#i'll try setting some things up this year to send them. i'd like them to be enjoyed instead of being sequestered until the end of time haha

[datastate]

it is a little sad having gifts for people that i really have no way of giving.

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Hello everyone! Welcome to our Valentine's Week mini Self Ship event!

Pr*sh//ip please dni

From February 12th to the 18th, I'd like to invite you all to participate in a self ship event all about love! This is meant to be a low-effort, laid-back event where the hardest thing you'll probably have to do is interact with other people 😅 Each day will have a different theme for every type of f/o and self shipper! The themed days are listed below:

February 12th - Familial F/o Day! This day will be all about focusing on your familial f/os! Parents, siblings, kids, or any other character you consider part of your family. ❤️❤️

February 13th - Platonic F/o Day! This day is dedicated to all our fictional besties!! Give some appreciation to the f/os that are there for a good laugh and a shoulder to cry on. 💛💛

February 14th- Romantic F/o Day! Of course, Valentine's Day itself will be dedicated to the special f/os in our lives who are there for us through thick and thin. Our f/os love us every day and we love them, but we'll give them extra love today! 🩷🩷

February 15th - Self Love Day! Sure, it can be argued that all of self ship is a form of self love, but I really want us all to focus on it today, by thinking about and maybe even listing out the things that our f/os would especially love about us. 💝💝

February 16th - February 18th - F/o Takeover & Letter Writing Weekend! This one is a bit of a player's choice; option one, an f/o takeover! Y'all know the drill on that one by now, let your f/os of choice answer questions on your blog for the weekend. ❤️ Option two, for those not into takeovers, is to spend the weekend writing love letters to your f/os! They can be as short or long as you like, while also making as few or as many as you'd want to. I'd also like to highly encourage sending out f/o letters to your fellow self shippers from their own f/os! ❤️

There we have it! That's our weekend, laid out in its entirety. However, these are more guidelines than strict rules. You can really run the week any way you like, as long as you're enjoying yourself!

I would also like to add that this month, for those who don't know, is Black History Month, so while you focus on your ships, don't forget to show some love to my black brothers and sisters in the self ship community as well! 🧡🧡🧡

I'll have some more suggestions on things to do below the cut, but I'll end it here up top, because this is long enough as it is. Feel free to reblog to get the word around, and for just one week, let's only think about love. ❤️💝🥺💝❤️

Now then, here are some suggestions on things to do over the week on our themed f/o days:

For our creative types, you could create some art and doodles, writing and drabbles, gifs, screenshots, or any other type of content for your f/os of the day.

For those who want a more chill experience, just some good ol' gushing will work perfect! I'll also be trying to make some short ask games full of questions for each themed day.

For the self-love day in the 15th, I highly encourage everyone to make a list of things that their f/os love about them. Of course not everything is always perfect, so if you'd like, you can also talk about your flaws and the way that your f/os would still love you with them. I don't wanna see any self deprecation though, because I know all of you are much more wonderful than you may think! ❤️❤️

Lastly, for the weekend, as I said earlier I would love to see people sending out letters to other self shippers. If anyone remembers the To My S/i events from a few years back, as much as I would love to run an event like that, I know that's setting some people up for disappointment when they don't receive any letters, so I want it to be something that's encouraged but not expected. That being said, it's still highly encouraged! Even if you're worried about how accurately you may write someone's f/o, I believe you should still give it a try anyway! 💝💝💝

That's about all the suggestions I have, except for this last one: while this week is about love for our f/os, I still wanna see love for our fellow self shippers with plenty of interaction going around, even something as small as a reblog or question sent for an ask game makes a big difference! And remember, just like the New Radicals said, "you only get what you give."

If you're reading this far, then thank you! Go ahead and throw a "btw my f/os love me" into your tags to let me know you got this far. I hope everyone enjoys the event!! 🩷❤️💝❤️🩷

[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, “Jesse 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.”

Jesse. Newly-single, built like a Greek statue, and close enough that Poppy was loaning him cookware, Jesse. 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)

[twig-tea]

East Palace, West Palace in ep5 of Blue Canvas of Youthful Days

I have been punched in the solar plexus by Blue Canvas of Youthful Days episode 5. So much happens in that episode that is overwhelming, from Qi Lu setting up a Netflix-and-chill date with the clear intention of making a move, to his putting on the famous film East Palace, West Palace (1996), to Qi Lu hiding Qin Xiao in the closet, to Qi Lu's panic at his father realizing he's been lied to, to the devastatingly practiced way Teacher Liu steps to Qi Lu being abused and handles his father, to the way Qi Lu shuts down, to the way QIn Xiao keeps sending mixed signals and Qi Lu calls him on it directly. And nobody else in this episode let me rest either; Tan Fan trying to ask Teacher Liu to wait for him and Liu brushing him off AGAIN, and Turtle trying to call out

@lurkingshan was already more coherent than I can be right now about what happened in the episode in her post.

