#i really don't have a great grasp and would love feedback on it

[siswritesyanderes]

i mightve asked this before, in which case go ahead and ignore this lmao. which characters would be the best vs worst when handling an autistic darling?

Oooh, this is a cool question! I would say it depends on the particular symptoms the person has, so I'll go over some symptoms and which yanderes would respond best vs. worst.

avoidance of eye-contact

Obviously, shy, autistic, or autistic-coded yanderes would work really well with this (and other) symptom(s). Your Donatello's, your Newt's, arguably your Peter Parker's. Also, yanderes who are able to sense when their darling's attention is on them supernaturally or just out of sheer social aplomb. Elves, for example, would be great with someone who doesn't like eye contact, because their body language conventions differ as a result of being able to communicate mentally.

Roxanne Wolf would be distinctly bad for this, based on her need for attention as demonstrated in Help Wanted 2. But she's also not beyond reason when it matters, as we've seen in Ruin DLC, so I'm sure communicating about it is on the table.

sensory reactivity

Okay, I think Dr. Strange would very specifically be bad for this, because his movies are all swirling kaleidoscopes of magic that would definitely be sensory overload in real life, and I have mentioned before that I don't see him as a considerate yandere. If anything, he might enjoy inducing sensory overload for the express purposes of making his darling require comfort, care, and isolation from others.

On the other hand, and maybe a weird pull for this, but Zafrina from Twilight would be great. Alec, too. Both have powers that would be super helpful when darling is overwhelmed.

Druig is able to just make everyone nearby shut up, which he would employ liberally.

food sensitivity/pickiness

Yanderes who enjoy cooking could go both ways on this. I could see some being offended by negative feedback and some taking it as being gifted with the challenge of meeting their darling's standards. Teruteru from Danganronpa and Esme from Twilight would both probably be good about receiving feedback and making changes. Super eager to please. Esme more so than Teruteru; he might get offended at first.

Rich and royal yanderes would delight in someone picky. They would love to be able to send food back with new, highly specific orders because darling doesn't like grapes with soft spots. Your Tony Stark's, your Byakuya Togami's, your Toph Beifong's, your Coriolanus Snow's.

Ralph from DBH would be a problem. He has a very weak grasp on what humans eat and a very high sensitivity to negative feedback. (Wait, he's just like me...)

resistance to changes in routine

This one would be a problem for yanderes who feel a need to go on adventures and trips with their darling. Which isn't necessarily the same as adventurous yanderes. Some adventurous yanderes might enjoy the idea of their darling staying behind at home keeping to a comfortable routine. But the ones who want their darling along on the adventure would be problematic. The Doctor, for example. Especially Eleven; he gets bored easily.

Whereas I think a lot of superheroes would like the idea of keeping their darling sequestered away, living predictably and comfortably. Clark Kent, Steve Rogers, Druig...The only catch is that some of them (Druig) would probably be a bit condescending about it.

I think Daycare Attendant would be great for routine. Coloring time, snack time, naptime, same time every day, sign them up! Also condescending, but they genuinely can't help it because it's how they're programmed.

Technically, Phineas and Ferb keep to a very specific routine, albeit a pretty tiring/potentially overwhelming one.

sorting things

This would be great for the disorganized genius character type. A Bruce Banner, if you will. An organized genius probably already has a system and might have trouble with someone sorting things differently than they have them. A distinctly slovenly character probably wouldn't mind either way.

hyperfixation

Yo, Queen from Deltarune would be the best for this. She would create an inescapable palace of the thing darling likes. Swatch and the Swatchlings would be involved.

stimming

There might be a problem if the yandere is easily distracted and needs to focus on something else. The main one I can think of who fits that description is Percy Jackson. That's not a distaste thing; just a pragmatic issue. Yanderes who experience sensory overload might also have an issue with it. My first thought was Queen Elsa.

On the other hand, Leo Valdez would love to make little stim toys for his darling. Donatello, too.

[some-thrilling-heroics]

the purpose of this post is for me to figure some stuff out so i'm open to feedback and discussion

disclaimer: i love Halsin, he's my precious bear man

but damn i am pissed

i started to really dig into the epilogue, specifically that last morning after the brain goodbye scene in the room at the inn where he says he has nine wagons of kids and he will aid the people in Thaniel's realm

sadly i can't find any footage of what he says when Tav goes "oh a community built with your own hands, i'd love to see that" (or something to that extent) bc i think that is the one option that nullifies the goodbye and i think? he just asks if Tav is sure and then happy end bells

but even so

the interaction practically starts with "why does this sound like you're saying goodbye?" - oh that's because he is. at least for now. but Tav can visit, he's very eager for them to visit - and then narrator is like a tenday later Tav went to the commune and then the party invite stuff, not important

and I'm like....

it just hit me how - yes, Halsin has abandonment issues and he wants to help those orphans and all the homeless refugees and all the great stuff but like…… HOW DARE YOU DECIDE FOR ME THAT I DON'T WANNA GO WITH YOU????

watching that on a loop three times seriously hit me hard and i don't like it (as in me, personally, not in the sense that it's bad writing or it makes no sense for him to do that, maybe it does - if somebody can help me wrap my head around that, I would be super grateful bc atm I'm stuck in my own emotional reaction to Halsin making decisions for me)

in my head Tav's response to that should be: fuck you, i don't want to visit - fuck that! i wanna go with you and move in with you bc I love you but i guess you don't really want that huh? oh you do? then I guess we are at an impasse, huh?

bottom line is - what do I want to do with it in my fic?

i could ignore it bc i kinda wanna, i don't want them fighting like that

on the other hand it would be great to have this devolve into a conflict, bc i already sprinkled a few tiny bits of them saying not the best things but then the other kinda steps past it or around it and they are fine, but it would add some realism for them to have a serious disagreement about their (joint) future and about communicating and making decisions and could be something to be revisited as a work in progress for them to grow into as their relationship keeps going

i don't mind exploring difficult shit in my fics, i already decided to commit and give Tav my trauma and it was very cathartic just drafting that bit, and this turning into a conflict could play into that I suppose, could work really well

I guess my problem is the dissonance between Halsin doing that unintentionally bc of his own issues and him generally being very considerate and respectful of others, especially Tav imo, he was perfectly happy to follow their decisions as a leader but now I guess they are no longer the leader and this is his thing, his commune, his new purpose in life and ofc he could never be selfishly happy when he could be doing good things for strangers but like.... i can't grasp that step how from that he goes into "therefore I shall not offer this as a choice for them but instead make that a foregone conclusion that this is goodbye, at least for now" - is it bc asking means risk of rejection and he'd rather reject himself to spare them both the interaction?

sorry this got rambly XD but anyway - thoughts?

[olderthannetfic]

Idk if I completely get what ethnonationalism is, I tried reading up and I have to admit the concept is maybe a step above my ESL reading ass, but if it is what I managed to grasp: It's the belief that only people who're directly tied ethnically and visually to what you'd consider someone from a nationality to look and act like are the only ones who're truly of an ethnicity and nationality and thereby allowed to interact with the culture tied to that nationality and ethnicity. Not sure if I got this right, but if I am, it seems that's something I see a lot of "both" sides of the political spectrum. I mean, openly racist people doing it is basically expected. But I don't see a lot of "lefties" talking about how that happens.

I've seen a few POC creators do that, one where I only remember that they made a commentary of how their culture was portrayed in a movie and gave big praises, but then said that the movie didn't need to be made because "we could have made this ourselves we don't need you!" Tbh I don't remember much since it was some time ago, I just remember that the conclusion felt very weird after all that positive feedback. If the culture was so well portrayed, and people enjoyed it, why is it suddenly such a negative thing that it was made by people who really loved and wanted to explore that culture? Why should only people of the right race and ethnicity be allowed to make a movie like that? If it was a shit portrayal, with a lot of disrespect I probably would have understood it more tbh.

Or another where I just remember someone criticising a woman who had POC ancestry, great grandparent I think, and was creating their works based on that, who then got portrayed as being basically a white woman stealing clout from Asian creators/artists. Idk, but if that woman feels connected to that part of her, even if she's "white" at a first glance, don't deny her connection to it?

I also have seen some POCs fighting about if paler black people, or SEA's should be allowed to still consider themselves "real" black/SEA people, because they've been "white washed". And all of them were pretty left leaning, so these things are just weird to see. Or how people who have certain music, and food tastes that don't fit the "ethnic" palate have become too white.

Don't even know how to start with people who were born and grew up in non-Western countries, and the culture they grew up in is a part of them, but get told they have no right to claim it.

--

[muniimyg]

I've never written an ask for any author on this app so this is a first for me (and I'm really shy and the anon option is off so it's a bit 🥹) but I really need to voice my thoughts and feelings

I just binge-read bbydaddy and I'm still sobbing so hard rn you have no idea. It's 4am rn and I have to wake up at 7 but I literally cannot stop crying. Adding to this, I did not reblog every chapter bc I didn't want to spam (don't know if I should have☹️) but I absolutely loved every single one. I did reblog jk's birthday bc it was the breaking point for me lol. After reading chapter 17 I thought that was it bc 18 was not showing on the masterlist yet so I read the next thing

When jk wishes for time as he blows the candles I immediately thought about the ending of chapter 16. Him blaming time in chapter 16... the thing he wished for... oh god I'm still crying as I write this. The fact that the thing he wished for was the thing he ended up blaming for what happened between them... heartbreaking

The way you treated the theme of time touched a very sensitive part of my poor little heart. I can relate sooo much to jk and every word that was written after his wish was just adding tears to my eyes bc I felt him so much. It's so hard to grasp the concept of time but the way you described how jk felt and thought about it was just beautiful. And then the rolex as a gift and her words promising him forever and and and 😭😭😭 honestly the best work and the best writing style I've ever seen on this app and I'm not exaggerating at all. I mean, I'm even writing this and I swear I'm so shy I have never written an ask 🥹🥹😭but you are so good I just had to

Also, jk as a dad ☹️❤️‍🩹 but jk as zion's dad ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹☹️☹️☹️🥹🥹 must be one of my favourite portrayals of him. I also loved her so so much, both of their characters felt so real and human, their traits and even more their flaws. You really brought them to life in such a unique and heart-wrenching way. I loved how they still loved each other through their ups and downs.

The smut as well was so intimate at times I was just thinking about a tweet I've seen on here saying something like how some authors are able to write sex scenes so full of lov, and you are one of them. I love love love when writers write smut in a way that you are able to see and feel how in love the characters are

I also stalked your page a little and I might binge read something else (not rn bc it's 5am lol this took so much time to write) bc everything looks great! Adding to this, I wanted to ask if it's okay to reblog everything as I read or if you would prefer not to spam your works

Sorry for the long rant and possible mistakes, I feel all over the place rn and I think this too is all over the place. I just needed to tell you how amazed I am by your writing skills and how much I loved bbydaddy, even more bc it turned into something so mind-blowing from such a small thing. I will be waiting for the last chapters ❤️🫶

my love,, u are my entire heart

ik it’s kind of an angsty story ,, but why did u cry so much bebe 😭 and u lost sleep ?!? PLEASE !!!!

i really appreciate the way u’ve expressed ur love for the time theme i gave them 😖 i think i’ve answered it in an ask before but i think a rlly great way to describe their love (at the moment) is; timeless but untimely

dilf jk 🤝 jk as zion’s dad … “must be one of my favourite protrayals of him / u really brought them to life in such a unique and heart-wrenching way” ,,, wow. thank u so much !!!

“honestly the best work and the best writing style” is a crazy thing to say 🧘🏻‍♀️ i’m so flattered and humbled with ur words and the amount of courage u gathered to send such kind and thoughtful feedback to me ,, there are not enough words for me thank u with 💛

oh and my favourite compliment … “some authors are able to write sex scenes so full of love, and u are one of them” .;.:.’-@-“/&:!. AAAAAAAHHHH ?!? this is insane. (tmi) i’m literally untouched and write smut out of pure delusion …. this means so much to me u have no idea how intense/funny/happy ur words made me !!!

thank u for all of this,, seriously. ur words and thots have given me so much joy and reassurance. i’m glad my work is able to reach and touch hearts like urs ✨

please reblog and send in as many thots as u want !! i love seeing how active and invested readers get and i’d love to hear more from u specially 🫶🏻

all the love,

kimi

[withleeknow]

so jen.. i just reread the entirety of "wishful thinking" (bc i avoided the last two chapters KNOWING it would make me cry) and here i am. BAWLING TEARS. chapter 7.5 really did it for me. he loved her since they met. it's he way he fell first AND HARDER. it's all's they way that you are such an extraordinary writer. my absolute favorite on this app. you bring out emotions i couldn't experience elsewhere. it's the love, it's the heartbreak, it's the happy moments you just can't grasp at for too long before it goes away. in other words, this series is my EVERYTHING and i cannot wait until the next chapter. i adore you jen. with all my soul.

(p.s. i hope you're doing well!!!)

oh my god this whole message is just... i think i'm gonna throw up (affectionate) this is one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me WHAT THE HELL? thank you so much 😭 i don't think i deserve this at all, you're being too kind 😭 i didn't really have many expectations going into WT, so hearing something like this just absolutely blows my mind. i'm so SO glad that the series has impacted you this much, you have no idea how much it means to me, like i've been thinking about this ask all day :((( admittedly i haven't really been able to get into the writing groove lately and i didn't feel great about the new chapter but seeing the feedback so far is so nice. i'll try to be better with the remaining chapters!!

i hope you're doing well too i hope you'll have the best september :(( 🤍

[lady-lostmind]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you @emryses for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

12.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

240,148

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I've only written Stranger Things so far.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Steve Harrington. Are you kidding me? Temptation Heat, Beats Like a Drum. Happy Valentine's Day, Big Boy. This is the coin I had in my pocket the first time we kissed and I always have it. And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I try to at least reply with something so people know I saw their comment and appreciate it.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm a happy ending girlie, honestly. (I also have a lot of WIPs so they don't have an ending yet.)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

As far as actually finished fics goes, probably Steve Harrington Are you kidding me.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten a few comments here and there that weren't the nicest or could have probably been left off. But mostly I've gotten good feedback.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! I always convince myself it's not very good but it's fun to write! And I really just write whatever fits the story? I don't think I really have anything I particularly favor.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I have not. I don't usually read crossovers either.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, I haven't!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No I haven't but I am in awe of people who can do that. That seems so difficult to me.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I think Steddie is always going to be top dog for me, honestly. I've read fics for such a long time but Steddie is the first that got to me enough that I actually started creating things for it as well. And the brainrot is still going strong.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I honestly plan on finishing all my abandoned WIPs at this time!! I guess if I had to pick it would probably be Coin just because it's the one I've struggled the most with. But I'm hoping to come back to it still!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Oh man. That's a tough one. I think...character voice. I think I do a pretty good job of grasping a character and sticking as closely to what feels most like them at least, in my mind.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Honestly I think just my own confidence and need for external validation. I wish I could just write for myself and enjoy it regardless of how well something does. I also just really struggle with writing in longer bits. I tend to write in little snippets and pieces ad it takes so long to get anywhere that way.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't think I would ever try. I don't speak any other language and trying to master the nuance of speaking in one while relying on like...google translate just doesn't sound like it would go well.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Stranger Things! Steddie was my first dive into writing fanfic at all.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I am so incredibly proud of And You May Find Yourself. I stepped outside my comfort zone a lot for this fic all the way from the themes to just actually reaching out and being more a part of the Steddie community. I've made some great friends through the process and have signed up to be a part of way more than I originally planned on when I decided to so the Steddie Big Bang. I still have two chapters to write for this one and although I'm really looking forward to it finally being done I'll absolutely miss the version of these characters I created for this go around. I hope people love them as much as I do.

zero pressure tags: @oh-stars, @karadanverss, @rindecision, @lihhelsing, @starryeyedjanai, @azrielgreen, @eddywoww, @lexirosewrites, @thefreakandthehair, @thorniest-rose

[yuffi369]

Feathers of Fate

Ok so now that I've had a chance to sit at my laptop for ease of typing, I would like to offer some feedback to the system!

