#idek i need the full chapter

[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)

[xanwyn]

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles. 

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

[owlwinter8]

Anastasis Typeset

With @chthonion 's permission, I have posted my typeset for Anastasis to this Google Drive! You can print the PDF with regular 8.5x11 paper. More images of the full bind here.

Some notes:

I ask that you do not repost these files anywhere, and don’t even think about using them to bind a fan work for profit!! This typeset is being shared with author permission, but they may revoke that permission at any time and for any reason.

The PDF version is ready to be printed as-is, and can be printed with regular 8.5x11 printer paper. The signature size is set to be 6 physical sheets (so you’ll be folding in half every group of 6 printed pages – check the page #s line up)

The MS Word version is for if you want to adjust the typeset before printing. (This is set up as a Microsoft Word file. Idek what would happen if you tried opening it in Google Docs.) You’ll need to download the Bible Script LET font for things like the title page & chapter headers; and download the EB Garamond font for the main text. Note that the vertical chapter header images are part of the page header, so click up there to move or change them (This is so you can change all of the chapter headers at once). Note that the images look lighter than they really are until you click into the page header. Once done editing the doc, print it as PDF to get everything collated in a printable form (then print from that PDF).

Cover/spine/back art is also shared in the Google Drive

Endpapers I used was the back of this patterned paper.

Foil effects were done with a technique called toner foiling. You’ll need a laser printer (vs an ink printer), toner reactive foil, and a laminator. The rainbow foil I used for the cover/back is this laser golden foil. The gold foil I used for the chapter headers is this minc-brand gold foil.

Questions? If you have general questions about bookbinding, I’ll refer you to the Renegade Bookbinding Discord server. If you have more specific questions about this particular bookbind, you are welcome to reach out directly to me, @owlwinter8 on tumblr😊

I’d love to get tagged or DM’d photos if you do bind with this typeset! Happy binding!! <3

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

connected ch 6

genre: idek.

synopsis: after meeting chan at the cafe, you have a scary experience and need a little saving (it would never happen this way irl but it makes for a good chapter!)

word count: ~1.5k

warnings: fear, blood, attempted knife attack

an: oooooh the connected series is back~~ tbh i forgot about this series. i lost inspiration for it and then forgot it existed. but its recently gotten some attention and a couple people asked for the next part so i picked it up again. i guess we will see what happens with it.

masterlist • pervious chapter • next chapter

despite the short meeting, your heart felt full. it felt warm. it felt.. happy. you sat alone at your table for a little while, finishing your drink, replaying the encounter in your head, not looking forward to another two hour drive home. but you felt the trip was totally worth it. ten minutes with chan was worth ten hours of driving. but eventually, you needed to head home. it was starting to fall dark and you wanted to be in your car and on the road by then.

standing, you tossed your empty cup into a nearby trash can before exiting the store. your feet pitter pattered against the sidewalk as you pulled at a loose string on your sweater, daydreaming about him. remembering what his dimples looked like in real life, the little squeak in his laugh, the literal electric shock between your hands and his. this was your yn moment. and you had no one to share it with. but that’s okay.

your phone buzzed in your pocket.

i’m really sorry i had to leave so quickly. one of the guys needed me. please be safe going home. lmk when you get there.

you smiled, holding the phone close to your chest. you began to type out a response when you heard something to your left.

you were suddenly aware of the presence of another person. you didn’t want to turn and look directly, so you tried to see as much as you could in your peripheral. it was too dark to make out much. you definitely thought it was a man and he was wearing dark clothing. your good mood had now been replaced by fear. how far were you from your car? not far, but your car is in a multi level parking garage. did you really want to walk into an enclosed space, just for this person to follow you in? you wracked your brain with what to do.

your phone buzzed again.

are you already driving? i don’t mean to distract you. i just hope your not upset with me.

chan.

you clicked on his contact and pressed call. you slowly brought the phone to your ear, trying to remain calm and pretend the man wasn’t scaring you.

“hello?” he picked up on the first ring.

“chan?” you shakily said into the phone.

“yeah its me. are you okay? what’s wrong?” he asked. he could hear the shaking in your voice. his worry starting to rise.

“i’m walking back to my car from the coffee shop and i think im being followed.” you whispered into the phone.

“you what? followed? why do you think that? what’s happening?” he rapid fired his panic questions at you.

“i— im walking on the sidewalk and there’s a man in dark clothing walking behind me to my left. i think he’s been with me for a while. we’re the only ones on the street and it’s getting dark. and my car is in a garage but i’m scared he’s going to follow me in there and i don’t know what to do.” you were rambling, your breaths ragged now, coming out in pants. tears were pricking the corners of your eyes.

you were quickly approaching the garage and had to make a plan, quick. you could hear chan say something in korean to someone in the background. he sounded firm, authoritative.

“okay. baby listen to me.” he said, his voice now calm and soothing. “i’m close to the coffee shop. i’m walking in your direction. just stay calm okay?”

you nodded but then mumbled an mmhmm when you realized he couldn’t see you. you checked out of the corner of your eye and the man was still there. he was a little farther back, but still there. he wasn’t on his phone or anything, he had his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. you made it to the parking garage but you kept walking, deciding it wasn’t a good idea to go in.

“i had minho call the police and they’re on their way but they said it’s going to be a minute. im going to make it to you first. okay?.”

“okay..” you shakily breathed into the phone.

“you’re doing so good, sweetheart. just breathe.” he said.

you took a deep breath. and that’s when you felt something sharp poke into your back. you froze.

“you all alone out here, darlin?” the man asked from behind you, his free hand brushing the hair from your neck. you shivered.

you heard chan curse into the phone before you could hear his shoes, and maybe another pair, pounding into the pavement. coming at you in a full sprint.

