maybe also catch a movie.

Mike

Mike and I would definitely write something together! He loves writing fantastical dnd campaigns and I love to write silly fairytale parodies with my friends as the main characters so this is the perfect activity for us! We could maybe write two separate stories and read them to each other afterwards which will probably be hilarious! We’d have a sleepover so after our story writing session we would play super mario (I’m gonna lose so bad) together and watch Star Wars.

Dustin

Dustin and I would 100% go on a curiosity voyage together! We’d get hooked on a topic and race our bikes to the library to get all the books we need to learn absolutely everything about that topic! We’d also make a detour to the grocery store to buy anything nougat and then we’d literally spend the whole day researching stuff. As a reward for our hard work we’d go get ice cream afterwards.

Lucas

Lucas and I would without a doubt play basketball together! I always loved basketball and I’m pretty good at it too, still I wouldn’t stand a chance against Lucas hahaha. We’d also play different variations of the game and come up with our own games. Afterwards we’d go to the arcade together and basically spend all our money.

Max

Max and I would probably go to a skate park together. I’m really good on inline skates, good on roller skates and ok on the actual skateboard so I’d have some options to choose from haha. I’ll probably go with the inline skates. And we’d skate around Hawkins as if we’re going for a walk (only definitely faster) until we arrive at the skate park. Max would be doing some tricks while I’d almost die on the half pipe but yeah, it’ll be fun! And we can switch too so Max helps me with getting more confident on the skateboard and I help her with the inline skates. Afterwards we’d 100% have a sleepover together! Play boardgames, talk about comics and watch some movie that Max would never admit she likes.

El

El and I would have a self care day together. We’d make our hair, paint our nails, go shopping, pick out weird outfits for each other and have a blast bothering every other customer with being too loud, go get milkshakes, go get smoothies, go for a walk, rent a movie, eat triple decker eggo extravaganzas, watch tv, read magazines, take those quizzes in magazines, and that’d conclude the day.

I’m only putting the party as options for this one but even with only the six of them it’s difficult to decide!! I think I’ll choose Max or Mike though tbh!👀

[triviareads]

Releases on June 13th

Summary:

Madhuri Iyer doesn't believe in astrology. So when her mom reads her horoscope for the year and it predicts failure, she decides she will create a fake relationship on her own terms to disprove not only her prophecy, but also the Iyer family curse, where Iyer women always end up with the first man they get with. The guy she selects to fake-date her? Arjun Mehta, her best friend. Except, well, Arjun's been in love with her for years but she doesn't know that.

Some background:

Listen, I'm a pretty simple South Indian gal: if I see an author by the name of Ananya Devarajan, a heroine named Madhuri Iyer, and a cover with two dark-skinned Indian characters, I'm going to read that book pretty much regardless of the content. And when I found out this was Ananya's debut novel, and our cultural backgrounds were pretty similar, I knew I had to give this book a shot.

My review:

Before we get into the meat of the review, two language-related issues I want to note:

1. I have never heard Indian people refer to their elders by their last name. The book references Indian aunties by calling them "Auntie Iyer" or "Auntie Mehta", but that's not very accurate to the diaspora. We always use their first name, and then "auntie" or "uncle". So instead of "Auntie Iyer", the more accurate way to reference her would be "Kamala Auntie".

2. The Iyers are a Tamil family so I have no idea why Madhuri's mom is calling anyone "beta", which is a Hindi term of endearment, when the Tamil "kanna" exists.

Moving onto the review, this book has three plots: There is Madhuri and Arjun's "fake"-dating saga, Madhuri's struggle to accept her Indian side and the culture, and Arjun and his mother's estrangement. All of them were good individually, but it was a little difficult for me to follow along when the plots intertwined.

First, the fake dating plot. Madhuri creates a dating "contract" of sorts (or I guess, an experimental design) called the Kismat Experiment with the intent of breaking up with Arjun at the end of the school year on her own terms. Some things worked for me throughout the span of their relationship: It had its ups and downs, there was parental involvement which was pretty funny, and I did appreciate Arjun asking for time when Madhuri confesses her love for him at last, which he had every right to do. What worked less for me was the somewhat lacking chemistry between Madhuri and Arjun. It's tough because when it comes to friends-to-lovers as a trope, you have to navigate that slippery slope between not seeing your friend a viable love interest, and then suddenly seeing him as a love interest. Writing that transition in a believable way is hard to get right. Here, the author sort of leaned in on the familiar past when it came why Madhuri and Arjun liked each other (for example, Arjun affectionately remembers Madhuri as the girl who stole his heart when she stole a jalebi from him when they were six) but I couldn't really find much to read about what exactly changed for Madhuri when it came to how she viewed Arjun now, as a teenager.

A more minor note, but I think there could have been a *little* more physicality to Madhuri and Arjun's relationship, while still being within the bounds of how far YA typically goes. I liked him helping her put on her jhumka, so maybe more moments like that? That would have been great.

Apart from the relationship plot, a significant portion of the book was devoted to Madhuri's struggles with internalized racism. It's a product of the external racism that she faces in school and in her town, and I have to say, it was difficult to read such blatant hate spewing out of teenagers in our generation's mouths in 2023. But maybe that's just me speaking from a place of privilege, because as Madhuri herself points out, it would definitely have been easier for her if she was raised in a place like "Edison, New Jersey or Fremont, California" instead of her small mostly-white California town. A lot of this plot is shown through Madhuri's struggles with having to quit Bharatanatyam after getting bullied for it, and how she starts to enjoy it again, and eventually performs.

Something I'm glad the author points out is that our culture has become more "trendy" in recent years (especially when it comes to wellness) and it would be accurate to say certain parts of the culture are fetishized (she suggests Arjun is a victim of this) and appropriated, even as the diaspora continue to face racism.

The final portion of the plot was regarding Arjun's family situation. His mother is a divorcée, and Ananya definitely spoke to the cultural taboo that divorce continues to be within the Indian community. I'm not gonna lie, this aspect of the book was very difficult for me to read, especially because of how easily his mother neglected him and left him alone for long periods of time (like, months on end). I'm glad Arjun put boundaries for himself by the end of the book.

Overall:

I think this is a solid book, and very much on the sweet end of YA. My biggest critique is that I really wanted to read more about Arjun and Madhuri's relationship, and sometimes it felt like other side-plots got in the way of that (like, for example, the hospitalization plot).

That being said, this is another step forward for South Asian rep in literature, specifically South Indian rep, so I'm glad I got to read this book.

Thank you to Inkyard Press and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my review.