Keep in mind this feedback is pre-playtesting, as I only just discovered it this morning and haven't had a chance to playtest it with friends. This is going off my prior experience with TTRPG's both as a player and as a DM/GM/Storyteller.

This post is gonna be under a cut cuz it might get lengthy, but if you would like to read up on the system as it is before reading this post, here is a link to the google doc of v1 of the rules, and the dev blog is @funnybirdgame if you would like to follow them to get updates!!

so firstly,

What I really, REALLY like

so obviously I really like the concept. Otherwise I wouldn't even be doing this post tbh. I saw the post, was intrigued, and then had an epiphany.

Nostalgiaaaaa

ok so to get this point out of the way to lay my biases out on the table, the concept IMMEDIATELY reminds me of Guardians of Ga'Hoole, a book series I read as a kid that has 15+ books (it's still going as far as I'm aware which, alright, get it girl). For those unaware of the book series, it's basically Warrior Cats but with owls. For those unaware of that series, can i join you under the rock you live under? it looks cozy the concept of Guardians of Ga'Hoole is that owls have their own society and the Guardians of Ga'Hoole is this knight order of legend that lives in the far-off distance and supposedly is sworn to protect all of Owlkind from great evil. It's a whole thing really, I'm not gonna get into it too much.

Obviously, there's more than just owls in this game, it's all birds. But I bring this up to sort of lead into some of the additions I want to bring to the table, as well as just. Explain my very excited tone of this post. So obviously I may be a bit biased in wanting to see the success of this system and giving it feedback.

The Simplicity

I actually REALLY love how simplified the system is. It definitely isn't a 1-pager, for sure, but the skills are simple and well-explained in only one sentence, and the items and what they're used for are also very self-explanatory. While there is an appeal in making things crunchy and a bit complex (I'm a d&d 5e addict at heart, I love the system a lot both because it's my first and it in my opinion walks a very good line between easy to grasp and complex enough to provide a good challenge), there is just as much appeal in making something you can very easily grasp session 1.

Fate Points

I actually really like the fate points system here. It's simple, it doesn't let players hoard a bunch throughout a game, and it allows players who eat absolute shit at a particular roll to feel at least a bit better cuz, hey, at least I get some fate points out of the 1 I rolled. No notes here but I WILL mention the Fate Points later.

The LOOOOOOOORRRREEE

So I am REALLY intrigued by the implicated lore already. A good system will allow a Storyteller, who is effectively writing an interactive novel for their friends, to go absolutely nuts telling a story. There are so many questions that could be answered here. What caused the humans to go extinct? When did they go extinct? What other animals have intelligence, if any? Why do birds have human-like intelligence now?

A post-apocalypse setting has a TON of opportunity for environmental storytelling which is I think my favorite way of telling a story in games. Describing structures that, to a human it would be obvious what it is, but to a bird, who has no clue of the original intent of the structure when it was complete, let alone in ruins, you could have so much fun painting a picture of the environment.

Now for what I don't like so much

I did say I had some feedback. This includes positive and negative. This is version 1 of the rules, and I've never actually written my own system before, but I have played and DM'd a lot (not just 5e) and so I can tell by reading when things need to be tweaked. This isn't going to be super harsh or anything, it's gonna have the same tone as the rest of this post, pretty casual.

The Dice & Stat System

So, to get my biggest criticism out of the way. The stats system in this scares me. Using a different die for every stat, while cool in theory, really knocks some things off of balance and isn't conducive to a couple things that make a TTRPG good for long-term, multi-session play.

So, one of the issues you're going to run into using this is character progression. You're going to run into a point where a player builds their character, and they're going to want to improve stats that they kinda suck at. Character growth! We love to see it! Not just in terms of how the character is played at a social and narrative level, but people love seeing numbers go up. There's no real way to effectively progress in a stat you suck pellets at, like if you put a d4 in perception and you realize you're getting your party into trouble by blindly walking into traps. (Not speaking from experience or anything...)

Another pitfall this system has is that, alongside individual character progression being stifled, it will lead to party composition being stale. Don't get me wrong, having characters in a party that are better-suited for certain tasks is GOOD. Let the rogue be the one who picks locks because that's their thing, let the bard be the one to talk to the politicians, et cetera. However. With no real way for a character to progress in a stat, the party never really changes up this dynamic. Why would you EVER use a stat you put a d4 in if your friend has a d20? You'll just let them do their thing. You won't even bother trying. Even if the Storyteller accounts for this and balances the check accordingly, there's no accounting for the huge gap there. It isn't bad for a party to be composed of different birds who are better at different things, per se, but it does make for gameplay that will get stale. Checks will get stale, too, because if you have someone who uses an item in their best skill to roll 2d20, well, the check is more than likely guaranteed to succeed if they roll a 40.

So to combat this problem I recommend using a different way to go about dice, known as;

DICE POOLS

If you've never played a system with dice pools before, it's somewhat intuitive. Instead of having a target number to roll and add up to or above, instead, your stat will determine the amount of dice you roll. Certain numbers on the die will mean either success or failure (typically the lower half of the die is a failure, the upper half is a success). You count the number of successes you roll, and you have to reach a target number of successes to do the thing you want to do. To give an example;

Soren wants to use Agility to dodge out of the way of an attack as a reaction in-combat. Soren's Agility stat has a 2 next to it, meaning he rolls 2 dice in this check. He also has the Air Fins item, allowing him to gain an extra die to roll when he rolls to dodge mid-air, meaning he gets to roll 3 dice total. He rolls his dice, and the numbers he rolls are 3, 4, and 6. Since 1-3 is a failure and 4-6 is a success, he tells the Storyteller he got 2 successes. The Storyteller tells him that he passed the check, and dodges out of the way of the attack.

Dice pool systems are used in games in the World of Darkness system, which is mainly where I'm pulling my inspiration for this example. They use d10's and I can't remember which numbers mean success or failures because I use the fancy dice with the symbols on the success sides and blanks on the failure sides. I recommend using d6's because while, yes, we are playing as birds and I'm almost positive anyone interested in this system is a dice hoarder (crows. d'you get it), d6's are the easiest dice to get ahold of in a pinch. Very easy to make a cube out of paper! Not so much a dodecahedron.

You can also still have critical success and critical failures, which can add some dynamic features to dice tests. Example;

Soren wants to recall some information about a structure. He has a 3 in Cunning, so he rolls 3 dice, and he has an Informational Tome that gives him 1 additional dice, meaning he rolls 4 dice in total. He rolls a 4, a 5, and two 6's. Soren knows that a 6 is a critical success, so he lets the Storyteller know that he got 4 successes, and that 2 of them are crits. The Storyteller can then choose to give extra information that Soren otherwise may not have gotten had he not succeeded so well, such as a guess at the purpose of the structure based on Soren's previous knowledge.

You can also use critical success as a tiebreaker, such as when two players roll the same number of successes on a check for combat initiative; the person with the most crits in their roll can go first.

A dice pool system like this allows for people to improve their skills over time, using experience gained by leveling up to purchase extra die to roll during tests. This still allows for certain characters to be better at something than others, but also opens up the floor to characters to get better at a skill to be on-par with their team. It also curbs the problem of being able to roll a ridiculous amount of points above the target number.

I do recommend that with the dice pool system you have a maximum number of points you can put into one stat. I recommend 5 as it's a nice even number, as with a standard item that only gives a +1 buff to a stat in a certain situation you can roll 6 dice total. Not including Fate Points.

Speaking of fate points! This allows for fate points to be more balanced. If you've been hoarding Fate Points during a session where you've rolled a lot of 1's, you don't get to roll, say, 5d20's and absolutely obliterate the bbeg of the session. Instead it's just more d6's. It does still allow for a player to roll, say, 10 dice, but like, at that point, that's exciting for the whole table and we love that energy (or at least I do personally, as someone who's rolled 15 dice for an attack check on a VtM character), and who's to say how many successes that will give them?

One more thing I will add, this allows you to not be beholden to only 7 stats. You can add some, you can remove some. I personally recommend adding a stat like Knowledge, to recall things in books and to do medicine checks, and leave Cunning for social smarts like lying and using tools.

Ok that's enough about dice, how about other stuff?

Birds

aka "I wanna play a chicken"

In the car this morning I had the brilliant realization that birds aren't just restricted to ones that fly. I'm sure upon first glance this system might call to mind owls, ravens, and crows. Maybe a few of you thought of some songbirds.

I thought of chickens.

Regardless of the kind of bird you want to play, there's no real benefit to your choice. Sure, you can play a chicken, but why would you want to when there's no real benefit and you can't fly with the rest of your party? There should be some incentive to take certain birds over others.

This also allows you to sprinkle in some bird facts, which, I'm not a bird expert myself, but I've heard people who are into birds REALLY LOVE sharing bird facts.

For example, a crow might have a +1 in Cunning, and a special ability to use improvised tools better, but their drawback is that they are easily distracted by shiny things and have a debuff to Determination when there's distractions around.

An owl might have a +1 in Knowledge, and a special ability to have an extra die when hunting because they're birds of prey, but they have a debuff to Perception during the day time.

Et cetera, et cetera.

I know that D&D 5e did away with racial buffs and debuffs a while ago, but I really like the idea that choosing what bird you want to play has some effect on gameplay. You can still play a bird counter to what they would 'stereotypically' be good at, mind you, but this just gives some extra features and fun things to do as that bird.

In conclusion!

I really wanna play this. Maybe over this weekend I'll convince people to play it with me. I do want to playtest the rules as-is, because while I do have a lot of knowledge in my belt already, I do want to at least see the system run hands-on so that I can at least determine if my current feedback has merit and if there's anything else I can add.

I am also more than happy to write up a formal version of all the stuff I talked about here in my own Google Doc to share.

[tarotmundomonde]

Hello! Hopefully I do everything right, I had to open tumblr on two devices so I could remember everything haha.

My initials are J.W. and my sun sign is leo. Since I'm asking one of the questions that requires it, my moon sign is taurus and my venus is cancer.

My request is for option #2 (romance reading in the next 5 months for singles).

I don't really have a great reason as to why you should do it for me, my reason is mostly that I'll be incredibly grateful, and I'm also 100% willing to leave feedback, and tend to usually leave detailed feedback (especially for longer readings), if feedback is something you're looking for. I chose this option because it's just a topic I'm currently interested in learning for myself as I've started to take a lot of time recently for improving myself, and I want to confirm some thoughts I already have about what the possibilities could be. I recently had a rough time with a connection (about two or so months ago), and even though it hurts a bit still, I'm hopeful for the future. Also, there will be a lot of changes in my coming future, so I'm curious as to what love situations will entail for this point.

Here is the romantic gif that I believe would resonate with you:

I don't know who these people are (lol) but i think this is something your future partner will do (or something your current partner does), a lot of sweet nose kisses.

As for the color, for some reason Yellow by Coldplay started playing in my head, so I'm going to go with yellow. I'm kind of doing this part intuitively but I think rather the emotions & words that go with the song + the color yellow in general really apply to your...essence? "Look how they shine for you, and all the things you do.", I think this relates to how helpful your readings have been overall, especially for me. You're like a strong hand leading someone through a storm, a shining light (much like how light leads things through situations all the time, like the glow of the moon guiding sea turtles, the north star guiding travelers, the lighthouse calling sailors home). I hope this makes sense, it's difficult to explain what I mean. But hey, even your gif is yellow/warm toned, I don't sense you really being a cool tone at all.

Anyways, this is all. Hopefully, I did this all right. I do highly enjoy your readings, I'm not sure why I'm not following yet, but I will follow after sending this. Thank you so much for offering your time and energy, and I hope my time & energy suffices ♡

Thank you for letting me know. This is such a beautiful compliment ♡ and I'm happy to hear you enjoy my readings 😊

NOTE: This reading counts from today to the next 5 months.

Hello JW, let's dive into your reading, shall we? At first glance, it looks like the next five months in love will get pretty intense for you. Arrivals of tests and lessons. Maybe literally an ex of some kind coming back around or a repeated situation. When looking at the cards, the first impression is that there are some lessons you've successfully learned but as they may have been quite challenging ones, there are still some left to be learned from the past situation. And also, maybe it's like you understood the idea of the lesson but not fully grasped it, not fully comprehended it. Because you'll be tested by temptation and fears. It looks like one huge lesson is absolutely about not lowering your standards and about patterns. And then you are also tested, when it comes to perception and perspectives. Let's go deeper into the details of your reading. It's no wonder you have forgiveness in the cards and ripple effects. In the moment it might feel like a fleeting situation but it's actually a crucial detail. Small parts which form the bigger picture. The next five months in love for you seems to be a lot about the meaning of true love. You are called to dive in deep to seek the answers and to find them. You are asked, what do you seek in love? What are your dreams vs the decisions you make in love. Are you going against the flow or with the flow? Are you grounded enough to feel the love's pulse? Again something about patterns and the pace, the rhythm of events occuring in your love life and of the actions taken and the behaviour of the other person. It feels like you need to pay more attention to the fine details, for example to body language. And to be honest with yourself, if the timing feels off, for example if something is happening too soon, things like that. It's important for you to take your power back and to be in your power. And there is also a reference to sipping some coffee and just enjoying the moment. To stay calm and just wait and see what happens. To create your own little sanctuary, your own space. You have so many messages about love coming through in your reading. First of all, everyone has their own love story. Although, you may be able to learn a thing or two from other people, everyone has their own unique love story. What makes someone else happy, might not be what makes you happy in love. It's very important to find your own voice in matters of love. There is a focus on the complete picture and on transparency in love. Take things as they are, at face value, let people reveal their true colours to you.

Secondly, you have a strong theme of passion, lust and fervor, of falling in love, of love and of euphoric love and what it is to share love. You might literally fall in love and fast and it's so passionate and euphoric, but you can't quite put your finger on it. It's simply love. You have themes and lessons to learn about kindness and compassion and respect and reverence in love. That love is simple and there are no conditionings. You are at the end of a cycle and beginning of a new cycle in love. Some tough lessons to learn, especially about healthy boundaries. Again the theme of simplicity in love shining through. But it seems prosperity in love is on the horizon for you. But it's gonna really be about shifting your focus. About seeing the blessings in disguise. There is something you need to see, then you can avoid the old traps and being stuck. You also have a message about creativity. Perhaps you need to tap more into your creativity, focus on more positive dreams in love and having more faith in love. Nonetheless, it looks like the next five months in love will be a very significant time in regards to your love life. You do have the keys to open the door to euphoric love.

ps. feedback is always appreciated~

[yeyinde]

I’m sorry I know this is kinda weird but ah. I wrote a little poem and I’d like to share it, I don’t really have anyone I can show stuff like this to in my personal life and if you have feedback or something I’d love to hear it. it is about drowning so I understand if you’d rather not see it and I don’t wanna like impose or shove myself in your face, I look up to you a lot as a writer but you’re a person first and fore most so I wanna respect that most of all. I’m sorry if this is rambly im pretty shy and also I don’t have the best grasp of written English grammar but I try my best

This isn't weird at all! I'm honestly so touched you even want to share it with me. I love poems, and I would genuinely adore this!!! 🖤

I'm not great at English grammar, either, so I'm the last person who would ever care about the rules of the English language, so you don't have to apologise or worry about it at all! I def don't.

If you'd still like to share this with me, I'd absolutely love to read it!

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Two

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: there is maybe miscommunication?? in the sense that nico thinks poppy wants one thing and is giving her a chronic case of the over-thinkys, cursing, angst kinda?, fluff, harry potter slander (sorry), rangers slander (not sorry), being set up, mentions of controlling parents again, nico being ravaged by a green-eyed monster, nico being clingy, and mopey, and grumpy, luke being somewhat confrontational, there is also maybe something that rhymes with a miss! don't want to miss that!!