So instead I want to focus on some queer cinema history that this episode evoked by using East Palace, West Palace as the film that Qi Lu shows to QIn Xiao.

For those who don't know, EPWP is considered to be the first realistic depiction of a gay man in film by a mainland Chinese production. It is to my knowledge the first time a gay man says "I love you" to another man on screen. It was made before being gay was decriminalized in China (1997), and it was filmed by an independent production company and smuggled out of China to France in order to be finished and distributed. It ended up at the Cannes festival in 1997, but the director's passport was seized and he was placed under house arrest to prevent him from attending. Despite pressure to pull the film, it still aired that year. In 1998, the Film Law was passed to prevent anyone from making films outside of the studio system (and therefore censorship review), effectively preventing anything like EPWP from being made in the future.

The film is about a gay man who cruises in the notorious bathrooms in the parks on either side of Tiananmen Square getting harassed by police officers (a situation extremely familiar to the historical queer experience in Canada [where I'm from] as well) and playing what I'd describe as a psychological game with one of them; A Lan kisses the cop, runs, and then gets caught a second time, and uses the second police confession as an excuse to tell his life's story in the public record, all while pushing the police officer a little further into deviance. As far as I'm aware, this film has been banned in China since being made and never shown (please correct me if I'm wrong about that!).

This is hitting me hard because of the much more recent history of Blue Canvas of Youthful Days itself. As most of you know, but I'll capture here for posterity, episodes 1-4 of this show aired on iQIYI (a China-based app) on August 6, and within 24 hours they were pulled from the app with no information about the future episodes being shown. When I watched episode 5 today, after waiting for it for 3 months, I was immediately hit with a wave of anger that this gorgeous, emotionally moving and powerful episode had been held back from public consumption for months, for the same reasons that the film being shown within the episode had been withheld from viewing in its own country.

Censorship is such an ugly thing, it's hard to articulate but the emotions around it are so strong because we know, when they pull or refuse to show media that depicts our lives, it's because they don't want our lives to be real; they don't want us to exist. It's a very real threat. And to have this episode--which is all about an abused boy who is in very real danger but so bravely insisting that he shoot his shot and take his best chance at love and happiness anyway, using the iconic confession scene from one of the most famous banned films in Chinese queer cinema history to do it--to have this episode be the one that was prevented from airing......I am overwhelmed.

In the scenes they watch in episode 5, A Lan tries to prevent the officer from uncuffing him, and then the officer lets him go, but A Lan doesn't go far and comes back. He declares his love to the officer's face, and demands that his love be acknowledged and not dismissed. And the officer does not know what to do with it and reacts with violence, which is partially what A Lan has been angling at all along. The show really played with this by having all three of the couples in the show stymied by having their overtures dismissed this episode, but we almost didn't get to see it.

I'm so grateful this got distribution now, and on multiple platforms. Blue Canvas of Youthful Days is airing Saturdays and Sundays on GagaOOLala and Youtube (note, as per @thisonelikesaliens's excellent language posts, the subs on Gaga are much better), and on Mondays on Viki. I know there is an avalanche of content right now, but this show is so good and worked so hard to make it to us, please give it some love!

[wings-of-ink]

Future IFs Poll

So, in case you have not seen me post about it before, I am considering a project to do on the side while I work on God-Cursed. This will help me take breaks from my main work and stretch my creativity muscles with different characters and settings. I'd like a bit of feedback from what readers are more interested in from the best ideas I can potentially pull from right now. Feel free to vote, comment, or even send an ask if you want to be anonymous.

Over the last year or so, I have jotted down many basic plots I could expound on, but only a few have really stuck out to me as ones I could really expand in a meaningful way.

So, a couple housekeeping things to keep in mind. Whatever ends up getting written, it will have a modern-day setting. The fantasy playground is fun, but I really want a more real-world setting for this one. I am also debating about all ROs being gender-selectable. Since this side piece is supposed to be a little oasis for me too, not having each RO as customizable would ease the work that goes into it, and it might actually mean I can have more than just a few options for you as well. I am also considering a middle ground and having one or two characters customizable still while the others will be set.

Below I have given some details on the ideas I'm working with and further down is a poll that you can vote for the one that calls out to you the most. I have 2 ideas so far that are standouts among the others, but I've included 4 in the poll that I can work with. The winner isn't guaranteed to be what I end up writing, but I am very strongly going to consider the results while I decide. I like all these ideas and they sound fun to write - so none of this telling me to write what I want - I already want to do them all, lol (looking at you @elegantunknownphantom). There are caveats to each one, of course, and I'll explain that in the details.