“why don’t you hang up the phone and we won’t have any trouble.” the man said, punctuating his statement by applying more pressure to the knife he had to your lower back.

you did as he said, slowly lowering the phone from your ear and pressing the end button. your other hand was very slowly and carefully moving to your pocket for your pepper spray.

but before you could make a move, the pounding footsteps got louder and louder. the man looked over his shoulder to see two men running at him at full speed. he dropped the knife and pushed you to the ground before he took off down the sidewalk.

“ouch..” you whimpered, examining your scraped and bloody palms. one person kept running past, chasing the man. and then the other was in front of you. chan. he cradled your tear stained face in his hands, searching for any injuries.

“are you okay?” he asked, moving his examination down your body before seeing your palms. he pulled your hands into his lap. his head snapped up then, in the direction of the assailant and the man chasing him. is that…?

“changbin! let him go! it’s too dangerous!” chan called after them.

but changbin didn’t listen. he lunged and tackled the man to the ground.

“damn it, changbin.” chan muttered, before turning his attention back to you. “stay here, okay? i have to go help changbin.”

“no!” you clung onto his arm, panicked to be alone in the dark again. “please don’t leave me.”

his face softened. “okay, honey. okay. but i have to help him. come with me?” he stood and offered you his hand. you sniffled and stood also, placing your damaged hand in his before you both took off jogging down the sidewalk.

there was a small scuffle before changbin was sitting on top of the other man, using his legs to pin the man’s arms to his sides. changbin pulled his fist back, about to strike the man in the face.

“changbin! no.” chan said. it was more of an order than it was a statement. changbin turned to face you and chan, his fist still raised.

“hi! you must be yn.” changbin said, smiling, like he didn’t have your attacker pinned underneath him. “i’m changbin.” he introduced himself.

chan rolled his eyes and you chuckled a little. the attacker thrashed under changbin trying to free himself. changbin turned his attention back to the attacker who then started cowering, afraid of being punched.

you reached into your pocket and pulled out your pepper spray. you handed it to changbin. “here. use this.” you said.

changbin took the small can from you and examined it. he aimed the nozzle at the man before instructing you and chan to take a step back and cover your mouth and nose with your shirts. you did as he said and he also covered his own mouth and nose before spraying the man directly in the face. the man screamed and flopped around on the concrete. changbin hopped off of him and stood by your side as you watched the man cry on the ground. you could hear police sirens in the distance.

“thanks for saving me.” you sniffled, looking between your two heroes.

——

you had to file a police report and explain what happened in detail. chan stayed with you the whole time, holding your bandaged hands and stroking soft soothing circles into your skin. when it was all said and done, you had been at the police station for about an hour.

walking out the front door, there was a black suv with tinted windows waiting.

“i thought you might want to stay with me. i don’t really think you’re in the right state of mind to drive two hours home.” chan said, opening the car door for you. you slid into the back seat and he slid in next to you. the car took off.

“stay with you?” you whispered, so the driver wouldn’t hear.

“why are you whispering?” chan whispered back. he laughed and said at his normal volume: “the driver can’t hear us.”

“oh.” you were embarrassed.

“you can have my hotel room for the night and i’ll sleep in felix’s room. no big deal.” he smiled at you.

“okay..” you said, giving him a weak, tired smile back and looking out the window at the passing buildings, you wondered what in the world happened to your life?

taglist: to be added or removed, just lmk @thinkingaboutlana @tamlinsfiddle @everythingboutkpop

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[joelscruff]

i didn't realize how much being back at university would affect my writing process and motivation and it SUCKS. almost any time i go to write i just end up guilting myself out of it because i have assignments due or a paper to write etc. writing is so different when you've got a 9-5 because your free time is entirely your own, whereas now my free time is just full of reminders that there's a million things i need to get done. it's just so disheartening because i want to get the next chapter of feelings on fire out but writing anything lately has just been almost impossible. idek how i managed to get that dark!joel oneshot out the other day (i suppose it helps that it was already half finished from when i started it a few months ago).

anyway writing is just a struggle right now and i'm so sorry for how long it's taking for me to get this fof chapter done. it's not even that long of a chapter, it's just them having fun at the hotel, and yet my brain cannot write it - or anything else - for the life of me. i promise i'm trying and it will eventually be posted but i just have no idea when. i'm really sorry guys. i get messages every day asking when the update is and i just can't answer them cause i have no idea :( i've been avoiding my ask box like the plague lately cause i end up feeling so guilty. rip.

ik you all tell me to take my time and that it doesn't matter and that rly does mean a lot to me, and i KNOW you're telling the truth, but if anything i'm just mad at myself. i'm frustrated and impatient with myself. UGH.

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 23

Joe Goldberg x female!reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you. Words: 867

Masterlist

We already see Joe killing Ron on the show. I figured I don't have to describe it again. Besides, things are getting interesting...

DISCLAIMER: the towns and situations described in this chapter are fictionalized. There is no Nehalenia College in Koewacht. IDEK what is in Koewacht. (Koe means cow, so maybe a lot of cows??)

I have been very busy these last three days, (Y/n).

Nobody will miss Ron, but I miss you and I have been neglecting you. I feel bad. We have only texted a few times, and you say you are busy and jetlagged. But I can tell you’re just giving me an excuse to be distant, because when I text you, you respond right away.

I have been a bad boyfriend, but I think if you knew why I was so busy these last few days, you’d forgive me. I hope you would, but I can’t exactly tell you, so instead I just lounge on your bed and I text you:

ME: Hey lovely.

YOU: hey!

ME: What are you up to?

YOU: well it’s 8 pm

YOU: so nm

YOU: watching this dutch talk show w my grandpa

YOU: hes annoyed im on my phone lol

ME: Go watch the show, (Y/n). I don’t want to piss off your grandfather before I even get there.

YOU: yessir! love u

ME: I love you, too.