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

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter One)

A/N: sorry this took a while I honestly hated everything I wrote every day for a solid week lmao buttt things are kicking into gear now the next chapter is one I've drafted while this one I had to wing so hopefully will be out a little quicker. I know these two are mega annoying with their over thinking but it serves a purpose (I know no other way of existing than to overthink)

please please send me any thoughts any opinions I'd love to hear it whatever it may be thank you!!! again I'll try get another chapter out soon!

Poppy

If anyone were to ask Poppy what kind of impact her older brother, Oliver, has had on her life over the years, she would probably tell them very little. Being 4 years and some change apart has meant that any time Poppy has entered a new space in her life, Oliver has just left it. 

When she started her freshman year in high school, he was starting college. When she was starting college, he was in the beginnings of kickstarting his career. And when she started laying the foundations of her own career, he was too far gone for her to ever catch up.

Their childhood was spent in constant competition - Poppy envying Oliver for being their mother’s favourite child and Oliver envying Poppy for being their father’s - the two of them grew up battling it out to make the other look bad.

Oliver never quite grew out of it.

But, to say she hasn’t learned anything from watching him her whole life would be a lie. A lot of who Poppy is as a person, as a daughter, a colleague, a friend, is more often than not based on who Oliver is not - though the lessons he has taught her have been somewhat inadvertent. 

Poppy likes to think she is independent. She’s seen over the years how much her brother has relied on their parents and the rest of their extended family and suffered terribly for it, always facing their judgements for the decisions he makes - securing himself a lifelong residency under their father’s thumb. He has modelled his own life after the man who raised them, constantly seeking his approval, never quite grasping how much scrutiny this would open himself up to. Poppy very quickly learned that if she wants any semblance of peace in life, she has to source it herself - otherwise, it comes with a million strings attached, all of which are constantly being masterfully pulled by the many hands in her family.

That’s how she navigated her education, getting herself into a great communications and media management programme at Fordham - despite coming from a long line of Wharton alumni and donors - and graduating with honours. It’s how she maintains her friendships, surrounding herself with loving, warm-hearted people who genuinely care for others - a complete contrast to the social circles she had grown up in and around. And it’s how she thrives in her career, working her way up in an organisation and foundation in which their sole intent is to do good and give back. If she achieves such things on her own merit, they can’t be used to control her.

He has taught her how to stick up for herself, which comes off the back of her independence. For years she’s watched her parents pick apart Oliver’s life. His grades, his relationships, his career, his house, the way he’s raising his kids, it’s all up for inquiry in the eyes of Priscilla and Philip Jensen. She’s watched as he’s sat there while they dissect and demolish every little thing about his existence - as he’s invited them into his own home, and let them verbally burn it to the ground. Poppy has too much pride to do the same. 

She remembers when she rented her first solo apartment - a major step in her life, something she was so inherently proud of she couldn’t even put it into words - and her parents had come around to, in her mother’s words, assess the investment. 

It’s a little small, Poppy, was met with, I’m only one person living here, Mom and I don’t much care for the location was contended with, It’s a good thing you’re not living here. They’d turned their noses up at her renting in the first place, but buying a property was out of the picture when she still had student loans to pay, and would mean borrowing money from them, and she wasn’t going to throw herself down that well with no way out.

She’s protective over the things she has worked hard for, and she won’t let anyone bring her down.

Oliver has also taught her a lot about forgiveness, and empathy. This comes from all of the above - from witnessing the path he has taken in life, or the one that was chosen for him, and seeing the kind of person that comes out of the other side. Seeing how the nettles that line such a path sting at the bare skin of his legs, causing him to take much more deliberate, and some may say calculated, steps, even if this means casting others to the edge to protect himself. Seeing how the bricks that line it appear to have been perfectly laid out for him, but are deceptive when stepped upon - uneven and jagged, with the sole intention to trip him up. Seeing how the path winds and loops, and no matter how far down it he goes, the end is never in sight.

And so when he and Poppy argue whenever they’re both home, when he makes digs at her life, or tries to put her down in front of everyone else, she sees him for what he is. She understands the deflection of blame and hurt, and she takes it in her stride. She applies this logic to others, as well.

Poppy believes more than anything in forgiveness. In giving others the chance to be better the second time around - Lord knows she wants the same - but with this comes the expectation that someone has to have understood their missteps in order not to follow the same route again.

But therein comes another lesson Oliver has taught her, or tried to teach her, at least. She’s always thought they’re ridiculous sayings, lessons she has rejected for so long but both things she thinks about a lot, especially lately.

Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Or beggars can’t be choosers.

It’s usually said following a bribe from their parents to get their own way - Oliver would rather take than question what anyone else stands to gain, and Poppy is far too sceptical to usually bend to any other person’s whim.

The thought of questioning the validity of a promise of gold does bite away at her - makes her fiddle with her fingers and chew at the inside of her cheek in contemplation whenever it comes to mind - but who is she to polish at the exterior? Why would she file and buff until all she has is a rock when she could leave something to be sparkling and beautiful?

Especially if that sparkling something is held by Nico, and comes in the form of picking back up their friendship where it had been so abruptly left off - as if it had never been thawed, never been marred by their time apart. As if she hasn’t spent the last 4 months blaming herself, wondering what she did wrong. 

But the part of her that worries about the why of it all is at war with a side that is enjoying the reconciliation too much to care.

She just needs to reject her own nature to question and over analyse a good thing - needs to let herself bask in what she has wanted back for so long. She needs to be patient. She’ll figure him out sooner or later, if he doesn’t explain himself, first.

It has barely taken a day for their dynamic to shift straight back into its rightful place - for them to be in each other’s constant orbit - either in person or texting non stop in the rare hours they spend apart.

Nico had seen Poppy and Nia off in a cab in the early hours of New Years Day, had made sure she texted him when she got home and was safe in bed, and then had showed up later that morning with juices and pastries for the 3 of them to eat together after texting if she was awake. And when Nia had gone back to her own apartment, he’d spent the entire day with Poppy, lounging around on her couch and watching Criminal Minds until they both fell asleep in the late afternoon. They had cooked and eaten dinner together before he left back to his place so he could get up early for practice.

It’s hard not to immediately slip back into a routine with him - when everything feels so familiar. She had never really reached the acceptance stage of her grief, after all. She’d been stuck floating around bargaining and depression, she thinks. She had never truly let him go, and so it felt more appropriate to press play on things, resuming rather than starting over from the beginning. Accepting rather than dwelling on the millions of unanswered questions that float around the forefront of her mind.

And with that, comes Nico making himself at home in her office while she listens in on a virtual meeting on her first day back working her normal job after New Years Day. 

He’d come in without knocking while she was on a call after his morning practice had finished, had attempted to busy himself looking over the pictures that lined her walls in an attempt not to distract her - like he could ever be around and not be distracting - and had thrown himself down on the chair on the other side of her desk. It’s the constant shuffling around that captures her attention, like he can’t get comfortable, and the little huffs and puffs he lets out as it starts to frustrate him. 

She tries not to visibly react - tries not to let her gaze follow him or roll her eyes - and give away to the other participants of her Zoom meeting that anyone is with her, but he’s making it incredibly difficult for her to focus. She’s grateful her contribution to the meeting has already happened, not having much more to offer, or much need to pay too close attention to what’s going on, or she’d be throwing something at him and gesturing off-camera for him to cut it out.

She watches as he sits legs spread, legs crossed, legs pressed together, sits sideways with his legs slung over the arm, and then tries the other way. She barely manages to make out her boss, Elaine, concluding the call before it ends, making sure to mutter out an adequate sign off to the team. 

Poppy makes sure to leave the call after the chorus of goodbyes and thank yous, before slamming her laptop shut, the second monitor going black as the computer goes into sleep mode.

“What on Earth are you doing?” She questions as Nico seems to be wiggling into the seat opposite hers.

“This chair doesn’t feel right,” he grumbles, picking himself up and throwing himself back down into it with another huff, testing another angle or position only to clearly come up short.

“Whatever you say, Goldilocks,” Poppy rolls her eyes, standing from her own chair with the sudden need to stretch her legs. “It’s the same chair I’ve always had in here.”

“It’s like I can feel Jack’s butt imprint in the leather.” 

“Oh so that’s what this is,” she gestures with a hand towards the chair, where there definitely isn’t an imprint of anyone’s butt. “You’re jealous of Jack’s butt.”

“I just think you should stop letting him hang out in here so much, he’s ruining the furniture.” Nico frowns, and Poppy can’t quite tell if he’s serious or not. “I can practically smell him, too.”

“I’ve tried, unfortunately if you feed a stray one time, they just keep coming back for more.” Poppy starts to gather her things while Nico does whatever it is he’s doing. “And my office does not smell like Jack Hughes, I have a diffuser right here, the scent is literally called Happiness.”

“Tell him he can’t sit in my chair next time he’s here,” he suggests, ignoring her other comment, standing alongside Poppy and offering her a hand. She tries not to get too flustered at how quickly he has reclaimed anything in her office as his.

“You tell him,” she argues, handing Nico her empty I Heart NJ mug and small plate she had used when eating her breakfast at her desk this morning - a toasted cinnamon-raisin bagel and some apple slices. “I can leave you in here on your own for a few hours if you want, let you work on imprinting your butt back into the seat?” She checks her bag to make sure she has the necessities, phone, keys, wallet, lip balm, spearmint gum and a mini perfume. “Or, better yet, why not just pee over the threshold of my door, mark your territory.”

“Do you think that would keep him away?” Nico questions, instinctively following Poppy as she starts to head out of her office.

“For some reason I don’t think Jack would abide by the typical rules of the animal kingdom, so no.” She fishes her keys out so she can lock up behind the two of them. 

“It would probably mess with the whole Happiness smell, too, huh?”

“Exactly.” A couple of her colleagues are working from home this week, and anyone else with an office near hers is in a meeting that she had managed to get out of with the whole auctioneer thing, and so she and Nico stand alone outside the room as she realises she doesn’t even know why he’s here. “Did you actually need something or were you just here to insult my furniture?”

She had text him when she woke up this morning, responding to a message he had sent from practice - a video of Jack stumbling coming off the ice that he’d made one of the social media guys send over to him, his laugh echoing in the background. They’d carried on the text conversation throughout the morning, and the part of Poppy’s daily routine dedicated to missing him has very quickly been scribbled over by the need to keep up with his constant attempts to be close to her.

It’s only been a day since New Years, and Nico has been putting in every effort to make up for lost time. They had spent most of yesterday together, and it’s seeming like, even in the midst of a working day, he wants to carry that on.

She can’t think of a solid 5 minutes since their time on the rooftop where they haven’t been in some form of communication, other than the hours she had been asleep. They’d returned to Jack’s apartment to an almost thunderous applause, and for the rest of the party had remained side by side.

Poppy had only slightly worried about her best friend’s reaction, having left her in a room full of mostly unfamiliar people on such a big holiday. But Nia had been fine with it - had actually encouraged her to take her time when Poppy had originally told her the plan to get some air with Nico - and so any guilt had dissipated with the shit-eating grin that took over Nia’s face at the sight of her being ushered back inside with a large hand on the small of her back. 

A hand that had stayed there pretty much all night.

Jack had been just as happy, congratulating the two of them on getting over themselves and offering them shots to ring in the New Year properly. Poppy was just thankful he’d snapped out of his weird are you enjoying yourself time loop and actually started enjoying the party, himself. 

She’d been fielding questions from both of them about it for the past 36 hours, and she was actually relieved that it was Nico who had poked his head into her office and interrupted her meeting rather than Jack.

She doesn’t entirely know how to explain what is going on with her and Nico, and the longer she can avoid answering questions about it in person - where she is unable to hide the flush of her cheeks or the stuttering of her words - the better.

The questions also tend to arouse that morbid curiosity she has been suppressing, the one that makes her skin itch and tongue tingle with the need to ask why?

“Timo’s throwing me a surprise party for my birthday.”

“He’s doing a real good job at the surprise aspect of it, I see.” Poppy had heard about the party before, back in early December, when there were whispers around the team of something being arranged. She’d dwelled a little too long on what excuse she could come up with to get out of going, only for an invitation never to get extended in the first place. 

It hadn’t surprised her, any ties she had to Timo, with him being one of Nico’s closest friends, had pretty much severed with the ones she had to Nico. He had no reason to invite her to the party when he knew as well as she did, Nico wouldn’t want her there.

Nico must know that she wasn’t invited, she thinks, and dread starts to bubble up within her at the conversation they’re about to have. 

She no longer has to make up an excuse or fake plans to get out of going - she has something else secured, something she won’t be able to get out of now, no matter how much she may want to.

“Jesper told me, he knows I hate surprises. It’s gonna be on Sunday.” He says with an expectant smile tugging at his lips. “Will you be there?”

“I wasn’t invited.”

“I’m inviting you now.”

“You can’t invite people to a party you’re not supposed to know about.” Poppy quickly decides the best way to go about this is to be casual, and standing outside her office waiting for tensions to rise is anything but. She starts to make her way through to the back of the offices to discard her things in the staff kitchen, Nico falling into step just behind her.

“It’s my birthday, I can do what I want.” He practically whines, his tone carrying an eyre of desperation. “C’mon, are you coming or not?”

“Not,” Poppy cringes as casual somehow sounds curt, pushing the door to the kitchen open with her shoulder, and immediately following up with, “I already have other plans that I can’t cancel.”

“You made plans on my birthday?” He sounds like he’s been kicked in the gut, and guilt starts to creep up Poppy’s spine. 

“Well, for starters, your birthday is Thursday, I’m free then.” She says in the hopes it will lessen the blow. He probably has other plans with other people, but she doesn’t mind doing something with him on the day. “And, again, I wasn’t invited, I didn’t know my plans would clash.”

She knows she isn’t being convincing. Something like this never stays a secret within the confines of the organisation they both work in, especially where their mutual friends are concerned, but she hadn’t intentionally made plans for that day specifically - she hadn’t made the plans, at all.

When she turns to face him with an outstretched hand for the cup and plate he’s holding, he has that pouty, sad puppy look etched into his features, and she wishes she’d stayed facing the other way.

“Who makes plans on a Sunday?”

“Clearly a lot of people.” She loads her things into the dishwasher, closing the door until it’s only just ajar so that it can be fully loaded before it is turned on.

“Is it with Nia? You could bring her along, I’m sure if you let Timo know-,”

“My plans aren’t with Nia, and I can’t invite a plus one to a party that I, for the third time, was not invited to.” 

She really doesn’t mean to keep harping on about it, the memory of dodging conversations about a party she hadn’t been considered for hurting her enough, but it’s the only thing she can think to say to put an end to the conversation. To her, it’s obvious - clear-cut and end-of-story level stuff - but Nico is clearly taking what she’s saying the wrong way. She isn’t trying to hint at an invitation, isn’t trying to make him feel guilty for the fact his best friend had thought he would rather not have her there - she just doesn’t want him to keep probing. She knows it’s naive to think he’ll leave it alone, though.

“I’ll talk to Timo,” Nico decides, his posture straightening.

“Nico-,”

“I doubt he’d mind any of your friends coming.”

“I have a date.”

Poppy sees no use in dancing around it any longer, not with how oblivious and determined he’s being - so insistent on her coming to a party he shouldn’t even know about. She mentally curses Jesper for even telling him about it in the first place. 

She honestly doesn’t know why she hadn’t just said it straight up to begin with, but she has a funny feeling around turning him down.

“You have a date?”

“You don’t have to say it like I’m some sort of gremlin.” Her offence is only partly a joke. She knows he didn’t mean it like that.

“This Sunday?”