Options:

Serial-killer crime drama:  "Daddy was a Killer" (title sounds like it came from a Lifetime original movie, but I really like it)

No doting daddies here, readers. Play as the traumatized child of a serial killer with repressed memories of the horrible things they witnessed daddy do. Get accused of a murder you didn't commit (probably), and try to catch your darling dad while dealing with the psychological devastation of all the horrors you've seen before he can kill again (and again, and again). Discover where your daddy disappeared to all those years ago, and what really happened to your mom.

Downsides:  I have a decent grasp of the plot on this one, but it would require a good deal of research (which I tend to do anyway to an extent), since I'd like a fairly realistic feel to the actual crime-solving stuff. Either that, or I can go the "rogue detective" route and play it fast and loose. This work would be in a wheelhouse I've never quite been in before, which is fun on one hand but nerve-wracking on another.

RO ideas include:

A smarmy detective (of course!)

A neighbor concerned for your well-being (mostly because you scream in your sleep)

And the child of one of your daddy's victims.

2. Supernatural mystery:  "Shivers" (title up for adjustment, but I kinda dig it)

Play as an MC with a bizarre anxious tic - an intense and chilling shiver that you get seemingly out of nowhere. It only lasts a couple seconds and you've dealt with it since childhood, so it's easily dismissed. That is, until you experience a sudden surge in occurrences. Your doctor writes it off as stress from dealing with the erratic behavior of your mother. But after a near-death experience, during which this mysterious tic guides you to safety, you know there is more to it than stress. With the help of your best friend(s) and a shady medium, find out what has attached itself to you and what seeks to claim you, discover who your real father is, and embrace or deny your own strengths as a medium.

Downsides:  I feel like there's a lot of supernatural IFs already, some of which are already similar to this or have similar aspects. This one probably won't have the drama/emotional potential that some of the others do, which may be a boon to some readers as it would be a little lighter.

RO ideas include:

the best friend(s) (potentially 2 besties to choose from - twins)

a (mostly) fake spiritual medium

a brave EMT who came to your rescue

and something…otherworldly.

3. Gritty Drama:  no title  (more of a framework to build from)

This one would be completely riddled with warnings, and I kinda just see it as being a fun outlet for some angst, smut, unhinged shit, and violence. 👍

The ideas for this one didn't start around a firm plot, but around a setting/scenario stemming from one of my OCs. The vibe here is very much "sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll" and fits into the seedy nightclub/crime ring thing. It would be a playground of questionable characters and life-choices. You would choose the dire straits that put your MC in the employ of a dangerous kingpin. Perhaps MC owes a lot of money to someone, got into trouble with a rival faction, or was framed for a crime, etc.... You'd get to choose the MC's line of work under the organization - be it in drugs, entertainment (music/dance/alcohol/sex), or security. The issue that leads to your employ under a sex-peddling drug-trafficker will haunt you in your new life in the middle of a war between the rulers of the underground.

Downsides:  Not super fleshed-out plot wise, but I don't think it would be too hard to build on either. I may want to use this setting (or something like it) and my OC for a different project one of these days, but I'm unsure about that as well. And, the obvious, red flags and triggers everywhere for a setting like this.

RO ideas: 

One person from each potential "job" (the head of security, a chemist who seems too pure to be making hard drugs, a sex-worker, the clumsy bartender, a cute DJ)

A member of a rival faction

And for the brave and stupid - your boss - a clever and unhinged woman with an affinity for knives. And, no, she will never love you.

4. Futuristic:  no title (needs the most work)

Including this one to just get a feel for how it's received, but I anticipate that it won't get quite as much backing as the others. I have the character-creation concept in mind which lends itself to a plot, and a RO or two, but that's about it. I think I could do something fun with it, but I've also never written anything futuristic or scifi before. This would be akin to "Detroit: Become Human."

Though the setting would be futuristic, I am pretty sure I wouldn't want to do a dystopian thing. There's a lot of that out there already and we're basically living it IRL; it's a blast to read, but I want the main focus to be on something else if I do this. There would still be pockets of grittiness to the setting, because if we're talking humanity, there's gonna be grit somewhere. But this world would be more post-dystopian. Say, the rebels won and life has gotten better across the board for people? And though everyday life has a lot of tech enhancements, we haven't seen sentient machines - yet. That's where you come in.

