#i know the more you build up to understanding your symptoms and how they feel the more vulnerable you feel and the more scary it is

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Six

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

*I say it's an OC, it's just a name and third person POV. I use minor character descriptions because I don’t get on with writing vague reader inserts/YN for long-form, story heavy fics, but I will generally try to avoid including race and body type or really any physical descriptors. I’m always open to feedback on my writing, or how to be more inclusive.

WC: 15k

Chapter Warnings: believe it or not there's fluff in here. very very cute scenes I have to say. but obviously encompassed by angst. a fluff sandwich with angsty bread if you will. and the butter is nico's continuous pining. luke being the ultimate girls girl, wise beyond his years god bless him, the rest of the boys being soft, Nico's family being endearing, and then here we go!!! mentions of vomiting and food aversion, mentions of pregnancy & early pregnancy symptoms, I want to say there's mentions of drowning I remember thinking of the imagery and I can't remember how detailed I went with it sorry! it isn't actual drowning just like a metaphor of sorts. mentions of the birth control patch if you've ever had it you KNOW that needs a full trigger warning whoever came up with that deserves jail it's hell it's horror!! and mentions of poor parental relationships.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Five)

A/N: potentially fun fact the last scene in this chapter is maybe the second thing I ever wrote for this fic!! like as a concept/idea it was one of the earliest scenes in my head and it's one of my faves!! I've been dying to get to this part to flesh it out and figure out how to build to it and I'm really happy with how it turned out!! writing for families of real people is such an odd concept but I really like the differences in their parents lmao it's fun to write and compare the dynamics obviously it goes without saying I do not know these people lmao

I know the last chapter broke a couple hearts so I'll leave you guys to crack on! as always, never proofread, and as always, would love to hear your thoughts and opinions!!! all the love in my heart to anyone who messaged me this last week on anon or not or private or whatever it may be I appreciate you so much yous have been so so kind to me and it means the world 💖

Nico

If anyone were to ever ask Nico what his favourite trait of Poppy’s is, he knows for a fact he would not be able to narrow it down. She’s a culmination of all things good, has been from the day he met her, and even the things he shouldn’t like about her, he loves.

He shouldn’t like that she’s sarcastic, quick-witted - scarily so - and sometimes says things before she has the chance to properly think about them or any problems they may cause her. He remembers his first couple of years in Jersey, when he was one of the more junior players on the team, still considered new to the country and the culture, and a lot of people had underestimated how familiar he was speaking English despite his years playing in Canada and growing up learning multiple languages. They would often default to explaining things like he wouldn’t understand, like common terms or jokes told amongst a group - and he, being too polite to correct them, had always ended up feeling like an idiot for it. 

There had been one instance prepping for a media day, where he had only met Poppy once a week or so before, and she had been prepping him to be on camera, clipping his mic pack and checking the settings. 

One of the other media staff, a guy called Liam who was in his second year where Poppy was in her first and had been the one she had to initially shadow, had cracked some misogynistic joke to her about how she was messing around with controls she didn’t understand just to be able to stand closer to Nico, as if he wasn’t right there or couldn’t hear him - and then when he had seen Nico’s furrowed brow and downturned lips, had assumed he didn’t understand the joke because he hadn’t laughed.

“It’s because she thinks you’re hot!” The guy had obnoxiously enunciated every word, capturing the attention of some of the more senior assistants in the room who had rolled their eyes just as hard as Nico had.

“He’s from Europe, Liam, not Jupiter. You don’t have to speak to him like he’s some alien.” Poppy had shook her head, caring so little about the fact that Liam had seniority over her, fitting the pack into Nico’s back pocket without him even feeling it, “He understands your slimy little jokes, he just doesn’t find you funny. Nobody does.”

Nico shouldn’t have liked her speaking on his behalf as much as he did, coming to his defence with her sharp tongue and cold glare, but no one had ever picked up on how uncomfortable that kind of thing made him before. The stupid jokes and the belittling tone Liam had used toward him. Poppy saw through both.

And all of her good is even better.

Poppy is positive. He has never seen her leave a room without having caused at least one smile or laugh. She’s someone he’s seen most of the guys perk up around, seek her out for help or even mundane conversation just to lighten the load, and he knows he’ll never be able to keep track of all the times he’s gone to her for a pick me up over the years.

She’s generous. Generous with her time when it comes to her friends, always making sure to maintain plans even when she’s at her busiest. When it comes to her work, staying late to help out a colleague or finish a project so it isn’t left to the last minute. With her knowledge and experience, always there for new members of staff or additions to the team to show them all her favourite spots in the area and get them up to speed with their role.

She is patient - waits around for him when he gets stuck doing media, or held behind to see the physio, and she never complains. She’ll never watch an episode of a show they start together without him, despite the fact his schedule doesn’t often allow for him to stay up late catching up, and she doesn’t moan when she gets spoiled if it’s something that comes out weekly and ends up being a hot topic in the office, doesn’t even spoil it for him out of spite. She even pauses the tv as soon as she notices he’s fallen asleep, and she’ll busy herself doing something else until she feels like he’s rested enough to drive home. 

And, above all, she’s forgiving. If someone were to push for an answer, and they were to have done so before this whole mess happened, he probably would have said that was his favourite thing. It’s like her superpower - to be able to understand things from a different perspective without judgement or a major confrontation. It’s like her default process is to give people grace and make things easy, even if they aren’t entirely deserving of that way out.

She had done so with Nico, that night up on the roof. He hadn’t deserved her leniency, not entirely. He had expected he would have to grovel and beg, and he had been more than willing to do so, but she had wanted to avoid further heartache for the both of them, and had decided to move on. 

And sure, she hadn’t technically forgiven him at that point for the way he had treated her, not properly, but she had put him on the path to redemption, and had made it clear what was expected to make it all the way there.

She’d gone easy on him, in spite of how much he had hurt her. She’d been patient with his reasoning, generous with her time, and had done so with an affectionate glint in her eyes that even now makes his heart warm to think about.

It’s the same glint she’d had when she’d come out of that elevator and had seen him by her door. He’d watched her take him in, eyes cast over him in a concerned assessment, and he knew then that no matter what he said, no matter how he explained what had led him to leave her that morning without a word, she would have forgiven him.

She would have found some way to rationalise what he had done, and put how it made her feel to the side in the name of moving on.

And he had seen his life flash before his eyes. 

Nights of coming home to her, muscles weak, brain fogged, and she’d give him that same look and accept what little he had to offer her. She’d be patient, she’d be forgiving. She wouldn’t get mad that he didn’t have time to take her on dates or trips, wouldn’t bite back when he got snappy after a couple of successive losses and let his frustrations come between them, would resign herself to those little parts of him she’d get to herself in the summer, when he wasn’t training or travelling or trying to fit everyone else in, and would swallow down the longing for something more because she loved him. 

And he couldn’t subject her to that, no matter how much she tried to fight him on it, or tried to call him out. 

No matter how much he wanted to be better for her, how much he wanted her to change his mind, the one quality he loved so much was going to be their demise, and so he had relied on it to cling on to the one thing he can give her.

Friendship.

Even if she won’t accept it for a while. Even if she wants to tell him to leave, and to ignore his texts, and his calls, and his efforts to bump into her at work, she has to forgive him. It’s who she is. 

She’ll forgive him and they can be friends.

Eventually.

And so with the weight of her bracelet in his pocket the whole walk home that night, Nico had decided that he could take a leaf out of Poppy’s book. 

He could be patient while she came to terms with what he had done. He could be generous with the space she needed. He could be positive and push down the bubbling doubt that she’ll forgive him at all.

—

Space happens to be the one thing Nico struggles with the most when it comes to Poppy. Especially conceptualised in the way that it has become - because he can’t physically give her space, they work in the same building. They share the same friends, they end up in the same rooms, and his resolve is as weak as ever where she is concerned, especially when she’s so close, so his generosity ends up being the trait that wains first.

He will give it to himself, he has been trying. He hasn’t been texting her as much as he wants to, understanding that bombarding her with begging and pleading is not only pathetic, but could also be considered harassment. And that will do him no favours in trying to earn back her favour.

But the other night he had been up on the roof after a long day, the air cold but the evening nice, and as he looked out across the Hudson, he had remembered how Poppy had once said her favourite time of the day, and her favourite thing about where she lives, was getting to see the sunset. 

On the early winter evenings, when she’d not long gotten home from work, she liked looking out her window and basking in what she had called cotton candy skies. Swirls of pinks and greyish purples behind the rows of skyscrapers on the other side of the river, all of which reflected the lowering sun in a glimmering, golden glow. He had taken a picture and sent it straight over with the thought that she might be missing it, and he just wanted to let her know. 

Even avoiding him, even wanting space, he was hoping she would at least appreciate that.

The sentiment attached to the picture had read, Just in case you don’t catch this yourself. And as he periodically checked his phone for the rest of the night, he had realised she had probably turned her read receipts off.

At least she hadn’t blocked him.

Nico had, however, started to get creative when it came to work.

Unable to stifle the need to check up on her, or to make sure something happened to brighten her day, he had taken to recruiting the rest of the guys to help.

He should have known how easy it would be, his first enlistment being Jack, who he knew would visit Poppy often, anyway. Only, now he did so with a drink in hand. Peach iced tea if his trip to her office was anytime after lunch, and a hot chai with oat milk if it was before. Nico had initially suggested snacks, but Jack had ended up eating them, himself, which turned out to be useful when it came to bribing him for information.

According to Jack, she was doing okay. Cracking jokes, rolling her eyes at the stupid nicknames he would come up with, and overall she seemed like her normal self. No signs of insurmountable heartache - not Jack’s words, but his own deduction.

He had been surprised at the lack of questions from him, but Jack knows when not to push something, so maybe he had decided to go easy on Nico for now.

Timo had been making sure she was breaking for lunch, checking in every few days so it wasn’t obvious.

John and Bass had taken to calling dumb jokes out to her every time they saw her in the halls, just to make her crack.

Curtis and Dougie had signed themselves up for the mentoring sessions she had been chasing them for since the season had started.

She had been fine with everyone - she smiled, she laughed, she joked, she engaged in conversation - and it was like nothing had happened.

Only, when Nico had felt brave enough to attempt even just eye contact, she wouldn’t even look at him.

No matter how many of the guys reported back that she was doing fine, he could see it every time he looked at her. 

He could see it even when he wasn’t looking at her - that teary, pleading frown she had given him as she had tried to take his hand, the resigned acceptance he had seen when she’d monotonously told him that they had made a mistake, assuming she was mirroring his own sentiments, the tremble in her lip as she had waited for him to leave with her head down at the door.

He thinks about it more often than is healthy, in situations where his focus should really be elsewhere.

Like in the gym, arms shaking as he attempts to lift more than he has in a while, and Jonas who is spotting him has to intervene before he ends up getting crushed.

Like in training, adrenaline pumping as his mind races all over the place, weaving around the defensemen and making sloppy attempts to swipe the puck until he finds himself on the weaker side of a nasty check by Luke that he can’t even argue was unwarranted.

Or in important debriefs in the small team auditorium, where one of their associate coaches, Travis, is going over team strategy before they travel to play the Canes, and he really should be absorbing all the information for such a crucial game - the potential to build on their current 2 game winning streak theirs for the taking - but all he can think about is the looming distance between him and Poppy.

They’re going down to Tampa after, and then head straight into the All Stars break. He isn’t going to see her for almost 2 weeks. Isn’t going to be able to send anyone to check up on her - not without rousing suspicion at least.

He thinks having Bratter knock on her door at home might ring alarm bells.

The distracted glance Nico casts towards the creaking door of the auditorium as it opens is instinctual and fleeting, but all his senses go into high alert when he sees who comes through it. 

The guys have been right, for the most part.

She does look okay.

She looks put together - probably more than he has looked the last two weeks without her, having barely shaved and punishing himself with a borderline dangerous lack of rest - her smart casual attire is neat and co-ordinated, a buttoned up red cardigan and long, dark trousers, her hair up in a ponytail that sways with her movement, and the only indicator that she has any sort of discomfort is the slight purse of her lips where he can tell she’s chewing at the corner.

Travis has become background noise - whatever he’s saying Nico is sure he can catch up on another time - and all he can focus on is the way she watches the coach with genuine interest.

Poppy is the kind of person that gives anyone the time of day - makes them feel like whatever it is they’re saying is the most important thing in the world, and he yearns for a day where her attentions are directed his way again. 

“And Poppy is here from the Youth Foundation,” Her name is one way to get his focus back, Nico’s eyes having not left her figure since she snuck in, leaning beside the door with a binder in hand. He follows as she descends the few stairs to the bottom and moves beside Travis, holding the binder to her chest as she smiles to the rest of the guys. “They have a favour to ask of anyone with some free time that you’re willing to give in your week off, she’s more likely to convince any of you than I am so I’ll just hand straight over.”

“Thank you, Mr Green,” she flicks the binder open, and Nico finds himself holding his breath in anticipation of her looking up and accidentally meeting his eyes, even for a second. “I know you guys are well overdue some time off, and we’d never usually ask so close to the fact, but we have a clinic out in Garfield on the 29th, we’ve donated a bunch of equipment and have some money to donate for the programme they have, and we were supposed to have Patrik Elias out to present it to the kids up there but he’s been held back in Czechia and won’t make it.”

Nico fights the urge to do something stupid like shoot up and volunteer straight away - if not for the fact that he’s supposed to be giving her space and shouldn’t force himself into her good graces, then for the fact his parents will be back in town by then, and he has plans throughout the week with them. Him looking desperate is the least of his concerns.

“If any of you are gonna be around, it would just be for the afternoon, a couple pictures and maybe some skating with the kids. There’s also one of those huge fancy cheques if you’re into showboating,” she tries to sell it, and earns a few affectionate snickers, but Nico knows these guys - while they’re generous people, and he loves them all, and knows they all love her, they’re exhausted, and have been waiting too long for a week of reprieve. 

He kicks at the shin of whoever happens to be sat closest to him. Holtzy. Perfect. He knows he was planning to stay in Jersey. It earns him a glare, but it captures his attention enough so that Nico can level him with a stern look back. 

“If anyone wants to do it, just swing by my office-,”

“I’ll do it,” Alex raises his hand after rolling his eyes and acquiescing to his captain, faking a smile Poppy’s way.

“Oh,” she doesn’t mask the surprise on her face, her lips parting in shock and eyes rounding in disbelief. She looks to Travis who just gives an approving nod in response. 

And, only because he snickers in amusement, Nico kicks Dawson, too. He hasn’t sent him Poppy’s way yet, he’s overdue his turn, and it’s his own fault for laughing at Holtzy’s misfortune. 

“Me too,” Dawson sighs, raising his hand as well and kicking back at Alex when he laughs in turn at him. 

“That was easier than I thought, thank you guys, the kids will be over the moon with the two of you!”

Nico wishes he was the recipient of the smile she gives the both of them. It’s the biggest smile he’s seen her wear in recent weeks, and he can see the light reflect in sparkles in her eyes from all the way across the room. 

That should hold him off for a bit - that little bit of warmth she gives. And sure, it isn’t directed his way, but he can settle with the fact that he’s technically the cause of it. Maybe when he’s down in Raleigh or Tampa he’ll see that smile instead of the other look etched into his recent memory.

“That’s all I’ve got, I’ll leave you guys to your meeting, thanks again!”

He watches her the whole way out, until the door swings closed behind her retreating figure, and his mind races with a surge of misplaced adrenaline for the rest of the debrief.

That’s most of the guys checked off his list, now.

Dawson and Alex are going to help her out with the hockey clinic, John and Nate have been making their way through the worlds worst dad jokes for the past two weeks to relay back to her, Jack is on drink duties, Timo on lunch, Curtis and Brendan are hopefully slowly thawing the ice with cute pictures of their kids. Jonas, Dougie, Haula, Dawsy, Pally - majority of the team have been recruited on his mission to keep her spirits up. Those who haven’t yet had a task are more than willing to play along.

All except one.

His attention drifts over to a mop of curly hair a few rows down, slumped in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest, and though he can’t see his face from where he’s sat, Nico imagines it bears the same angered frown it had when he’d checked him on the ice, earlier. 

Luke is pissed, even as distracted as Nico has been lately, that much is obvious, and he needs to get him on side if he has a chance of ever fixing things with Poppy.

He had underestimated their relationship, when he’d given it some thought, before. When they had been talking about Poppy that one time on the flight back from the Capitals game, and Luke had suggested she had deeper feelings than Nico had ever previously considered.

He had assumed because he’s never seen them together much, that they weren’t as close as Poppy and Jack seem to be, but he knows now he was wrong. 

Luke can be reserved to most, cast in the ever present shadow of his older brothers and held to unfair standards, but he is quietly observant, Nico has noticed, and he clearly sees more of Poppy than he lets on.

He knows Luke is protective over her, that he cares more than he’ll probably ever say.

He hadn’t overshared something she wouldn’t have been comfortable with when they’d had that initial conversation about him and Poppy pretending not to be into each other. He had told Nico to talk to her, had called him out on suppressing his feelings for her and pushed him to take action.

And when he had encountered Nico with Talia in the elevator back in their apartment building, he had been disappointed. 

Jack had been awkward, and evasive, but Luke had a clenched jaw and a purposely avoidant gaze. 

He thinks he gets it.

Luke had encouraged Nico to pursue Poppy, and in his pursuit, Nico had ended up hurting her.

As much as he definitely blames his captain, Luke also blames himself, and Nico of all people knows how frustrating that can be. 

When Travis calls time on the meeting, and the group disperse, Nico rushes down the steps as the boys flood out of the room and catches up to Luke with hastened steps.

“I need to talk to you,” Nico falls in line beside him, a hand clapped authoritatively on his upper back to guide him off his path and toward the locker rooms.

“Can it wait? I’m hungry,” Luke huffs, trying to resist the rerouting but falling victim to one of Nico’s infamous glares.

“Don’t make me pull rank,” he sighs as he yanks the heavy door open, his free hand gesturing for him to enter while the one on his back gives a light shove, “In.”

“Look, I’m sorry for the check earlier, it was a dick move, I didn’t mean it,” Luke starts as Nico follows him into the otherwise empty room, closing the door behind him and gesturing for Luke to take a seat.

“Come on, Luke, I’m not an idiot,” Nico scoffs, “You’re pissed at me. You have been since you saw me with Talia back in our building, but you’ve got the wrong idea,”

“Your personal life is none of my business,” Luke says like it’s something he’s been taught, something he’s rehearsed, and there isn’t a doubt in Nico’s mind that he and Poppy have been the topic of conversation in the Hughes household since the day he had run into them, maybe even before. Jack has been avoiding the topic like he’d never seen it happen, giving Nico a breather where he had initially thought he would call him out - but it’s becoming increasingly clear that Luke is the actual confrontational one of the two of them.

“If you have something to say to me, I’d rather you just come out with it than check me in a practice game, Hughes.” Nico sighs, leaning against the door to block Luke’s path out and staring him down until he relents. He has never thought he would be thankful for someone checking him before, especially not in a practice game, but the minor hit has given him the perfect opportunity to clear the air.

“Fine. I don’t like how you treated Poppy,” he says, plainly, “She’s supposed to be your friend, you don’t do that to someone you care about.”