“As we have already established.”

“I didn’t know you were dating.”

“You clearly need to check your emails more often, I actually sent out a state-wide memo just last week.” She sarcastically jibes.

“The last time we talked-,” he immediately cuts himself off, clearly thinking better of getting into that discussion right now after having avoided it for the past 2 days. “Who is it?”

“He’s a family friend,” she shrugs, dismissively, not really wanting to have this discussion with him either. She just wants the conversation to end, if she’s being honest. She has a lot to do with her day and the longer they stay in this small kitchenette talking about this, the less time she has to get her actual work done. Her nonchalant tone is an attempt to singe the ends the conversation, leaving no room for it to grow, but obviously this sparks a whole new topic for Nico, who just won’t let her be.

“You let your mom set you up?”

Poppy feels like a part of her has forgotten how much of her life she had shared with Nico, before. All the little nuggets of information sitting out in the ether, caught up in the cracks of their friendship. But, God, does he know her well.

The date had been an unfortunate consequence of her missing out on family Christmas - the only way her mom would forgive her was for her to finally agree to let her set her up. It’s something Poppy has been swerving for years, something she had confided in Nico about in the past - how her mom would always call her at night just to make comments about her relationships, or lack thereof, and always try to elbow her way into setting Poppy up with a well-to-do son of a socialite friend who she’d just ran into at some pointless gala.

She’d shared it all with Nico because she felt safe to do so - felt seen, felt understood.

And then, she had no one to confide in.

Maybe that had contributed to her lowering her guard to her mother’s insistence - not having anyone to vent to about it, no one to talk her down or hype her up, and so her resolve in standing up to her family has slowly but surely whittled way into fine scraps.

“Can’t avoid the inevitable forever.” She shrugs, not quite liking how disappointed in her he sounds, not daring to look over at him to see it plastered across his stupidly-handsome face. “And I’m on my final warning with her after bailing on the holidays, so I can’t get out of it this time.”

“You could bring him to the party,” Nico suggests, “I could rope the guys into helping scare him off, buy you some time until your mom springs another insufferable Wolf of Wall Street type at you in 6 months.”

“Please don’t make me tell you the same thing a fourth time. I can’t do Sunday.” She says with an inarguable finality. Although, she does find it amusing how he automatically assumes she would want him to be scared off. She’s actually resigned herself to the potential of enjoying her date - not that she’d tell Nico that. “But I’ll do whatever you want on Thursday if you have any time spare?” 

“My family are coming over, I don’t know if I’ll be free at any point.” Despite how excited for that reunion she knows he will be, he sounds discouraged. Poppy’s shoulders droop a little too. “What about now? I’m done for the day, we could grab lunch? Get some time in together before I go to DC tomorrow?”

“You say that like you’re going on a 5 week excursion to Antarctica,” she snickers, “Or like we’ve spent 10 minutes apart in the last 24 hours.”

“It may be only 90 minutes on a plane, Poppy, but an away game is an all day thing, you know this. Plus, I have a lot of time to make up for.”

Her stomach twists uncomfortably at the mention of their time apart - like it’s a sordid secret that is supposed to stay unspoken. Bringing it up just reminds her of all the times she’s sat in her office waiting for him to knock, and she doesn’t quite like how casually he manages to invoke the memory.

She knows she told him she was okay with what little explanation he had to offer, but she also knows she let him off easy. She didn’t lie, though - the amount she had missed him had far outweighed the need for answers, especially at a time where she was so unsure about the possibility of settling the tension between them in the first place.

But now, with every time he initiates contact, her mind goes straight to thinking about what had made him cut it before.

She worries about overexposure. Worries about him having time to himself, time to process and time to breathe where he isn’t stressing about keeping up appearances for her.

She wants things to return to normal, wants to spend time with him, but, if this is what had been the problem in the first place, then maybe it’s best to give him that space to cool things off a little.

“So, lunch?”

“I can’t, I have to check out potential auctioneers for this fundraiser” She doesn’t like rejecting him, especially twice within one conversation - doesn’t like the doubt and anxiety that creeps up with a small antithetical voice that warns her, don’t push him away, Poppy, he might not ask again, but she really does have to work.

The fundraiser is in March, and their in-house auctioneer, Keith had decided to enter early retirement in December, having fallen ill and developed some kind of chronic vocal nodule issue. He has already moved out of state, and was no help in offering any sort of replacement. Apparently, Poppy had been told when she called a local agency that specialised in this thing, the auction industry is cut throat - no pun intended to Keith and his nodules - and the guys would rather see their long term, loyal customers suffer than provide any kind of assistance where they had upcoming events in dire need of an auctioneer.

Elaine had thrown the task straight onto the big stack of work Poppy already has to get through for the event, knowing how much she wants to impress her boss and secure further responsibilities and opportunities for the bigger foundation events in the future.

If Poppy had known that taking this on meant trawling around Hudson County sitting in on private auctions, only able to watch, pretty much scoring a bunch of old men on how quickly and how loudly they could yell, she would have delegated it to someone else. Only, she’s run out of good graces and task-trades in the past few months with her many attempts of avoiding working with Nico, so she has to put up and shut up. It’s her own personal version of hell.

“I could come with you?”

“You want to come watch auctions with me?” She asks, in almost-disbelief.

Surely he wouldn’t be so adamant about being around her if he didn’t truly want to - but does he know what he wants?

For as much time as they had spent together before - all the times she’d watched his practices and games, all the times he’d come over to eat lunch in her office, all the events they had done together for the foundation, all the time outside of the Rock they had spent together - he had never done this. Followed her around while she worked excruciatingly mundane tasks, just because.

“Yeah, why not?” He asks, like it’s normal for him to be tagging along. 

“‘Cause you’ll get super bored?” Bored in general or bored of her, she doesn’t quite know.

“Auctions are cool, my grandma used to take me and my brother and sister to them when we were kids.” Poppy barks out an unintentional laugh, eyes narrowing as she pushes herself off where she’s resting against the dishwasher and starts back towards the door. “Why is that funny?”

“I’m just picturing you holding up one of those little paddles and getting into arguments over someone’s coin collection.”

“I was more into trains.” He shrugs, following her as she makes her way toward the stairwell in the back corner of the offices.

“Of course you were.” She chuckles. The two of them walk for a moment in silence, starting down the stairs so she can drop by the PR department - her colleague Josh in possession of a binder of external talent and the locations in which they will be auctioning today. “You don’t have anything better to be doing?” She is genuinely worried that he doesn’t quite understand what he’s signing himself up for - that he thinks this is going to be fun, and is going to end up seriously disappointed and be put off hanging out with her again. 

“Than spending time with you? Never,” That makes her stomach twist in an entirely different way. 

“Charmer,” she rolls her eyes, willing her thoughts to be quieter and her heart to beat back into a steady pace. “Fine, I’m down. You’re driving, though.”

“Of course,” he smiles victoriously, like he seriously has absolutely nothing he would rather do than drive her around for the rest of his day - even when it’s supposed to be her time making up for technically missing his birthday.

“I just have to pick something up from Josh, do you wanna meet downstairs?”

“I’ll wait for you.”

The two of them enter the offices together, and Poppy tries not to acknowledge the conveyer belt of stares as they walk through to find Josh’s desk.

Josh had done the bulk of the work on the agency end of this project, making sure the foundation weren’t aligning themselves with anyone or anything that could blow back on them, and before the holidays, the pair had worked pretty closely to try and stitch up the gaping hole in their in-house talent pool. He’d somehow turned what Poppy considered the stupidest job she had ever been given into something maybe-possibly-fun. They’d worked a couple late nights back in Poppy’s office, Josh pulling up YouTube videos of different auctions and the two of them compiling a scorecard to assess their candidates on. He was one of the few people in the department Poppy didn’t mind spending time with for a project like this.

“Poppy!” Josh’s smile is wide as he stands up from behind his desk in the corner. He rounds the edge and pulls her into his embrace as soon as she is close enough, and the smile doesn’t leave his face for as long as she’s in front of him.

“Hey, Josh,” she smiles back as she pulls away, taking a measured step back so they aren’t standing too close. “I’m just here to steal your talent binder, if that’s alright?”

“Of course!” He rushes back around his desk to his filing cabinet, using a small key on his lanyard to open it and reaching in to retrieve the folder. “The auctioneers are the blue section,” he opens the folder and points to one of the sectioning tabs, “I put them in date order, they have different time slots so you should be able to get through a couple in a day.”

“Oh, that’s so helpful, thank you!” She takes the folder from his grasp and has a quick look through. She’s so used to having to figure out her own systems of working that it’s nice to have someone else put in the effort - especially someone as organised as Josh.

She looks down at his desk, everything neat and optimally placed. She’s always thought herself as a tidy person, but her own desk is cluttered in comparison. Where her pens are haphazardly thrown in the pot, some upside down, ends chewed to oblivion, his are all the right way up, capped with a lid and looking fresh out of the packet. He has no personal items, no picture frames, no Jack Hughes bobblehead that’s starting to get a bald patch from where it’s continuously set off throughout the day. There’s nothing pinned to the walls of his little cubby, but she supposes in his line of work, he doesn’t have kids that draw him stick-figure versions of himself and send them in as a thank you, or pictures from team events. 

“If you don’t find anyone by Friday, I have some time free in the morning, I could come help you?”

“I’ll try keep you posted,” she offers as a hopefully gentle rejection. She likes Josh, doesn’t mind his company, but he’ll most definitely steam-roll her into a decision, and if she’s going to spend her whole week doing this, she wants the end result to be of her own choosing. “But I think I’ll be alright.”

She has completely forgotten who she’d brought into the office with her until she hears a snorting laugh from behind her - a quick puff of air blown from his nose in amusement - and sees Josh’s eyes divert from her figure for the first time since he’d seen her come through.

“Oh! Hello, Nico, I didn’t see you there!”

“Joshua,” is the only thing he says in response, and when Poppy turns her head back to look at him, he wears an uncomfortable, clearly forced smile. His eyes don’t crinkle, cheeks don’t dimple, and his nose is scrunched in something akin to distain. 

She quickly remembers something Luke had once said to her about how much he hated dealing with the PR team, how they make him feel like a puppet and dismiss his autonomy - definitely not the word he had used at the time but she figured that’s what he was trying to get at - and realises Nico must feel the same. In an effort to quickly ease the tension, she takes a step back toward her friend. “We have to go, thanks again, Josh!”

She hears him call a response after her, throwing a wave behind her as she gently nudges Nico back toward the exit. The two of them make it to the parking lot in an almost comfortable silence, Poppy not wanting to call him out on his rude behaviour when she’d been the one to inadvertently force him into an environment that usually only brought him stress. 

If she brings it up, she brings attention to it, and he potentially realises she pushes him out of his comfort zone where it brings him no benefit and he stops wanting to be around her.

The way in which her thoughts so quickly spiral out of control when it comes to him is something that needs to be studied, she thinks.

He opens every door in the building for her, and even when they get to his car, he does the same.

When she’s jumping into the passenger seat, and she realises she doesn’t have to adjust it - already set into the optimal position for her to stretch out her legs - and notices the smiley face air freshener hung from his rear-view, from a multi-coloured multipack she had bought for him forever ago, she takes a deep breath.

She can’t let herself keep doing this - keep thinking and thinking to the point of exhaustion that everything she’s doing is wrong. 

She’s spending too much time with him, and he’s going to get bored of her. She’s not spending enough time with him, and he’s going to stop asking if she rejects him one too many times. The time she is spending with him is doing boring, mundane things and he’d rather be anywhere else.

She has to push her doubts and anxiety to the back of her mind and tell herself those oh-so-annoying words her brother loves so much.

Beggars can’t be choosers, Poppy.

If she wants Nico back in her life, has already promised him her forgiveness and initiated their reconciliation, she can’t be picky about how he goes about acting on it, can she? She just has to embrace the attention in the hopes it doesn’t go away, again. 

Their drive to the first venue hadn't taken long, a stroke of luck with minimal traffic at this time of day. They find a perfect parking space just around the corner from the auction house, and after a short, brisk walk, they step into the welcoming warmth of the building. Nico holds the door open for Poppy, his gesture gentle yet firm, ushering her inside before closing it securely behind her.

“What’s the game plan?” He asks, lowly, his broad shouldered stature towering over hers as he steps up behind her. They hadn’t talked too much on the way over, Nico lining up a playlist that drifted through the speakers of the car and filled the air around them so there was little need for words.

She can’t figure out if she’s thankful for the reprieve in conversation or nervous over what he could possibly be thinking so hard about.

“Didn’t I warn you how dull this would be? There is no game plan.” Poppy peels the gloves from her hands and puts them in a bundle in her pocket, looking around the entrance to assess their situation. She was told by a woman at the agency that her name would be given to the guy who sits in the front of the auction house, but it’s completely empty.

“Surely there’s a way to make it fun,” Nico wonders.

“I’ll leave that to you to figure out,” she chuckles, eyes cast towards the entrance to the auction hall where someone has just come through the doors.

The guy is young, short, gelled blonde hair, thick framed glasses sitting atop a sharp nose, and dressed in a 3-piece navy suit. He fits the exact description she had been given of the guy who would be in the front-of-house. “Hi, can I help you?”

“Hi, are you Mason?” She asks, stepping forward as he approaches.

He startles only slightly, not as if he hadn’t been expecting anyone, but as if Poppy and Nico didn’t quite fit the image of who he had been anticipating. “Polly?” He asks, stepping to the side of the two of them to his desk, he shuffles through some notes scattered across the surface.

“Poppy,” she corrects with an awkward laugh, shuffling the binder she’s carrying between her hands so she has one spare to extend out to him.

“Like the flower,” Nico pipes up from behind her, his tone short and direct, earning him a quick glance back from Poppy.

“What he said,” she chuckles as Mason takes her hand in his, giving it a firm, friendly shake as amusement shines in his eyes. “I was told by Ruth Kennedy I could come sit in on an auction to watch Mr-,” she quickly flicks through her binder for the name, “Byrne?”

“Of course, Ruth said you’d be stopping by, it’s nice to meet you, Poppy.” The smile he offers is charming, maintaining eye contact with her until her cheeks warmed with the depth in which she was being perceived. 

“You too,” she offers a smile, again tucking her binder into the crook of her elbow before gesturing behind her. “This is Nico, we’re here representing the New Jersey Devils, he captains the team.”

Poppy can’t help the instinct to gush about Nico, and it’s only when she sees something flicker across Mason’s face that she realises she’s doing it - a force of habit.

“I know, we’re big hockey fans around here.” Mason stretches his arm toward Nico, and the way their hands clap together as they shake is loud enough to echo in the otherwise empty entryway. 

Nico says nothing as he retracts his arm, crossing them both over his chest and narrowing his eyes at the man in front of them. How he had gone from non-stop yapping back in Poppy’s office to whatever this is, she doesn’t know. Doesn’t want to think about, through fear she’ll find a way to blame herself - but he’s being standoffish and cold. 

“That’s great,” Poppy glances curiously back at Nico before turning back to Mason, “Is Mr Byrne back there?” She gestures to the doors he had just come through, raising a questioning brow.

“They’re taking a quick recess while some pieces are being brought through, you’re welcome to take a look around before they start back up. There’s a few guests in the gallery at the moment, it’s just through the doors to the right once you get through the entrance.”

“Oh, perfect, thank you!” Poppy offers her quick gratitude before looking back to Nico, checking in that he’s going to follow, and setting off with him through the doors at the back end of the room. 

Nico remains quiet as they make their way through to the back of the building, a complete 180 to his mood from earlier, and Poppy keeps glancing over at him, worrying about what’s caused the shift in his persona until she flat out asks, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, letting his hands sink into the pockets of his jacket as he takes in the art that lines the walls around them. 

“C’mon, Nico, out with it,” she nudges him with her hip.