The MC Concept is that they are an android - of course! One of the nice made-to-order kind that only the rich can afford. But what makes the MC unique is that while everyone else requests specific things about the androids they purchase - such as gender, looks and even downloadable personalities - an order comes in that's blank. It only requests that the android be allowed to choose who they are and how they look. "The Buyer" will pay for whatever personality, enhancements, or clothing they want - but the android must make the choices themselves.

As your MC goes through these initial choices, equipped only with a basic "education" software full of un-opinionated information about the world and how it works, something unusual begins to spark within them (not that they know how unusual it is yet).

RO ideas:

The Buyer–a gender-selectable person who sets your creation in motion. They're wealthy, well-respected, earnest, and incredibly lonely. Who are they really and why did they do this?

The Scientist–a hopefully trustworthy person that's very interested in your development

The Punk–someone who wants to give you the "real" human experience.

Make your selection below. Comment your thoughts and ideas as well if you like. This is set for a week and I will reblog here and there so it has a chance to reach as many of you who would like to vote as possible.

[displ3azant]

CURRENTLY ASK-ABLE: - Unpleasant - Infected (Plez oversees the questions, though.)

(Before cut is In-Character.)

Hiii! Helloooo!

Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.

So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.

Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.

Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.

BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇

(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)

To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.

And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.

Blog-Context

So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...

I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!

MAIN TAGS:

#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks

#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs

#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar

#ooc - Out-of-character post

OTHER TAGS (to be updated):

(nothing yet, hehe)

Blog-Owner

So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!

I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.

My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.

Ask/RP-Boundaries

Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.

ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.

Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.

Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.

Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,

PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!

That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe

Lots of love, - Hex

[channieskies]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐗𝐈: 𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

Pairing: Prince Hyunjin x Reader (AFAB) Summary: The crew sets off on their journey back to the Kingdom of Volantis. Word Count: 3,400+ [Reading Time: 15 Mins] Genre: Historical, Fantasy, Strangers to Lovers, Royalty, Angst, Smut (Eventual), NSFW tags are below. AU: Prince, Royal, Supernatural NETS: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society Synopsis: The kingdom of Volantis is in disarray; the monarch rules with an iron fist. The times of hope, harmony, and kindness were buried with the queen who passed many years ago. The people are praying for a savior, but who will be their light at the end of this dark tunnel? Authors Note: Please reblog or leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. As per usual, this hasn't been proofread. I'm posting the remaining written chapters, before I officially put this story on hiatus. I'm sorry for taking so long to update, but I hope this helps at least a little. Special thanks to @therhythmafterthesummer for helping with with this chapter and @saradika-graphics for some of the dividers. Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Looking for another chapter? Chapter Index: Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5| Chapter 6| Chapter 7| Chapter 8| Chapter 9| Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of seizures. Reader discretion is advised.

This was the second time you were being sent off. But this felt a lot heavier for some reason. Something didn't sit right about leaving Venia here by herself. There would be people who came for her and for Hyunjin. When they realized that she was alone, no prince in sight, there was no telling what they might do to her and that frightened you. You hoped she'd leave the keep and find some place to lay low while you got the prince out of dodge. You knew Hyunjin Saw her as a mother figure, and honestly you didn't think he would survive if anything happened to her. 

“Why do you look so perturbed, child?” Your body froze then relaxed at her words. Her and your mom surely did work in mysterious ways. Both could read the people around them like open books. “If you are worried about me, don't be. There is a reason the prince has been safe this long and it's not because they didn’t try.” Was she insinuating what you thought she was? Her lips curled into a knowing smile. “When the queen was young, she wanted to learn combat, so that's what we did in our spare time while her husband was busy being King. We learned how to protect ourselves and the ones around us. Because in this world there are few you can truly rely on. My dear friend… she knew that all too well, so she took it upon herself to learn as much as she could. Thinking back on it now, I guess it was kind of foresight. We learned to protect ourselves so that I could protect the precious boy she sacrificed her life for.” She chuckled as if looking back on fond memories. 

“So, all in all my girl, I can and will take care of myself. Plus, If all else fails, this place has a few tricks up its sleeve.” She winked then nodded to the keep. “You just… Worry about you and the prince. I know Minho will worry about you both.” She chuckled, guessing she had checked the lot of you out, like books out of the library. She had come to know so many things about the both of you in such a short amount of time. She even knew he was a notorious worry wart, something that wasn’t obvious to the untrained eye.

“I will try my best to get him there safely, Venia. I promise.” She barely let you finish before she was pulling you into a tight hug. “I'll send word once we arrive.” She shook her head, pulling away from you, hands moving from around you to rest on your shoulders. It really felt as if you were hugging your mother once again, you almost didn’t want to let go. You were already missing the fond feelings of home.