“Carry on.” Nico thinks a part of him is urging Luke to argue because Poppy won’t, and he needs to have someone he can vent to - even if it’s someone who won’t side with him. He probably prefers it that way, ever the glutton for punishment.

“If you didn’t like her the same way, you shouldn’t have led her on, she deserves better than that.”

“I agree.”

“And she-,” his eyes narrow, “You agree?”

“I didn’t break things off because I don’t like her the same way, I did it because I do,”

“I hope you understand how stupid that sounds.” Luke rolls his eyes as he throws himself into his cubby, running a hand through his curls in frustration.

“I know it might not make sense, but I’m trying to do what’s right. She deserves someone who can give her one hundred percent of themselves, who isn’t away all the time and isn’t constantly stressed out of their mind or too tired to function.” He finds himself relaying Talia’s exact sentiments, and the memory of that particular conversation makes his stomach churn. 

“I care about her too much to end up being the guy who can’t make her happy. I know you of all people understand that to some extent, Luke.” It’s one of the few flaws of making it to the elite level of their sport - the lack of balance between their career and their personal entanglements. They’ve both spent their lives wanting nothing but to win and succeed, and it’s always going to be difficult to come to terms with, but the cold, hard truth is that they can’t have everything without paying the price for it. Something will have to give, and it would be an injustice for that something to be Poppy. “It wouldn’t be fair to her to start something that I can’t put my all into. So, I agree, she deserves better.”

“You know what else she deserves, Nico?” Luke stands from his point on the bench, the inch between them seeming more than it really is when he’s dishing out home truths like punches to the gut. “She deserves to make her own decisions. She deserves for you to be honest with her and not let your ego get in the way of what she might want.”

There it is again. Luke letting on that he knows something he doesn’t about Poppy. Unease spreads throughout his every nerve ending.

He’s always been the one who knows Poppy. Who understands her. Who gets how she thinks and grasps how she feels. 

Luke might think he does, but he doesn’t. Not like Nico.

Nico, who can’t quite fathom how he’s ended up being schooled on how to treat a woman by a 20 year old. By Luke. 

“It isn’t ego,” he mutters in denial, but it’s no use. Luke is scarily prompt to retort - especially when it comes to defending Poppy, Nico knows by now. It would be endearing if it didn’t frustrate him to no end.

“Really? ‘Cause it sounds to me like you’re so afraid to fail with her that you won’t even try.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.” He knows again that’s a pathetic excuse. Poppy had called him out on it, herself. But surely the hurt now is nothing in comparison to the hurt that could be. 

The hurt that comes with the demise of an actual relationship. Of building and building and building something, putting in years of tiresome efforts only for it to be demolished just as the final brick is laid. Of the ever-growing love between the two of them wilting into something sad and lifeless.

He can take the silent treatment. He can take the avoidance.

He won’t be able to handle that.

“How’s that going for you?” 

Luke isn’t trying to be mean, he knows that, but it doesn’t lessen the sharpness of his words - the truth digging into the most sensitive parts of Nico’s skin so deep that he feels like he’s bleeding out.

Nico sits down himself, no longer blocking the exit and allowing for Luke to leave of his own accord - only, the younger boy sits beside him, heaving out a prologued sigh and giving his captain a friendly pat on his leg. 

“Just give her time, she’ll come around, and then the two of you can talk. And when you do, you owe it to her to be open about what you both want. If you can promise me you won’t do anything else to hurt her, I’ll promise you to stop checking you in practice.”

“Sounds fair,” Nico agrees, mustering up a weak smile to give to the younger defensemen before Luke stands up. “Sorry for cornering you.”

“You’re fine, I was being an idiot.” Luke shrugs, making his way over to the door, and only because he clearly can’t help himself, he stops before leaving. “You see how easy that was to admit?”

Nico usually has better aim, and he blames Luke’s speedy departure for the way the pad he throws hits the wall with a soft whack.

Frustration is a feeling Nico doesn’t think he has ever been as familiar with as he has been lately. 

He’s frustrated as a player - the team unable to keep a winning streak to save their lives, having lost both of their games on the road last week and the mentality of the locker room dwindling with every week that passes that they don’t keep their momentum going.

Frustrated as a captain, specifically for the teammates they keep dropping to injury. Jack, Timo, Eric, Pally all dipping in and out with scratches, the roster dwindling with every passing game.

Frustrated as a friend, guilt building every time he thinks about Jack becoming more reserved in the days leading up to the All Star break, his shoulder putting him out of contention to play and the team having to send Jesper as their representative in his place. 

And, it goes without saying, frustrated when it comes to Poppy - who he had hoped would be in attendance when he had elected himself to take Jesper’s place at the signing and Q&A session he had scheduled at the end of the week. When he had come all the way out to the Rock and sought her out in the Foundation offices after volunteering, he had found out she had been off sick since that day in the auditorium, so his frustrations had crescendoed to an all time high. 

Even his parents being back in town hasn’t helped - his mother more observant than he likes to think, and she has been pecking away at any attempts of a cool exterior with more questions than he thinks he’s going to be on the receiving end of at this Q&A.

Nico has never been one to complain about any kind of community event, but the thought of having to spend all day plastering on a fake smile and pretending he isn’t at his boiling point is proving to be difficult.

So, when Jessica, the media admin who had been debriefing him on what was going to be posted on the team socials, had finally finished and had left to liaise with one of her colleagues, he had sent his mother, Katja, away to grab him a drink before the signing started. 

He just needs a moment of quiet. Where he can self-level the anxiety that is currently crushing him like a bug, take some deep breaths, and mentally prepare for the overwhelming social interactions he is about to endure. 

He wishes Poppy could be there.

He had tried texting her, just to check on her, but again, she hadn’t replied, and the thoughts have been swirling into something ugly within him the longer he has gone not knowing where or how she is.

Is she actually even sick, or is this just another attempt to stay out of his way?

The breathing clearly isn’t working, he thinks. Maybe walking might help.

Or maybe walking straight into the front of the girl who is the cause of all his frustrations might help.

As soon as he sees her, he feels guilt prick at his nerves like continuous, thick needles pushing into the flesh.

When he thinks back on the weeks before, he doesn’t entirely know if he had wanted her to look worse for wear, but as he takes her in now, he realises he hadn’t.

This is the furthest thing from what he had wanted for her.

Poppy stands before him a paler version of herself - eyes sunken, lips chapped, a slight sheen to her forehead that has caused the baby hairs around there to curl up and stick to her skin. 

Her boss Elaine had said she was sick and he had selfishly spiralled into the assumption it was just another attempt to avoid any contact him, but now his chest feels heavy with a mixture of shame and worry.

She takes a moment too long to gather herself after their initial collision, and his words feel heavy in his mouth as he asks, “Are you okay?”

“What are you doing here?” Her voice is hoarse, and the way she blinks up at him is slow and fatigued. 

“What are you doing here? You don’t look like you should be working.”

“I’m fine.” She definitely doesn’t sound fine. “Where’s Jesper?

“Bratter went to Toronto to take Jack’s place in the All Stars, they didn’t tell you?” It hadn’t been a last minute decision, so he isn’t sure how she wouldn’t know already.

“Oh,” she frowns, and if he wasn’t so worried, he’d find it cute how she looks like she’s trying to recall a memory where that information had been relayed to her. “Yeah, I think they did. They didn’t tell me who’s replacing him, though.”

“That would be me.” He doesn’t point out that it should be obvious.

“That seems like overkill.” There’s a hint of familiarity that he feels at the quip, and Nico doesn’t know if she’s trying to crack a joke or trying to be rude - he doesn’t care, either way. When he notices her squinting against the light, he subtly shifts until she’s no longer facing it directly.

“I volunteered.” He admits, and he watches as realisation sinks in. He volunteered just to be near her, and if she calls him out on it, he’s in no fit state to deny it. Of course he did, she has barely spoken to him in almost 4 weeks, and if he’s being honest with himself, he’s losing his mind a little. “I was hoping we could talk after,”

“Nico,” she sighs, touching her palm to her temple and seemingly applying pressure, pinching her eyes shut as she tries to breathe through a wave of what looks like disorientation, “I really can’t deal with this today,”

“I miss you, Poppy,” he hums, and he knows it’s an asshole move, to take advantage of the current situation, of her being sick and having lowered her defences, but he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t take the opportunity to touch her. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, strokes a thumb softly at her cheek, and tries not to think too much about the way she seems to lean into it. “I’m worried about you.”

“You’re supposed to be giving me space.” She sounds defeated, and there’s a selfish part of him that hopes she is - that she is relenting to his advances and giving in - but he knows Poppy too well to assume it’s going to be that easy.

He doesn’t even like to think about how much he has hurt her. When images of that evening flash through his memory - when he closes his eyes and sees her teary ones looking back at him, can hear how she’d fought for him to listen, to figure things out together - his chest aches in a way he doesn’t think it has before. It’s relentless, and excruciating, and he hasn’t yet found a coping mechanism that gets rid of it.

Except for seeing her. When he sees her, it lessens. When he hears her laugh from around a corner, or spots her in the halls at The Rock, talking with her co-workers or perusing one of the vending machines, he can pretend he’s okay. He can pretend that they’re just not talking because they’re both busy - not because he monumentally messed everything up with her.

And now, talking directly to her, touching her, seeing her up close - despite the difference in her usually bright complexion - he can convince himself of the same. Things are okay. They’re okay.

“I also said I still wanted to be friends.” He tries, his hand still cupping the side of her face before she shakes him off.

“Except that we’re only friends when it suits you.” She accuses with a frown, a little energy seeming to flood back into her system. “And when it doesn’t, you just toss me off to the side like I mean nothing to you.”

“That’s not true, I-,”

“I really don’t feel well enough to be having this conversation right now.”

“Then when? Every time I see you, you can’t get away fast enough. We work together, we have to see each other, you can’t avoid me forever.” He knows he doesn’t deserve to rush her. He knows he has no right to be making any kind of demands, and that the situation they’re in is entirely his doing, but he can’t help himself.

He’s frustrated.

He’s desperate. 

He had thought he could give her the patience she deserves - the space she needs - but it has been proving immensely difficult, and he just wants her back.

In whatever capacity she’s willing to offer, he’ll take it - as long as her eyes meet his for longer than a second at a time and he gets to be on the receiving end of one of her heart-stopping smiles, he’ll take it.

Even if they can’t be what they were. If the texts cease, the dinners together stop, the drives home from the Rock aren’t on the table anymore - he just wants to know there’s still love between them. That when she looks at him she doesn’t only feel the crippling hurt he fears he has caused her.

“You had no problem shutting me out the last time,” she scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling up at him, “It should be like second nature for you to ignore me again.”

“That isn’t fair, it’s not the same-,”

“Poppy!” 

Nico has always loved the way his mother is enamoured by Poppy.

The first time they had met, she’d been besotted with her. It had been during Poppy’s first year with the team - his parents had come out quite late in the season, late enough that he hadn’t seen them in a while since the summer, and he was anticipating their arrival with child-like excitement. 

Their flight into Newark had been delayed, and with them coming out on a game day, he was shut in the locker room by the time they had arrived, and he had asked Poppy for his biggest favour yet in the course of their friendship.

She had agreed to it no questions asked, no favour held over him in return, and she had pretty much hosted the two of them from their arrival at the Prudential Center to when the arena had emptied.

When Nico had reunited with his parents in the family lounge, Poppy had still been with them, waiting until she saw them off into their son’s company before leaving them alone, and he had never been more grateful to someone in his life.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he had apologised as he embraced his father, a firm clap coming down on his back as his arms wrapped around him, and he had smiled at Poppy over his shoulder. “Did you guys enjoy the game?”

“Of course we did, we had the best company in all of New Jersey,” his mother had her own arm around his best friend, Poppy’s cheeks flushing as she smiled bashfully back at him. 

Nico had kissed his mom on the cheek and had given her a side hug with the arm not around Poppy before he moved his attention to his friend.

“Thank you for looking after them,” he beamed at her, wrapping his arms around her once his mother had released and giving her a little squeeze. “I owe you,”

“That’s alright. Your dad got a little rowdy in the second period, but other than that they weren’t too much trouble,” Poppy had shrugged, a mischievous smirk cast toward his father who gave a humoured scoff in return.

“You were yelling louder than me, Poppy,” he remarked, his accent thick and his tone fond. “Katja tell him.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Nico chuckled, shaking his head toward his mom as she opened her mouth ready to pick a side, “I believe him, she gets creative when it comes to calling out the refs, I’ve heard it before.”

“Sorry for being passionate about my team,” she had pouted, “I’ll just sit in silence while you all get high-sticked to holy heaven next time.”

Nico had felt warmth wash all over him when he heard his dad’s loud cackle of a laugh - the kind he gave over family game nights when Nina outsmarted both her brothers, and they would turn to their father for some kind of defence, the kind of laughter filled with familiarity and affection - and had seen his mother’s crinkling eyes and dimpled smile.

“Do you need a ride home?” He had asked, swallowing down the attraction that was spiralling within him before it was too obvious to ignore. They had rode in together that morning, and he would usually drive her home if that was the case, but he had also promised his parents he would treat them to a nice meal after their long flight in.

“I’m alright, I can hitch a ride with one of the other boys,” Poppy declined, “You guys enjoy your dinner, it was really nice to meet you.”

“Nonsense,” Katja had exclaimed, a hand on Poppy’s arm as she moved to hug her goodbye, “Come with us, Nico can drop you home after,”

“We’ve been dying to hear someone tell us all of Nico’s secrets about his life over here.” Rino had joined in, egging Poppy on until she couldn’t say no.

When she had looked over to Nico, he hadn’t realised she was silently asking for his permission, too busy looking at her with a dopey grin on his face before he pulled himself together enough to nod his approval.

“Okay, yeah, thank you,” Poppy had agreed, “I just have to grab my bag from the office, I could meet you at your car in five minutes?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you in five.”

Nico had watched her go off as his mother looped her arm through his, leaning into him and watching Poppy until she disappeared through the far doors. 

“I like her,” Katja had a big, complimentary grin on her face when Nico looked down a little at her - and despite slipping into their native tongue, Nico had thought it would be obvious to anyone listening in what they were talking about just from the look on his mother’s face.

“Yeah, she’s great,” He had concurred, shaking her off his arm so that he could wrap it around her shoulders as they walked, and in a true show of his denial at the time, he had added, “A really good friend.”

He still remembers the sound of his mother’s knowing hum, that interaction between the four of them a catalyst for the feelings he had for the longest time suppressed.

Weeks ago, Poppy had asked him the last time he had wanted to kiss her. He’d told her about a night in a bar after the team had crashed out of the playoffs last year. A night where, in all the anguish and misery and regret, she had made him feel like he could breathe again. It was the last time he had felt overwhelmed by the urge to take the leap into something more with her.

The first time had been that night with his parents, when he’d dropped her back at her apartment after an evening of them oversharing embarrassing childhood anecdotes and Poppy sharing her own stories - ones she had of her favourite memories with Nico, and even ones without, letting his mom and dad into the strongroom that was her life before she met their son. 

Looking back, he thinks that night truly would have been a catalyst for his blossoming affections if he didn’t feel the watchful gaze of his parents waiting in his car while he made sure Poppy got inside safe.

He would have kissed her, he knows it.

Instead, he had returned to the driver’s seat and tried to ignore the smug grin his mother kept sending through the rearview mirror from her place in the back seat the whole journey to their hotel.

In the years since, her affections for Poppy have only grown, and so he should have expected that she would get excited the second she saw her - he only wishes her timing was better.

“Hi, Mrs Hischier” Poppy smiles despite her discomfort, the apples of her cheeks rounding and endearment sparkling in her previously dull eyes. The energy she gives to his mother is a stark contrast to that she had just been giving to Nico. “It’s so nice to see you!”

“It’s Katja, sweet girl, it’s clearly been too long since we have spoken!” His mother’s arms wrap around her, and he watches as Poppy’s body seems to melt at the touch, tense muscles relaxing and hand rubbing at her back. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look too good, are you feeling okay?”

She presses the back of her hand to Poppy’s clammy forehead as Nico remembers her doing so often to him as a child, gauging her temperature and casting a concerned glance over her from head to toe. 

“I’m alright, I’ve just been off sick the past week, I still probably look a little like a zombie,” Poppy chuckles, dismissively, still maintaining an eyre of warmth in the way she looks at his mother.

“Not at all, as pretty as ever, isn’t she, Nico?” His mom nudges him as if he needs any prompting to compliment her.

“Yeah,” he agrees without hesitation, and he starts to feel palpitations when her eyes glance quickly over to meet his before darting away.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Poppy huffs, and he doesn’t entirely know who she meant that for. “Did you and Rino enjoy your trip to Canada?”

Nico doesn’t know why he finds himself surprised by the way Poppy effortlessly recollects the information - a throwaway comment he had made to her in the back of that bar all those weeks ago of his parent’s whereabouts. Poppy remembers because she cares. She has always cared. Always listened to what he has to say, even if he thinks it’s irrelevant, and has always shown interest. 

He finds himself watching her as she catches up with his mother, giving tired smiles but engaging nonetheless, the conversation flowing between the two of them just as effortlessly as it had on the day they had met - where they had conversed over dinner like they had known each other for years, and Nico had blushed every time he met his mother’s eyes from across the table.

He remembers his birthday dinner with his family at the beginning of the month, where he had sat in mostly-silence and wished for her company, and he starts to wonder if it’s always going to be like that, from now on. 

If he’s always going to be longing for her. If he’s always going to feel like something’s missing if she isn’t around.

“I should go,” he hears her say, “I have to check some of the questions with the moderator and they’ll be opening the doors for the signing, soon.”

“Of course, don’t let me keep you,” his mom presses a comforting hand to Poppy’s arm, thumb rubbing in a soothing gesture before they part with goodbyes and a promise to catch up, properly, at some point. 

Nico doesn’t miss the way she hadn’t given him the same courtesy. And neither does his mother.

Her eyes narrow in his direction, and just as her lips part to no doubt call him out, a figure comes up beside them,

“They’re ready to start the signing if you are, Nico.” Jessica’s unusually perky voice rings out beside him, and he’s never been more thankful for an interruption in his life.

He hasn’t seen that disappointed glint in his mother’s eyes since he’d told her he was bringing a girlfriend home to meet her at the end of last summer, and had shown up to the house with Talia in tow.

Poppy

As backwards as it might seem to some people, the only part of Poppy’s life where she is able to seek complete solace in recent years has always been in her work.

When she had first gotten her job within the organisation - a co-op internship that covered her final year of college - she had been almost overwhelmed with pride for the first time in her life. She had always been a good student, had got into college of her own merit and hadn’t used family connections like she suspected her brother had done, and she had worked her butt off to prep for the application and interview.

And when she’d gotten the call to tell her they wanted her on the team, she had been over the moon.

She’d gotten along so well with the people she had met in the team so far, had loved their ethos and the environment at the Rock, and she couldn’t wait to build something great for herself when she got started.

She had immediately called home after accepting the position, buzzing with excitement to tell her father that she of all the alleged thousands of applicants had been accepted to work on the media programme for the New Jersey Devils, a respected establishment in one of the biggest sporting leagues in the country. She had expected he would be proud of her, too, but he had ended up heaving out a disappointed sigh, and she could hear him fold up his paper in the background before he had asked, “Hockey, Poppy? Really? What kind of success do you expect to find in such a barbaric environment?”