“I don’t know, I just have bad vibes from this place.”

She knows that’s not what’s gotten him down - he was quiet back at the Rock - but the alternative is that he’s being grumpy because she’s missing his birthday, and she doesn’t want to enter into that conversation again and repeat herself for the umpteenth time. “They’re selling a bunch of dead people’s stuff, of course you have bad vibes.”

“It’s not the stuff,” he mumbles, looking back towards the doors they had just come through as Poppy ventures deeper into the room. The first display case she comes across houses some sort of fine china tea set - a complete collection, it looks like, with the pot, cups and plates all matching. It looks like something her mother would like - would display in her own cabinet, to collect dust and never to be touched - and for a brief moment, she considers what the price might be of winning her affections this way and bailing out on Sunday.

The next display case has a sculpture of some sort, as do most of the others she sees as she walks through the gallery, Nico following her silently, not seeming to take anything in until he hears Poppy let out a soft gasp.

“Nico, look!” She beckons him into her space with an outstretched arm, placing it on his back when he’s close enough and leaning into him slightly. “It’s a model train!”

She watches as his eyes flit over the figure in the case, head tilting as he reads something on the side. “It’s the Hogwarts Express,” he mutters with a reminiscent smile.

“Sounds fancy, is that a good one?”

“Are you kidding me?” Their eyes meet, and he looks down at her in confusion, “Harry Potter, Poppy.”

“Oh, duh!” She takes another look, still not really recognising it. “I never saw the movies.”

“You never-,” Nico takes a short step back, turning to face her fully as her hand falls back to her side. “You’ve never seen Harry Potter?”

“Well, I’ve seen one of them,” she corrects herself, “But they killed the owl and the little hobbit thing, I didn’t wanna watch the rest and get attached.”

“Dobby was a house elf,” he gasps in offence, “How do you only watch the second to last movie?”

“A group of friends went to watch it, I didn’t wanna be left out.” She tells him before realising she has an opportunity to poke fun at him. “Nico Hischier, are you a Harry Potter dork?”

“It’s Potterhead, Poppy.”

“Oh, so you’re a big time Harry Potter dork.” He shoves at her half-heartedly, breaking out into a smile when she giggles at her own taunts. “They even have a name for your level of nerd."

“Don’t act like I’m the weirdo, you’re the one who hasn’t seen one of the single biggest movie franchises ever made. What next, you haven’t heard Thriller?”

“Shut up,” she scoffs, shoving him back. “How can you say it’s bad vibes in here when they have your favourite auction item from your favourite movies? It’s fate!”

“They’re not my favourite movies,” he rolls his eyes, stepping back into her side as he notices other people in the gallery start to make their way through to the auction room. “It is a cool train, though."

She watches his face intently as he admires the train again, angling his head to take a thorough look at it. Her eyes flicker over the warmth of his own eyes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the sharpness of his jaw, and before she knows what she’s saying, before she can overthink it, she says, “We could watch them together, some time?”

It’s the first time she’s suggested any kind of plans with him, Nico initiating everything they’ve done together so far in the past couple of days, but there’s a remnant of guilt in the forefront of her mind, and she feels the need to make plans that he would enjoy to make up for how she’d disappointed him, earlier. Sharing something he had grown up with, and hoping she might enjoy it, too.

“I’d like that, Mohn,” he gives an easy smile, this time enough for dimples to well in his cheeks. He swings an arm over her shoulders, pulling her in the direction he had seen the others go, and the two of them make their way into the auction room, taking a seat in the back row.

The chairs are close together, close enough that when they sit, their thighs press together, and to avoid his arm getting squished between them, he slings it over the back of her seat.

Poppy opens up the binder she has on her lap, flicking to the blue section and finding the page dedicated to Mr Byrne. 

Works between New York and New Jersey, been in the industry for over 20 years, specialises in the auction of art, artefacts and memorabilia. 

“He looks perfect on paper,” she whispers, Nico craning his head down to hear her better. “Definitely not bad vibes.”

“We’ll see.”

They sit through a round of the auction like school children, whispering and giggling at the back of the classroom. Nico hands Poppy a paddle from the seat beside him, and any time someone throws them a dirty look, she raises it to drive up whatever they bid on. 

It’s a lot more fun than she had anticipated, and she finds herself forgetting why she had been worried about spending time with him in the first place.

The auctioneer is good, too. He’s professional, but has some personality - enough for her not to feel the passing of time like she is counting every tick of a clock, and before she knows it, he’s wrapping up for another recess.

“I think I like him,” she comments, head raising from where it had drooped onto Nico’s shoulder. “Plus, this place is quite nice, he has to be good for them to use him.”

“Hm,” Nico offers back, clearly in disagreement about something. 

“Please don’t tell me he’s bad vibes, I might have to hit you.”

“Not him, the guy at the front,” Nico says, “He’s a Rangers fan, I saw the mug on his desk.”

Poppy snorts out a laugh, shoving lightly at his chest. “Well, as much of a red flag as that may be, we can’t veto the perfect candidate just because someone who happens to work in the same building might have poor taste. Could have been anyone’s mug, could have been an auction item they couldn’t shift.”

“Regardless of where it came from, the man drinks his coffee from filth,” Nico frowns, and Poppy tries her best not to snicker at his theatrics. “What if they’re all Rangers fans, and we invite them into our home for them to fleece us of all our money.”

She reaches to yank his cap off his head and inspects the inner lining, his hair fluffing out onto his forehead as he pouts and tries to get it back. 

“Hey, what the hell?”

“Just checking for tin foil,”

“What does that mean?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she mutters, affectionately, putting the hat back into place atop his head and making sure it’s straight. “We have another auction we could check today, do you think you can behave?”

“I’ll be good.” He promises.

“No more bone crushing handshakes or pouting or judging people’s choice of crockery?”

“Crockery?”

“The mug, Nico,” her lips twist, fondly.

“Ah, we’ll see.” He sighs. “I can’t make any promises when it comes to the Rangers, you know this, Mohn.”

Poppy checks quickly in on Mr Byrne at the other side of the room, he’s talking to Mason from the front-of-house, and she meets his gaze when he gestures over to her. “I need to check something with Mason before we leave, could you wait by the door for me?”

“As long as you wash your hands before you come back.”

She shoves at his arm before setting off away from him to exchange contact information, thankful, despite Nico’s hesitance around the matter, that she has seemingly found the right fit. 

She might just have to have a quick word about his NHL team preferences before confirming anything.

Nico

Nico likes to think of himself as a level-headed person. He takes the time to mentally deliberate over things before he reacts to them, he doesn’t get consumed by annoyance or anger, doesn’t let emotions overwhelm him to the point of lashing out.

And, if he does react, he does so rationally - rarely crosses a line or goes too far over the top that he skews the balance of whatever power within him has caused things to escalate.

It shows in the way he plays - in the way he leads his team in a cool, calm, collected manner - and rarely does he ever make the first hit when it comes to a fight.

It had been something his older brother, Luca, had taught him when he was a kid, fighting in the rink is all well and good, sometimes needs must, just don’t be the dumbass to start something he can’t finish. Not only will it get someone a bad rep throughout the league, and a penalty from the refs, it could get them into serious trouble when it comes to recovery.

Take his injury back in October, for example. He’d taken a pretty gnarly hit to the head in the first period of a game against the Sabres, and, not that he had been able to react much at the time, he hadn’t let his frustrations get the better of him. The refs gave out the appropriate penalty, and as much as it sucked that he was out for almost a month dealing with the repercussions of the illegal check and a further hit in the second period, he had to deal with it and move on. But if he’d have retaliated on the ice, Lord knows how much worse his injury could have been, or how much longer he would have needed to recover.

So, all that to say, when situations arise and his temper flares, he can usually keep his cool.

But this week, or the latter end of the week, at least, something dark has started to swirl within him, and he’s reacting in ways he never usually would. 

Some childish, petulant part of him that is buried under many layers of bravado and strength, is doing its best to push through and rear its ugly head. 

 If he’s honest with himself, he knows where it had started. 

New Years Day he had woken up and his first thought had been of Poppy. He wanted to see her again, wanted to hang out for as long as she’d have him, carry on their conversations that had carried on until the early hours of the morning - and so he had text her pretty much straight away, asked if he could come over with the promise of bringing breakfast.

When he’d gotten into her apartment building, he had taken the stairs, his legs lead by muscle memory to the achingly familiar door, and he had rapped his knuckles in a melodic knock, one he’d hoped she would remember and recognise as his signature.

Only, when the door sprung open, Poppy wasn’t the one behind it. And, thanking all that is holy, Nico was relieved to see it wasn’t her mother, either.

A guy stood before him, dark, short hair, black-rimmed glasses, just a touch taller than Nico, himself, broad shouldered and, Nico could admit, dashingly handsome. He was dressed in gym gear, Lululemon fitted t-shirt stretched across his chest, and pace breaker shorts clinging to muscular thighs.

He wasn’t usually one to check out another guy like this, but the expectation of seeing Poppy and being on the receiving end of this Adonis had him in a state of shock.

She had said she had Nia over, she hadn’t said anyone else would be here.

“Can I help you?” The guy had asked, leaning on the door jamb and looking Nico up and down with an inquisitive stare. 

He had a sickening sense of deja-vu, the last time he had heard those words in this doorway, Poppy had soon come to his rescue, but as he tried to get a look past into the apartment, it didn’t seem like that would happen.

“Is Poppy home?” He couldn’t help but phrase it like a question, never sounding so unsure of himself in his life. If he had thought Poppy’s mother was intimidating, this was like that situation on speed. The thought of another man, a man as fucking gorgeous as this one, being in Poppy’s life - in her apartment, no less - made his throat go a little dry.

“You’re here for Poppy?” The guy asked, looking Nico up and down, eyes lingering on the drinks holder and paper bag in hand. Nico doesn’t entirely know why him saying her name made him feel so much worse. He could only nod in response. “She must not have changed her details on the app,” he shook his head, but it was less in annoyance and more in fond acknowledgement, “She’s upstairs now, 6B, not 5.”

There was a quick flood of relief, ignoring the fact this man thought Nico was a PostMates delivery, he let out a nervous laugh.

“Right, sorry for bothering you.” He went to move back towards the stairs, but was very quickly stopped in his tracks.

“I can take it up for you? I have a dish of hers I need to take up there, anyway.”

The dry feeling returned immediately. 

Who is this guy and why does he have one of Poppy’s dishes? 

Nico had found himself broadening his own shoulders, perfecting his posture as to come across more sure of himself than the other times he had spoke. “You’re good, man, we have breakfast plans.” He lifted the bag as if to give him a hint, “I can take the dish if you want.”

He would rather be loaded up like a pack horse than have Clark Kent stop by later and interrupt his time with Poppy.

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a lifesaver!” The guy retreated into Poppy’s old apartment and came back out with a clean casserole dish. “I thought you were a delivery guy, I didn’t know she was seeing someone, my bad.”

Nico hadn’t corrected him.

“No worries,” He’d taken the dish from his hands, balancing it in the crook of his elbow. “Have a nice day.”

He’d trudged up to Poppy’s new apartment, knocking on the door with his elbow when he made it - unable to do his usual knock with the amount he was holding.

Nia has been the one to answer the door this time, and Nico’s mood hadn’t lifted until he was ushered into the apartment and saw Poppy in the flesh.

She was still in her pyjamas, always keeping her place warm enough that she could lounge around in loose fitted shorts, and was sat at her kitchen counter typing away on her phone. When she looked up at Nico, any soreness, any tightness or unease had dissipated from his body at the wide smile that broke out across her face.

“Hi!” She had practically leapt up from the stool she was sat on and thrown her arms around him - the warmest greeting he had received from her in recent memory. 

“Hey.” He juggled what was in his hands, stepping around her slightly, still in her embrace, to quickly put the things on the counter so he could hug her back. His large hands took up immediate residence on the small of her back, rubbing comfortingly until she pulled away.

“Missed you,” he muttered as she craned her head up to look at him, and he found himself beaming down at her, cheeks feeling warm when he took in how her own smile lingered.

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed, lightly shoving him away before turning to see what he had put behind her. She didn’t believe him, but he had planned to keep saying it until she did. 

“Please tell me there’s something bad for me in that bag,” Nia had spoken up from behind him, voice groggy, movements sluggish as she rounded into the kitchen to assess what Nico had brought over with him. 

“Sure, as long as you still like those breakfast wraps from the bagel shop round the corner.” 

“The Spanish one?” Nia had gasped, reaching into the bag and pulling out something foil-wrapped. 

“You might wanna heat it up a little,” he suggested, and before he could finish his sentence, she was crossing over to the stove on the other side of the kitchen. As she clattered around trying to find a pan to fry it off and melt the cheese, Nico turned to Poppy, who was also eyeing the bag.

For as long as he’d known Poppy, she was a light breakfast, hearty lunch kind of girl - and, considering she hadn’t mentioned being hungover, herself, when they had messaged that morning, he didn’t think she would want anything big.

“I got you an apple-cinnamon twist.”

She had given him one of those smiles that made his chest feel tight, an acknowledgement of his efforts in recalling her preferences, and he had gulped down any further words in an attempt to relieve himself of the need to choke.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

He didn’t think he’d ever heard her use that phrase before, and he’d tried to let the weight of her smile and gratitude push down on that creeping feeling of envy and bitterness that was building within him.

The guy downstairs had said the same thing. The guy in Poppy’s old apartment.

“You didn’t tell me you’d moved.”

“Oh, shit, is that why you have my lasagne dish?” She had huffed out a guilty laugh, “Sorry, it was in November, I thought Jack and Luke would have told you, they helped me lug all my stuff up here and still hold it against me.” He watched as she picked out one of the juices and took a sip, “Peter and I switched, he needed a smaller space ‘cause him and his girlfriend split, and I’d been wanting to upgrade for a while. I should have told you when you text before.”

Peter. Newly-single, built like a Greek statue, and close enough that Poppy was loaning him cookware, Peter. The name rings with a sinister tone throughout his inner thoughts.

And Jack and Luke, the traitors, had dedicated probably a whole day of their scarcely-free time to help Poppy move and never so much as mentioned it in front of him. 

If he wasn’t so much of an idiot, he could have helped, too - but it would be pointless to dwell too much on that. He couldn’t turn back time, could only dedicate more of it to showing Poppy he wasn’t going anywhere, again, and she could rely on him from then on.

That had been the first layer of bricks laid in Nico’s ever-building foul mood throughout the week.

The second had been in Poppy’s office the following day. He’d let himself in, just like he used to, and tried to busy himself while Poppy’s attention was on a work call. 

He had perused the walls, eyeing over drawings sent in to the foundation from the kids they helped and worked with - drawings of the Prudential Center, of the Devils logo, little stick figures labelled as Poppy and whichever kid had drawn them, some other drawings - a couple in particular catching his eye of her with other players; one of her with Luke, one of her with Jack, one of her with Dawson and Holtzy, seemingly from development sessions she had hosted or attended with them over the past few months. And then, some actual pictures scattered in the mix. Poppy with Curtis and Dougie, Poppy with Jack at the Christmas Toy Drive, Poppy with Luke, John and Holtzy in full gear, that looked like it was taken at one of the games. 

When he had sat in front of her desk, and the little bobblehead version of Jack was staring smugly back at him, he had started to feel like his bones didn’t fit right in his skin. 

He’d remembered seeing Jack lounging across the exact chair he had thrown himself into, back when he’d stumbled across him and Poppy talking in her office the week before, and he couldn’t shake the thought of his lingering presence in Poppy’s space - Poppy’s space that didn’t have a single trace of Nico’s existence.

Whatever bitterness was starting to brew was only exacerbated by the revelation that Poppy was going to miss his birthday party because she had a date.

Poppy Jensen.

Dating.

On his birthday, no less.