“Don't. I'll find out. Things coming out of the castle right now can't be trusted. Your father knows the way, he will get in contact.” You weren't skeptical, you had the utmost faith in your father, but it didn’t put you at ease that you had many trials ahead of you and you hadn’t even left the isle of Arcta yet. The goodbye between Venia and Hyunjin took just as long as the one between you and your mother. She voiced her concerns, tried her best to explain to him how things were going to be for a while, until they were reunited once more. She even told him, the prince of Volantis, to listen to you and Minho. You found that part to be amusing. 

He was reluctant to leave her side. Clutching onto the woman for dear life as they embraced. You knew all too well what that felt like and empathized with him on that point. She was all he knew as a mother figure and what made it even harder was the fact that she was the only person he’d know for over a decade now. To go from constantly being around someone to them not being around at all was going to be a hard adjustment for him. You turned your head from watching them, giving them a moment to themselves. Because regardless of you and Minho’s skill, there were still doubts that the three of you would make it back to the capitol city, unscathed. You’d just narrowly escaped death just under an hour ago.

The journey just to the Isle of Arcta was quite a tumultuous one, with having to battle changing climates as well as  coming to blows with a flock of bandits and a near death experience. While Hyunjin had only been on this journey for a little over a week and had only seen the smooth side of a cross country trip, he was starting to grow impatient with the pace that the lot of you had been traveling. It behooved you how a man that's been trapped in a tower for most of his life could be so restless because he was simply traveling across the country.

“Any updates on how much longer this trip will take?” He poked his head through the tiny window box, right between you and Minho, nearly getting stuck. This was the sixth time he’d asked that since you started your travels up again at sunrise.  “It f-feels like we’ve been riding forever.” His voice came out in a small whine.

It had been nearly a month into your travels for you and Minho, having traveled from the midlands to the far north and now, with the prince in tow, you were headed to the north-east where both Hyunjin and Minho hailed from. Since you’d left the Isle of Arcta, you’d journeyed through the eternal land of winter that bordered the northern ice capped islands, the Taiga Tundra, just to avoid the deadly mountains that cut through the middle of it.

You’d even traveled through a few towns, gathering supplies to keep you through your travels. Always making sure the prince was never seen by anyone but the two of you transporting him. You couldn’t risk someone finding out who he was. Even in disguise, draped in the clothes of people far beneath his status, there was something about him that screamed that he was a man of distinction. It seemed no matter how normal and everyday you tried to make him look, nothing could make this man seem anything but royal. Now you were crossing the sprawling grasslands of Dangar with its sprawling hills and thick forestry that bordered its perimeter. 

You controlled your face, something that Minho was having a hard time doing himself, annoyance was evident all over it. “Your high- I mean,” You cleared your throat. “Hyunjin, this is a long trip. Do you not remember how long it took you and Venia to get to the Isle of Arcta from Volantis ?” He shook his head and a sigh passed your lips. “Well, this trip is long and cumbersome. Maybe find something to occupy your time.” You wanted to tell him to piss off because he was starting to do exactly that to you.

But you held your tongue, knowing that the exiled prince leaned towards the more sensitive side. Plus, you didn’t have the same type of sibling-esque relationship that you and Minho shared. You didn’t want to make this trip any more awkward than it had to be. He was also the future king of Volantis and it would probably be best not to get on his bad side, for your sake and the sake of Minho and the rest of your family.

“I’ve read all of my books, twice. And I’m not sure I can p-paint any more of the surrounding landscapes…. They stopped looking different several towns ago. My lady.” You stiffened at his formality at the end of his sentence. Of all the things you’d been called, a lady was never one of them. Despite it being your actual title. “Are long journeys always this tedious? It’s been a long while since I last traveled, as you can pro-probably tell.. So it’s easy to say that I don’t get out much. Do you travel a lot, my lady? If so, where have you been? Did you enjoy it? Could you perhaps tell me a few stories about your travels if you have done any? Have you seen any of the fabled monsters they write about in b-books?”

He went on and on asking a million questions with seemingly no end. “Ah-” You jumped as his voice echoed in your ear, Minho smirked as he noticed the annoyed look on your face. You thought you had successfully tuned out all of his ramblings. “I could paint you! Si-since it seems you aren’t up for any questions at the moment.” He nodded, putting his head back inside the window, hitting once again, but seemingly unperturbed. “Yes, that will do.” He left the intricately carved, wooden door open as he situated himself in the front quarter of the carriage. You felt on edge. You could feel his eyes on you, boring into the side of your face, studying you. Trying your best to remain unfazed by his attention, you focused on the road ahead of you, trying to block out the torrent of butterflies taking flight in your stomach.