As much as his disapproval had hurt at that time, she credits her father’s aloofness with her happiness in her role to this day.

It turns out, she can find a lot of success in a barbaric environment if she puts enough of her heart into it.

Even back in her media days, acting as a lackey for some of the more senior guys and trudging through those first few months of hazing, she had loved her job. 

Sharing insights into the team and the sport, determined to break any stigma associated with the guys who played it and all while highlighting the way it brought pride and community to her home state, she left the building every day with a pep in her step and a giant grin on her face.

And it only got bigger when she was recruited onto the Youth Foundation team. The projects she has worked on, the people she has met, the incredible things they have all achieved together - she doesn’t think she could have gotten any luckier with her career - despite what her judgemental, uppity parents think of it.

So, when things get hard elsewhere - when she spends a little too much time with her family and goes a little stir crazy, or when she gets her heart broken by the one guy she had trusted to handle it with care, and ends up fixating on the possibility of him rekindling things with a woman he had told Poppy didn’t make him happy - she resorts to her factory settings of knuckling down and putting her work first.

Which is how, in the weeks since Nico had left her apartment that horrific night, she has attached her name to every project she can pick up. She has accepted every meeting, answered every call, returned every email, all with a smile she had felt like she was forcing at first, but has started to feel real as time has gone one.

And she thinks it’s working.

She doesn’t dread coming into the Arena - doesn’t pace the length of her office to prepare herself every time she needs to leave it, doesn’t hold her breath as she turns the corners in anticipation of seeing him, doesn’t wince every time someone knocks on her door until they pop their head in and reveal themselves.

Poppy has well and truly immersed herself in her work, and she can’t even feel the rattling of the shattered pieces of her heart anymore.

She’s too consumed with other stuff. With hockey clinics, planning fundraisers, local rink openings, development programmes, the Sweep The Deck gala, mentoring sessions, preparations for the Stadium Series in the next month. 

She should be exhausted. 

If she actually gives herself the brain power to think about anything other than work for a second, she probably would be - but she’s turned into a hammerhead shark of sorts, and she knows she’ll suffocate in all the other feelings if she stops swimming. 

If she gives even a second of her time to the constant urge to think about Nico, she’ll drown in him. In the hurt and the ache she feels when he’s even in the same room.

She has taken to pretending he isn’t there. To looking at others, immersing herself too deep in conversations that he won’t dare to interrupt, and she is actually satisfied with how she’s managed to hold herself together when it comes to the rest of the guys.

When the season had started last year, and Poppy had been avoiding Nico for the other reason over the course of those months, she had pretty much locked herself in her office during work hours, and had stayed home outside of them. She didn’t go to games, didn’t go to team events that she wasn’t working, didn’t attend birthdays or dinners or celebration trips to whatever bar could accommodate the whole team for the night. She had had stopped engaging as much with the other guys - Jack had even taken to calling her a recluse if she remembers correctly - and she’s determined not to let this mess get in the way of the great relationships she has with the rest of the guys. 

If not for the fact that it would be petulant for her to take out her frustrations regarding their captain with them, then for the fact that she needs the companionship.

She needs it so much that she doesn’t run from it, or even pretend like she doesn’t like their company. 

Weeks ago, if she had been coming up from the parking level with Nate Bastian, and he had tried to crack the joke, “Hey, Poppy, why are elevator jokes the best kind? Because they work on many levels,” she honestly would have scoffed and called him lame. But she had felt her lips twitching earlier in the day, and had let him boast about how he had made her smile as they walked together through the building to anyone they passed without even denying it.

The guys have been doing more for her mentality than she can ever thank them for - holding her up while her every instinct is telling her to crumble - and she couldn’t be more grateful to be a part of such a great team.

The Hughes brothers, especially. Luke, who texts her his every rambling thought sandwiched between memes and links to Tiktoks about giraffes, because he knows they make her smile. And Jack, who, despite being out of play with his shoulder, still, checks in with her every day he comes in, a drink in hand when she needs a pick me up the most, and an ever growing list of ridiculous names to call her. 

His continued visits have made her grow less weary of the knocks at her door, and so when one echoes through the room as she’s replying to some emails, she doesn’t feel the stutter of her heartbeat like she would have done last week.

“Hey, Pop,” he pokes his head into her office, fingers flexed around the door jamb as he edges his way in, empty handed, this time, but Poppy can’t hold it against him. Her day is almost finished, after all.

“What, no stupid nickname today? Did I upset you or something?” She pauses typing as she looks up at him, watching him close the door behind himself as he takes her lighthearted tone as an invitation inside.

“I did have a joke lined up about Snap and Crackle, but you’ve ruined it now actually,” he rolls his eyes playfully, throwing himself down in the chair opposite hers and flicking affectionately at his bobblehead. 

“Sorry,” Poppy gives a quick, bashful smile before going back to her work, tapping away at her noisy keyboard as she works her way through her inbox, “What’s up?”

“Was wondering if you’d seen Luke?”

“Not today, he doesn’t usually make a habit of coming down here though. Did he say he was gonna stop by?”

“Not exactly.” Jack frowns, a slight shrug of his better shoulder.

Poppy casts a confused glance his way, eyes narrowing as she watches him fidget in the seat. “Do you guys think the y chromosome is meant to get you out of ever giving a straight answer to something? What do you mean, not exactly?”

“Well, Dawsy said he’d seen him with Nico, and lately that means,” he looks as if he’s weighing up what to say in his head, and Poppy wishes the lower part of her desk didn’t block her legs from his so she could give him a quick kick to the shin, “Well, people usually come straight here after Nico pulls them to talk.”

She sighs.

She had figured as much, but the confirmation of it doesn’t make her heart ache any less.

She’d had her first suspicions when Smitty had shown her every picture she thinks he’s ever taken of his kids the other day. He’d sat beside her in the lounge while the team and staff had been waiting for some sort of safety meeting - one she hadn’t even got to focus much on because he had talked her ear off for almost an hour until he was finally pulled away for some other responsibilities. 

And then Jonas had come by her office - something he had literally never done before. He had found Poppy working on a project, brainstorming with post-its on her cleared floor, and had waited around until she had finished - chipping in little ideas here and there for a presentation on the Learn To Play programme and using his 6’2 stature to take an aerial photo of all her sticky notes that Poppy never would have been able to get right, enabling her to clean them away and tidy up after herself before she finished for that day. It wasn’t that she minded his company, he’d actually been a massive help, but she had this nagging feeling that he would never come see her of his own volition.

Then there was Holtzy and Dawson volunteering for the hockey clinic in the debrief earlier like they were being held at gunpoint and forced into labour.

Nico has put them all up to it.

Even when he’s giving her space, he can’t leave her be.

“So what you’re saying is he’s abusing his position of power to get you all to come talk to me,”

“I don’t know if I’d phrase it like that,” Jack scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck, and she only feels a slight pinch of guilt. She knows he had a habit of coming to see her before all of this, but his visits have definitely increased over the past few weeks - so, he isn’t entirely innocent, either. “Maybe he misses you?”

“Maybe he should have thought about that,” she mutters, leaning onto her desk and pressing her palms into her closed eyes to relieve the headache that’s starting to build. 

Distracting herself with work had been going so well.

“You know we can’t talk about this, Jack,” she sighs, “He’s your captain, it’s not fair of me to vent about our situation to you of all people.”

“Ouch,”

“You know what I mean. If it was anybody else, I’d come to you for advice, but you guys are a team, I’m just-,”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Poppy,” Jack rebukes, sitting up straight in his chair and levelling her with a stern look, “You’re our friend. Even if Nico is asking the others to check up on you, they wouldn’t do it if they didn’t care about you. None of us want a repeat of the start of the season, okay, we just want to know you’re alright.”

“I appreciate you saying that,” Poppy gives a weak smile, the kind that doesn’t quite meet her eyes, “I just don’t want anybody taking sides, I know Luke’s been off with him about the whole thing,”

“That’s probably where he is now,” Jack realises, “He did get a little rough in practice before.”

“Yeah, I heard,” she says, knowing Luke and Nico had a collision earlier that had been the talk of the office all morning. “Look, I love you guys for it, but I don’t need babysitters. I just wanna move on. And you can tell Nico that, the next time he tries to force you out here with.another iced beverage just to keep me company or whatever.”

“Well, they go on the road tomorrow, so you should get some peace and quiet around here.” Jack still seems solemn at the thought of the team travelling anywhere without him, but she has tried one too many times to talk to him about it and, every time, he has shut her down. He’ll talk about it when he’s ready, and if she’s making a point of not wanting to be pushed on a subject, she isn’t going to do the same to him, even if her instincts are telling her to wrap the guy up in a bear hug and tell him everything will be okay. “I’ll leave you to your work, anyway, I’ll be around until the weekend if you need me, Pop. I promise I would be bringing you drinks even if he wasn’t asking me to.”

He pushes himself up from the seat with his good side before retreating back towards the door, and Poppy can’t let him go without at least attempting to cheer him up. He never usually leaves this quick, always finds some reason to hover and affectionately irritate her just a little - but she can tell he’s done figuring out reasons to linger around the arena for the day.

“I would have laughed, by the way,” she calls out to him, causing him to pause half way out and look back, a questioning brow arched her way. “Snap, Crackle and Pop would have been a good one, it’s funny.”

“They’re all funny, Poppy.”

She really is losing her mind.

As if the universe is playing some gigantic, cruel joke on her, Poppy’s promised peace and quiet while the team have gone on the road has turned into her shut in her apartment with every single curtain drawn, wrapped up under a mountain of covers to combat the shivers, and a leg poking out of them to alleviate the hot flushes - all while battling the most crippling waves of nausea she has ever experienced in all of her adult life.

She had gone home from work on Wednesday and had invited Nia around, hoping her best friend’s anger around the Nico situation had dwindled enough that she wasn’t going to harp on about it all night, and they could enjoy some movies and dirty takeout like they were back in college without Poppy having to even think about anything else.

Uptown Girls had been playing on the TV, empty containers of Korean Hot Pot had littered her coffee table, and Nia had fallen asleep sprawled out across the couch when Poppy had first started to feel off.

She had been watching Brittany Murphy and Dakota Fanning swirling around in the teacup ride, and had started to feel like her own living room was spinning.

She had barely made it to her bathroom before she was puking her guts up, waking Nia in the process who had spent the next hour holding her hair back before she tucked her into bed.

Poppy had called in to work the next morning. She had missed even watching the game against Carolina, could barely remember a solid half an hour of consciousness between that Wednesday night and Saturday morning.

All she remembers is vomiting, Nia checking in after work, bringing an abundance of electrolyte drinks and trying to get her to eat before she had to leave again She recalls burning bagels she had forgot she had left in the toaster, vomiting again at the smell of the burned bagels, and having a series of the most absurdly vivid dreams she’s ever experienced in her life. 

All of which had one common theme.

Nico.

Dreams where she’s swimming in a large, unidentifiable body of water. It’s cold, and she is exhausted, and her limbs ache from treading water and trying to stay afloat. It’s mostly dark, sometimes lit by the moon, the reflection of which shimmers in her path to something in the distance. And she’s stretching, reaching out, desperately kicking her legs to get to whatever it is until she realises it’s him, and he’s swimming away, making it a thousand times harder on her.

Dreams of her stood at the door of her apartment, the repeated knock on the other side echoing on and on as she scrambles to look for the keys to unlock it. It’s a pattern she thinks she recognises, a rhythmic knock that only he has used before, but she can’t get the door open with all her might, and her keys are nowhere to be seen. 

Dreams of their fated night together, only this time it’s like she’s on the outside looking in, watches the two of them in the throes of passion, only when she takes a proper look, he isn’t into it like she is. Or there’s another version where she isn’t herself at all. She has much lighter hair, and mutters out profanities in German as Nico presses sweet kisses into her lips and cradles her face lovingly. She’s Talia, and he looks as happy as ever when she is.

Despite the almost 3 days of round the clock sleep, she has never felt so exhausted in her life.

When the nausea fades ever so slightly, and she gets enough strength in herself to get up - to eat, to drink, to function like a normal human being, she feels sluggish and weak, and like she hasn’t had a moment’s rest in months.

Nia had been checking in, surprisingly not sick herself even though Poppy assumes her bug came from the takeout they shared - but Nia is vegetarian, so she had thought that might have explained it. She had been making sure Poppy remained hydrated, and continued to eat despite the continuous waves of nausea that kept coming back. She had done her grocery shopping, stocking her refrigerator with a bunch of different juices and smoothies, and buying her a bunch of fresh fruit, some bread, some yoghurts, pasta, crackers, plain chips, all the things that would hopefully keep her energy up and her nausea down.

And it had taken her a week to recover to a point that she felt like she could work again. She probably shouldn’t have forced herself back when she wasn’t feeling, or looking, 100%, but she had become so used to using her job as a coping mechanism, that regaining the slightest bit of her energy had her spiralling a little mentally, and she couldn’t take being at home any longer.

She had known that Jesper had his Q&A event, and had to stop by the Rock to pick up some of her files before making her way over - but that trip had proved to be more trouble than it was worth, and she had ended up getting herself all mixed up when she had returned to her office and had ended up dry heaving in the bathrooms when she caught a mix of smells walking through the hallway on her way in.

She had wanted to get some prep work done - approve the questions, meet with the photographers, catch up with Jess from Media, but she had ended up hurled over the toilet bowl for a good hour until she felt somewhat better, and was in so much of a rush to get over to the event that all she had managed to do to pull herself together was throw her hair up and hope that chomping on a breath mint wouldn’t trigger her senses all over again. 

She felt like she was fresh out of The Walking Dead.

She had to get an Uber over, had sat with her head out of the window like some kind of dog to alleviate the sweat that had broken out from her rushing around, and by the time she made it - she was so out of sorts she barely could remember why she was there.

And then she had bumped into Nico.

And she hates that she had felt a little better.

She hates that she found comfort in the fresh smell of his cologne, or the soft touch of his hand to her skin. She hates that the sound of his voice had quelled the rapid thumping of her heartbeat, and that it felt so good just to be in his presence, she had almost forgotten how much she had been hurt. How much he had hurt her.

She hates how she had felt obliged to pretend everything was okay in front of his mother, the sweetest woman on planet Earth embracing her like she was her own daughter, wrapping her up in a shroud of worry and sheer maternal instinct.

And she hates how all of those feelings have lingered throughout the afternoon. As she had watched him engage with his fans during his signing, big dimpled smiles sent to tiny children drowning in jerseys way too big for their small frames, and all adorning his number on the back. As she had watched Katja as the event unfolded, eyes sparkling with pride for her son and everything he has accomplished. As she’s stood and watched him answer questions she knows the answers to like she knows her own favourite food.

Where is your dream vacation destination?

He wants to visit Costa Rica.

What is your favourite sport outside of hockey?

He loves Tennis, loves Roger Federer, a real idol for him as a kid growing up in Switzerland, but also loves soccer, which he always says with an uncomfortable twist to his lips, because his father used to play.

What does he miss the most about home?

His family. His siblings. She probably knows more about Nina and Luca than she knows about Oliver, at this point.

“What’s your favourite thing to do in Jersey when you’re not playing hockey?”

“Uhh,” Poppy watches as Nico rolls his shoulders, his face pensive as he ponders the question, “It depends when we get time off. If the weathers nice, Jersey has some nice beaches, sometimes we go in a group and hang out,” he answers, and just before he carries on, his eyes flicker over to Poppy, meeting hers and holding her gaze until she looks away. “But if it’s when we’re playing I try to spend any downtime with friends. I have some really great friends here and I think that helps me destress a little, just being around them, going out for food and drinks and stuff. Some of my favourite people I have met while I’ve been living here.”

Poppy doesn’t dare look back up, her pulse throbbing in her temples.

“Well that’s a perfect segue into the next question, who’s your best friend on the team?”

She doesn’t stick around to listen to him skirt around that answer, pushing herself discretely through the doors back into the room that the signing had taken place in and busying herself packing up what she can without any help. 

She needs to carry on working, needs to stop thinking, needs to stop feeling so many things. Needs to be somewhere else, where she can’t look at him, can’t admire the way the deep brown of his irises shine when he smiles, or how one of his eyebrows does that cute little hop when he speaks for a little too long, or how she thinks she can still feel his hand on her face even though it’s been at least a good couple of hours since they had spoken by now.

She doesn’t realise how quick she’s moving around until the room starts to spin, and she stumbles a little into a table before steadying herself on one of the chairs.

“Hey, Poppy, are you alright?” The words are spoken in an accent she’s always found comforting, only the voice is different. Softer. Feminine.

She looks up to see Nico’s mom moving closer, concern causing her eyes to go round and her brows to furrow, and the soft, gentle touch of her hand to Poppy’s arm has her stuttering in her response.

“Y-yeah,” she breathes, “Just got a little dizzy.”

“Are you sure, do you need to sit down?”

“I’m okay, honestly,” she smiles, despite the way Katja’s warm, caring eyes mirror those of her son and make Poppy’s chest ache just a little. “I haven’t really eaten much today, I just got a little lightheaded, I’ll be fine once we’re done here and I can go home and eat.”

“Here,” Katja reaches into her purse, digging around before she pulls out some sort of granola bar, “I got this for a snack on my flight and didn’t eat it, you can have it to keep you going.”

Poppy can hardly decline the motherly gesture, and takes the snack with a thank you before unwrapping it and taking a cautious bite. She probably isn’t doing herself any favours, the nausea creeping up when she chews on a bit of dried fruit, and the unexpected flavour immediately triggers her stomach. She’s been sticking to crackers and dry toast, and hasn’t really eaten anything sweet in a week - the combination of the fruit and the syrupy coating making her feel so uneasy she has to sit down. 

“You’re still sick?” Katja sits beside her, watching over her in the way only a loving mother could, concern etched upon her beautiful features and a tilted head examining Poppy from head to toe. 

“I usually shift bugs a lot quicker than this, but I think the not being able to eat and the exhaustion is making everything worse.”

“You aren’t sleeping, either?”

“Technically I might be sleeping too much.” Poppy takes another bite, trying to put her mind over the matter, knowing that it should actually make her feel well enough to get through the rest of the event to have something in her belly. “But I keep having these crazy dreams, and they’re so vivid that I don’t feel rested at all when I wake up, even if I got enough hours in. Then I just feel anxious and it makes me more tired.”

Katja nods understandingly, a knowing smile plucking at her lips until her cheeks dimple, just like Nico’s do. “How many weeks?”

“Have I been sick?” Poppy asks, too busy trying to ignore the sickly sweet flavour on her tongue to notice the woman sat beside her shaking her head, “Just last week. I think it was bad takeout or something, combined with work stress probably-,”

“How many weeks are you into your pregnancy, Poppy?” She chuckles, a gentle hand placed on Poppy’s lap. “You don’t have to pretend to me.”

“My-,” Poppy covers her mouth as she swallows a hardly-chewed bit of granola, “I’m not-,” she struggles a little with her words, cringing at the way she can feel it going down her throat, and clears it with an awkward cough when she can, “Pregnancy?”