For as long as he had known her, Poppy had never had any serious relationships. There had been dates here, flings there, but she was committed more to herself and her career than anything else, and would especially never take her own mother up on her advances to set her up.

His stomach had started to turn at the thought of it. She’d always been so resolute in her refusal when it came to her mom - had always been strong-willed and defiant, knowing that, even with what she argued were the best intentions, Priscilla Jensen didn’t have the first clue about what kind of person Poppy wanted to, or would suit to, be with.

But what if, after all this time, Poppy’s mom actually did have a clue?

What if she and whatever Page 6, heir-to-a-small-fortune, business-school-graduate son of a socialite-friend of her mother’s hit it off?

She’d have no time for Nico if she started dating someone, surely.

Can’t avoid the inevitable, she had said - and he hadn’t liked it. He’d wished she would have looked at him so she could tell how much he didn’t like it.

Poppy had never believed in the inevitable, before. She forged her own path. It was one of the many things he loved and admired about her.

And, apparently, she’d forged her own path straight down into the PR offices one too many times, because the way Josh had reacted to seeing her when they ventured down - springing out of his seat like an excitable puppy that had caught sight of a tennis ball - made his stomach crawl.

He knew he hated dealing with the PR team for a reason. Josh was giving off major creeper energy, inviting himself along to watch auctions with Poppy as if she wasn’t capable of doing it on her own. And, he had barely even acknowledged Nico was there the whole time, which was rude in and of itself. 

And then, as if the universe hadn’t been cruel enough to him in the past 2 days, he had to watch some leech at the auction house look over Poppy like she was a piece of meat - eyes wandering from head to toe, taking his time to take every part of her in, while Nico stood behind her willing the steam not to blow from his ears.

Bad vibes.

And that judgement was made before he saw the hideous mug on the guy’s desk.

He had felt off for the rest of that day - when he and Poppy had gone to view another auction, only for them to find out Josh had gotten one of the dates wrong, and they’d driven all the way up to North Bergen for nothing. 

He had felt off when he took Poppy out for dinner - the two of them sat facing one another in the cosy corner of an Italian bistro they had found on their way back to Jersey City, sharing breadsticks and conversing over pasta and gelato for dessert - and he tried not to overthink the way the waiter purposely brushed her hand whenever he took the menu back. Had tried to live in the moment of being able to watch the flicker of the candle between them in her irises, and how she so intently listened to whatever he had to say like it was the most important thing in the world.

He had felt off when he dropped Poppy back at the Rock to get her car, splitting with a hug over the centre console just like old times, a quick peck to his forehead and a kiss to her crown, her promising to text him when she got home - and as he watched to make sure she got in her car okay, he had noticed her looking down at her phone and smiling at a message he hadn’t been the one to send.

How he had managed to pull himself together to play the Capitals, to score two goals and for the team to bag a great away win, he doesn’t know.

But the off-feeling returns on the quick flight back to New Jersey.

As he sits on his own, headphones on, distancing himself from the rowdy celebrations of his teammates, he types and un-types too many messages to Poppy.

Will you still be awake in an hour?

Can I come over?

Do you want to come over?

Just saw Harry Potter is on Netflix now.

Can I see you?

Facetime when I’m home?

For some unknown reason, it feels like a matter of urgency that he has to see her, or at least speak to her, tonight, before his entire day tomorrow is taken up by plans with his family.

He has waited for them to make the trip out from Switzerland since seeing them in the summer, but now, when it’s potentially the only time he can celebrate his birthday with Poppy, it’s starting to feel like an inconvenience.

She was the one that had offered to do something, so she should no doubt be down to see him, but it will be late by the time he gets back, and the last thing he wants to do is inconvenience her.

It’s when he has just sent a simple, Hey, and is watching intently for the read receipt and the 3 little bubbles to pop up that Jesper drops into the seat next to him.

“Timo needs you to reply to his texts,” he sighs, running a hand through his light hair. “Something to do with Sunday, says he’s on a time crunch and needs to know something from you.”

“Can’t, I’m ignoring him.” 

“And why would you be ignoring Timo?” Jesper snorts, turning in the chair, intrigued as to why his captain has all of a sudden started behaving like a child.

“He didn’t invite Poppy to my party.” Nico shrugs, eyes remaining on his screen and still waiting. It isn’t that late yet, and Poppy always has her phone on her.

“Right,” he drags out, eyes shifting quickly to glance down at Nico’s screen until it’s tilted away from him. “You weren’t exactly speaking to Poppy when he put the list together, Nico, you can’t blame him for that.” 

Nico knows he can’t blame Timo, but he doesn’t want to blame himself, so he is left with no other choice than to let the resentment bubble toward someone else. 

“And we can just add her now, it’s no big deal, I’ll text him so it’s not obvious you’re asking.”

“She has plans, now.” Nico scowls. It doesn’t matter how much he knows he’s being an idiot about it, he wants Poppy there on Sunday, wants to celebrate his birthday with his best friend, and now he can’t.

“Okay, so what’s the big deal?”

“She wouldn’t have made plans if she were invited in the first place.”

“You’re losing me.”

“She has a date.” He huffs out, bitterly, the word souring on his tongue. A date she might never have agreed to if Timo had asked her to come in the first place. “And she won’t cancel it.” Can’t, won’t, doesn’t want to, it’s all semantics.

“Oh.” Jesper frowns, then follows with another exclamation. “Oh!” Loud enough, this time, to capture the attention of Jack and Luke on the next row over.

“Yeah, oh.” Nico scoffs, “It’s Timo’s fault.”

“Since when does PJ date?” Jack asks, inserting himself into the conversation, him and Luke both leaning over to truly immerse themselves in the discussion. 

Probably since she developed friendships with guys in the PR department who colour code documents to please her, and get wide eyed and bushy tailed at the mere sight of her. Or since she attracted the attention of fancy auction house hosts dressed to the nines with charming smiles and prolonged handshakes. Or maybe since she played house-swap with her gym-buff movie-star looking single-and-clearly-looking-for-love neighbour. Nico thinks, at one point when they were outside walking back to his car after the second auction house had been closed, he’d even seen a flirtatious pigeon make advances towards her.

How is she not supposed to date people when every person she bumps into is putting moves on her?

“I don’t know.” He mutters, checking his phone again only to see a big fat bunch of nothing.

“And you want to date her?” Luke asks, perpetual confusion etched into his features.

“What? No!” He denies before he can even think about it.

“Right,” Jesper drags out again in a way that is starting to get on Nico’s nerves. “So, what’s the problem again?”

“If she starts dating someone, she’s gonna spend all her time with them and not have any time left for me.”

“Oh, so like how you were with Talia?” Nico thought Jack was the unfiltered one in the Hughes family, but with every time he talks to Luke, he is quickly proven wrong. Jack speaks to purposely stir the pot, Luke doesn’t even realise he’s doing it - just calls Nico out like it’s nothing - and he doesn’t know which is worse.

Nico can’t help but grimace, the mention of his behaviour over the past few months serving only to humiliate him and make him feel worse. He doesn’t need to feel worse. “It’s not the same.”

“Because you like her.” 

“Dude,” Jack scoffs at his little brother’s brazenness. Jesper smirks knowingly beside Nico.

“I don’t-,” Nico can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, feeling unknowingly uncomfortable at the thought of flat out shutting that down. “It’s just weird, I’ve known her a lot longer than you have, okay, Poppy doesn’t date.”

“Poppy’s hot,” Luke says it as if he’s saying the sky is blue. Jesper snorts out the sip of his water he had just taken and Jack throws his head into his hands. “Of course she dates.”

“Excuse me?” Nico almost chokes, himself.

“You all have eyes,” Luke scoffs. 

“I don’t use them to look at Poppy, she’s like my sister, which means she’s like your sister.”

“She’s hot, and she’s funny, and she’s cool, and why she wastes her time hanging around any of us, or even caring about any of us in the first place, I don’t know. Whatever guy she’s dating is a lucky fucker, it’s normal to be jealous.”

“Sounds like you like her,” Nico challenges with a hardened jaw, trying to hide the clench of his fists by pressing his hands down either side of his legs. It’s a date, she isn’t dating. The latter end of Luke’s statement doesn’t even register in his subconscious thoughts. 

“Yeah, what exactly are you getting at?” Jack questions his brother, an amused glint in his eye.

“I don’t want to be the person to call his captain an idiot,” Luke sighs, throwing himself back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You think I’m an idiot?” Nico scoffs, unable to gauge the level of offence he wants to take at the younger Hughes’ outburst.

“I think you’re being an idiot, there’s a slight difference.”

“Just so you know, Schao, I take no responsibility for my brother’s stupidity. His opinions are his own.” Jack interrupts, holding his hands up as if surrendering.

“You literally said earlier you think he’s being a dumbass,” Luke argues, more than ready to throw his brother under the bus. If he’s going down, Jack’s coming with him.

“Whoa,” Jack shoots a wide eyed, panicked look over to his captain, “He’s misquoting me, that’s fake news.”

“You think I’m a dumbass?”

“Being a dumbass,” Jack corrects, “Luke’s right, there’s a difference. Using the right words is important, here.”

“You two have a death wish.” Jesper chuckles, reclining in his seat to observe the circus in front of him, happy he isn’t the one to have to call Nico out, for once.

“Please enlighten me, how am I being a dumbass?”

“We’ve just won an away game with 6 goals, two of which you scored. This whole plane has been celebrating the result, and you’ve been sat here with your bottom lip out, pouting over a girl you won’t even admit to yourself that you like.” Jack is the first to speak up, but Luke soon takes over - the two of them laying into Nico like they’ve been rehearsing. 

“All because she has a date.” Luke mimics Nico’s previous whining. “All because the two of you have wasted all those years that you’ve known her longer than I have pretending you aren’t like crazy into each other.”

As the two of them bounce between each other, Nico takes a second to think about what they’re saying - or, specifically, what Luke is saying.

It’s his rookie year. Sure, he’d played a couple games at the end of last season, but he hadn’t really been around to witness Nico and Poppy in the depths of their friendship before the summer. How did he know how long the two of them had wasted pretending not to be into each other?

“She’s into me?” 

“For Christ’s sake,” Luke mutters, rolling his eyes, “I changed my mind, I do think you’re an idiot.”

“Has she said that?”

“Not in those words,”

“Then how do you know?” Nico questions, leaning forward in his seat.

It’s Jesper who counters this time. “C’mon, Nico,” he scoffs, “You can’t be serious, right now.”

“Yeah, Cap, there’s oblivious and then there’s downright brainless.” Jack chimes in. “She was so cut up about you and Talia she turned into a full-blown recluse. Party Poppy didn’t come to any team hang-out for months.”

“And if she did, she’d just sulk in a corner and slip out early. She didn’t even do anything for her birthday, last year. Poppy loves her birthday. Timo was looking forward to weaselling in on her plans.” 

Nico remembers going out for Timo’s birthday - some haphazard, last minute gathering at a bar in Hoboken, just after the season had kicked off. He remembers Talia grumbling to him, wanting to leave to go meet up with some of her friends in New York, and so he had given in and they had dipped out. Timo had said he didn’t mind. Nico had assumed Poppy would have joined the team, later - her and Timo sharing a birthday week - but had never actually checked in the end to see if she had. Had she spent her birthday alone, too? All to avoid having to see him with Talia?

“And even if we’re ignoring the whole Talia thing, back when you two were close, she’d do things with you she’d never do with the rest of us. The first time I ever saw her apartment was when I was helping her move out of it, you were there all the time.”

“I’ve never even seen it,” Jesper adds.

“And she has pictures of you in her apartment, doesn’t have any of me and I’m her favourite teammate.”

Nico doesn’t remember seeing any photos in her apartment - can only remember the ones at work, the ones of everybody but him. 

He thought she’d erased all evidence of his existence in her life - but had she just moved it some place more sacred, more intimate?

“None of us have met her family, either. You’ve met them several times.”

“You don’t really want to meet them, trust me,” he mutters, suppressing a shudder when thinking about all his encounters with the Jensen clan. “Why have you gone quiet all of a sudden?” Nico wants to hear what Luke has to say about it, having a sneaking suspicion that he holds the most damning evidence of all.

Poppy has said something to him. 

He wouldn’t be being as hard on Nico if she hadn’t.

But, if he thinks hard enough about it, he can’t recall seeing them hang out that much. He’s seen her more with Jack, and sure, there were the pictures with Luke in her office, but why would she confide in him of all people? Why not his brother - or, better yet, why would she not just tell Nia and leave anyone from the team out of it?

“I think you need to be speaking to Poppy about this.”

And as if manifesting it on his captain’s behalf, Luke’s words bring forward a brief buzz to the phone now in Nico’s lap.

He looks down at the screen, heartbeat slowly but surely regulating itself as he reads the messages.

Poppy: Hey congrats on the win!!💖

Poppy: I know you’re busy tomorrow but can I see you tonight??

Poppy: Might have a gift for you 👀

Nico: I’ll come to you 😊❤️ 

Maybe Luke is right - he needs to talk to Poppy about it.

Nico takes the steps up to Poppy’s apartment two at a time, tired muscles from playing and travelling be damned, and when he makes it to her floor, he finds her leaning against her already open doorway, waiting for him.

The flight home had dragged despite being so short, the coach back to the Rock seemed to move at the pace of a push bike in low gear, and he had hit every red light on his own drive from the arena - but all that dwindles away into a distant memory when he sees her.

“Did you stalk me on find my friends?” He asks, closing the gap from the stairs to her front door, wondering how she had known when he got here.

“You know me so well,” she jests, opening her arms and stepping into him, wrapping them around his shoulders and squeezing when he embraces her back. 

His arms circle around her waist, and he fights the urge to lift her and spin her around in a demonstration of his own elation.

“I’ve missed you,” he speaks lowly into the top of her head. He thinks he could say it a million times and it won’t be enough. 

“You saw me yesterday,” she mumbles into his chest, stepping back without loosening her grip around him so they waddle through into her apartment together.

“Too long.”

“You’ve been texting me all day.”

“Not enough.”

He manages to softly kick the door closed behind them, hearing the soft click of the automatic lock.

“Are you hungry?” She asks, finally stepping out of his hold and stepping through her apartment towards her kitchen.

He does usually have a snack before settling in for the night after he gets home from an away game, but he doesn’t want to put Poppy out this late, especially knowing she has work in the morning and he has most of the day off.

“I’m good,” he follows her into the kitchen, where she seems to be ignoring him, swinging open the refrigerator and reaching inside for something. She hides whatever she’s taken, closing the door behind him and moving it to the counter, shielding it from his view with her body.

He’s too distracted by the feeling of his chest swelling to try to peak. He notices pictures stuck with magnets to the door - pictures of the two of them, alone and in groups, scattered between different notes like appointment cards and an invitation to a baby shower.

It’s only a slight burst of heat in front of his face that diverts his attention, eyes straining to focus on the small flickering flame of a birthday candle stuck into a blueberry muffin. 

“Happy birthday!” Poppy squeals, holding the small plate in front of him. 

“Is this my gift?” He chuckles, blowing out the candle and taking the plate from her hands.

“Nope, wait here,” she rushes out of the kitchen and he pinches the candle from the muffin, placing it to the side of the plate so he can break off a piece and throw it into his mouth.

He recognises it from the bakery down the street from Poppy’s apartment, a place they’d once frequented together when craving something sweet, and the taste takes him straight back to their little table by the window, so small their knees would knock as they sat beside each other, chatting over mini muffins and coffees.

He rounds the corner of the kitchen island to check out the photo frames on Poppy’s bookshelf that takes up most of the wall connecting to the back rooms of her apartment. 

It’s a new piece of furniture, way too big to have been in her old apartment, and she’s decorated the shelves not filled with books with trinkets, frames, candles and a few small plants.