Beautiful. He could see beauty in every breath or sigh of yours. Beauty in every single one of your features and mannerisms. Maybe it was because it had been a long time since he’d seen anyone besides Venia, especially a woman. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason behind his mind being so preoccupied by you. There was this incessant need in him to please you. Something deep within him that wanted your smiles to be for and because of him. But Hyunjin knew that his personality was lacking.

Having just one person to converse with over a decade would do that to a person. Oh, how he longed to be like the men in the books he read. To woo you and make you fall in love with him over his witty banter. But truthfully, he knew that would never be. He couldn’t even get a few sentences out without stumbling over his words or seeming like the daftest prince in the history of man.  

Hyunjin’s hand  glided across the paper with ease. You might have been the easiest subject he’d ever drawn in his lifetime of art. His only problem, or the only thing he felt might be a problem, was the fact that he might not be able to convey just how beautiful you were on paper or canvas. Quite literally the woman from his dreams, even visions of you didn’t do your real life beauty justice. But he wanted to try nonetheless,  if for nothing more than to pass the time. Hyunjin spent hours putting charcoal to the pad, stretching every complex and intriguing detail of your face, at least what he could see of it.

He knew not to ask you to turn towards him, nor did he even think to ask you to join him in the carriage, even knowing that Minho could handle himself at the reins. Hyunjin was constantly second guessing himself around you and he hadn’t the slightest idea as to why. He wanted to impress you, to have you glance at him with those beautiful eyes. He wanted you to acknowledge him as more than just the prince you were sent here to rescue. God, he hated that fact. Why was it that he needed someone to come and save him? He’d read plenty and there was never any instance where it was a princess sent to save a prince, it was supposed to be the other way around.

His fingers tightened around the stick of charcoal he was already holding tightly in his hand. His body became rigid, breath quickening. Oh, no. No. No, no, no. Why did this have to happen in a time like this? His dreams had been getting harder to handle. They were bad in Arcta, but since he’d been on the road, they had somehow gotten worse. He was starting to dream while he was awake. But these more recent dreams were far more intense than any daydream he’d ever had.

They were like waking nightmares. They consumed him, playing out vividly as if they were happening to him in real time. He let out a strained groan as the visions started to play out in front of his wildly wide eyes. Darkness. Lurking. Blood, lots of blood. Then your face appears before his eyes, fear etched across it. He reached out for you, but you disappeared into a cloud of thick black smoke. This was unlike any dream he’d had before. 

“Turn around, there’s danger ahead.” A disembodied voice sang the words to him. “Dread. Dread. Dread. Three bodies all dead. One…” Minho came into view, his knees were sunk into the muddy, blood soaked ground, a sword through his chest. A warrior's death.

“Two…” There you were once again, but this time there was no fear in your eyes, just an absence of everything. Your throat had been ripped from you and despite your impressive healing abilities, you couldn’t heal your wound. Your nails were ripped and bloodied from fighting off what he could only assume to be your attacker.

“Three…” He could hear himself screaming, his body was his own. He looked down, his clothes bloodied and torn, scratches across his skin. He was alive, no one around but him and the bodies of his new found friends. Had he done this? Was this his doing? Had he killed the only friends he had? Panic surged through his body. He had a splitting headache. His mind felt hazy as if he had no real thoughts of his own. It was like he was being held up by strings, being puppeteered. 

“Head towards the east, or your fate is sealed. Or death will be dealt upon a forested hill.” 

His eyes flew open, body jolting up. “Relax..” Your soothing voice coated his ears, calming him down immediately. He let out a few shaky breaths as his eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm yet ethereal halo-like glow around you. His anxiety calmed, he was safe in your arms. He knew that.

Though you were challenged to protect him, he knew deep down that there was more to this protective hold than he could even fathom. Was this another dream? One where he could finally live freely? One where he could love and be loved? Because there was no other explanation as to why he felt so at peace in your arms.

“Where- where are we?” 

You sighed, shifted under him. “We took a detour. Headed towards water. You felt feverish to the touch and your body convulsed and I…”  You paused. “You kept whispering go east. So we went East. Found this river and prayed to our gods that you would be okay.” He’d never seen you concerned For him and quite frankly, it was more than a little alarming.

He felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. Why was it always him that was damoiseau in distress? You plucked him from his tower and whisked him away just to save his life once again on the road to his freedom. His brows furrowed once again as you helped him sit up. He needed to become a man you could depend on, and it needed to happen fast.

You were trying your hardest not to close the window to the carriage. You didn’t like sitting for portraits, it made you anxious and antsy and that was the last thing you needed on this month-long trip to Volantis. Even in the family portrait hanging above the mantle in the dining hall, your face was one of pure irritation. This was no different. You tried your best to keep your features neutral, but you could tell by the way Minho kept glancing at you out the side of his eyes that you weren’t doing a great job at it.