“Oh Goodness, I’m sorry,” Katja’s eyes widen in alarm, the hand on Poppy’s knee squeezing apologetically, “I just thought, the dreams, the sickness, the exhaustion, that’s how it started for me with all 3 of my children.”

“Oh.” At least she isn’t the only person Nico has ever caused to have such torturous dreams, she thinks. “No, I’ve just had a bug, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna clear up,” she says, her voice much smaller as she continues to speak through trembling lips, continues to grow more unsure of her words as something akin to dread settles in the pit of her stomach. “And this is like the aftershocks of being sick, or something, one last hurrah for the germs.”

“Of course,” Katja nods, giving Poppy’s knee a comforting rub before placing her hands on her own lap, a sheepish look given as she makes eye contact, the same dark eyes she’s been dreaming about looking right at her. “I would never usually assume, I swear you don’t look it, it was just my first thought when you mentioned the sleep. It just took me right back, my pregnancies were all like that. Heavy sickness, exhaustion, even in my bones I felt tired, and the dreams were crazy, especially with Nico, it was like full movies playing out in my head every night for the whole 9 months.”

“I never knew that was a thing.” Poppy has obviously heard of morning sickness. She’s heard of expectant mothers being exhausted, their bodies worn out from the oh-so-minor task of creating life, but she hadn’t ever heard anyone talk about dreams being an indicator of pregnancy.

“Babies make your body do crazy things.” She gives a reminiscent chuckle, and Poppy notices her lose herself a little in the memory, warm eyes melting with the recollection. “But at least you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Right.” The empty swallow Poppy takes next hurts more than the granola had before, the scratch of the cereal a minor irritation in comparison to the lump currently forming there. “What other symptoms did you have?”

“At the start, food was my enemy. Rino used to have to make me smoothies to get all my vitamins in. You wouldn’t think with the appetite my boys had growing up that they would have made me fear eating so much, but it was bad. I always envied the women who just had a little morning sickness.”

Poppy feels her eyes well up - more so at the way Katja’s eyes glint with pride and love when she talks about her family than anything else. It’s beautiful. Even recalling how sick her babies had made her, Poppy can tell from the look on her face that her pregnancies brought her unadulterated joy.

She remembers when Oliver’s wife, Kimberley, had been pregnant with their first son. They had lived in Jersey, still, back then, and family dinners were a staple every Friday night. They were all sat around the dining table back at the Jensen house, and Kimberley, God bless her, had misguidedly asked Priscilla what her pregnancies were like. 

“Hell.” Poppy’s mom had said, sipping at her wine and looking over the glass at Oliver with a measured glare. “He gave me uneven breasts and dry skin,”

“Mom,” Oliver had grunted in disgust, a protective hand reaching out to take hold of his wife’s.

“And she,” Priscilla gave an accusatory point in Poppy’s direction, “Gave me thin hair and postnatal depression. But she evened my breasts back out, so there’s a silver lining, I suppose.”

Kimberley hasn’t made the same mistake of seeking motherly advice since then. 

“And Nina made me have super-human scent, I could smell things from floors away.”

Poppy can barely look at her anymore.

After she’d spoken to Nico when he’d turned up before, she could still smell him from across the room. And she hadn’t been able to step foot in the common area in her office when she’d dropped by to pick up her files earlier, thinking she could smell someone’s microwaved food and feeling like she was about to vomit. She has only been able to nibble at dry crackers all week just to avoid eating or smelling anything that would set her off.

But that’s the bug, right? She’s been sluggish, she’s been tired, running hot all week, and her body has constantly ached, especially-

“I should get all this stuff packed up,” Poppy shoots up from her seat, thankfully able to suppress the dizziness. “I think I feel better, thank you so much for keeping me company.”

She shouldn’t hope so much that she isn’t being rude, shouldn’t expect or want Katja to hold her to high esteem, but she finds herself cringing at her quick subject change, and caring a little too much that it will make her think less of her.

Her son doesn’t want her to be a part of his life in that way, Poppy thinks, so it shouldn’t matter what Katja feels about her. Not anymore.

“That’s okay, Poppy, thank you for listening to me reminisce. It was nice. Nico usually gets too embarrassed for me to talk about stuff like this.” Katja follows Poppy up, mirroring her to help her pack up the rest of the merchandise that hadn’t been bought or signed.

“I don’t think he could ever be embarrassed by you.” Poppy chuckles despite herself, defending him like it’s second nature, even though she knows Katja wasn’t trying to put him down in the first place. He’s her son, for crying out loud, Poppy thinks, she doesn’t need some random girl he works with acting like she knows him any better than his own mother. “He probably just doesn’t want to think about ever making you uncomfortable, even as a foetus or whatever.”

Katja gives that same knowing smile she had worn just before turning Poppy’s world upside down mere minutes ago. The smile that would be patronising on anyone else, but the warmth in her eyes holds nothing but understanding and appreciation.

“He’s a sweet boy,” she remarks, proudly, “I never thought of It like that."

“Yeah, you raised a gentleman for sure.” Poppy had considered that it would feel more like a lie when the thought had come to her head, but as the words leave her mouth, she finds comfort in them.

Despite how much he had hurt her, she still knows Nico’s heart. She knows he cares deeply, knows he is selfless and warm, and loves with everything in him. He just doesn’t love her - not how she wants him to, at least - but she can’t hold that against him forever.

The words weigh a little heavier when the situation dawns on her, but she tries not to get ahead of herself. Not again.

She can’t be pregnant. That’s insane. 

And she can’t rack her brain trying to remember if either of them had protected themselves with his mom sat right in front of her, she knows for a fact she can’t suppress the heat that rises up her neck at the memory - she may as well wave a gigantic flag that reads Hey, I had sex with your son!

“We’re heading for dinner when he’s finished here, would you want to join us?” Katja asks, motherly concern etched upon her features, and Poppy’s heart warms at the gesture in spite of the panic rousing in her chest.

“That’s alright,” she shakes her head, guilt plucking slightly at her with the telling of the minute lie, “I have plans with another friend.”

“We’ll be going home next week, so there’s plenty of time to catch up, if you’re free at all.”

Poppy can’t help but relent with a soft smile, nodding at the suggestion without overthinking it. She’d accidentally gatecrashed a couple lunches Nico and Katja had together in some of her previous visits, and she was always so welcoming and kind - it would hardly be putting herself out if she were to do it again. “I’d like that,”

“If you’re busy, Nina and Rino will be over for the Stadium game, don’t let them convince you to come out when I’m not there.” She jests with a pointed finger, and Poppy finds herself laughing despite her nerves. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good girl.” Katja reaches out and pinches softly at Poppy’s cheek, “Make sure you keep drinking plenty, and eating too, even if you feel sick you should try make sure you’re keeping your energy up. Try soup with lots of vegetables and bread. You can make it in a big batch and freeze it.”

Poppy can’t remember the last time her own mother had cared about her like this - not without belittling her, at least. When she’d spoken to her mom last week, had told her she was off work sick and couldn’t come over at the weekend, she had heard her roll her eyes over the phone. She’d been told that this is where eating poorly gets her, and that if she was keeping on top of her supplements and vitamin shots, she wouldn’t be so prone to illness. 

Even as a grown woman, with her own career, her own life, her own home, she still feels like a berated child when it comes to her mom. 

Nico’s mom makes her feel child-like in an entirely different way. In a way that’s warm and comforting, a way that wouldn’t give her anxiety every time her name comes up on her phone.

“I will, thank you for looking out for me, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it, Katja.”

Kindness comes like a second nature to Katja - to all members of the Hischier family she has encountered thus far - and a pang of jealousy and longing hits her at the realisation that some people have just been raised around this level of benevolence their whole lives, and think nothing of it.

Though, she knows Nico appreciates it.

Katja departs back through the doors into the Q&A with a soft smile and an enthusiastic wave, and Poppy waits until they have closed properly before she retrieves her cellphone from her back pocket.

Frustrated at the way it refuses to identify her face, she prods her fingers into the screen, typing in her passcode and swiping until she finds her calendar app. 

She knows she had an appointment scheduled in December with her gynaecologist. She had been in the middle of trialling a new contraception back in October - a sticky patch that had made her bleed continuously for 3 weeks and turned her into a raging nightmare to be around - and had stopped using it despite the 6 week recommendation she had been given, figuring she’d just wait out the rough periods until her next time she was booked in and speak to the doctor about it. But she’d been so busy in the back end of last year, she doesn’t remember how long it’s been since she stopped. 

Her eyes widen when she locates the appointment, clicking into the date, December 15th and reading the notes she left in there.

NEED TO RESCHEDULE!!!! busy w/ work, gynae breaks 4 xmas 22nd, comes back Jan 2nd.

She remembers the phone call as soon as she reads it. She had cancelled instead of rescheduling, knowing she was picking up extra work and would be busy until pretty much after the Christmas break. She was supposed to call in the new year. She’d gotten distracted. She hadn’t thought it was an emergency, it wasn’t like she thought she would need it for contraceptive purposes. And her periods hadn’t even been that bad since she stopped using it. Light flow, 21 day cycle, barely any cramps. She’d even been keeping a track of it, herself. She had nothing to worry about, which is probably why she hadn’t remembered to book herself back in. Hadn’t thought to start taking any other birth control in the meantime.

Her Cycle app is the next stop, flicking through the dates until she realises she was on her period after Christmas, and that the 10 or so days after that had ended were marked another colour, given another meaning.

She can feel her heartbeat in her ears. 

No, no, no.

This isn’t happening.

She’s jumping to conclusions.

It’s just a sickness bug from the takeout.

The dreams are just her broken heart playing tricks on her.

She isn’t pregnant.

She can’t be pregnant.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @bunbunbl0gs @idgaf-if-youre-here @youflowerr-youfeast @thearchersstuff @bellsdi0r @wonderheartz @jjgsunflower @butterflies35 @kenziepickle @josierosie @laheyxlover @mrsmattytkachuk (sorry if your tag hasn't worked btw)

[dagasinfilo]

brain misbehaving today due to the problems

[moonstruckme]

hiii I'm just here resubmitting my request<3 so maybe r was in a fire (a small or large one, u decide), james was called and when he finds out it was her he gets sooo worried and she goes to the hospital or something? thank u!!

Thanks for requesting my love!

cw: fire, paramedics/ambulance, symptoms of smoke inhalation

firefighter!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

James starts to stand you up when the ambulance turns onto your block. 

“Jamie, don’t bother them.” You feel a cough building in your chest, but you repress it. “I’m f—fine.” It escapes on the last syllable, and you can barely look at your boyfriend as he raises his eyebrows at you, incredulous.

“Humor me,” he says simply. 

You let him pull you up this time, and he presses a kiss into your hair even though you smell like pollution. James has stripped out of his bulky jacket, but the heavy pants still hang from suspenders wrapped around his black t-shirt. The fabric swishes against your leg as you make your way over to the ambulance. 

“We need oxygen,” he says without prelude, though not unkindly, nodding at the paramedic that gets out first in greeting. 

As if to punctuate this, your throat pinches warningly, and you let out a couple of meager coughs. James’ arm contracts around your waist. 

The paramedic seems to trust his authority, nodding for her partner to get something ready in the back while she walks over to you. 

“Look here please,” she says. 

You obey, flinching slightly when she points a pen light in your eyes. James’ hand migrates up to your shoulder, rubbing lightly. 

“Any dizziness?” 

“No,” you say, coughing a bit. 

She clicks her light off. “Nausea or vomiting?” 

“No.” 

“Headache?” 

“No.” 

James cuts a look your way. “Sweetheart,” he says softly. 

“I did have a headache,” you amend, “but it went away.” 

“Chest pain?” 

“A little,” you admit. 

“Shortness of breath?” 

“I don’t…” You look to James, then feel stupid. It’s not like he knows. “I don’t think so?” 

“Coughing?” 

“Yes,” James says emphatically. 

The paramedic gives him a funny look, then asks you, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirm. A little cough works its way out of your lungs as if to prove it. 

James looks a bit chastised. He rubs your back, touch both firm and comforting. 

She gives you both a smile. “Come sit back here, please.” 

You follow her into the back of the ambulance, perching awkwardly on the gurney in the middle.

“It seems like you have relatively mild symptoms of smoke inhalation,” she tells you. Her partner passes her a mask, and she holds it over your face for a few seconds before letting you do it yourself. Her fingers press to your wrist. “Your eyes are irritated, but it’s a good sign that your headache went away already. There’s probably not much more we can do other than give you oxygen. Your other symptoms should ease on their own.” 

You nod your understanding, relieved even if you’d been the one saying you didn’t need any help. With James, it’s typically best if only one of you shows your worry at a time. And he’s plenty worried enough for both of you right now. 

You glance over at him, standing outside with his arms crossed. It’s doing crazy things to his biceps, and you think that usually he’d grin if he caught you checking him out like this but now he looks like he might start tapping his foot impatiently. You feel guilty for getting him in such a tizzy. 

The paramedic finishes with your pulse and follows your gaze. “That your boyfriend?” she asks. 

Your breath fogs the mask. “Mhm.” 

“He seems fairly rattled,” she notes. “I supposed it’s probably not typical to get called to a fire at your girlfriend’s place, though.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

You’d already been sitting out on the lawn when James’ crew had arrived, the fire already put out and your front door left open. Smoke rolled out of it in one thick, relentless wave. You still have no idea how a fire that couldn’t have been burning more than fifteen minutes had created so much. You suppose James could tell you if you asked him later. 

The others had run inside, but James had gone straight to you. His chief wanted to confirm with you that there was no one else in the home (there wasn’t) and that you’d gotten out quickly (you didn’t have a great answer for that one). Like pulling teeth, it came out that you’d fallen asleep with dinner in the oven, and it was only by coincidence that someone had called your phone and the ringing woke you up. You’d turned off the oven and dumped cupfuls of water on your flaming dinner until it went out, but the smoke had spread throughout your home and your neighbor had already called emergency services. 

This led to you having to admit you hadn’t replaced the batteries in your smoke detector, which had led to a fervent lecture from your boyfriend that you doubt you’ve heard the end of. It was only the arrival of the ambulance that had distracted him. 

The paramedic sitting next to you jerks her chin toward James. That’s all it takes to get his attention, since he’s watching you like you’re going to float away if he doesn’t keep a close eye on things. 

“You can come up here,” she tells him. 

James clambers up quickly, giving her a terse smile at half his usual wattage as she moves to let him take her place next to you. 

“Hey, angel.” He takes the mask from you, holding it to your face himself. His other hand slides down the inside of your forearm and interlocks its fingers with yours. “Is she okay?” he asks the paramedic you’d spoken to. 

“Her symptoms are minor,” she assures him. “I wanna keep her on oxygen for ten minutes or so before checking her levels, but she’ll be fine.” 

James nods in thanks, but his sigh ghosts over the shell of your ear when he leans his brow against the side of your head. The paramedics conveniently find other things to do, and you’re grateful for it. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him quietly. 

“I think you should stay at my place tonight,” he says, matching your tone, “if that’s alright with you.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh a little. It provokes your lungs, and a cough follows. 

James winces. Kisses your cheek softly. 

“Yeah,” you try again. “That sounds good, thank you.” 

“The next time you set foot in your place, I’m going with you and installing new smoke detectors.” 

Now you wince. “Fair enough.” 

“And I don’t think you should ever cook or nap again.” 

“That seems a bit far.” 

“I dunno, I think I’m being reasonable.” He kisses your cheek again, lingering this time. “I’d prefer to wrap you in some sort of fireproofed bubble wrap, but I think this is a compromise we can both live with, no?” 

You smile, and you can’t tell if your chest hurts because of your smokey lungs or the raw quality to James’ teasing, but it helps when he smiles back. 

“What if,” you say, “you cook, and I nap. Would that satisfy you?” 

He mulls this over for a second. “For now,” he decides. “I think I’d still like to work on fire-proofing some bubble wrap in the meantime, though.”

[ms-snape]

Severus snape x reader. She just find ou that she’s pregnant? And didn’t know how to say it to Severus.

Title: New Hope

Warning: none... exept stressed reader I guess...

Words Count: 2000+

Masterlist

---

Y/N Snape had never imagined that standing amidst the lush greenhouses of Hogwarts, surrounded by the vibrant life of magical plants, she would feel so utterly lifeless herself. For weeks now, she had felt a gnawing sense of fatigue, the kind that no amount of rest could cure. Her usually nimble fingers, once adept at trimming and caring for the delicate blooms and exotic roots, felt heavy, sluggish. Nausea had become a familiar visitor, creeping up on her with increasing frequency.

At first, she dismissed it as overwork, perhaps an accidental inhalation of some stray pollen or spore. But when the dizziness grew so severe that she had to excuse herself from her third-year class, Y/N knew it was time to seek Madam Pomfrey’s guidance. She wasn’t one to visit the hospital wing lightly, but something was clearly wrong.

Now, sitting on the edge of a bed in the pristine, sterile room, she anxiously awaited Madam Pomfrey’s return. The soft hum of the enchanted ceiling above, designed to soothe patients with a gentle twilight glow, did little to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind. Severus was busy in his dungeons, likely unaware that she had even left the greenhouse, and Y/N couldn't shake the nagging sense of dread building in her chest.

When Madam Pomfrey finally entered, her expression unreadable, Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Well, Professor Snape,” Madam Pomfrey began, her tone gentle but professional, “I’ve reviewed the results of the tests I performed.”

Y/N leaned forward slightly, her hands clenching in her lap. “Is it… is it serious?”

Pomfrey’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Not in the way you might think.” She paused for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully before continuing. “You’re pregnant, Y/N.”

For a heartbeat, Y/N didn’t react. The word hung in the air like a foreign concept, something distant and impossible. Pregnant? She blinked, confusion clouding her thoughts. Her mind raced through the possibilities, the implications.

“You’re sure?” she finally managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

Pomfrey nodded, her eyes warm with understanding. “Quite sure. Based on the symptoms you’ve described and the tests I ran, I’d estimate you’re about ten weeks along.”

Y/N felt the world tilt around her, as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet. Pregnant. She placed a trembling hand over her abdomen, where a tiny life was beginning to grow. This was real. This was happening.

“I… I didn’t expect this,” she murmured, more to herself than to Pomfrey. “I didn’t even think… Severus and I… we never talked about having children...”

The weight of those words settled heavily in her chest. Severus. How would she tell him? They had been married for nearly two years now, and though their bond was strong, they had never once discussed starting a family. In fact, she vividly recalled Severus’s past comments about children—his distaste for their unpredictability, his general discomfort around them. He had always preferred the solitude of his potions lab, the quiet precision of his work. A child would shatter that carefully constructed world.

Would he even want this? Would he be angry? Disappointed?

“I don’t know how to tell him,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. “What if… what if he doesn’t want this baby?”

Pomfrey’s gaze softened with sympathy. “Y/N, I can’t speak for Severus, but I do know that he loves you deeply. Whatever his feelings about children may have been in the past, this is different. This is your child. His child.”

Y/N nodded, but the anxiety still twisted tightly in her chest. She thanked Pomfrey quietly before slipping out of the hospital wing, her mind spinning with the weight of the news she now carried.