One shelf has a picture of Poppy with her girlfriends - he only knows Nia, but he recognises the photo as one she’s had a while - another has a picture of Poppy with her family. There’s a photo of the family dogs, Springer Spaniels Mabel and Gus, who Nico had become infatuated with when Poppy had looked after them for a week while her parents were on vacation. 

On the shelf closest to his eye level, Nico spots a photo of him and Poppy taken on Halloween a few years back. Nico dressed as a prisoner, Poppy dressed as Mia from Pulp Fiction, he remembers someone had made a comment how even in polar opposite costumes, they had still turned up colour co-ordinated, and the picture does that justice - giant, smiles, and flushed cheeks coming out bright against their black and white outfits.

Poppy returns with a small box and a card, and a smile just as big as the one in the picture.

Nico takes the box, instinctively rattling it. “Doesn’t sound like the Hogwarts Express model train I wanted,” he speculates, lips pouting into a mocking frown. 

“Don’t get me started on that train,” she swats Nico with the card, “That Rangers loving asshole said it was against house code to reserve an auction item for me.”

“I told you he was bad vibes,” he postulates, heart warming at the thought of her trying to get him such a sentimental gift.

“That thing ended up going for over $6000!”

“Jesus,”

“I love you, but if I’m spending $6000 on anything, it isn’t a dorky Harry Potter train.”

I love you. 

Nico doesn’t even register the rest of her sentence.

He tears carefully into the Devils branded wrapping paper until a plain black box is revealed, and when he lifts the lid, the gold chain inside immediately reflects the soft light coming from the corner of the room. 

“It’s so we can match,” Poppy says, shaking the wrist that adorns the welded chain bracelet - the bracelet that she wears as a symbol of an unbreakable bond with the people she loves the most in this world. “I know you already have a chain, so you don’t have to wear it all the time, I couldn’t really think of anything else so last minute.”

She sounds unsure - insecure, almost, which is abnormal for her.

“Put it on for me?” He asks, holding the box out for her to take the chain out. 

She handles it with care, and when it’s in her hands, he can see that it is the perfect match to the chain on her wrist. Oh, he will be wearing it. All the time.

She unclasps the necklace, and he cranes his head lower so she can bring it around his neck, closing it together at the front and manoeuvring it until the clasp is at the back.

When he lifts his gaze, his eyes catch hers, admiring the glint of gold against his skin until she looks up at him with a soft smile.

It’s that same smile she seems to reserve just for him - where her eyes sparkle like a something out of a cartoon and swirl with so much warmth he feels it spread throughout his body.

He feels so much in the moment, a million words flooding through his brain at the rate of a thousand miles a minute. He has so much he wants to say to her - so much they need to talk about - but as he stands in an apartment only he is allowed to spend time in, with scatterings of his pictures throughout every room he’s been in so far, the link between his brain and his mouth becomes severed.

Fuck talking.

Nico moves quicker than he can comprehend, his brain not processing the actions of dropping the box his chain had been held in, placing his hands on either sides of her face and pulling her in until his lips collide with hers, and she doesn’t pull away. He can barely make out the sound of his birthday card falling from her grasp and sliding across the floor until all sound that isn’t coming from Poppy drowns out.

Her mouth moves with an equal bruising pressure to his, fingers raising to clutch at the shirt stretched across his torso, and he can barely feel the scratch of her nails through the fabric. He uses his grip on her face to angle it until their noses slot beside each other like pieces of a puzzle, and he doesn’t feel the ache in the bridge of his own as it is squished against hers.

After a few measured seconds, he tries his luck with the quick swipe of his tongue against the slight parting of her lips, and she lets him in, sending vibrations through the muscle as her lips close around it and she hums against his mouth. 

Nico can’t think of a time he’s ever kissed someone like this before - with all-consuming passion. 

He’s had half-hearted, means-to-an-end make-out sessions, quick, loveless pecks, sloppy, drunken kisses with fumbling hands and heavy petting.

But this is other-worldly. It’s mind-boggling, soul shattering, earth-moving.

Even when they part, noses smushed together, panting breaths tumbling heavily out into each other’s parted, swollen lips, he feels like his whole body is continuously thrumming. 

He gives into the slight push of her hands against his chest, only when he feels her eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, wanting to see what revelations lay within her eyes.

She blinks slowly, as if in a daze, and a self-satisfied smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Clarity washes over him almost immediately.

He hasn’t been off this week.

Hasn’t been grumpy, mopey, moody, pouty.

Luke was right, earlier.

Nico has been jealous.

He wants to spend all his time with her, wants to tag along to whatever boring work task she has when he’s free, wants to tell any other guy interested that she’s off limits, wants to fill his apartment with pictures of the two of them and wants her to fill her office with the same.

Nico Hischier likes Poppy Jensen.

And, if that kiss and her reaction to it is anything to go off, Poppy likes him back.

The thought fills him with conviction, makes his chest puff out and his back straighten in unabashed confidence, and gives him the courage to make a request that the Nico of barely a day ago wouldn’t have dreamed of asking.

Something else he wants.

“Don’t go on that date, Mohn."

> Next Chapter

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

[purghhappenings]

It isn't a bother, could you give headcanons on the theory of sir crocodile being Luffy's mom?

It is never a bother and I’m going to do my best, mainly because I’ve thought of trans crocodile all of 3 times, and this is new idea but I’m gonna roll with this because I really like the idea!!!!! 

So as a little info for people who didn’t see the post and for you my HC is that before Crocodile met Ivan he identified as a she as what he was born as, and through Ivan realized he wanted to be a man and felt more masculine than feminine but Ivan is a tiny shit and Croco was like “it’s gotta be a secret” and Ivan said “ok but you owe me for keeping it a secret because its okay to feel this way” and Crocodile said “no fuck you parent” So I’m going to be using the pronouns Crocodile uses now just so it doesn’t confuse anyoneAlso btw I’m just gonna say Ivan didn’t fully change him, just increased his testosterone and took away his estrogen and he wrapped for a few years and that’s why(plus he worked his fucking body to the max to get it to look more masculine like this boy wanted to put in the work)(Also btw btw if this in at all way seems to come off as transphobic or anything of the sort tell me immediately because I only have half an idea of what I’m doing and this is not in anyway suppose to be offensive)

(Thanks spoon anon!!!!)

Dragon and Croco met at a shady business meeting and Croco was interested cause nobody ever caught his eye like that and who gave him the right to be so mysterious

So Crocodile being the blunt man that he is, tried to size him up and fucking lost which lead to one of the best one night stands of his life and when he woke up that morning, he expected to deal with the “Why do you look and sound like a man” gig, which fuck those people alright he was a man and is a man

but Dragon hadn’t mentioned any of that just “can you do me a favor and act like you never saw me?”

And he was so thrown because ???? everyone fucking mentioned it “aren’t you gonna say some shit?”

“About?”“me not being a man” it left a bitter taste on his mouth

“You did say your name was Sir Crocodile, I assumed you were a man, are you not?” If Crocodile at the time was capable of anything but anger, he’d have fallen in love

“I’m not gonna say I ever saw you if I can get your name.”

“Monkey D. Dragon.” A mother fucking-No, the mother fucker in charge of the revolutionary army. Compared to Crocodile who was doing well in his pirate career, this was a god

“Nope, not gonna say a word”

Well, he lied because nine months later, Dragon hears word that a baby was delivered and at first Dragon thought he was going to have to fight with Crocodile because no neither of us can keep him, we’re both too big of prominent figures and he’ll die 

But the fight never comes because Crocodile says it before him, it’s weird for him to as well because he silently swore to never care for the infant and only delivered because Shit for Brains dragon didn’t answer his letter in time and it was too late to get an abortion(he was a monster but he was as prolife as the next homicidal maniac)((plus insuring the wrath of  a basic god wasn’t on his todo list yet))

So they both agree “it goes to grandpa” and at first Crocodile doesn’t even know his name, just knows that he birthed a boy. He told Dragon to name him and then to forget his name.

And could you imagine the shock one faces when their son waltz into his casino and starts screeching about being the pirate king and kicking his ass? Weird pride is there but, loss?

The kid doesn’t recognize him, and he shouldn’t he has no idea Crocodile is his birth parent, per Crocodiles request but it knocks the wind out of him because he’s so strong and he’s got Dragon’s fierce eyes, and he’s got Crocodiles nose and he’s built like how Crocodile was before his transition no hips at all.

Its enough to make him tear up but… This kid keeps going on and on and Crocodile almost remembers why they’re here. He can’t tell him. How could he?

After Luffy kicks his ass(he went all out don’t get him wrong, he never loved luffy like a parent usually would by his own choice) he gets one phone call and calls dragon 

“he’s a lot like you.. and me.”

“Isn’t he?”

“i stabbed him in the chest and he somehow got back up, hell I even poisoned him.”

“YOU DID WHAT TO OUR SON?!” and Crocodile just hangs up because where he’s going, there’s no possible way the Revolutionary Army will ever get to him.

Impel down is where heinous criminals go.

I’d like to think Dragon was the only one who knew luffy’s mom, and Dragon has never told a soul and I don’t think he’ll ever tell luffy

But yeah, this is kinda my take on if Crocodile was luffy’s mom and I really hope you like it because I enjoyed writing it!!!!!!

Keep the asks coming!!!! I really really love talking to yall!!! 

[indouloureux]

omg ok, could you please write about how the reader is dating joesph and they know how to cook well and always feeds him, so he puts on a little weight then receives hate comments. so he gets insecure then the reader reassures him. 💕💕💕

thank you for requesting! ❤️

warnings: body image issues, bullying (mentioned but not specifically written)

"hey, what's wrong?"

he stares at the plate in front of him, fork poking and prodding at his food but never really putting it in his mouth. whereas for you, you're halfway done. joseph looks at you, the pout on his lips disappearing as he sucks on his teeth, shaking his head. "nothing."

but the depressed lilt in his voice is not nothing, not when you hear the hesitance and dread in them. you gently drop your fork, placing your hand on top of his to stop him from scraping the plate. "i know it's not nothing, jo. tell me what's wrong."

not a question but more of a demand, because he's been like this for four days — getting excited over your cooking, and then the excitement disappears as if he's suddenly remembering something, so the food ends with it barely eaten and given to the stray cats outside.

he tugs on the collar of his shirt, two fingers circling the fabric before he lets it fall back. "i'm alright, (y/n)."

it's not alright when he says your name.

not because you don't like it, but because he only says it when he's upset. joseph's hand almost falls limp in your grasp, his eyes on the food just to avoid yours.

"hey," you tug on his finger. he finally looks at you, and you can see the gloss breaking the ring on the corner of his pupils, split into lines like how a sun would look setting into a sea. "please don't lie. tell me?"

he makes a noise beneath his breath, fingers tapping on the wooden table. "am i...gaining weight?"

your eyebrows join in confusion, because nothing has changed. for you, anyway, he still looks like joseph — the same man you fell for years ago. "sorry?"

"like, am i getting...big?" he rephrases it, though in the same context. "i- i know i don't hold my own social media but sometimes i can't help but be curious and, well all i see is these people talking about my-my weight..."

you close your eyes, tightly, and take a deep breath before your hand tightens around his. "hey. you know those idiots? they have nothing better to do in their lives, baby," you tell him. "they don't have enough attention in their lives so they seek for others. what they're saying are total bullshit. they're insecure. and they take that anger out on someone else. so you shouldn't believe all the bullshit they say, okay?"

his silence means he's unconvinced. you kiss the back of his hand, keeping it against your chin. "you're still the same to me. and if they say you're gaining weight, who cares if you do? you're still handsome. you still belong. you don't need their acceptance because fuck them, okay? don't give them the attention and satisfaction. i love you."

his lips disappear when he tries to hold the tears back, eyebrows relaxing when he sniffles and squeezes your hand. "thank you. i-i love you."

"great," you smile. "now you know who needs attention? your food. do you want me to do the airplanes or the train?"

his laugh renders his worries useless.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

[umbralundertaker]

ONE character analysis via classpecting: part two. This time with feedback from the first post ❤️

I love these takes on Liam! Liam definitely seems like a Knight of Void to me. Knights tend to have a vibe of being against change and upholding the status quo so to speak, until they realize the status quo is not good and they seek to change it.

I really really enjoy Bryce as a Doom player, he was probably the first one I thought of an aspect for. I don't really know about him being a Rouge though? I get what you're saying, but I feel like his character does not lean enough into the 'taking Doom from others' part enough.

He could be a Rouge or, get this, also a Knight! He and Liam are definitely the most integral characters, so them having that similarity would be very cool, it'd be a point of contention and a point that brings them together. Otherwise, a Sylph or a Seer/Mage could maybe fit him?? but I don't have proof for that so.

That last screenshot is not from my first classpecting post, it's from a different post (that I actually linked in the first post lol) also about Amelia's tendency to be treated like she doesn't matter.

I think Amelia being a Page is a good idea, though to fully lean into her Jadecoding she could also be a Witch. The activeness of her class and the passiveness of her aspect really match with her wanting to assert herself and to matter, while the narrative looks her in the eye and says no. I think I've decided on Page but I believe that her as a Witch deserves a fair chance.

Hrmm but Time is such a swag aspect!! The vibes yknow!!!

Though, Airy being so ineffectual matches with Breath players' unflappability... how the plot just kinda pushes him around to wherever and is met with little to no resistance... the fact that even the small things he does have large consequences... but Time is just as good!

But a Thief... Thieves being a middlingly active class but still very stubborn... the utter completeness in which he steals these peoples freedom to the point where even if they leave the plane they never feel truly free... god okay you've sold me. Again though I feel like Bard deserves an honorable mention.

I certainly understand what the first screenshot is saying... but I feel like Muse still fits Stone better. My friend also made a good post about master classes here if you wanted to check it out.

The second screenshot has it down pat. The master classes are intertwined with the plot, they are the flesh and blood of the narrative, the scaffolding of the show. Taking from Caliborn and Calliope, master classes are more narrative devices than people. That fits Stone to a T. (The cherubs also have very strong personalities as just characters divorced from the plot, but thats a post for another time)

Life Charlotte is good, but Heart Charlotte is better! What the first screenshot said about the Life aspect also applies to Heart, so I like it. Also, Heart players are notably related to relationships and connections between people, and that is definitely a big part of Charlotte's character.

Seer is the perfect aspect fer her, from her thinking she knows best to also learning from her mistakes... I couldn't think of a better classpect for her.

No comment, other than this is a great reading of the Rage aspect. I really agree, Stella is a Sylph of Rage.

I am rethinking Breathbound Owen a bit. It's hard to get a grasp on him since he appeared like twice. Maybe Hope or Life would fit him as well?

Sounds good.

As for Julien... you understand my vision... Mind is the opposite of Heart, the aspect of relationships, so Mind could also feasibly be defined as an aspect of loneliness. As for his class erm um what about him as an Heir? I like him as an Heir. Its ironic cause he inherited loneliness and got to be in a situation where all he had was himself (his mind).

That's all on this episode of ONE Theory. I'd love to hear yalls opinions on these classpects and ones of other characters I haven't mentioned.

[dollwritesarchive]

Hey! How are you doing?

I had a bad interaction with one of my brothers when I made my coming out as enby and wondered if you'd be ok to write about Wallace West (Kid Flash) and his non-binary!sibling when they finally make their coming out?

He's a very comforting character. But it's ok if you don't want to! Take care and thank you for your writing, I really appreciate it ♡

hey lovely! i’m so sorry to hear that you had a bad experience, that’s always tough :( i sincerely hope your brother comes around soon. it’s incredibly brave of you to come out, congratulations! i will be honest, i’m not the most educated when it comes to this topic so i’m not super confident writing a full fic, but i would love love love to give you some headcanons! ❤️

Wᴀʟʟʏ Wᴇsᴛ & Hɪs ENBY!Sɪʙʟɪɴɢ

fandom dc / masterlist / @dollsdc-library

featuring wally west & enby!twin sibling!reader

rating this is a sfw piece, but my blog is not minor friendly.

content warning no warnings

word count n.a / headcanons & concepts

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.