There was something about hearing the little scratches on the paper as he sketched that was kind of comforting. Your body unknowingly relaxed as he immersed himself in drawing. But panic started to work its way into your system when he suddenly stopped. His carriage went silent, no sounds of sketching, no weird little grunts of disapproval or approval. You took a chance and glanced back, only to see his eyes rolled back into his head, body taught but shaking with tremors. “Stop!” You yelled at Minho as you nearly jumped from the drivers box.

He pulled the reins to halt the horses, yanking the carriage to a cessation. You climbed in the back, hoping that your rapidly beating heart was that of concern and not of fear. His mother said nothing of sickness. How was he to rule if he was cripled by infirmity? It was if someone or something was guiding your hands. You moved anything away from him that would cause injury, that included his sketchbook and pencils and turned him on his side. 

“East… east… east….” His words were barely above a whisper, but you were someone able to decipher them. His inky locks clung to his forehead as his skin started to perspire. He was clammy to the touch, skin cold and damp.

Tears threatened to brim your eyes. Hyunjin was the only hope of your kingdom being released from the clutches of his tyrant father. You needed him more than anyone if you and the people around you were to see your way through this. A lump grew in your throat at the idea of what would happen to you and your family if the prince died in your care. Even with the king exiling him, he still wouldn’t take kindly to someone removing him from captivity just to have him die on their watch. A lump started to form in your throat at the mere thought.

“East… east.. Death is forward…”

His words were alarming. But you took them seriously. Given the fact that his mother was powerful enough to be the keeper between realms, this.. Dream or nightmare he was having had to have some validity to it. “Head towards the east, find a body of water, Min.” He nodded and pushed the horses towards the direction you’d dictated. All you could do now was pray that Hyunjin came to.

Minho had found a place near a riverbed to set up camp for the night. He was making it known that he didn’t like the detour and hated that this would add time to your already long trip to Volantis. He helped you carry the prince near the water so you could cool him down, in hopes it would help his fever break.

You tore the cloth of one of the shirts you’d recently acquired and damped it, pressing it to his forehead. He was still mumbling nonsensical things. But know just what he and his mother were, you didn’t discard his warnings. You knew all too well that with him being from a similar tribe to your mother, that ever bit of what he was foretelling would absolutely come true if you didn’t heed the warnings. 

It took an hour for his fever to break, and even longer for him to come to. The worry had started to become a permanent resident in your chest while you waited. The sigh you released felt like years worth of tension leaving your body, even if it had only been a few hours.  He jolted awake in your arms, his head resting in your lap. “Relax…” You soothingly pat his chest, trying to calm him down. You carefully explain what transpired over the last few hours.

Camp had been set up and food was being cooked as you spoke. The rest of the night went by in a flash, the lot of you agreeing that an even earlier start would have to do to make up the time you’d lost today. Each of you were determined to put in even more work in the next few days to shave off a little bit of time on this journey. Hoping that this trip went smoother than the trip to the isle of Arcta, but you all knew that was probably far fetched, but you'd still hold out hope.

© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like , comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.♥』

[marrrrss]

Lost and Found: Crossed Path, ch.1

Hank Voight x Reader, +basically all CPD and extra characters

Summary: 3 kids missing. Familys desperate. Full on chaos on District 21 and on the streets. Inteligence on the lead of it. But everything changes when a little boy is found on a park.

chapter 2

chapter 3

Word count: 1.2K

TW: none?

Author's note: first chapter of this series, hope you like it!

>>>English is not my first language<<<

The evening had descended, the sun setting below the horizon, elongating shadows in the streets of Chicago. It was ordinary, even quiet, for a moment. Then the first call came in.

5:14 PM

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"I can't find my children!" Rose miller's voice was a panic, the words spilling out in a rush. "I'd left them with the nanny this morning, and now I came home, and no one's here!"

"Ma'am, have you tried calling the nanny's phone? What is the nanny's name?" The dispatcher's voice was even, trying to keep things down to earth.

"Yes, I have! Her phone is off! H-her name is Katie. Katie Baxter," Rose Miller responded, trembling as she looked around the quiet apartment. Her eyes swept the room, wishing to see her children.

"Okay, ma'am, I'm sending officers to your location right away. Try to stay on the line, and I'll update you on what's going on. What are your children's names?"

" Anna and Alex, they're 3 years old"

The dispatcher immediately relayed the information to the respective patrol units, and the wheels of investigation began to turn.