I am so tired. I was hoping we could call for a little bit, but if you're at your grandparents’ house, I don't want to push it. Instead I take a shower in your bathroom and use your soap so I smell like you. Then, in my own, clean clothes which I keep at your place, I get on your bed and take out your laptop.

As always, your WhatsApp texts are open. I haven't checked them much since we got together - we are good together and I don't need to know everything you talk about with everyone - but there are new texts from a name I don't recognize.

And you are texting this person right now. I thought you couldn't be on your phone?

The texts are in Dutch, but they started about an hour ago and there aren't that many yet, so I take the time to translate them.

MITCH: hey hey! heard you're in NL? wanna get together?

YOU: sorry man, kinda busy

MITCH: ouch. did you just blow me off?

YOU: uhhhh kinda?

YOU: it's nothing personal

YOU: my boyfriend’s coming in 2 days

I smile.

MITCH: since when do you have a boyfriend lol

YOU: a few months now

MITCH: and i guess it’s serious?

YOU: pretty serious

MITCH: wtf

YOU: ?

MITCH: i kinda thought we had a thing, you know?

YOU: mitch…

YOU: you gotta get over this

MITCH: and what is it you think i have to ‘get over’?

YOU: you know what

That last message, you sent while I was reading the other ones, and I have to translate it separately. Apparently Mitch does know what, because he doesn’t respond anymore. But I don’t know what, and I really wish you would specify.

You send a message to Nadia:

YOU: guess who just texted me…

NADIA: Who?

YOU: mitch

NADIA: Ew. Block him.

Thank you, Nadia!

YOU: i can’t just block him 😭 you know what happens when i block him

NADIA: You want to stay at my place tonight?

YOU: could i? i don’t wanna tell my grandparents about this…

NADIA: Hey, at least Joe will be here soon! Then you won’t be all alone in your big scary AirBNB.

YOU: lol

YOU: i can’t wait tho

YOU: 😁😊

I frown. Normally I’d be happy that you can’t wait for me to get there, but right now I just want to know who this Mitch guy is.

He is not on your Twitter and he is not on Nadia’s Instagram. All I have are his texts to you and looking for his number on Google does absolutely nothing.

But when I look up your high school, along with Mitch’s name and yours, I finally find something interesting: two news articles with your names in them.

I Google your name again. There’s your high school picture. You went to Het Nehalennia College but when I try to translate the rest of the text again, I still can’t make sense of it - it must be full of spelling errors, because some words just will not make sense.

I try to look Mitch up, using all sorts of combinations. Your school and his name, his name and yours... Nothing.

From: Omroep Zeeland, June 21st, 2017

KOEWACHT - YESTERDAY AT 3:00 in the afternoon, high school student at Nehalennia College, Mitch Wegganger, was arrested on suspicion of stalking and attempted assault against his classmate, (Y/n) (Y/l/n). The stalking allegedly started after (Y/l/n) stood up for Wegganger against a classmate in March. (Y/l/n) did not return our requests for comment.

From: Omroep Zeeland, June 23rd, 2017

KOEWACHT - HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT Mitch Wegganger - who was arrested early this week on suspicion of stalking his classmate (Y/n) (Y/l/n) - was released this morning after (Y/l/n) withdrew her report. Wegganger: “This is all a huge misunderstanding. I didn't stand outside (Y/n)'s house and hurt her. I just wanted to talk to her.”

(Y/l/n) is still unavailable for comment.

I can’t believe this.

You, (Y/n), have a stalker.

And you didn’t tell me about him.

[almostfoxglove]

hey there you enchantress of words and feelings

i am writing to you from the depths of a sleepless night (and extremely tired day at work with absolutely no regrets AT ALL would do it again no questions) spent rereading all of i’ll carry you and finishing the last chapter at the early hours of dawn with no one but the stark light of my humidifier to witness the tears rolling down my cheeks.

idek where to start? this was already one of my absolute favorite javi stories but now i think it might have just beat that to become the eternal javi story etched into the grooves of my brain.

i cried for her and her shattered heart that only has the strength to put itself back together for him. i cried for her and her shattered heart each time it thought it was done breaking for him. i cried for her and her shattered heart when it was finally settling (only settling because it would never beat for anyone else but him) for another soul even tho it wasn’t made to fit with another. i cried for her and her shattered heart when it saw him again and realized he would continue to shatter her every day now that he’s tangible again.

and then i read his pov (that i had put aside until this final chapter was released) and cried all over again for him and his shrinking heart that only unfurled in her presence. i cried for every time he came close to presenting his gentle heart at the pedestal of her but never actually did. i cried for all the years, days, and minutes that they were so close yet so far and not even the strongest forces could either bring them together or pull them away from the gravity of each other.

i cried because, i consider myself somewhat of a “late bloomer” - in my early twenties without much to show for romantic entanglements. not to say i haven’t loved because i have but never in a soul-shattering way. and i have cried many times for all that time that seems to have passed without my heart knowing where to put all that love it carries so easily. so reading about these two and how they find each other even after everything that has passed was almost like that weighted blanket that pulls javi under the depths of sleep. this story was that weighted blanket that gently enveloped my weary heart and slowly lulled it to sleep.

ANYWAY (jesus get a grip woman) i apologize for all this rambling. i just didn’t know where to put all these feelings that have been swimming through me all day, at work, hours after i read the last line. this story has taken up a special place in my heart and i will be revisiting as many times as i need to be enveloped by the love of these characters and lulled into a sense of security.

thank you for sharing this beautiful and soul warming piece of art with us and thank you for sharing all your scribblings with the world 🤍

i’m sure i’ll have more to say but for as of right now i’m gonna continue thinking about these two for as long as i can.

p.s. after reading the javi pov drabble i couldn’t help but wonder if you’ve thought about his pov for more situations? like when he leaves that second time (for four years) and when he pretends not to see her after the wedding dress day or any other times. i would love to keep swimming through his pov!

oh my god anon you're making me cry into my coffee rn (tears of LOVE) - I cannot believe how thoughtful and generous this is of you to write / send. speaking of enchanter of words & feelings hello?? this ask is poetry?? I am so fucking touched that you were so touched by I'll carry you - that series has been my favorite to work on so it just means so much that it's close to your heart, too.