Wally was the first person you came out to.

it only made sense with the two of you being practically inseparable since, well, birth. he was not only your brother, but your very best friend, and if there was one person in the universe that you knew would support you, you knew it was him.

he was over the moon, even if he admittedly was a little confused at first.

“I can explain it to you?” you offered, but Wally could see your hands shaking. you were still riding an anxiety rush from finally saying it out loud, and he didn’t want to push you.

“Only if you want to,” he replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “your identity doesn’t have to ‘make sense’ to me or anyone else, you know that, right?” with a soft smile that you mirror almost perfectly, he nudges into you. “It’s who you are.”

“Thanks, Wally.” you exhaled, maybe for the first time since the conversation started. and it felt good. great. freeing, even, to know that Wally had your back. “Can we… keep this to ourselves, though? I don’t think I’m really ready to tell mom and dad, or the team. Not yet, anyways.”

Wally didn’t hesitate, he didn’t even have to think twice about the request. “I won’t say a word,” hooking his pinky finger around yours, he playfully jiggles your hand until you break out in a soft laugh, “but when you’re ready, you know I’ll be here for you.”

and he was.

Wally asked a lot of questions once he was certain you were comfortable answering them, everything he could think of that might help him be the best support system he could. and you could tell that he was genuinely absorbing your answers, taking them in, tucking this information in his mind so it was easily accessible.

when you were finally ready to tell the team, you had your twin right beside you, his hand available to grasp on to if yours was to start shaking. “‘S okay,” he whispered, encouraging, “you’re safe. I’m here, and so are our friends. And they’re ready to meet you. The real you.”

he was right; the team was incredibly supportive.

it was so much easier telling them now that you had Wally there to keep you steady.

[sunkaashi]

— OVERTIME

↬ Pairing. College!Atsumu x Manager!Reader

↬ Genre. Fluff. A hint of enemies to lovers if you look really closely.

↬ Warnings. Mentions of alcohol. I guess nothing else? Let me know if you think I'm wrong!

↬ Summary.  Atsumu Miya is hopelessly in love with you, but how could he ever catch your attention if all you do is ignore him? Well, maybe his plan starts to work out when he finds out that whenever he stays longer for practice, you have to stay too.

↬ Word count. 1.7k

↬ tris' note: I wrote this in the spur of the moment, but I had so much fun! feedbacks are extremely appreciated! if you wanna be added to my general taglist, fill out this form.

anyways, did you know that only hot people reblog the works they like? NO? well, now you do ;) jk, but reblogs help me tons and I'm very grateful for them <3

Sweat dripped down the back of ATSUMU's neck as he jogged around the college tracks for the nth time that afternoon.

"Just one more lap." He kept telling himself over and over again as if repeating it would make it any less of a lie.

But who could blame him when this was the only moment of the day that he could spend with you? When he just knew that, by the end of that turn, you'd be there to receive him, water bottle and towel in hand? If anything, that just drove him more and more motivated to get to the finish line.

Those seconds in which your hands slightly brushed off against each other's; the way you laughed whenever he tripped over himself, too tired to carry on; the sarcastic sneer on your face every time you scolded him for wasting your time, but still wouldn't leave. To Atsumu, that was his reward, better than any shining trophy.

"Oi! Miya!" Your voice woke him up from his trance as the blonde boy finally shot up a glance at you. He rested with his hands on his knees, chest going up and down in strong and unsteady motions, legs still trembling a bit from the training. "We've been here for almost two hours! Everybody has left already, and I want to go home for God's sake!"

Atsumu snickered at the way your voice got higher with each word, deflecting from his gaze while you said you wanted to leave. He also didn't miss how you knitted your eyebrows together just before going off at him, carefully scanning his shaky body.

"Ya could've left, ya know? I never asked ya to stay!" He replied, smirking a little while making sure to stare right into your pupils.

If eyes are the windows to the soul, that must be the reason yours were so beautiful to him. As he tried to get an answer through them, he also delighted himself in such a vision. That's why he was quick to notice their slight tremble at his remark.

"And leave you to die?!" Your voice, once again, cut him off of his daydreams. "You've been running for more than an hour after a pretty rough practice, if you go into cardiac arrest who's gonna call an ambulance?! I'm the team manager, I don't want any deaths on my back!"

In his defense, he was only there because of you, but — obviously — he wouldn't tell you that. He decided to just laugh it off.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day!" He teased.

"What?!"

"Yer’ worried ‘bout me!" Atsumu said, trying to suppress the smile forming in the corner of his mouth.

Even though his tone was playful, he knew something was off when his words were left hanging in the air, no snarky comments added to the back-and-forth banter you were both so used to.

Seeing your widened eyes, he started to question if he was right or, worse, if he had crossed a line.

You gulped down as if this would prevent you from spilling something you shouldn't say. Atsumu was dying to know what it was.

This had become a little routine of yours. Staying for a couple more hours after practice as you helped him out for a while. At first, he knew you're just doing your job, after all, you were there to assist the boys, it didn't matter who they were. Still, he couldn't shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, something had changed as the months went by.

He remembered it perfectly. It wasn't that long before that you used to curse him for making you lose such precious time of your day. He knew you had your reasons! Staying overtime underneath the unforgiving sun, having to catch up on your studies while sitting beside the filthy running tracks, surrounded by sweaty and dirty athletes.

Even so, it wasn't pleasant for him either. Jogging for endless hours, the summer heat consuming him as if hell were just around the corner.

Usually, he would run only half of those miles. But how could he stop? How could he stop knowing that the minute he did, you'd have to go home, and he would only see you the next day? No, he needed more time to win you over. He needed those small talks in between his breaks. He needed every single one of the few glances you exchanged every time he ran past you. He needed to hear you giggling at his jokes at least once more.

What once felt like dragging insufferable after hours, began to seem like less and less time over the weeks. Those little details were what made it all worth it. They were his private entrance to heaven.

And he believed that you might've been starting to feel the same way too.

He'd caught the way your lips curled up into a shy smile the last time he'd offered to walk you home. He also had noticed how your irises shined a bit brighter whenever he bought you food, worried because he knew you'd be there with him for those extra periods. He'd seen the way you laughed at his childhood stories just a tad too hard, always asking for another one.

Atsumu had always been aware of how he comes off to people: the arrogant self-centered jock. He never really cared about any of those things, but he did care about how you perceived him. The man just hoped that soon enough, you'd learn he was more than what others wanted him to be. Not a pretentious athlete, albeit a normal guy as any other, just with an ambitious goal set to his mind. And whenever you shared one of those intimate moments, he thought that, perhaps, you were one of the few people that actually saw him for who he was.

Still, that didn't make it any easier to admit the feelings he'd developed for you.

"Oi! Are ya alright?" Atsumu said, trying to catch your attention, a delicate expression laying on his countenance. "I'm sorry if I overstepped in any way, ‘kay? It was a joke, I promise." You didn't answer him just yet.

"Hey!" He proceeded, lifting your chin up so you'd look at him. "Now I'm the one getting worried 'bout ya! Snap out of it and get back to hating on me before ya realize I might have a heart!" Atsumu mocked himself, but shied away from your glare while doing so.

At least he'd made you chuckle.

“I always knew you had one, Miya." You said, rolling your eyes at the man. “I just didn’t know it worked!”

“Oya! That was mean!”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” You asked, arching your brows.

“Well, maybe, but it wouldn’t hurt if ya were a little nicer to me once in a while!”

“Yeah? How so?” The words slipped past your lips without missing a beat, and Atsumu couldn’t help but wonder if the flirtatious undertone was something he had only imagined. He decided to take the bait.

“For starters...” Atsumu began, slowly making his way closer to where you were standing. “Ya could buy me a beer after we’re done here.” Was he crazy or did he really see your shoulders relaxing at his words?

“Oh, is that easy?” You responded in the same toying manner.

“Hold up!” He said, raising his hands to the air. “That’s just the first step!”

“And then what?”

“And then…” Atsumu continued, moving further towards your figure. “Then ya could let me hear that beautiful laugh of yers a few more times.” He completed, stealing a giggle out of you. “Just like that.”

“Great, so I’m halfway through it.” Your tone may have been monotonous, but your eyes told him otherwise. “Anything else or can we get this over with?”

“Maybe, while yer’ laughing, ya could finally realize that I’m not as bad as ya think I am.” He pondered, moving a loose strand of hair out of your features, clearing the view to your gaze.

“Now you wanna tell me what to think?” You scoffed, crossing your arms.

“Is just a suggestion! Take it as ya wish!” He winked at you.

“And what if I told you that I already did?”

“Ya did?” This time, he sounded soft, breaking out of the teasy character for a second.

“You’re not bad, Miya... Far from that.” 

“Well, that’s a shock.”

“You don’t look surprised.” You stated, pointing out the crescent grin on his face.

“Too much wishful thinking made me ready for this moment.”

“And what exactly is this moment… Atsumu?” The way you said his name, in a hushed voice, almost like a secret meant to be shared by only the both of you, gave him the green light he needed to go on.

“It’s when I finally kiss ya.” 

Atsumu was quick to grab your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, and finally closing the gap between you two. His gawk rapidly traveled from your mouth to your eyes, longing for a confirmation. It didn’t take a second after your subtle nod for him to merge your lips together, your body melting at his touch. His grasp was gentle, but firm, like you were something he treasured, something that he never wanted to let go of. And by the way you gripped onto his neck, the boy could tell he wasn’t alone in this.

Atsumu moved his palms all the way up your back, briefly running his fingers through your hair, but resting them upon finding your face. His tender touch cupped your cheeks in between his hands, pushing away just when he inevitably ran out of breath. 

"Do I still have to buy you that beer or is this nice enough for you?" You said, unable to repress a smile.

“Hm, I’m not sure… Why don’t you kiss me again and we'll see?"

© sunkaashi — 2021.  all rights reserved. do not repost, plagiarise it, translate it nor reproduce this post as your own.

[tulipwritings]

Let you see the heart that's inside ✧ I

Pairing: The Darkling / Aleksander Morozova x Reader (Sun Summoner)

Trope: Enemies to lovers.

Warnings: Mention of sexual assault.

(Gif's not mine)

You wrapped your kefta closely around you as you stumbled through the hallway of the Little Palace. You felt like crying but the numbness of not fully grasping what just had happened stopped you from sobbing and screaming.

You had liked Pyotr. He was your closest and only friend ever since you arrived at the Little Palace after the Darkling found you — his Sun Summoner. Your stay turned out to be a tough time, barely finding friends since most of the other Grisha held grudges against you, envying the Sun Summoner who the Darkling was so keen on, even though behind the closed doors of the war room, the both of you kept fighting, divided by disagreement on how to act regarding the Shadow Fold. He wanted to use it as a weapon which you highly disagreed with. Once the Darkling realized your stubborness and that he couldn’t simply wrap you around his finger, his behaviour changed towards you, being distant and not hiding the fact how annoyed he was in your presence. Probably the only reason for him to not simply get rid of you was that he needed a Sun Summoner and you were the only one around. Oh, how you'd love to make room for those other Grisha, there was nothing to envy about bearing the bad-tempered Darkling.

You've been on your own your whole life, the loneliness had been such a familiar feeling that it didn’t feel lonely anymore at some point. Until you met Pyotr and you got used to him being around. But now you felt sick to your stomach only thinking about him, his stupid face and red kefta. When you visited him in his room this evening so you could go to the great hall together where dinner is served, he grabbed you by your wrists, starting to kiss your neck and once you tried to push him away, he slowed down your heart rate, making you defenseless. Now, stepping through the hallway trying to get to your room as quick as possible, you could still feel his hands on your body and hear the echo of his words over and over again. "Come on, (Y/N). You've been so sweet and kind, you showed me that you want me for quite some time now..." His powers of a Heartrender stopped you from objecting, all you could do was watching him touch and kiss you.

"Dinner is that way" a cold and yet soft voice said. The Darkling seemed to have a good day, at least that's what the rare softness in his voice gave away.

"I'm not hungry, get out of my face" you spat, not looking at him as you tried to pass him, but his hand shot forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you backwards until his body blocked your way.

"I beg your pardon?" The softness in his voice was gone, there was a dangerous edge to it now. His touch made you panic and all of a sudden the numbness lost its fight against the tears, making you sob right in front of him, which made all of it even worse, since the least you wanted was showing weakness in front of the Darkling, who'd use it against you as soon as it was of use. "Let go of me! I'll never be kind again!", you shouted, knowing your words must sound ridiculous without any context, before your voice broke and your tears stopped you from saying anything else. The Darkling let go of you without even blinking. He was slightly startled, almost sorry once he noticed your shattered reaction.

"(Y/N)... wha- what happened?" he asked troubled, raising his hand for a second, wanting to touch your back to comfort you until he realized his touch had made you panic just seconds ago. He bowed forward, his face only inches apart from yours, as his raven eyes locked with yours. "Tell me."

He waited patiently until you gathered enough strength to gulp back your sobs, shakingly speaking up about what happened. Once he heard what Pyotr had done he stiffened, clenching his jaw and protectively looking up and down the hallway, checking if there was any sight of the Heartrender.

"Go to your room and take a bath.", he ordered, "I'll check in on you later."

✧・✧・✧・✧

You were sitting in your nightgown on your bed, your hair still damp as you heard a soft knock on your door.

"Come in..." Your voice was barely a hoarse. You had took a hot bath, eagerly soaping your body and hoping to wash off the feeling of Pyotr's hands on your skin. It's been hopeless — you felt used, dirty even. If you could, you'd shed your skin, leaving the unsolicited touch behind.

The Darkling stepped in, a tray in his hand that he placed in front of you. "I want you to eat something, (Y/N)."

You sighed, thinking about food made you feel like throwing up already.

"I'll leave the Little Palace tomorrow, I can't stand to see him again." And you couldn’t stand the thought of your only friend betraying you, the thought of fighting with the Darkling when there was no one around to rant about his self-centered, greedy behaviour, the thought of being among other Grisha and still being all alone. You had lost your only friend — if he had ever been a friend. You felt empty and lost. Unlovable, worthless. As if Pyotr had stolen your value.

"You won't leave the Little Palace..."

"So, I'm a captive now?" you snapped.

The Darkling took a deep breath. You could sense that he was annoyed with you interrupting him, but for once he was patient and remained soft instead of threatening you as he did the countless times you were arguing in the war room.

"You’re not held captive, Pyotr is." he stated, now sitting down on the edge of your bed, still giving you space and respecting your boundaries.

Your eyes went wide. "You... you believe me?"

"Are you fucking with me?!" There he was — the annoyed Darkling, angry with something you said. This time you couldn’t be mad at him, his reaction felt nearly soothing.

"I want Grisha to be safe." he went on. "The Little Palace is supposed to be a safe place for Grisha, I won't tolerate any kind of violence that isn't at my command. Speaking of...", he frowned, "I don't want you to have breakfast with the others tomorrow. You'll eat in your room, I'll have servants take care of it." He got up from your mattress, but stopped as soon as he reached your door. "And (Y/N)... don’t let the cruelty of others take away your kindness. It can be strength too." He left before you had a chance to ask any further questions.

Once he had closed the door, he left you behind with the unknown feeling of wanting him to come back. You hated how commanding he was. Yet, it was the first time you wondered who he was besides the leader of the Second Army that you couldn’t stand. You wondered if there was a side of him you might actually like.

Once he had closed the door leaving you behind, a pool of shadows surrounded him. Now that he was on his own again he stopped suppressing his rage about somebody touching you and the waves of darkness were its outcome. Nobody would harm you ever again.

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This is my first attempt of publishing my stories, I hope you like it. I'd be really happy about some feedback. ♡

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