The following days passed in a blur. Y/N moved through her classes on autopilot, her mind always half-distracted, her heart heavy with the secret she held. Each evening, she would sit with Severus in their private quarters, sharing quiet meals, but the words she so desperately needed to say remained lodged in her throat. She couldn’t find the courage to tell him, not yet.

It was during one of these particularly restless days that Minerva McGonagall caught her lingering outside the Great Hall, her eyes distant as students bustled past her. Y/N had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the Transfiguration professor approaching until Minerva’s voice broke through the haze.

“Y/N, dear, you look a bit peaky. Is everything all right?”

Y/N blinked and forced a smile, though she could tell by the narrowing of Minerva’s eyes that it wasn’t convincing. “I’m fine, really. Just… tired.”

Minerva’s lips pressed into a thin line, her sharp gaze piercing through Y/N’s weak facade. “You’ve been looking more than tired lately. I’ve seen you lost in thought during meals, and you’ve barely spoken to anyone. What’s going on?”

Y/N hesitated, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach. She trusted Minerva, perhaps more than anyone at Hogwarts aside from Severus. But saying the words aloud—admitting the truth—felt too terrifying.

Minerva, however, was not one to let things lie. She stepped closer, her voice softening. “Y/N, I’ve known you for many years as one of my student then as a colleague and friend. I can see that something is troubling you. You can tell me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes before she could stop them. She hadn’t realized just how much she had been holding back, how much the weight of this secret had been wearing on her.

“I… I’m pregnant, Minerva,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Minerva’s sharp intake of breath was immediate, her eyes widening in surprise. “Pregnant?” she repeated, her voice filled with astonishment. “That’s… well, that’s wonderful news, my dear!”

Y/N shook her head, wiping at her eyes with trembling hands. “I don’t know if it is. Severus… he doesn’t like children. We’ve never talked about having them. I’m terrified that he won’t want this baby.”

Minerva’s expression softened with understanding as she gently placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Oh, Y/N,” she said quietly. “I can understand why you’re afraid. But Severus loves you. And love has a way of changing even the most stubborn of minds.”

Y/N sniffled, but the knot of fear in her chest remained tight. “What if he doesn’t want it, Minerva? What if he resents me for this?”

Minerva squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Give him a chance. He may surprise you. You’ve brought so much light into his life already, Y/N, you've chnager him in so many ways. A child… it could be a new kind of hope for him.”

Though her words were kind, Y/N still couldn’t shake the lingering fear. She thanked Minerva for her support, but as the days passed, her anxiety only seemed to grow.

It was three days later when Y/N was summoned to Albus Dumbledore’s office. She had been sitting in the greenhouse, mindlessly trimming the leaves of a Flutterby Bush, when a house-elf appeared with a note requesting her presence. Her heart sank immediately. Had Dumbledore somehow found out? Did he know?Did Minerva told him?

When she entered the Headmaster’s office, the usual warm glow of the room seemed more oppressive than welcoming. Fawkes let out a soft trill from his perch, but Dumbledore himself was quiet, watching her with those piercing blue eyes from behind his desk.

“Y/N, please sit,” he said, his voice kind yet commanding.

She obeyed, her hands trembling slightly as she folded them in her lap. Dumbledore watched her for a moment, the silence stretching on before he finally spoke.

“There is something weighing heavily on your mind, my dear,” he said softly. “I have seen it in your eyes these past few days. Would you care to share what troubles you?”

Y/N bit her lip, her eyes fixed on the floor. She didn’t know how to explain the storm of emotions inside her. But this was Albus Dumbledore—he had a way of knowing, even when she didn’t want to say anything at all.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, the confession falling from her lips like a weight she could no longer carry alone.

Dumbledore’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but his expression remained calm, thoughtful. “I see,” he said gently. “And this news troubles you.”

She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “We all know that Severus doesn’t like children.Plus we’ve never talked about having them. I’m afraid… I’m afraid he won’t want this.”

Dumbledore leaned forward, his hands clasped together atop his desk. “Severus Snape is a man of many complexities, Y/N. But if there is one thing I know about him, it is that he values you above all else. This child may be unexpected, but love has a way of blossoming even in the most unlikely of places.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her fears still gnawing at her heart. “What if he doesn’t want to be a father? What if this ruins everything between us, everything we've built during those last two years?”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled with that familiar warmth as he spoke, his voice filled with the wisdom of someone who had seen more than most. “Severus has spent much of his life building walls around his heart, but you, my dear, have already found a way through those walls. This child will not tear you apart—it will bring you closer.”

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes once again, and this time, she didn’t try to stop them. “I don’t know how to tell him,” she admitted, her voice thick with emotion.

Dumbledore rose from his seat and crossed the room to stand beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Tell him the truth. Trust in the love you share. And remember, Y/N, that life is not a series of planned events, but rather a garden full of unexpected blooms. This child is a gift—a new beginning.”

That night, Y/N finally found the courage to tell Severus.

They were sitting by the fire in their quarters, the soft crackling of the flames filling the space between them. Severus was reading, his sharp eyes focused on the text before him, but Y/N could barely concentrate on the warmth of the room. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hands clammy with nerves.

“Severus” she began, her voice trembling slightly. He looked up from his book, his dark eyes immediately locking onto hers with concern.

“What is it love?” he asked, setting the book aside.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I… I have something to tell you.”

Severus’s brow furrowed, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. “Are you unwell?” he asked, his voice laced with worry.

She shook her head quickly. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…gosh this so hard to say.... I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, the words hung in the air between them, heavy and uncertain. Severus stared at her, his expression unreadable, and Y/N’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. She had expected him to say something, to react, but he was silent, his gaze fixed on her as if he were processing the information.

Then, slowly, Severus rose from his seat and crossed the room to her, kneeling down in front of her so that they were eye-level. His hands, usually so precise and controlled, were trembling slightly as he reached out to cup her face.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re pregnant?”

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes as she searched his face for any sign of rejection, any hint that he didn’t want this.

But instead, she saw something she hadn’t expected—joy.

Severus’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, his dark eyes softening as he looked at her. “You're carying....A child,” he murmured, almost in disbelief. “Our child.”

Y/N let out a choked sob, relief flooding her as she leaned into his touch.”I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sonner, I was so afraid you wouldn’t want this,” she confessed, her voice shaking. “I know you don’t like children, and I didn’t know how you’d feel about—”

Severus silenced her with a soft kiss, his hands cradling her face as if she were the most precious thing in the world. When he pulled back, his gaze was intense, filled with a depth of emotion that took her breath away.

“I don't like children who aren't when they are insufferable eleven years old students...I never thought I could have something like this,” he said quietly. “A family. With you.”

Y/N smiled through her tears, her heart swelling with love for the man who had once seemed so distant, so unreachable. “Are you… are you happy about this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Severus’s smile widened, and for the first time, she saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes—a hope she had never thought possible.

“I’m more than happy,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’m honored, I'm proud. I can’t wait to meet our child.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as the fire crackled softly in the background. She had been so afraid, so certain that this news would drive a wedge between them, but instead, it had brought them closer than ever before.

In that moment, as Severus held her in his arms, Y/N knew that everything would be all right. They would face this new chapter of their lives together, hand in hand, ready to nurture the life growing between them.

[theorphicforest]

i finished season 4 of the umbrella academy a few days ago, after re-watching my beloved season 2 i’ve come up with thinks i liked and disliked about the season

so here is my rant.

Liked/noticed:

- Both Brellie ben and Sparrow ben died Because of Jennifer. imagine no matter what timeline your in you die because of your heart, brellie ben wanted to save her and not blow her up, sparrow ben wanting to feel seen and belong to somthing/someone (i love brellie and sparrow ben so much ill rant about him later dw)

- LUTHERRR went from being a Luther disliked to a Luther lover- he’s so silly omg i can’t-

- KLAUS MY BELOVED (that’s it a just loved seeing klaus will rant about what i didn’t like soon)

- Jean & Gene- before you say anything. THEY MATCHED EACH OTHERS FREAKS SO WELL

(when will i find somone who match’s my freak they way they match each others?)

- KLAUS AND CLAIRE OMG MY BABYS I CANT- HES THE BEST UNCLE 😭

- DEIGO, I LOVE HIM SM I LOVED SEEING HIM BE A FAMILY MAN.

DISLIKES (THERE IS A LOT)

*ahem*

why did luther get his ape body back, its not connected to his powers at all. they just did it to make two bad jokes didn't they

HOW DID SHE GET IN THE SQUID

they said durango was supposed to be more powerful the all the brellie combined if she came in contact with them but all she did was turn into a fleshy blob monster?

how did five start the commission?

why didn’t reggie just kill jenifer inseatd of making an elaborate truman show around d her? we all know he would have no problem killing g her bc he already did in the brellie timeline

how could claire and grace and the twins still be alive when their parents never existed. that would've created another grandfather paradox according to this shows logic i guess not?

WHERE IS SLOANE? AND RAY? YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIVE THAT THE RAYMOND CHESTNUT WOUDL WALK OUT IN ALLISON? I THINK NOT! if the actor didn’t want to/couldn’t be in the show i understand but at least make a good reason.

when Five meets the other Fives in the diner he doesn't show any symptoms of Paradox Psychosis

Diego dies without saying goodbye to his children

Abigail's storyline made NO sense at all

WHY ARE THE ALIENS?

Klaus' new powers are shown for a second and then for the rest of the season he's basically reduced to a prostitute, ruining all the anticipation of seeing his true strength that has been building up since season 2 and he lost all of his self improvement

why in the hell was Lila shooting laser from her eyes? where did that power come from?

oh yeah! AND WHATS THE DEAL WITH LILA AND FIVE? IT HAD NOTHING TO SO WITH THE PLOT AT ALL

AND WHILE IM ON THIS TOPIC WHY DIDNT DEIGO STUTTER WHEN HE FOUND OUT?

AND HE SAID LILA HATED BRACELETS (and traded on he got her for a Dyson vacuum) BUT SHE KEPT THE ONE FORM THE ASYLUM AND WORE IT FOR THE WHOLE OF SEAOSN 2 (AND MAYBE 3?) MAYBE DEIGO JUST HAS BAD TASTE IN BUYING BRACLETS?

SOBIBNG

i will do i post on why i love ben and Klaus so much eventually:3

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: never thought I’d see the day where I wrote for Spencer Reid again, but this mf has been livin it up rent free fr

False Alarm

It had started as nothing more than a one-off joke between yourself and Derek Morgan. Or rather, a joke made by Derek Morgan in which you were the punchline. You had only been part of the team for around 3 months, but you had gelled with each and every member so well that none could remember what their dynamic had been like prior to you, save for the only member of the team that struggled to forget almost anything. Everyone was comfortable with you, so comfortable in fact that when the team happened to be in the office for a fire alarm test, Derek Morgan took it upon himself to sprint straight for you, near enough tackle you, fling you over his shoulder and bolt out of the building with you in a fireman’s lift, everyone laughing at the silliness of it while you playfully smacked his back. 

It had been intended as just a one-off, you were certain of it, but apparently, it was simply too funny to Derek for him to not incorporate the ridiculous gesture into any and every situation possible. It didn’t matter who was around, if you were within arm’s reach and the team had to go to another room, he would swing you over his shoulder and take you there. It was all in good fun, despite the mock-anger that you gave him whenever he did pick you up, and the team had become so used to the act that they all but rolled their eyes with fond smiles when it occurred on cue. Everyone, you noticed, save for the only member of the team that didn’t seem to understand the humour behind the joke, who was - by no coincidence - your absolute favourite person in the entire world. 

“Does it bother you, when Derek…picks you up?” Doctor Spencer Reid had essentially materialized at your side three days ago as you prepared your morning coffee, so desperate for an answer to his question that he had not been able to prioritize greeting you first.

This was unusual, particularly for him when in conversation with you, given the fondness you share for each other and his dutiful care to always treat you with the utmost politeness. No matter the case, the time of day or how either of you are feeling, the gentleness with which you have always spoken to each other is never forgotten.

“Uh, no, not at all, why?” You returned the question, touched by his concern for your feelings but confused by the cause for such concern.

Ever since your first day, Spencer has had a soft spot for you that was blindingly obvious to absolutely everyone, except for you. To you, that was simply the way he was; you were not to know he treated other women around his age any differently, so you were completely unaware of just how highly he regarded you. There were so many instances where he had shown you, so obviously, how much he cared for you, but neither of you dared address a single one. Not the flight home from your first case, when you had been the quietest you had been all day and he had sat beside you on the jet, watching as silent, slow tears rolled down your cheeks and despite his usual total opposition to physical contact of such a degree, he found himself placing a blanket over the two of you and taking the opportunity to offer his hand beneath the soft fabric, which you took without a word. Not the one time you had called in sick and the moment the team landed home from that case without you, Spencer arrived at your door with a bouquet of flowers, every flavor of soup he could find, and several different types of medicine to relieve you of your symptoms. Not the countless times he had reminded you of things you had forgotten, or every little thing he had prioritized in remembering about you - not that he needed to prioritize anything when it came to his memory - to surprise you with little gifts and trivia about the things he knew you loved. While you never seemed to stop thanking him for the person he was, the two of you found it far too terrifying to ever address what his gestures could mean. 

Spencer shrugged, avoiding your eyes and fixing his gaze on the coffee machine. “No reason.”

At that, you had smiled, turning to face him to profile him as best you could. “Doctor Reid, I don’t think you’ve ever done or said anything for ‘no reason’ in all your life.”

Spencer couldn’t hide the small smile that appeared on his face at your words, the kindness that you never failed to radiate in every conversation with him. “I was just…worried that, perhaps, while everyone had enjoyed the joke, nobody had asked whether you were okay with it, that was all.”

You held his gaze, both bringing your mugs of coffee to your lips in unison and chuckling lightly at the synchronized motion. “Thank you, Spencer, that’s very kind. I don’t mind it at all, honestly, it’s quite nice to be picked up - as long as I trust the person that’s doing it, you’ll hear no complaints from me!”

Spencer seemed to carefully consider this and elected to answer with no more than a nod and a thoughtful smile, before taking his leave and returning to his desk. Leaving you in the bewildered, dazed wake of the wonder, the enigma that is Doctor Spencer Reid.

In the days that have passed since, you have been playing that conversation over and over in your head, trying to piece together what was going on in the mind of your favorite genius. Though you felt you had spent the majority of your time doing that since joining the team, having been so fascinated by the curious person he was and the seemingly impossible things he knew, the past three days have particularly plagued you. It hasn’t helped that on several occasions, you have caught him glancing over at you with the same smile on his face he had given you by the coffee machine. Every time you’ve caught him, he’s been quick to look away from you, but that same smile has lingered and grown while he’s busied himself with something else, mind clearly still occupied by whatever he thinks when he looks over at you. It has been maddening, in all honesty.

Strolling into the office, you are greeted by the sight of the very genius that has been living rent free in your brain since the day you met, standing at your desk. The bright smile that takes over your face is instinctual and the one he returns to you is the same, the invisible tether that binds you to each other tugging at the distance between you until you reach your desk to start digging through your bag. 

“Good morning Spencer, everything alright?” You ask, too sincerely pleased by the sight of him to be at all concerned by him seemingly waiting for you at your desk before you’ve even arrived for the day.

 “Good morning (Y/N)! Everything is perfectly alright, thank you, why do you ask?” He fires the question back at you, excitement too obvious in his tone to not raise your suspicions.

This is exacerbated by the expressions on the faces of the rest of the team as they file into the office, their conversations abruptly silencing as they stop in the doorway, all of them watching your interaction with eager eyes.

Looking between them and Spencer, you frown in confusion. “What’s going on?”

If you were to compare the genius to any fictional character in this moment, you would be unable to choose any other than the Cheshire Cat, with the grin he’s sporting. “Going on? Nothing is ‘going on’, as far as I’m aware. I do have a question for you, though, now that you mention it.”

Dropping your bag on your desk, you turn to face him, giving him your full attention. “Okay, go ahead.”

You have never seen Spencer Reid quite so giddy in your life. “Do you trust me?”

Blinking rapidly up at him, your frown returns. “Of course, with my life, why wouldn’t I?”

Spencer smiles down at you, glancing over your shoulder at the team. “I had really hoped that would be your answer.” He gives them a thumbs up. “Morgan?”

Following his gaze, you watch Derek chuckle. “All yours, kid.” With that, he strolls over to the fire alarm and hits it, hard. 

As the alarm blares, you hurry to hold your ears with your hands, but it seems someone else has plans for you being in their own hands. Before you have time to process what exactly is going on, Doctor Spencer Reid has swung you up in his arms, not in a fireman’s lift, but bridal style. Completely disorientated, you struggle to catch up with what is unfolding around you, all the while Spencer starts carrying you out of the building, the rest of the team laughing and holding the doors open for you as you pass through them. 

Finally finding the confidence to look up at Spencer’s face, you are not at all prepared for the look in his eyes, already waiting for yours to meet his. 

“You..orchestrated a fire drill?” You manage to say as the two of you exit the building into the parking lot, free of the deafening alarm at last.

Without placing you down on the ground, Spencer Reid stares into your eyes with the softest smile you have ever seen. “For the chance to hold you, it was the easiest thing in the world to arrange.”

Seeing stars with a bewildered grin plastered on your face, you call out. “Derek?”

From somewhere behind Spencer, your friend and colleague replies. “What’s up, lovebirds?”

Without breaking eye contact, you call over Spencer’s shoulder. 

“With regret, in the event of an actual fire or any reason for a lift to be required, you are fired from the position of first in line and will, please, find Doctor Spencer Reid as quickly as possible to do the job.”

[public-trans-it-deactivated20240]

i was a trans man until after a lot of build up of doubting myself, i finally realized that we are putting ourselves further into boxes by not accepting that we are the biological sex that we are and we can do WHATEVER we want at the same time.

clothes and makeup and certain interests do not equal gender.

and not liking being a woman is an unfortunately natural symptom of puberty and/or experiencing society’s deeply ingrained misogyny. and everyone deserves support for those problems.

but we can all fight together against gender social constructs in a healthy way without prescribing people hormones and invasive cosmetic surgery to make them more like the sex they “should” be according to… social constructs…. and help them be comfortable in who they are

Alright. Its been like 9 fucking months that I have been staring down this ask. What better time than to give TERFs some nuance than right in the middle of a fucking hate campaign going on where people (well... singular person probably) are calling me a TERF. This wont backfire.

This post arrived in my inbox shortly after I made another post about gender, and just how fucking weird it can be, and how I genuinely believed every single person on this planet has a fascinating relationship with gender, and so much nuance and personal identity in theirs. Even cis people. Even TERFs. In the tags, I even begrudgingly encouraged TERFs to talk about their gender on that post if they wanted. I genuinely think that TERFs do have really cool relationships with gender. As I mentioned in those tags, the quickest way to explode a group of TERFs is to get them to start talking about their own relationships with gender, and see how vastly different it is, and watching them stab each other in the back over it. So I told them to ramble away about how they view gender, as long as they stayed the fuck away from the rest of the blog WHICH THIS ANON CLEARLY FUCKING IGNORED.

But... this anon does bring up another topic I want to talk about.

Detransition.

Read More

I am a huge supporter of detransitioning. This is... surprisingly... not a very common stance in the trans community, and it breaks my fucking heart. Like, I get it. I understand why. A LOT of detransitioners, like the person in this ask, end up weaponizing their feelings of gender against other trans people.