I'm so glad that despite all it's angst (sorry to javi I swear you're my favorite pedro boy baby idk why I put you through the wringer with this one) that it's still a comfort to you?? like that's actually gonna make me full on weep to think about I'm so fucking honored <3

re: more javi pov - I am... certainly not opposed to this >:-) I've got a bunch in my writing queue that'll have to come first but I do intend to come back to these two in one shots in the future, sooooo I'm popping this in my ideas doc :,) I'm really so touched that you'd want to read more from them (sobsobsob)

thank you so much for reading & being so fucking sweet to me. I love you sm anon - I'm holding ur hand through the internet right now, ok? you're a fucking gem x

[aria-ashryver]

Chapter 41 (Snow In Crimson) (<-aahh prophecy title!!) of snow in crimson, starlight in gold is now up on AO3!

A/N: Lord. IDEK what to say about this one. 14k words but I didn't split it into a 2-parter this time, bc like. Once that ball got rolling, it needed to continue to roll. Stuff HAPPENS this chapter lol. I need to sit down. I am sitting down but I need to sit down more. I need advanced Bethesda style clipping into the ground sitting down.

Book: Immortal Desires Pairings: m!Cas x m!Gabriel x nb!MC (Luca O'Rinn) Rating/ Warnings: Explicit (overall rating), Violence (please note tags for full list of TW/CWs) Words: Longfic (ongoing), currently 311K words as at Ch 41

Summary:

CH41- Hic mortui vivunt...

Tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations @lilyoffandoms @stars-are-within-me

[littlelasagne]

Every time you post wip Wednesday I always try to avoid myself from reading it because I don't like to know any spoilers when reading the full chapter soon but I'm so happy by the posts because it means we're getting closer to get it!

Omg I didn't even think of it this way 😅🤣

Honestly I mainly do it to let anyone interested know that yes I am still working on it. Idek how many people still care. It's also a nice way to keep in touch with peeps as I don't really talk much online nor am I as active on discord anymore.

I do always try and post the right snippets with the right amount of teasing that it hopefully doesn't spoil everything in the chapter. I'm working on the next chap rn, which is 7k words, but I still need to finish a scene so it could jump up closer to 10k.

Thanks for the ask 🌻

[saintobio]

hi, saint! omg i finally caught your ask box open. first of all, i really love sy like it’s so heart-wrenching and deadass, i’ve been thinking about this for months. it’s literally one of the most beautiful works here in tumblr and as a writer myself (though i mostly write fluff and a bit of angst here and there mehehe), i have so much respect for you and i absolutely love what you do, like your craft is amazing and i hope you’re taking some much needed and well-deserved time here and there for yourself since you mentioned you’re feeling a bit fatigued.

i’d just like to ask the following:

1.) since i remember this one ask, and you’ve been pretty upfront about the timetable of sy with previous asks from years ago, i know you clarified that sy11 will be the climax (dear god how am i ever going to manage) so does it still stand that the angst will last ‘till sy14 since the only reason the timetable changed is bc one chapter split into two?

2.) also, i feel really bad for akemi lately like i get that all the girl wants is to be loved and to have a family, but seeing satoru ditch her like that on their date and then refer to keeping her around as just “fine”, is it really meant to resemble satoru’s earlier dynamic with yn in sn wherein they were only together because they “should” be together (lately, i’ve been noticing that the way you write the nuances of satoru’s thoughts about akemi always involves the word: “should”—)?

because if it is, you’re a genius, my god, the many “full circle” moments in sy (e.g. the encounter with sera!) just demonstrates your mastery and control of the plot and its overall dynamic. i honestly thought, at some point, gojoyn moments would be unsalvageable given the current conflict with akemi, but the way you’re steadily steering it back to the main couple is just…fucking flawless.

a long and happy life to you, our queen! 🩵👑

1) yes, angst will still progress until sy14. i’m surprised you still remember that? it’s been over a year gahhh 😫

2) fair point !! although i’m not sure this is something i can answer at this stage :))) that man is complicated as we all know

and thank you so so much T^T i really appreciate it like idek what to say i just wanna cry HSJS and also good luck to ur writing loveee <3 i’m sure you’re doing amazing urself !!

[super-paper]

How do you think toshi reaching the tomura vs izuku fight would go? For his next "role" in this arc, would he be there physically, through his aura might, or some other way? Id love to see him talk to tomura and witness izukus I am here! moment, but im guessing all that will happen in the vestige world, since he doesnt seem to be near them and idek if he can walk at all in order to reach them. (Additionally, I also hope izuku and toshi will get to have a proper, private and emotional talk after all this. For my dadmight feels ㅜㅜ since their reunion in 327 was honestly disappointing but we'll see!)

Can't say for certain at this point, but I feel like OFAFO shenanigans are going to happen and Toshi's momentary manifestation as a "full" vestige is going to end up being relevant (possibly through giving him the ability to "see" the other vestiges and what's happening in the vestige world instead of merely "feeling" it, the same way Tomura is now able to see them due to the resonance between OFAFO).

Before that, I also think that it's possible that the fight is going to be brought a little bit closer to where Toshi is-- Tomura is playing it cool atm ("No no no this is fine I'll just break them all as many times as it takes :) :) :) *very conspicuously scratching his neck*), but both he and AFO are currently malding over the fact that Toshi and Bakugo were saved, and I feel like this "mutual" hatred is gonna be part of what lets AFO take over Tomura again-- and after this happens, I wouldn't be surprised if he starts heading towards Toshi again.

Kurogiri/Aizawa also seem like they're going to play a big role by using erasure/warp at a key moment (probably to stop Tomurafo from unleashing a mass decay-wave in an attempt to kill everyone in the area?), so they're both kind of a wild card that could potentially warp Toshi closer to Tomura/Izuku or warp him away if need be.

(Additionally, I also hope izuku and toshi will get to have a proper, private and emotional talk after all this. For my dadmight feels ㅜㅜ since their reunion in 327 was honestly disappointing but we'll see!)

Yeah, same. Looking at the Iron Might chapters as a whole, I feel like the lack of a heart-to-heart between Toshi and Izuku regarding their falling out during the dark hero arc might've been intentional. Toshi attempting to kill himself to protect Izuku reads as the consequence of these two not sitting down to actually talk about their feelings imo:

So I definitely think we'll be getting an open and honest conversation between the two before the story ends. Toshi is more to Izuku than just his mentor, and Izuku is more to Toshi than just his disciple-- and them breaking free from the obligations that come with "being a symbol/hero/mentor/ect" should be cathartic for them both & allow them to both be more honest with themselves/each other and the fact that they both just want to be a part of each other's lives. Even if Toshi has nothing left to teach, even if Izuku doesn't have OFA.

[fantasymindpalace]

Stacked Up - quinlar stripper au

sooo here's the first chapter of my fic. i had a good time writing it so i hope u guys enjoy <3 idek if its like any good at all but whatever lol. you can also read on ao3

A lit mirthroot blunt resting on the side of an ashtray sent small tendrils of smoke idly floating up toward the ceiling of Bryce's bedroom. She picked it up between her first finger and thumb and took a long drag. As she exhaled the smoke, her phone buzzed with a notification where it lay next to the ashtray, amid a vast collection of makeup products that she was in the process of applying. It was a text message from Hunt Athalar. 

What time are you planning on leaving for work tonight?

Bryce rolled her eyes and smiled softly. Her shift at the White Raven would start at 10 tonight and would last until around 3 in the morning. The first shift with this new 'partner' or 'bodyguard', or whatever the hell Hunt was supposed to be. Without meaning to, her mind wandered to the conversation she'd had with him earlier that day. A debrief about her "side hustle", as she'd referred to it. 

"I also work night shifts on weekends. I start at 10 tonight."

"Wait, you have a second job? Where?" he'd inquired, looking confused. 

"Yeah. It's at the White Raven. It's like, my side hustle, I guess. But I'd really appreciate it if you kept it on the low. Only Juniper knows about it." She'd replied in a mildly irritated tone. 

"Not even Ruhn knows?"

"No, he doesn't know. Literally only Juniper."

"What, is it like, a secret or something?" Hunt had asked her. 

Bryce had let out a dramatic sigh accompanied by an exaggerated eye roll, then said, "No, it's not! Well, kinda. I do bottle service there. I don't tell anyone because it would be considered like, unbecoming of the prince's cousin to work in nightlife. But, whatever. It's how I afford my apartment and all the nice things you say I have."

"You do have a lot of nice stuff." he'd replied, earning another exasperated sigh from Bryce. It was true, though. Her closet was full of designer clothes, shoes, and accessories. Her apartment was beautifully furnished. And, on top of that, it seemed as though she was constantly getting her hair or nails done. 

"Well, I have expensive taste. Something you clearly don't know about," she'd said. Hunt had raised an eyebrow at that. 

Ignoring his expression, she continued, "Anyway, you should wait on the roof for me just like you do at Griffin. Just don't come in. Under any circumstances. Send me a text if you need me. I think it might compromise the investigation if the wrong person sees us there together."

The corner of Bryce's mouth quirked up into a little smirk at the memory of their conversation that afternoon. Hunt had seemed suspicious but didn't press any further. She picked up her phone, opened the message, and started to type. 

9:15. i need to get there early to change into my work clothes

He responded quickly.

Why not just put on your work clothes now?

because the uniform is a little........revealing lol

Understood. I'll be at your apartment at 9:10.

Bryce felt a slight twinge of guilt in her stomach at the lie. There was no uniform. She'd selected and purchased all of her work outfits herself. Her stomach twisted even more as she remembered the bigger lie from earlier. She wasn't doing bottle service at all. Whatever. His nosy ass was already in her business too much anyway. After taking another substantial drag from her blunt, she began to apply several layers of mascara to her long eyelashes. 

In the dressing room of the White Raven, Bryce leaned down to fasten the ankle strap of her heel. She wore a skimpy, hot pink bodysuit with crystal fringe adorning the minimal fabric that covered her hips and breasts. Her pink platforms were seven inches tall. Her burgundy hair was straightened and pulled back into a sleek ponytail, perfect for swinging around as she danced. The other girls were chattering and the heavy bass from the music playing on the club's speakers could be heard from above the ceiling. The room smelled of blunt smoke and hairspray. Vanities with lights around the mirrors displayed an assortment of beauty products and bobby pins scattered across the counters. 

"Juniper!" she called across the room, gesturing for her friend to help her with her outfit. "I can't tie this in the back."

Juniper pranced from the vanity she sat in front of over to Bryce.

"Turn around," Juniper said softly as she tied the strap of Bryce's top behind her neck. "This outfit is so cute! You'd better get a stack tonight!" she exclaimed with a wink and a tap on Bryce's mostly bare ass. Bryce giggled and turned around, crossing her arms and cocking her hip out to the side. 

"I'd better! It looked packed in there when I was coming in. I've made a thousand marks in a night with way less people in this bitch!" she said. "Your outfit is hot as fuck too, June. I'd say we're both leaving here with a stack!"

Juniper laughed aloud at that. Bryce glanced down at her phone screen, eyes widening. 