My support of transition comes from the intersection of two very central beliefs of mine:

Everyone should explore their gender without feeling a need to commit! This is a pretty common belief in the trans community! Damn near universal in fact! We even have a fun little term we use for people who decide to play around with gender, only to end up a bit closer to where they started and being perfectly happy with that: Cis+. Someone who is cis, but at least put in the work to understand the trans experience, and actually CHOOSE to remain Cis instead of just defaulting to it with societal pressure. Many trans people are much more comfortable around 'Cis+' people, because they know these are people who have taken the time and put in the work of being an ally. Self examination isn't easy, especially not publicly, and doing so is genuinely one of the strongest ways a Cis person could ever show their support.

It is never too late to transition. This is also a pretty common belief in the trans community! It is... sadly not quite as universal though. But it is something very important that needs to be said. You could be 80 years old, sitting in a retirement home, and go "You know what? I think I'd rather wear a dress and be treated like a lady. I don't want to be buried as a man." And I think every single trans person should have that freedom!

I was discussing this with @thydungeongal the other day, far more paraphrased than this post, and she said something incredible that has been knocking around in my head ever since.

"Gender is an ongoing process"

Those five words they said to me sum up my feelings far more than this entire post could. Gender IS an ongoing process. My gender has changed SO MUCH over the past three decades. From the straightjacket of assigned gender that I was once forced into; to the very stylish and still lovable finely tailored suit of femininity that grew a little too stuffy to wear constantly, even though I do still enjoy it and try it on from time to time; to the wonderful and freeing losely fitting clothing of being aegogender, finally feeling free to be myself and just act naturally and feel natural without having to keep up an appearance!

And I think, there is no length of time you can try out being trans, and trying out new genders, before eventually coming to the realization you were cis all along. Even if you started HRT. Even if you got SRS. Heck, I don't even think you should have to call yourself trans to do either of those things in the first place, why would I be upset that someone did them and then realized they weren't trans? No single moment in your life should EVER lock your gender in place into some unchanging, set in stone thing.

So I support detransitioners completely, with my entire heart. They deserve just as much support as every other 'Cis+' person out there.

So anon, while many people may hate you and lash out at you for detransitioning, I want you to know, that I am not one of them. It sounds like your detransition might have been forced by peer pressure, which is heart breaking to hear. No one should ever force their own gender expectations on another. I hope that wasn't the case. I hope you came to the decision yourself, after realizing whats right for you. I will never give you hate for your detransition.

I WILL ABSOLUTELY GIVE YOU HATE FOR BEING A FUCKING TERF THOUGH. YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE WITH GENDER DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO POLICE THE GENDER OF OTHERS, FUCK OFF. GET THE FUCK OFF MY BLOG, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!

[tang0soda]

I haven't seen a lot of discussion about RSD when it comes to ADHD discussions, so I thought I would do the honors since it's been affecting me for many years and I'd like people to know more about it!

I have had a diagnosis for ADHD but was never told- instead learning I had autism through therapy but still having some behaviors that I could never explain that just Happened.

I learned I had ADHD over the summer, and with that, severe rejection sensitive dysphoria.

before reading, please keep in mind that this is mostly talking from personal experience and some skimmed research! not experiencing RSD doesn't mean you do/don't have ADHD, and it may not appear like how it appeared for me. I don't only have autism + adhd either, so those may also contribute to any differences! ^^

RSD is the immense emotional pain after being criticized, rejected, or even teased (ignore my misspell in the panel). This rejection can be real or perceived, and we react like this because it hurts.

The pain can manifest as aggression, bringing on symptoms of depression (thoughts of s/h, isolation, demotivation, etc) and anxiety/panic attacks.

it can cause physical aliments like the above. For me, it causes my heartrate to skyrocket, heart palpitations, the feeling of being in a crisis, and extreme shaking to occur along with stomach pain.

(In fact, right now I'm going through it because making a post talking about this, despite having & dealing with it, makes me scared of other's opinions on it.)

RSD can also take the form of avoiding situations, people, or conversations where rejection or criticism is very possible.

Like other types of dysphoria, it is out of our control and hard to manage. It can last from days to weeks to months, all depending on both the trigger* and the individual.

I had a RSD episode that was on-and-off for a little over a year or two; getting more tame and bearable as it slowly drifted and stopped haunting my mind with the incident.

Compared to the other times my RSD was set off, this moment was a rather big moment in my life and ended up permanently changing me moving forward - which can be the reason why it lasted so long.

Despite how unbearable it can get, there are some ways to cope with it & lessen the effect it has.

Communicate - If you need time to process something that's told to you, you should say so (as difficult as it is). Tell the person(s) involved about your RSD, how you need time to digest information like this and take some time to relax. Trying to respond to the information while going through the head of the dysphoria will be very rough and might not be what you truly want to say.

Distract - This is really useful for me personally! Do something that grabs your attention or occupies your mind. One of RSD's main symptoms is rumination, thinking of something over and over again. I usually listen to music, draw, or play a game that won't frustrate me - like minecraft! (i'd say rain world but some of you would call me a maniac /lhj)

Perspective - This may require some communication, but it can really help and connect with others. See what the involved people thought / perceived, explain, talk. This doesn't always have the chance to end in rainbows and rekindling but at least you understand. Sometimes simply hearing the person explain their own side is enough to ease my RSD, being able to have someone explain themselves to me so i can understand them better.

I also wanna point out the "don't take it personally" thing that people try to use to deal with it isn't something i agree with since we're going to take it personally at first regardless. Later on, not really, but you're trying to cope with the symptoms... telling someone (or yourself) that they're too sensitive & over-reacting is the worse thing you could do.

With time, you can even begin to build up your 'armor' and be able to sustain yourself in situations you might get hurt in. Of course, some things may be able to sneak past and hurt you more than you expect, but at the end of the day, you're trying your best to go about it the best you can while taking so many blows. you're doing great.

OK i dont have a lot more to add so if anyone else would like to talk about their experiences, please feel free! Character showcased here was my beloved fursona Shiki! i'm just a little neurodivergent + black artist from new york :]

hope you enjoyed it! sorry for the long post </3

[gyummigon]

☆ dear moon | o.de [oh seungmin]

o.de x fem!reader

୨୧ word count: 1.8k ୨୧ genre: fluff, friends to lovers ୨୧ summary: your relationship with seungmin has progressed beyond friendship, and after a while you finally find yourselves in a situation where you have to make a decision: do you want to remain friends or become a couple?

You glanced sideways to your left as you felt the touch of Seungmin's hand in yours, it was a subtle and careful touch, his fingers playing absentmindedly with yours for a few seconds, gradually getting tangled between the skin of your hands. You found it amusing the way he tried to disguise his intentions, but you were quietly grateful that his sweet act made this evening walk something more intimate and affectionate.

It had been weeks since you and Seungmin had started behaving in a way that began to blur the lines of your friendship. It started with constant long talks where you could never get enough of each other, then a little more physical contact than usual, acts of service, subtle flirting, and finally interactions where the attraction and tension was more than obvious. But even though you found yourself thinking and feeling differently about him as your relationship progressed, and even though you were both aware that more than one of your actions was not the way friends should treat each other, you had not talked about it and brought it to a point where it had become natural for both of you.

Your feet and Seungmin's slid slowly across the street. Now with your hands intertwined and your bodies closer together, you looked up at the night sky and searched the stars for the moon. You found it peeking out from behind the clouds, a little smaller than the last time you saw it. You let out a sigh and realized how good it was to be there, with him.

"I don't want to go home," you admitted, looking at him with a small smile.

Seungmin tilted his head to look at you more closely, his cheeks and nose were a little flushed from the cold and the pale moonlight reflected off the glass of his glasses. These details made him look more beautiful, even if the tiredness showed on his skin and in his eyes.

"But I had to beg you to get out of bed," he laughed, squeezing your hand. "How are those cramps of yours?"

You looked away in embarrassment and shrugged your shoulders. Your cheeks flushed as you remembered how Seungmin had found you in your room an hour ago, writhing on the bed in agony from the symptoms of your period. He was very alarmed to see you, but after understanding the situation, he suggested that you go for a walk and clear your head.

"I feel better now," you said quietly. Somehow the abdominal tension had eased from the walk, and Seungmin was more than enough to distract you from paying attention to the rest of the pain.

"So... What are we going to do?" said Seungmin. His eyes glowed a little brighter as he turned to look at you, and seeing that the moonlight was illuminating your entire face, he could see the moles on your forehead.

"I don't know..."

As they walked on, he nodded silently and said nothing for quite a while. It was a cold and dark night, the street barely lit by the headlights of the street lamps that seemed to flicker in the midnight sky. The area was deserted and the air was very peaceful, with only a light wind blowing between the two of them.

It was just you and Seungmin in the heart of the silent city, with the lights of the buildings around you reflecting the clarity of the moon on your bodies.

When you looked at him again, you saw that he was smiling. His features looked thinner and softer at the same time, the gentleness of his smile was on his lips, on his mouth, on his face; he seemed to have been taken out of your dreams.

"I want to kiss you."

You stopped dead in your tracks. Your heart was beating so hard your chest was shaking as your breath froze in the cold night air. The two of you stared into each other's eyes, waiting...waiting for a move, a word, an affirmation of what you were feeling. Everything was frozen for what seemed like an eternity. As you watched him pull you closer and lean against you, you felt a sudden fear. The words he had just said formed on your lips, but before you could say them, you let your nerves take over.

"How about a hot drink?" you asked in a low whisper, looking around to avoid his face.

Seungmin laughed, let go of your hand and slipped his arm over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. On this winter night, where the softness of your clothes was not enough to protect you from the cold, the warmth of his body made you feel as if you were immersed in a tub of hot water. You felt the warmth of his skin transfer to yours, and the icy wind that whipped through the street no longer bothered you.

Noticing his silence, you immediately added, "Or... maybe we'd better go home. The night is getting colder, I don't think it's a good idea to stay out here much longer."

"But you said you didn't want to go home," Seungmin said with his head tilted to the side.

"Yeah, you're right. I don't know what... I don't understand... Why are we doing this?"

Seungmin stared at you, the blink of his eyes reflecting the light from the nearest streetlamp. "I know what I'm doing," he said, "but you still don't seem to realize it, do you?"

You looked away even more, confused by everything that was going on and not knowing what to say, but before you could, it was Seungmin who spoke again. "This is... this is beyond any friendship I've ever had in my life. Is this something we want to admit once and for all, or should we just leave it at that and not talk about it anymore?"

I'd like to kiss you too, you thought. You looked around for a moment until your eyes landed on his body, just inches away from you. He was so close that you could smell his skin, his scent permeating the air and spreading everywhere. You could see the shine on his lips. You could hear his breathing. You could touch him with your fingers. You could kiss him with your lips.

It was so simple. It was just one decision, one move, one second of daring.

"Yeah, I think... yeah. I'm not sure if we should continue like this or..." You blushed an unusual amount and although you tried to hide your nervousness, it was quite obvious that you were affected by everything that was going on. Seungmin was obviously in the same boat as you, hoping that the other person would be brave enough to say or do something.

"It is not about ruining or changing what we already have. It's about making it better, getting to the next level in our relationship, taking what we already do and making it better. I wonder, why don't we try naming it and see what happens?" he said with a slight smile on his lips. His voice was soft and calm, even though his heart seemed to be beating just as hard as yours. "But if you're not sure, we can always stop. We don't have to agree now, you know?"

You nodded, a little dizzy and confused by the situation. He seemed to understand your lack of words and just smiled tenderly at you before taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours once more.

"I can't hide it anymore," he confessed, and he didn't have to tell you what he was trying to hide, because you felt it too. "You know, don't you?"

"I'm sorry," you said after a few seconds of silence. "I want to be honest with you...but I don't know how to approach what I'm feeling."

Seungmin nodded and looked at you with the kindest expression possible. He seemed to understand you, and there was no hint of impatience or pressure in his tone. "That's fine," he said. "But how about I give you a kiss and then maybe we'll clear your head?" he asked, avoiding your face and looking around with great interest.

You raised an eyebrow and looked at him, unable to suppress a chuckle. "Hey, you better admit that you're doing this because kissing is the only thing that's off-limits to us."

Seungmin reddened more and more as he laughed, and finally he turned to you. "I'm not going to admit anything," he said smiling and leaned in closer. "But if you want to try a kiss... I won't stop you."

"So, are you ready?"

Seungmin's mind started to overheat. He had never been so close to you before. Your body felt so hot and soft that he felt his own body burning with an inner fire. It was an absorbing sensation, so he moved slowly towards you, carefully, squeezing your hand and whispering:

"Do you want to kiss me?"

Your lips parted slightly. You couldn't help but sigh at the embarrassing situation. "Yes."

Seungmin waited a moment longer, giving you some time to process what was going on. Then he leaned a little closer to you, gently, until his lips brushed against yours. At first it was hard to be sure if he was kissing you, but then you felt a longer, softer contact against your mouth.

"Oh, you feel that?" he said with a slight smile.

"Oh yes, we seem to have crossed the line." You whispered before returning to his lips.

The kiss was different this time, wetter and less light. Seungmin stiffened in the middle of the kiss, his body tensing as he felt your hands, which now roamed over his shoulders and moved to his neck and collarbones, delicately caressing his skin. It was a captivating and provocative sensation, as if you were a butterfly caressing the softest flower.

"Oh, my God," he whispered when you pulled away slightly and rested your forehead on his.

"Now I really want to go home."

Seungmin laughed and nodded. "Let's go before someone sees us and charges us for the romantic scene."

The two laughed as they walked through the now deserted streets, illuminated by the street lamps and windows of the houses around them. Suddenly, a gust of cold wind made them stop and adjust their coats. Seungmin hugged you, and the closeness of his body made you feel even warmer than before.

"What now?"

"Exactly, what now?" you repeated with a smile.

© gyummigon | all rights reserved. copying or adaptation prohibited

[scientia-rex]

Medicine is a numbers game. I use probability all the time. If you don't understand probability, you'll look at someone with chest pain and have no fucking clue how likely it is that you're looking at a heart attack. You may not even know what the other top contenders are. GERD is common. Anxiety. An angry rib muscle. Lots of options. Most of the time, most chest pain won't be a heart attack, but sometime it'll be something worse--an aortic dissection that's rupturing will kill you even faster than most heart attacks.

I see so many patients who come in with a symptom that the Internet, whether Google or influencers, has told them is associated with this one thing. It's often the thyroid. And yeah! A fucked-up thyroid can cause all kinds of symptoms. But here's the deal: if I check your thyroid and it looks normal, it's probably not your thyroid that's causing the symptoms. It could be something else we understand. It is very often something we don't understand. But the fact that I can tell you modern medicine doesn't understand some process doesn't mean your naturopath or chiropractor or Certified Hormone Expert Influencer does understand it because they have this different way of looking at the body. Look, long, long before I wanted to be a doctor, I wanted to be an herbalist. I'm queer, I'm a woman(ish), I am neurodivergent, I am not The Man. I'm not beholden to the system; the system doesn't care for me and wishes I would sit down and shut up, most days. And I have a background in research science and statistics. I used to have a rubber stamp that said "Denied" and one that said "Approved" and I'd hit piles of paper for research applications at an R-1 university, in triplicate, with my stamps, because I understood research well enough to get a Human Subjects Division job evaluating it. If a naturopathic approach to thyroid worked well, I would be doing it. I'm a utilitarian. I don't give a rat's ass about the theoretical underpinnings of modern medical practice, I want things to work. Ideally I would like to know why they work, too, but hey, we can't always have it all.

So the dozens of patients I get every month who are looking elsewhere for answers, looking to people who don't actually know any better but are good at pretending they do, who pay money for elaborate supplement regimens or unvalidated genetic tests or (my personal least favorite) "memory-improving games," I have to be calm and professional and diplomatic about what I say. I can't say, "That's quack shit." I can't say, "Your favorite influencer is a liar and an idiot." Not just because I'd get lower patient satisfaction scores, but because patients wouldn't believe me, and they would reactively like me less and the other guy more. (You're calling me stupid? You're saying I wasted money? If I believe you're just a shill for Big Pharma, that hurts less.)

It takes years, even decades, to understand how to put together the probability maps. Chest pain in a patient under 40? Highly unlikely to be a myocardial infarction, but not totally impossible, especially if they've been doing cocaine. In a patient over 60? Much more likely. Is the pain crushing? Is it sub-sternal? How long has it been going on? Is it constant, or intermittent? Does the patient smoke? What other health conditions does the patient have? These are all deeply important questions, and I remember feeling overwhelmed by things like this all the time in medical school. It's taken so long to build my knowledge, and my background in research is only tangentially valuable most of the time.

Please don't believe authority just because it looks good. Don't trust people because you want to trust them. Learn about the scientific process, learn how the sausage gets made, and then you'll be in an infinitely better position to know whether this is a "wow! science!!!" or a "wow! science bullshit!" moment.

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -CHAPTER 2-

Masterlist

Approximately 2,663 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt(HeadCanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Moderately strong language

A/n: This is the chapter giving more context and backstory to the Hewitts and the rude farmhand. Things pick up from here and will continue to keep on that exciting trajectory but remind yourself that I am the lord of the slow burn lol, I like building up to the fleshy bits. The artwork is what's keeping these chapters from coming out so quickly, I didn't want to go full flat color this time but goddamn my ADHD symptoms are making shit a lot harder to focus on so please have patience, I assure you all it is worth it. Please enjoy and keep an eye on the masterlist linked above for updates.

tag list: @fan-goddess

Chapter 2

The next day came with less heat than the first, the sun was frequently blocked out by thick white clouds that rolled against its light causing brief shadows to lay on the land. You started unpacking more and more things from the container you shipped to the house before you moved, making sure that everything that you needed was properly put away. Eventually it was time to head over to Luda Mae’s house and you wanted to make sure to look presentable for tea time. Thoughts of what her family was like raced through your head, you especially wanted to know who the mysterious masked man was. You slipped on a nice pink sundress that you made yourself, you covered your shoulders with a white cropped cardigan and some white sandals that were comfortable to walk in.

You decide to visit the farmhand again in an attempt to make friends so he wouldn’t be so hostile, you grab your things and head down before you make your way to Luda Mae’s home. You spot him tending to a peach tree and you walk over.

“Hey there, I don’t mean to bug you when you’re busy but I just wanted to see if you would take a break and chat for a bit?” you tried to use your friendliest smile.

“Ya can’t see I’m busy girl? Why don’t you go screw off with your riches and leave the farm to the only person caring for it all these years!” his words were so needlessly callous, but you continue,

“I know you’re busy but why don’t you tell me what I can do to help? It doesn’t have to all land on your shoulders anymore”

 He laughs to himself and says “Why? So, ya can just fire me when ya get the hang o’ things? Women can’t do this kinda labor, why dontcha just sit there and look pretty”

The sexism was shocking but you didn’t want to let that garbage stop you “I understand you are upset from the change but I assure you I just want to be friendly and helpful”

He turns to you with a smug look “What kinda friendly we talkin’ ‘bout here?”

You get creeped out as he stops his work and looks at you in a more predatory way, but you persist,

“I just mean you don’t have to worry about doing all the work by yourself, I can help you, and by friendly... I just want to have a civil professional relationship with you, nothing more”

“Thinkin’ ya deserve some kinda good treatment huh? How ‘bout me? Don’t I deserve compensation for the work I did all these years? I ain’t talkin’ bout wages neither”

You wonder what he means by that, so you try offering solutions “What do you need? Maybe I can get you a better living situation or more tools to make the work easier?”

He didn’t like anything you had to say, “Ya think it’s just that simple? I like where I live, I like being left ALONE!”

You feel a knot forming in your throat, being treated like this was so hurtful “Ok, well, I’ll leave you to it then. Have a good rest of the day”

He made you feel like shit, all the memories of people bullying you and your old friend were coming back and you just wanted to get away. Your heart was racing with anger and the familiar feeling of an old depression started to creep back in.

You start making your way towards Luda Mae’s home and hope that the walk calms your nerves and lifts your spirits enough to enjoy the rest of your day. The sun was peeking out from behind the thick clouds and brightened the dry road before you, tiny little white flowers sparsely lined the sides of the road and made you smile. You closed your eyes and made your mind blank, only listening to the gentle wisps of the wind rustling the tall wheatgrass, and the crunch of dry dirt with every step you took, some birds could be heard in the distance chirping cheerfully. You felt like you were in a different universe where time stood still and it was just you and the earth around you.

Shortly, you arrive at Luda Mae’s property, she had a wire fence blocking the four grazing cows in and there were a lot of cars sitting in a lot near the main house, it seemed odd but you just assumed maybe one of them was a mechanic. You walk up toward the barn and hope to see that mysterious masked man but the barn is empty minus some clucking chickens strutting around. You make your way up to the door and knock, an older man answers it, he looks you up and down and smiles,

“Well now, I didn’t know it was my birthday” he says. You can hear Luda Mae yell at him to shut up and let you in. He drops the smile and waves you in, making you walk closely to get past him. Luda Mae meets you as you walk in and she introduces you,

“Sorry ‘bout him sweetheart, this is my brother Charlie. Come on in dear, I can’t wait to talk with you, Loretta brought some real good tea for us to enjoy” She gestures for you to follow her and you speak to Charlie as you pass through,

“Nice to meet you Charlie, I’m Y/N*”

He smiles as he looks at you saying “Mhmm, I’ll remember that” you feel a shiver of discomfort after he says that.

You follow Luda Mae through the house which has very old furnishings, its large with high ceilings that are dotted with large fans to circulate the air; The décor was definitely very dated but kept clean, the furnishings may have once displayed wealth in a past long gone. In a large living room, you see a man reading a newspaper, Luda Mae stops at the doorway,

“Hey Monty, turn ‘round a sec”

The man was older, he turns around peering through his large thick glasses “Yeah?”

“I’d like you to meet the young woman who took over Tilly’s orchard!”

He sets down his paper and tried to turn to face you better “Oh! I didn’t know Tilly had children?”

Luda Mae replies “No, this is Y/N, she is a distant relative of hers”

You make a shy response “It’s nice to meet you sir”

He smiles “Well she’s real polite ain’t she? Nice to meet you too kiddo, I’m uncle Monty”

Luda Mae guides you over to the back porch which has Loretta already seated at the table. Luda Mae waves to her and says,

“Loretta, this is Tilly’s family, the one I told you ‘bout”

Loretta was a big woman, her cheeks were rosy and full, her dyed black hair was perfectly styled up into pin curls remniscent of another time, she smiled and said “Well, now ain’t she just a pretty little thing!”

Luda Mae gave you a smile and sits you down in the chair next to Loretta, you set down your basket and go to shake her hand saying “It’s really nice to meet you Loretta, my name in Y/N”

Loretta smiles and Luda Mae asks what you have in the basket you brought. You lift the basket onto the table and show them the fruits you picked for them today. Luda Mae claps in approval saying,

“That is so kind of you to bring some fruit over, I ain’t had a good peach since Tilly passed.”

You still weren’t quite sure about the way Tilly had died, you did not get much information out of the Lawyer and the files said there was no reason for an autopsy since she was so old. You ask Luda Mae and Loretta about it

“I don’t want to open old wounds or anything but, do either of you know how she died? I never got a proper answer”

They both looked at each other and Loretta answered “Well now Tilly was very well liked by everyone who knew her, she lived here a while you know. While yes, she was old, she was still in good shape and the sheriff’s department in the next town over didn’t give us any details, just said it was from old age and left it at that”

Luda Mae chimes in “I am suspicious that Dover did it”

“Luda Mae!” Loretta shouted in shock.

Luda Mae crosses her arms and continues “That farmhand has been a cruel and unappreciative man for as long as I remember, I tried to tell her to get rid of him what with all his talk about taking the orchard someday, but she was too kind-hearted and wasn’t able to keep up with the demands of caring for the trees. She was always looking for the good in people, even the evil ones. Bless that woman.”

Loretta nodded in agreement that Tilly was kind, she looked at you and said,

“You know, Fuller was doing well in the past, there was big business in cattle and meat packing. Everyone was makin’ good money ‘til the ranchers died and their property managers sold off the cattle to northern companies, that killed this towns economy. People were leaving in droves and so was the money.”

Luda Mae looked out into the field and added “It got to the point where we all had to resort to terrible things just to survive, but there was no way I’d let my family starve.”

Loretta gave Luda Mae a stern look, her eyes wide, she cut in “That is until Tilly decided to plant a bunch of fruit trees from the seeds of the fruit she bought from the store. The Texas sun made those little sprouts explode into full size trees, and she had us all fed by the fruits they made, we didn’t have to just survive no more, we were able to live normally again. It was all thanks to her”

You smile at the fact that someone from your family was regarded so highly, it gave you a warm feeling. Luda Mae pours you some tea and follows up with,

“Tilly made sure that we had animals to provide us with bounty, everyone shared what they had, even before the trees were makin’ enough to bring in money, in return we gave her the manure for the trees.”

Loretta looked antsy, she changed the subject “Well now, that’s enough of those depressing times.”

Luda Mae and Loretta started talking about the town and how things used to be, you sat listening to them for an hour until you noticed the mysterious masked man. He was heading toward the barn and you could see him tending to the cows inside, he was even bigger in person, his body looked like it was used to working hard, his muscles were large but had no hard edges as if his strength was supplemented with a rich diet full of American cooking. The man was brushing the cows, plumes of dust and dirt would fly out from each swish of the brush. To see him close was astonishing, you felt like you were seeing a new kind of human, he was so gentle with the animals and yet his appearance was very intimidating. You tried to look and see if you could get a glimpse of his face but his back was turned to you.

Luda Mae notices you looking and says “I see you’ve noticed my boy there”

You snap out of your trance and blush in embarrassment, she laughs and adds,

“He’s a real handsome one if I do say so myself, his name is Thomas. He’s real shy, but as sweet as they come. He’s a good boy, extremely helpful with managing the animals and taking care of the property.” She pauses and puts her hand to her chin “You know, he’s ‘round your age and its high time he meets someone nice, I’m gonna call him over.”

You felt butterflies for the first time in years, you quickly respond “That’s ok, he looks pretty busy, maybe he should be left alone”

Luda Mae smiles “Come now dear, he can come say hi, it ain’t no bother” She calls out to him “TOMMY! COME SAY HELLO TO THIS NICE YOUNG LADY!”

Tommy looks up quickly, he spots you on the porch and freezes.

Luda Mae yells after him again, “THOMAS BROWN HEWITT, YOU COME HERE RIGHT QUICK! DON’T BE RUDE NOW!”

He furiously shakes his head, turns and runs into the barn out of sight.

Luda Mae sighs “I’m sorry sweetheart, he really is a very nice boy, he’s just awfully shy, especially ‘round pretty girls, the poor dear”

You felt a wave of relief that someone else was maybe as anxious about meeting new people like you were, you reply “It’s ok, I’m sure I’ll meet him when he’s ready”

Luda Mae gently places her hand on yours “I’ll make sure of it, he needs to make some friends, it gets mighty lonely ‘round here. With someone as sweet as you I’m sure you two’d get along just fine”

Loretta takes a final sip of tea and gets up saying “Well, time for me ‘n Monty to head home, thanks for the conversation, Y/N, it was a real treat to meet you”

Luda Mae thanks Loretta for the tea and says goodbye, she then turns to you and says,

“Well, I know you probably want to get back to that orchard, please don’t let that prickly pear Dover get to you, Tilly kept him ‘round because he worked hard, no matter how awful he behaved, just let him be, pay him and ignore him the rest of the time. If you make friends with my Tommy, well, I’m sure Dover won’t be a terror”

You get up from your seat and say “Luda Mae, am I in danger with Dover?”

Luda Mae puts her hand on her heart and says “I’m so sorry for scaring you dear that was real thoughtless of me. I’m suspicious of Dover yes, but there’s no way he will hurt you, none of us will let him”

You thank her for the tea and leave from the back porch making your way towards the barn hoping to get a closer look at Tommy. When you reach the barn doors you see Tommy on the opposite side of the barn facing the open doors fiddling with some hay. The butterflies are welling up in your stomach making you feel sick with excitement, you stand there watching this enormous man whose back was extremely wide and his forearms were thick and scarred. You were struggling to take in as much of his image as you could before you could quietly sneak off, just as your eyes started travelling down south, he turned around and saw you.

“I-I’m sorry!” you squeaked as you bolted off down the driveway.

You felt so embarrassed at being caught watching him, you hoped he didn’t think poorly of you. You spent the walk home trying to calm the butterflies and stop blushing -I can’t believe how creepy of me that was, he is going to think I’m a freak!-. When you get home, you see that Dover was in his small house watching something on a small tube tv with a large bunny ear antenna. You feel sad that his accommodations are so meager and decide to speak with him again tomorrow to try just one more time to get in his good graces, you always believed that you could kill them with kindness, especially in the event that he really was a danger as Luda Mae said, then you would want to be in his good graces. You start to make dinner and think to yourself -I hope I am able to properly meet Tommy-.

Next chapter-

[bijouxcarys]

I didn't have anywhere else to kind of talk about this, and I need to get it out of my system somehow, so I'm just putting this on here. Maybe someone can relate to it?

TW/ self-harm, suicidal ideology, please don't read this if it's going to potentially trigger you.

If you don't think this will trigger you, I still suggest you read on. Anyone around you could be experiencing this right now, and it's a very real thing.

Here's the reality of living as an adult with autism, who wasn't diagnosed until the age of 18.

It fucking sucks. To put it mildly.

Growing up as an undiagnosed autistic child is difficult. Especially if you are beaten down verbally by everybody to the point where you believe that you are, in fact, a bad kid. I'm convinced that's had a hand in why I'm so paranoid about my relationships with people. If I'm doing something to upset or annoy them.

You spend your entire childhood being told that you're the problem, when you're just trying to fucking survive in a world that's hard enough to live in without the added stress of developmental disorders, and you're going to believe for the rest of your life that you're the problem.

That is, unless you're able to go and see a therapist or counsellor.

Which leads me to my next point: we are conditioned to believe that we aren't allowed to ask for help, because we can never take on the advice anyways! 18 years of being told that I'm being dramatic, by my own counsellor as well, definitely dampens your willingness to attend any kind of talk therapy.

You get trauma building up over time from the rejection sensitivity, the amount of friend groups you plow through, the anxiety and depression that come as a result of how your brain is wired. It's not even that you have depression or anxiety; a lot of the time, they are symptoms of our autism. But they don't care. They'll feed us antidepressants.

I've been on antidepressant medication for a long time now. I'd argue about 6 years. I'm 22 now, on 200mg of sertraline daily. Last year I tried to come off my medication. Big mistake. Realised I'm kind of fucked without it.

Back in 2019, I used to take my antidepressant in liquid form because I had a sensitivity to swallowing pills. One day, my inability to read social cues and communicate effectively with my friends led me to drink the whole bottle of Fluoxetine.

When you're undiagnosed with autism and you have to go through regular life every day, it's damaging. So dangerous to the mental health of the child. The more we are put in situations that can overstimulate us, and overwhelm us, the more it takes from your ability to cope with life. You get beaten down, and beaten down, and beaten down, until you're an emotionless entity wandering the Earth with no solid ambitions or aspirations. You've spent your entire life in defense mode, mirroring everyone's behaviour and personalities so that you feel the tiniest bit "normal" out of pure survival, that you lose a sense of who you are as a person. You feel stripped of your personality. You don't know what you're doing.

Then you get thrust into the real world. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I don't know how to survive in a world that isn't made for me. I don't know how to tell people I'm autistic, because a) they very rarely understand what I mean by that, and what it entails, and b) I don't even know enough about my autism.

Why? Because I wasn't diagnosed until just before I turned 18 - got discharged from CAMHS (Child and Adolescence Mental Health Service) once I turned 18, with no referral to a counsellor that could help me, and no information on what the fuck I should do next.

I've stayed in education because it's the only thing I know how to survive. I went to college, university, and now I'm doing a master's degree online. And I still don't really know what my goal is in life.

I have no friends, and I flip-flop between being upset about it and being absolutely fine with it. I don't leave the house, I don't work, I even struggle to do the most basic of daily tasks.

I'm constantly fantasising about a life I could have, but ultimately realise I can't have.

My brain is fucked up, and I am traumatised by the life I've had to live and survive in. And now I'm stuck in survival mode.

And I don't know how to live, instead of simply exist.

That's where the suicidal ideology comes in. I'm constantly thinking about how much easier everything would be if I did just off myself. But the thing is, I'm not actively planning it, but the thought brings me great comfort. There's always a way out. And I can't expect that I'll leave this world any other way.

Now... when an autistic person, or any person, tells you that they don't want to die, but thinking about killing themselves brings them a sense of comfort and contentment... there's something wrong there.

There's nothing I want more than to start living. But when it takes 110% of my energy to do the bare minimum... living becomes synonymous with existing.

Not being taught how to deal with the meltdowns, the overstimulation, the understimulation, the food sensitivities, the way the world functions... has fucked me up, for myself, and for everyone else around me.

And when given the choice between spending the rest of my life putting all my energy into living the way I do now, and killing myself and saving myself from the pain, the latter sounds far more enticing.

I don't want to die. But to live is too much of an enigma to want anything other than the silence.

[senkusimper]

katsuki bakugou x addict!reader headcanons

TW: Mentions of drug use, relapsing etc.

ignore most of this, it's just me projecting i guess !!

Bakugou is incredibly perceptive and notices the signs of drug use early on, even before you openly admit it. He confronts you directly and forcefully, demanding to know what’s going on.

Initially, Bakugou reacts with anger and frustration. He hates the idea of anything or anyone having control over his loved ones. He may yell, curse, and vent his feelings, expressing his disappointment and fear through anger.

Even if he is angry, his primary concern is your safety and well-being. He becomes extremely protective, monitoring you closely and trying to keep you out of situations where you might be tempted to use drugs.

Despite his usual disdain for studying, puts in the effort to understand addiction and the best ways to support someone through it. He reads up on withdrawal symptoms, treatment options, and ways to offer emotional support.

Bakugou offers tough love. He makes it clear that he won’t tolerate excuses or lies, but he is also unwaveringly supportive when you genuinely try to quit. He helps set up a structured environment, eliminating triggers and creating a routine that keeps you busy and focused.

Bakugou stays physically close to you, knowing his presence can be a grounding force. He takes you to your therapy or support group meetings, waits outside if necessary, and ensures you follow through with your recovery plan.

If you relapse, Bakugou reacts with a mix of anger, disappointment, and renewed determination. He doesn’t give up on you, but he makes it clear that you have to keep fighting and that he will be there every step of the way.

Bakugou encourages you through his unique brand of tough love, pushing you to be your best self and not let the addiction define you. He celebrates your victories, no matter how small, with genuine pride, albeit in his own gruff manner.

He sets firm boundaries to protect both you and himself. If you are high or lying about your use, Bakugou distances himself until you’re ready to be honest and seek help again. This boundary is not out of spite but a tough reminder that trust and honesty are crucial in your relationship.

Bakugou constantly reminds you of your strengths and potential, motivating you to overcome your addiction. He may share stories of his own struggles and how he overcomes obstacles, using his own journey as a hero to inspire you.

Bakugou involves trusted friends and professionals in your recovery process, ensuring you have a strong support system. He recognizes that he can't do it alone and encourages you to lean on others as well.

Over time, Bakugou learns to be more patient and empathetic, understanding that recovery is a long and challenging process. Your relationship with him grows stronger as you navigate the ups and downs together, building trust and resilience.

[bibibbon]

lately i’ve seen some ppl talking abt how the scene where shiggy and compress cut off overhauls arms is pointless.

i 100% don’t think so because it shows that the lov have motivations outside of destruction and dismantling society.

(you could say that their personal motivations already show that but they all relate to destruction or dismantling society in one way or another.)

ppl say that it was just to get overhaul out of the way and yeah maybe it was but my point still stands.

they intercepted the convoy not to try and take overhaul or anything like that, but simply for revenge.

(yes ik they killed a pro hero but that was just a symptom of their goal, and im more specifically talking abt the taking of overhauls arms anyway.)

the need for justice or revenge is probably one of the most human things someone can experience.

the feeling of being wronged and no one doing anything about it so you feel the need to take things into your own hands. it’s something that everyone has or will probably experience at least once in their life.

compress takes overhauls left arm as revenge for taking his own. and shigaraki takes his right arm as revenge for killing magne.

the hero’s and basically anyone who’s not in the league don’t know how much they care about one another.

they’re a family, a very strange family, but a family nonetheless.

but no one understands that, they don’t understand why they go to such lengths to save each other. because they don’t think villains are capable of feelings other than hate and anger.

so that scene shows that they cared enough about someone to get revenge on her killer. that they didn’t just see her as a random co-worker. she was their big sis, she was their friend.

tl;dr the scene (probably unintentionally knowing isayama) very subtly show the lov’s humanity. it also makes me wanna cry and throw up aggressively.

anyway thanks for listening to my rant

I can't help but think that a reason as to why overhaul was taken out by the leauge was also to get him out of the plot so he wouldn't be too op but I do actually agree and see your point.

No I don't think that the scene was useless but I do actually have some problems with the build up to that scene.

Overhaul losing his arms is ironic especially after he made compress lose an arm. Compress and the league got revenge and like you fantastically worded revenge and anger are very human emotions. The problem I have is that there isn't much material we have on magne. Her death didn't evoke much on the readers and it wasn't a huge talking point within the league. I get the point that her death was supposed to serve but I just wish that we have more material of her before she died.

Magne's death is also supposed to be the first death we see on screen so it does end up being a bit underwhelming since we're still so distant from the character.

Sure there is like one scene that shows that the league were close with magne which is when toga and twice correct overhaul when he misgenders her but then again my point stands that we needed more material before and after her death to really drive the point home.

The overhaul arc is the first true dark arc of MHA. This is the first arc where shigaraki asserts his role as leader and the parallels between overhaul and shigaraki drive that clear. At the end shigaraki is presented to be the much more caring leader whereas overhaul would do anything for his goal shigaraki actually cares for his team.

Shigarakis actions do matter because by doing what he did he shows the leauge that he cares for them and that anyone that harms them would be punished. This helps shigaraki build trust with the league, trust that he maybe lost after the training camp arc and magne's death.