"Fuck! I'm supposed to be onstage in like, 2 minutes. See you on the floor, sexy!" she called out to Juniper as she started to walk toward the stage entrance. Her heart started to beat faster as she mentally prepared for her stage set. In her mind, Bryce ran through the songs the DJ would play for her and the choreography to each. She arrived at the backstage door and quietly slipped through, the volume of the music increasing substantially as it opened. She remained out of the crowd's sight as she waited for the dancer onstage to finish out her set. The DJ's voice boomed over the music coming through the speakers.

"Please give it up for Roxy Onyx!"

Bryce watched Roxy blow kisses toward the crowd, then bend down to start picking up the money at her feet while everyone cheered for her. Bryce applauded her as well. From what she could see, people were tipping well tonight. So, yes, she decided, she would be going home with a stack of marks tonight. As if on cue, the DJ's loud voice echoed through the club again as Roxy made her way offstage. Bryce gave her a high five as she walked past. 

"And now, please give a warm welcome to the star of tonight's show, Starlight!"

As Bryce walked onstage, the crowd erupted into cheering and applause. A wide smile graced her beautiful lips as she sauntered towards the center of the stage, swaying her hips purposefully. As soon as she placed her pretty hand on the pole, the first song of Bryce's set started playing, and she began to dance. She circled the pole a few times as the tempo started to increase. Her eyes scanned the crowd gathered before her, winking at a few regulars in hopes of getting them to tip more. Then, right as the beat dropped, she dropped to her knees. Placing her hands on the floor in front of her, she leaned forward slowly until her ass was high in the air. The volume of the crowd grew louder the higher Bryce's ass went. She scratched the floor with her long nails as she slowly rose to her knees again. In perfect time with the music, she popped back up on her feet, but remained low in a squat, working her hips to the rhythm. With one hand, she gripped the pole for support as the other hand snaked leisurely from her ankle all the way up her leg. She grabbed her ass cheek, jiggled it, and smacked it with a demure smirk toward the crowd as the money began flying all around and landing at her feet. 

Hunt could feel the heavy bass of the music vibrating in his chest as he sat on the roof. He tapped at a game on his phone, uninterested. To be honest, he was struggling to stay awake. He should at least be able to go in and get a drink, he thought, but he'd promised Bryce that he wouldn't. He opened the text message app on his phone and began typing.

Just checking in. Still want to leave at 3?

He knew he shouldn't be worried that Bryce didn't reply immediately. He knew she was working, obviously she wouldn't be able to get back to him right away. In an attempt to keep his mind off her, he closed the app and went back to the game. It didn't work. His thoughts kept returning to when he was picking her up from her apartment earlier. When she'd first opened the door, he'd barely been able to stifle his reaction. He was fixated on her alluring eyes, which were beautifully enhanced with dark, smoky makeup. Her long, pretty lashes left him breath taken. Then, he'd noticed her seductive, full lips, which were glossy and pink. Seeing that had caused another reaction. A physical one, which was much more difficult to conceal. And, as if all that wasn't enough, her perfume was purely intoxicating. Hunt had been trying not to imagine the "revealing" uniform Bryce was wearing right now. Trying, and failing. A deep sigh passed through his lips as he set his phone face down beside him, gazing toward the night sky. For a moment, he closed his heavy eyelids. He'd almost started to doze off when his phone vibrated with a notification. It was a text message from Bryce Quinlan. 

yeah. im doing good, ty for checking in. i'll be out in 20

Cool. See you then.

As Bryce and Hunt made their way back to the apartment, he noticed how tired she looked. She kept shifting her duffel bag of work clothes from shoulder to shoulder, so he offered to carry it for her. 

"I don't need some alphahole to carry my shit for me." she quipped. About two minutes later, she wordlessly handed the bag to him. The pair continued silently until they reached the door to Bryce's apartment. As she unlocked the door, Hunt asked, "How did your shift go?"

Bryce pushed through the door and said, "It was pretty good. I met my goal for the night!" stifling a yawn as she spoke. 

"Your goal?"

"Yeah, June and I set goals for tips sometimes."

"Oh? And what was your goal tonight?" he asked absentmindedly. He was more focused on her sleepy eyes, reddened from smoking mirthroot. 

"A stack," she stated simply.

"What?" 

"A stack!" she replied, pulling a zipper wallet out of a side pocket on the duffel bag Hunt was still holding. 

"Like, a stack as in a thousand marks?" Hunt questioned her. He wasn't sure they were referring to the same amount, considering it would be an outrageous amount of tip money to make in a single night. 

Bryce beamed as she removed a thick wad of cash from the wallet. "A thousand marks!" she exclaimed and started to count the money. One thousand three hundred and twenty gold marks. Hunt couldn't believe his eyes. He was simply too tired to conceal the disbelief on his face as he gently set the duffel bag down by the door. He couldn't fathom how she did it. But, he supposed, he would tip extra too if someone who looked like Bryce was his bottle girl. In fact, if Bryce was serving him bottles in the club, he'd probably end up giving her everything in his wallet. So he could potentially see how she pulled it off. Still, it was almost unbelievable.

"What?" she teased. "This is how I afford all my nice things, Hunt."

He shrugged. "I guess that explains it." He was trying to act casual, but his name coming from those pretty lips would be his undoing, and he was becoming too exhausted to resist them.

Bryce laughed unabashedly. Hunt's heart melted. 

"Well, I'm going to bed," she said, "I work again tomorrow night, same time. Rest up!"

With that, she swiped the cash off the counter in one motion, sauntered past him, and headed to her room. Hunt, still contending with his skepticism and intense attraction, obeyed her and went to bed.

[super-rangers]

just finished rereading uiw ....... ugh! it's so good! i cried a bit at the ending (i think i cried the first time too), i'm a sucker for an ending like that with the rewriting in a slightly different way (am not a writer, don't even know if there's an expression for this type of thing, just love it), it's just so good!

and i just realized rereading it that (idek if it was on purpose because it's not EXACTLY the same, just reminded me) they end up in kinda the same way as their first interaction during spring fling, with regina pressed against janis and holding her not wanting to let go. i mean uuuuuugh - i can't (i might be crying again, the story is sooo goooood)

but! i have little bits of these last few chapters that i want to know more about because you created an entire universe and i'm so invested!

first is just a thought, that is related to the movie as well but i've only realized reading your story, is that regina keeps the pin IN THE CLOSET - the layers of meaning in this, i wonder if the writers have thought of it, but do you think that, not at the time because it's a cutesy little thoughtful moment, but some other time, that janis makes fun of the pin being in the closet as well?

also, i have a question about the duckies! because they've been in my head all this time, i love this little prank

where does regina keep the ones she found? im sure doesn't throw them away, but does she have like a duckie shrine with all of them together somewhere? or just like leave them scattered around the house?

and finally! been reading the asks, and think it would be so cute to see some fluff: you answered one time that kanis would get an opportunity to do Regina's make on halloween, so how would it go? (it could be a prompt for a full on one-shot, or it could just be for you to talk about it because some of your asks almost little drabbles and i love it) - i mean i'd love to see them in that cliche pose of Girlfriend #1 lying down and Girlfriend #2 stradling her and doing her make-up, but idk i think both of them care too much about make-up (and janis cares too much about the Art of make-up) to do it like this? but what do you think??

thanks again, seriously, for this amazing piece of writing, i will go on to reread the first one shot and then finally read the second one shot, and just to tell you again you created an incredible extended universe (but when you move on to other rejanis stories i WILL be there as well)

omg thank you!! I can't believe UIW made you cry! Sorry about that (or you're welcome? idk)

I didn't even notice the parallel between spring fling and the end there! You're noticing more about my story than I did lol

oh Janis fully makes fun of Regina for that. Like she's never given Regina a moment of peace about anything - why would she start now?

the ducks!!! I think I mentioned it a while ago, but Regina keeps all of the ducks in a shoe box under her bed! She wants to keep them, but doesn't need anyone knowing that she's sentimental in that way, so they're hidden.

I think Janis gets them into that pose simply to take a photo of it because it's not the most conducive way to do Regina's makeup. I'm adding a little halloween prompt to the list though bc it'd be fun to write.

Thank you so much for the very sweet message!! I will apologize now for the second one shot lmao

[ovaruling]

negative self talk incoming for whoever needs that idek

regular daily update that i regret having my like 99999 cosmetic surgeries so much and i dont even want to put the exhaustive energy into accepting my face and body atp anymore bc they remain utter strangers who i hate

and despite all of the feminist theory i have read and comprehended and applied to the way i see the world i STILL cannot rid myself of this very specific form of self-hatred and im not even being defeatist when i say i truly know that i will never be at peace bc of the choices i have made. like how can i ever be ok with this. i’d have to be lobotomized to be cool with this

and even besides that the chronic physical pain and damage to my actual nervous system won’t allow me a moment of forgetfulness. like on an amazing day where i’m full of caffeine or xanax i can MAYBE forget what i look like for an hour but it’s impossible to forget that i literally cant physically feel my entire torso and abdomen and buttocks and my upper back and my inner thighs and upper arms and underarms and my jaw and cheeks

but also at the same time i can feel incredible levels of stabbing numb shocks of pain in all of them lmfao.

exercising helps for a bit and reminds me that i can at least move my body around but i always gotta come back to reality where i have to confront that i’m genuinely permanently ill and legitimately brain damaged. like neurologically

and bc of that i went from being a normal adult 10 years ago to now i cant hold a job, cant go back and attend school, cant drive a car anymore, need IV treatments weekly, no independence, no ability to even volunteer for longer than an hour at local animal shelters before i start having problems bc i cant explain to anyone why i need to lie down every 2 hours or else i legitimately go numb and pass out no matter how little exertion im doing, no future where i can help the world the way i want to. i cant even read 2 chapters of a fucking favorite book that i LOVE without getting dizzy for no fuckjng reason. i have to REST from reading a fucking BOOK

and doctors are just like “oh well that’s what happens when you fucking almost die two times from elective surgery lol kinda your fault tbh. you really should’ve just accepted how viciously hated by men your body was. but the human body is so mysterious huh!!! like this is crazy dude lmao. 🤪 so yeah here’s a pamphlet for a support group that doesn’t really fit your needs and some medication that won’t work bc we still don’t really know how to diagnose or treat plastic surgery victims like this bc technically you weren’t in a car crash or anything so we don’t really have enough research rn to fully apprehend what’s going on w your mysterious ass. also you had more surgeries than most ppl ever will be stupid enough to undertake so like we have no idea what to do w you lol!!!!!! there isn’t really data that fits your situation but maybe in 30 years 😌”

just in case anyone was wondering if i changed my mind on cosmetic surgery being true evil!!!!!! lol

ok sorry for the pity party i just really am feeling the weight of it all rn

[c-h-stevens]

Sorry, but the last *checks notes* literal dozen times I posted about my money problems and fear of being evicted went pretty much ignored, so I felt the need to raise my voice.

Anyway! I hate to ask for money without giving anything at all in exchange. Though writing is my only marketable skill (for a certain value of marketable).