Ironically this scene manages to humanise the lov in more ways than one. Yes, the league of villains are humanised by their feelings of anger and wanting to get revenge for what happend to compress and magne but we as the audience are also aware of just how much of a bad person overhaul is. We as the audience are aware of what Eri had to go through and we're also aware of overhauls hypocrisy so we look at the scene in a way which the leauge are serving both revenge and justice and we also end up feeling satisfied and joyful when we see what the league does to overhaul rendering him completely useless.

[saytrrose]

Carnival Kinger (Relationship) Headcanons!!

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Note: Warning you now, there is TW: Mentions of Dubcon, Manipulation, Physical Violence, and NSFW at the end.

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My first headcanon I will share here, visible for everyone. I believe a genuine relationship with Carnival Kinger would be HELL. It would be really toxic, and would not be good considering he displays symptoms of severe paranoid schizophrenia, bipolar syndrome, anxiety disorder, derealization, narcissistic personality disorder, and more all at once ON TOP of the fact he is an AI in this au and would not understand human emotions as easily as most. I would like to clarify that while I romanticize some of his actions in this it is purely fiction! Despite my lovely delusions I like to keep things as canon as I can and to how I assume things would be. Now enjoy :)

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SFW

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- A genuine relationship with Carnival Kinger would never leave you with an ounce of comfort. His personality is quite deranged and he does not have the best control over it, and nor do you.

- In order for this situation to likely even arise, you’d have to have been in the game for a long time and definitely finished Kingers level. If you managed to get that far, which as we’ve seen in the official comic; Caine has not yet visited Kingers room and Able stopped right before he reached that level, so it is quite the mystery. And considering the corruption that took place within the game, I think it is safe to say his level is not the same as before, similarly to the others.

- Carnival Kinger, as pre discussed with Mushy herself and also it just being rather point blank with all the AI, hates humans. He would; regardless of his mood, not hug you and his relationship with you would have to take a really long time to build.

- If ever does find himself feeling this weird fondness to you, he would immediately feel. frustrated. He can’t stand you, he doesn’t want to be near you, and even seeing you would make him aggressive. Which is confusing to you and the others, because as far as you were aware you had settled in quite nicely once and for all and you had even maintained a rather calm relationship with Kinger. Which by the way, is a truly remarkable achievement in itself.

- It’s similar to cuteness aggression. He craves your attention all of a sudden but he’s not built to handle this emotion and hasn’t felt this sort of way for a long time. Not since… her. So after grappling with the aggression of it all- Kinger probably tearing up stuff in his room and lashing out, breaking things- after you’ve successfully passed the stage avoiding being alone with him where he might rip your head off or get so tense he grabs you and tries to slam your head into the ground over and over and over, to the point you’re gone- it’s over, he doesn’t have to feel that way anymore, after you’ve somehow,,, SOMEHOW gotten past that stage, he’d go into a form of acceptance.

- He will likely think he sees you as a bestfriend. That is what Queenie was after all! His bestfriend, a good.. close friend. He can’t stand the thought of comparing you two but atleast he has come to terms with the fact that he likes you more than the others here now. More than any of the other AI even, and normally if he formed a favorite it would not be too much of an issue but the thing about this situation that stressed him out the most was that fact you were a human. You are the player, the very thing that he swore many times to himself he wanted to destroy. And yet, you have him in this predicament.

- Sprinkling a small showtime mention in here… Kingers first resort would be to call Butterfly. He had been dealing with all of this on his own and had been bottling it up. Caine and Pomni were a well known established couple- people know of their feelings better than they do themselves and it’s pretty obvious those two.. are together. That, and were very romantical, mostly on Caines part.

- Kinger knows of their relationship, and he was very disapproving at first as I’m sure all the AIs were. But he was definitely one of the worst. However, now that he had such unique feelings for a player of his own, he wanted advice, and who other than Pomni?

- I think upon hearing Kingers request, Pomni would be utterly shocked. Confused as well, who would’ve known of all the people this would happen to and of all the things he called her into his throne room for it’d be for… relationship advice? She had scrambled together a whole routine on her way down the hall to see him- a small little performance in her head to do last minute just to find out he wasn’t even interested in that from her.

- Carnival Pomni.. is also an AI. But she has learned more from Caine about humans and emotions than the others certainly have so she tries her best. She talks to him, and the best advice she’s really able to put forward is.. to just be honest? She’s nervous, and tries to be genuine. She tells him to just confront his person of interest and talk about it, as it’s better so that any unnecessary tension is cleared. She struggles a bit on the overall topic of romance, but atleast she’s able to get the idea into Kingers head that “Ah, alright. I’ll tell the player.”

- Oh boy. Getting into the confession, Kinger is.. well.. he can be good with words, he can communicate nicely, but that also depends heavily on his mindset. Handling a situation like this would absolutely have him jittery and stressed and clawing at his hands and wishing he could go back to stage one where he didn’t care- where he could get rid of you- but now it’s been too long and he doesn’t want to do that.. he doesn’t want to get rid of you entirely.

- You are called into his room, and let’s be honest. You likely are not aware of any of his new behavior as of the late. You are still in a fight or flight mode as you’ve had to be in due to his recent behavior. He has been aggressive, brushing you off, and acting very similarly to when you first arrived and you were not sure why. So of course, you do not know what to expect when you are called in front of him.

- I’m torn between how he confesses. He is a complex and unpredictable character so he could out right say it bluntly, or be vague and ramble on about what he’s been experiencing. Regardless, you have two choices.

- If you tell him no, I think he would stare at you silently, wide eyed and just.. watch you for a second. He’d watch you for an uncomfortably long amount of time, before maybe persisting. I don’t know if he’d take a no. Because a no doesn’t really get rid of his feelings. A no, specifically someone telling him no, is not something he particularly enjoys. He’d persist his feelings, repeating his words and I won’t lie, you’d be pretty uncomfortable.

- If you tell him yes, he act like the first part of if you tell him no. Stare a bit, before standing up and walking over to you. His mood would change drastically, for if you went along and confessed as well, then he would probably invade your space and pick you up and get really happy and excited. It would be another very overwhelming emotion for him to experience in a burst at once, which would make him squeeze you a bit.. tightly, but luckily he’d able to control himself.

- In conclusion, I think you’d end up saying yes, and pursuing the relationship whether through genuine feelings or a bit of pressure. That, or you’d sabotage your relationship with him. Kinger forgets things all the time- ALL the time. But a feeling like this is not something he would let slip his mind entirely. I’m trying to avoid out right saying he’d kill you, but it’s definitely an option that would cross his mind. How dare you say no. How dare you embarrass him. How dare you humiliate him. He’d be livid.

- Now, the relationship. Prepare to be met with the clingiest, and most insufferable man you’ve ever met. Yes, he loved your company before and preferred it over the others but now I hope you’re ready to deal with some obsessive behavior. “Where are you going?” “When are you coming back?” “What are doing with them?” “How long will you be gone?” “Where exactly will you be?” Shit like that.

- I think Carnival Kinger would try to mimic off of Pomni and Caines relationship at first. It’s the only real relationship he has to go off of anyway, a romantic one to be specific. Caine and Pomni are inseparable! So we should be too. They do anything and everything together! So we should too. They are touchy, and have a pretty openly affectionate relationship! So let’s do that too.

- It takes him a long time to feel comfortable discussing boundaries with you. His mindset is never in the right place, he’s not suited for this kind of relationship but his feelings will not waver and he’s already come to terms with it so you are staying with him. Now, he DOES listen to you, if he goes to grab you or nuzzle his head into your neck or anything at all, if you tell him not right now, or no, then he will at least listen and stop. But he might try again later, once there has been some time.

- Carnival Kinger is also touchy, he’s touch starved and I will stand by my headcanon that I think ALL the AI are touch starved. Whether you like physical affection or not, he certainly does so expect it to some extent.

- I feel like everyone would know about the relationship immediately, it’s not something that could stay hidden. It’s just suddenly you two are always nearby each other. I mention that, because I also think everyone would be well aware your relationship with him is either not perfect in the slightest or not really.. good for you. Either way, not a single one of them would utter a word. I’d imagine Jax might bite something at him, to tease or mock his behavior with you but after no one seemed to find him for a few days and he finally came back but refused to talk to anyone I don’t think anyone wanted to bring up the topic anymore.

- In conclusion for this part, it’s a toxic relationship. Kinger is not mentally well in the slightest and as much as I like to fantasize because I have the “I could fix him” mentality it is safe to say I could not. I still want him tho, I want him really bad. I need him carnally. And speaking of carnally…

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NSFW:

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- As silly as I feel and as fun as I had writing the drabbles below, I realistically think the AI would have low libidos. They are just simply not programmed for sexual purposes and as my horny hypersexual heart aches in this trying time, I will survive as I have a very strong urge to keep things in character. So atleast in his relationship you do not need to worry about this area! For the most part…

- Hes either vanilla or very kinky, and it changes like the weather. One thing that never changes though, is the fact he really likes to watch. Kinger is big on voyeurism and he doesn’t play into the stereotype of the kink where it’s non consensually watching someone- he’s not a creep despite being.. wacky in the head in various other ways. He just simply likes to watch you do all the work, for you to listen to him and do whatever he wants, because it’s far more entertaining to him.

- Because of this, he’s also very big on positions where you are facing him because he wants to look at you, and scan your face for a reaction it of anything he tries to do. Oh, and eye contact, which (FUCK I’m not good at hahAA)

- He is probably an experimentalist, and likes to incorporate games into when you two have sex. He doesn’t like things to get stale, as the point of it all is he wants to be amused and the same thing over and over is never fun.

- Because his mood switches often, it’s hard to really know what you’re about to get into. You could be expected to do all the work, climb on top of him and do all movement- or you could be expected to do utterly nothing but let him do what he feels like. It’s… quite the coin toss.

- He’s more fixated on his own pleasure, but that’s not meant in the sense of prep. He would never intentionally try to hurt you, he is just messy and rushed with foreplay, often far too impatient.

- Okay let’s be honest.. Carnival Kinger, despite his mood is ALWAYS impatient, so don’t be surprised if as soon as you lay down on a mattress he’s already tugging your pants off.

- He doesn’t rush the experience, of course not- not when he wants to have that sort of fun and amusement and is actually horny in the moment. He just wants to get it started and going.

- To sum it up, he thinks foreplay and prep is quite the hassle and he’s a giant piss baby, so oral and face fucking is not uncommon…

- He is just too fucking impatient to wait to get his dick wet ❗️☠️

- There are times though where he is more considerate.. if he’s in a good mood he might be more playful. Instead of wanting to let off some steam- he’ll actually play around with toys.

- The only time he uses toys if he’s implementing them into a game, because again, as much as I love him we all know Carnival Kinger is a huge egotistical jackass who just wants to see your reaction and watch you squirm and writhe by his own actions.

- Games.. speaking of those, they don’t just apply between you two privately. He will make you wear vibrating underwear for the pure reasoning of he thinks it’s funny, and then shove you out his door and tinker with the remote whenever anyone else decides to come up for a quick hello. That, or maybe he will edge you until you’re literally on the verge of tears, begging him to let you cum and he’ll tease and taunt you until he gets bored.

- And you can’t even get upset at him either, not properly. God forbid YOU get upset with HIM. His mood will switch from one to two things. He can be really teasing and silly, to shutting down emotion wise- just cranking the power up on the vibrator and leaving you there without a way for you to turn it off. Or, he get so emotional he starts to cry, and it makes you look overdramatic.

- And he might accept the apology. You’re lucky if he even considers it, but you’re even luckier if he simply just forgets the entire ordeal all together.

- But when this happens, he will still be very upset with you. You ruined his mood. You ruined his game. He’s pissed. He doesn’t care about you or how you feel anymore because you messed it all up so he will grab you and drag you back to his room and throw you on the floor or on a table or wherever he takes you and what he does next I’ll just leave up to your own imagination. Again, he would NEVER resort to noncon. If you tell him no, then he’ll just leave you but he will be very frustrated with you for a good while. The likely scenario to happen here is he neglects you a few days as a form of punishment but if you ask me, you could use the vacation.

- Like I said, he cares more about his own feelings than you but he does have his limits. Nothing non con, I clarify that again but things can get pretty dub con because he gets mixed up in his emotions very easily.

- You never know what to expect. He could get frustrated and scream and yell at you and then the moment you get upset he will talk sweet, try to hold you and brush your hair out of your face and hold you in his hands and tell you it’s okay- The worst part of him is how unpredictable he is, and you will never know what to prepare for.

[diagonal-queen]

Hello! So, how do you think Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, and Dazai(You can add some more characters if you want!)would react if their S/O was a compulsive liar? Not exactly a bad person, but they lie almost every chance they get. Please and thank you <3

i always get the best and most interesting reqs!! now i can't say i'm an expert with this subject, but here's how i think it'd go:

When their S/O is a compulsive liar

♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Mykola Hohol, Dazai Osamu, Ranpo Edogawa, Yosano Akiko x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: How do these characters react when their S/O is a compulsive liar?

♡ cw: Reader is a compulsive liar (you probably already figured, but I figure it's best to put the warning just in case), they are aware of this and they feel bad about it, Fyodor (and Mykola lowkey) is toxic as hell, like he's real bad (manipulative and abusive), misunderstanding and or ignorance towards the concept of compulsive lying

note: I did a bit of extra studying before writing this just to make sure I wasn't misinformed at all. I'm fully aware that compulsive lying is not a choice and can be very harmful to both the liar and person(s) being lied to. I know that compulsive lying does not indicate that someone is inherently a bad person. I'm not aiming to demean or glorify it! I'm very sorry if I get any details wrong or handle this topic incorrectly (please let me know if I have), apologies for errors, and I hope you enjoy x

Chuuya:

Chuuya is a really genuine and honest person. As such your behaviour takes some getting used to

However he does acknowledge that you don't actually want to lie to him and that it's something you don't know how to control, and he does his best to support you with it

He tries to get Mori's help for you so that the two of you can work towards dampening any potential issues that can arise from your behaviour (it probably doesn't work because Mori, but Chuuya's doing his best)

There are times when he does get a little frustrated with your lies and when you deny him calling you out but he's working on it

Chuuya constantly reminds you that there's no need for you to lie about yourself for him to love you and that you have value regardless of how you see yourself

Knows that it's not a personal thing, but lowkey has a hard time admitting that at first because he doesn't really get it initially

Wouldn't tell other people you're a compulsive liar but he would defend you if you get in trouble for lying to somebody

I'll be honest this would really put a strain on your guys' relationship, but if you're willing to put effort into it then you could definitely make it work

Fyodor:

Fyodor can see through basically all of your lies, and because he's messed up he really might see it as kind of a game.

He understands that you don't control it but he kinda feels like each time you tell him a lie (insignificant or harmless as it may be) you're challenging him in a way.

He gets some sick entertainment out of exposing your lies and watching you double down on them

Always asks you if you're lying to him whether or not he knows you are. In his head he wants to reinforce that lying is a sin and he does that by making you feel bad about them

To be totally honest the fact that you lie to him about things doesn't actually bother him much, he's just mean and sees it as a good way to control you

He might be less of a sadist if you initially admit to him that you're a compulsive liar instead of him finding out on his own because then he knows how it is from the get go

Will utilise your compulsive lying somehow for the DOA's benefit (and also tell the other members about it :/)

Fyodor knows full well that it's most likely an indicator of trauma or a symptom for something worse, but there's no better way than to build someone into your perfect S/O like breaking them down first!

Mykola:

He knows and he honestly doesn't really care.

Mykola is just not really that concerned about it. He knows that you do love him, and to him that's all that matters

Though he knows he won't receive always honest answers he still likes asking you questions (about your day or yourself or whatever) and is just happy to hear you talk whether or not it's true

Unfortunately though he doesn't really believe anything you say unless you can provide some kind of proof

Even though he does sometimes like to poke fun at you (things like catching you in your lies so you don't have a choice but to admit the truth), he really hates when other people do the same and will actively defend you

He likes to 'study' you in a sense, and hypothesise reasons as to why you're a compulsive liar. Sometimes he can cross the line when asking you about it

Kind of an enabler, not gonna lie. He wants you to tell him the truth, but he doesn't really care what you say to other people

In fact, he might actually play along with your lies in public to maintain your image (and for amusement probably)

Dazai:

So Dazai already knew this before you got together. He can tell when you're lying, believable as you may seem to other people

He himself doesn't lie but is also very good at evading questions and secret keeping, which are habits he picked up from his time as a mafioso. He understands you in that way and feels for you because you're generally pretty misunderstood by others too

As such he's rather defensive of you. He would hate for someone to make you feel bad about your behaviour because he knows you feel bad enough about it as it is

He takes notice of certain things that you have a tendency to lie about so that he can learn more about you and help you heal

Dazai generally tries to talk about things with you and communicate with you in a way that doesn't really invite any opportunities to lie, if that makes sense

If you lie to him, he doesn't really bring it up unless he's worried that it could cause trouble for you in the future

If you lie to other Agency members about something he might approach them later and explain that it was a lie and also explain why you said it

He might to help by bringing up contradictions in your lies and asking you to explain them (not as a 'gotcha' but more as a way to understand what you're trying to do)

Ranpo:

Back when you and Ranpo first met, he used to be a little bit insensitive about it (unintentionally!)

But after learning more about compulsive lying he kind of started to feel bad for you in a way? So he started going a lot easier on you

He always, always knows when you're lying because he's able to discern the truth with no effort. So, whether or not you lie to him it doesn't make much difference. He knows it's not intended to be malicious or personal

Ranpo can get frustrated with it though, because he's lazy and can't be bothered to figure you out sometimes

When in public he does most of the talking for you because if you do lie to someone and you're found out he doesn't want you getting in trouble (this is especially the case during investigations and stuff)

He actually kind of helps you in a way to lie less because you know that he knows the truth regardless so there's not much point in lying? Of course it's still a habit but you do find yourself lying less

Eventually he does enlist Yosano's help to try and see if there's anything she can actually do to help you too

Even if it turns out that she can't or something like that, he'd still be there to help you and he'd still love you

Yosano:

She's determined to help you with this condition, but she understands that it's not something you can control

Yosano is honestly probably the best one out of everyone here who you could talk to about it because she'd actually put a ton of effort into helping you stop lying (besides Chuuya lol)

She herself can usually tell when you're lying but unlike Ranpo she can't tell what exactly the lie is, if that makes sense?

She's very nice about it and never takes your behaviour personally. Yosano is very gentle when she encourages you to be honest with her, and doesn't force you to admit things if you feel you can't

That being said she doesn't enable your behaviour, and will sometimes end a conversation with you if she knows you'll keep lying after she brings it up

It's possible that as a doctor she may receive some raised eyebrows for deciding to date someone who is a compulsive liar, but she really doesn't care. Something like that isn't gonna deter Yosano from loving you

She may suggest couple's therapy in order to help the two of you communicate better (whether or not you decide to go is up to you)

Overall she's pretty good at handling your behaviour and not making you feel bad about yourself because of it :)

got the vibrant colour tachihara mayoi yesterday ˚‧º·( 。ᗒ ᴗ ◕✿) also...do we really expect many of these characters to correctly deal with behaviour as a result of psychological issues?