I'm publishing a serial webnovel you can read for free right here (scroll down this post for more info)

I'm disabled and struggle to pay the bills as it is, so making money from my writing would mean a lot for my continued survival

If you happen to like my writing, I have memberships open in Ko-fi. You can get Early Access chapters and behind-the-scenes posts and (eventually) bonus ebooks and other cool stuff! If you just want to donate a buck or two and go on your way, though, I'm not gonna tell you not to

(By the way, Ko-fi memberships get renewed after 30 days of signing up, not at the 1st of the next month! That means you get 30 full days' worth of your money, and I can continue pestering y'all to subscribe all month round 😊)

If I make $500 in the next two weeks (doesn't matter if they come from memberships or not), I'll write two bonus chapters of my webnovel (around 5k each, separate of other rewards) and publish them during July (either that or publish two bonus Early Access chapters of the main story, IDEK what y'all want)

Things I plan to do when I reach specific membership goals and info about my webnovel right here 👇

When my monthly memberships reach $50, I'll make a regularly updated Character Guide in the style of the Glossary

When my monthly memberships reach $150, I'll add another Early Access chapter available for members (right now chapters are released on Ko-fi 2 weeks before they're available for free, but when I reach this stage they'll become available 3 weeks earlier)

When my monthly memberships reach $300... I honestly don't know. Let me know if you have any ideas!

When my monthly subscriptions reach $500, I'll write a Ko-fi exclusive bonus webnovel chapter every month (apart from the main storyline; $5 subscribers will be able to suggest the theme. If there's several equally likely suggestions, all members will be able to vote on which one they like the most)

When my monthly subscriptions reach $750, I'll start working on audiobook and paper book editions to be released ASAP

Honestly, the idea of getting to $1000 a month makes me feel slightly dizzy--but I will find something special to do, for sure!

And finally, about the webnovel:

Genres: Gothic fantasy M/M romance

Blurb: Azul Mamani is just a young mixed-race farmer who also happens to be a great-grandson of the Megarchon, the tyrant ruling the entire world. And secretly plotting her downfall. Before his plans go too far, however, he’s hastily summoned to the capital. For the first time, there's no successor who can wield the Imperium, the mysterious source of the Megarchon's terrifying power. Civil war looms in the horizon.

Azul has no power and no allies—only a dangerous man known as Vanth Umbra, King of the Dying Sun, born to protect the living from the creatures of the Underworld. Sex is the one bargaining chip Azul has, so it's a good thing Vanth wants him—except he can’t be trusted, especially not when he appoints himself as Azul's protector. However, as Azul is caught between a necromancer after his life, an elite guard sworn to the Megarchon, and a dissenter faction with its own plans, binding himself to Vanth might be his only chance to survive.

Some things you might want to know before reading: This story is intended for an adult audience. Trauma and abuse are central parts of the story, especially (past) child abuse. Poor coping mechanisms are featured prominently. Under-negotiated BDSM is common. Suicidal ideations come up too. There's also violence, gore, and horror elements, particularly in later arcs.

But I can promise there's a happy ending. Eventually.

If you've made it this far, congratulations! Here's Dani

[myheartbelongstothefandom]

about the movie, i have ... a lot of mixed feelings, and its been a very long time since i even used this blog, but i need to ramble into the void about it.

first of all, i am actually really happy that there is new material, and i cried when i knew it was on the cinemas in my country and i cried non stop for a very long time, and i was happy while watching the movie, but it was lacking, to say the least, it was a bad movie. so its a bit infuriating to see so much praise going to it, when ...

first of all, its really frustrating that after four year all we get is one movie that doesnt even reaches 90 minutes (i do not know how it went i didnt read anything about the production or whatever went backstage, and tbh i dont think i care, 4 years is a lot of time, considering that the first three seasons were released one year apart from each other, and the fourth season even though it took them 3 years there was covid and ... there were in total 24 or 25 episodes. not 86 minutes)

i know im gonna say something that has already been said, but its very odd that it was a movie and not one full season?? theres no argument that would make it make sense to me why, for the love of god, they decided to make this arc a movie. theres so much to be said about it idek where to begin

if im correct, this game goes from the chpater 249 to 322 (i did not read the manga), and i do not like being the nerd but... all the four seasons, in total, are 85 episodes, meaning they adapted 249chapters to create those 85 episodes. so the 73 (from 249 to 322) chapters couldve been adapted into a whole season of 24 episodes !! its really odd that they chose to do a movie when there was so much material that couldve, and shouldve, been adapted.

this is a game that was awaited since the first season, it was the second practice match karasuno had, and it was a goal since the beginning, to play against nakome in a national tournament. the fact that they spent the time that would be like 4 episodes on this is mind blowing. the game against shiratorizawa was 10 episodes, the game agains (the game in the first season again dateko goes on for 2 episodes!!!) THE FIRST GAME AGAINST AOBA JOHSAI STARTS SOMEWHERE ON THE 19 EPISODE AND GOES ON UNTIL 24 !!!!!!!! BE FOR REAL BE FOR REAL PLS YES IT WAS AN IMPORTANT GAME BUT THERES NO COMPARASION

the flashbacks were interesting and i was rll glad i saw them but bc everything was so rushed, it just felt like chunks that they had to put there somewhere in the middle of the game. and while throughout the series it was works wonderfully and its really fluid, in the movie every time i was about to get inti the game there was a flashback....

one of the reasons why i love haikyuu is because they dont focus just on one character or one team (one of my favorite episodes is even winners and losers, season 1, ep 16): in this anime, because its volleyball, theres no need to have a villain, the motivation is always to win, and maybe the character has a reason or maybe it doesn't, but that doesnt matter. and they could paint the other teams as villains, but that would be cheap and tbh overdone, they are not the big bad wolves trying to takee away the victory of the main character, they are just highschool students that want to play and to win to keep on playing. so the fact that they only focused on kenma, and kuroo ig, really took away some of the charm of haikyuu.

there were very few memorable moments, sure the final kenma pov was cool af, the shot of kenma and hinata with a knife was amazing, and the animation of kenma putting hinata on a cage was also cool. and i did like the way kenma looked kinda... sad?? when hinata started to be down, but ..... it just wasn't enough.

it wasn't enough to the overall quality haikyuu as as a whole, and tbh i dont even think it was a good movie