5:41 PM

Meanwhile, in the suburbs, another hysterical voice yelled through the 9-1-1 system.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"I can't find my daughter!" Daniel Jones' voice echoed over the phone. "I left her with the nanny this morning, and now she's not answering her phone, and she's gone! Please! Please help!"

"Sir, what is your daughter's name? What is the nanny's name?" The dispatcher repeated the questions.

"My daughter's name is Victoria, she's 3. And the nanny-his nanny-her name is Katie Baxter!"

"I'm sending units to your location, sir. Stay calm, and we'll take care of you."

The dispatcher quickly radioed to officers in the area, aware of the growing alarm.

Katie Baxter wasn't just missing; so were the children she was entrusted to care for.

Miller Residence – 6:12 PM

Kim Burgess and Adam Ruzek arrived at the Miller house just as the sky turned dusky. Rose was pacing in the front yard, phone clutched tightly in her hands. She looked up as they stepped out of their car, her eyes pleading for something—anything.

"You’re the detectives?" she asked breathlessly.

"Detectives Burgess and Ruzek," Kim verified, flashing her badge. "Where's your husband?"

"He's coming."

"Let's do what you told 9-1-1 first," Adam suggested as they walked towards the house.

Rose tried to go through it all again, voice shaking.

"They were home this morning. Katie was with them all day. I called at two just to catch up, and she didn't answer. I figured she was busy. Then at four, I called. Then five. I panicked. I called my husband, but I—I don't know what happened."

"Was anything missing?" Kim asked.

"Their jackets and shoes, that's it. No bag. No clothes. It's like she just… went."

Adam caught Kim's eye. This had none of the earmarks of a random kidnapping.

A car pulled into the driveway. John Miller got out, his face a tight mask of fear. "What's going on? Where are my kids?"

Rose turned to him. "I don't know, John."

"Mr. Miller," Adam said warily, "your wife just gave us a timeline. We need to corroborate some information—"

"Do you think we did something wrong?" John snapped.

Kim held up a hand. "We're trying to find your kids."

The tension eased, at least somewhat, and the interview continued. As they were walking out of the house, toward their car, Adam muttered, "This is a nightmare."

Kim nodded, distracted, then suddenly exhaled a humorless laugh.

"What?" Adam said.

Kim hesitated before shaking her head. "It's just—this whole thing… Have you ever considered something like this happening to us?"

Adam didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned to her, his expression serious. "Don't joke."

Kim met his gaze. "I'm not."

Adam let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "We'll re-check Mak's nanny again. Just in case."

They both knew it wasn't much of a joke.

Jones Residence – 6:35 PM

Hailey Upton and Kevin Atwater stepped out of their car to see Daniel and Emily Jones standing in the doorway of their expansive estate. Emily's hands shook, her eyes red-rimmed from weeping.

Kevin spoke first. "Mr. and Mrs. Jones?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah. Please—please come in."

Everything inside was pristine, expensive. Yet the suffocating sense of loss stifled the room.

Emily gestured to the couch. "She was just… here." Her voice cracked. "Victoria was just here."

Hailey took out her notebook. "Tell us about Katie."

Emily swallowed. "She came highly recommended. Good with kids. Polite. Sweet. But now, in retrospect—I don't know. She was private. Too private."

That was new.

"Did you know Katie was working for other families?" Kevin asked.

Daniel shook his head. "What? No."

Hailey and Kevin exchanged a glance. This was no longer a missing nanny case.

Back at the 21st District – 7:15 PM

Pandemonium in the bullpen. Intelligence in high gear, chasing down leads. Amber alerts already out on the children. Trudy Platt downstairs juggling the patrol officers and keeping everything above water surface.

"Alright," Voight gruffly spoke, at the center of it all. "What do we know?"

"She doesn't have an Illinois ID," Hailey said.

"No apartment in her name," Adam added.

"No relatives here," Kevin said.

"Her face or name is not in our system" Kim added

Dante Torres added, "Checked her car plates, they're fake. The plate the Jones and Miller's gave us are different. Bet she had a plate for each family."

Silence. Then Voight exhaled sharply. "Find her. Call your CI's, anyone who can help. CCTV around 10 blocks of the kids houses and the places the parents said they went to, parks, stores everywhere. Ran the parents connections and past, any enimies, anything. We have 3 kids missing, I want them back home. Fast."

The squad broke up, following every lead they had.

The morning after

The city was still waking up when a patrol car saw him.

A small boy, alone on a park bench.

A little boy, around 3-4 years old.

Tear-stained face. Clutching a small stuffed bear.

There he was—alone, cold, and scared.

The patrol officers exchanged a glance before approaching slowly.

"Hello, buddy," one of them said gently, kneeling before the child. "Lost?"

The boy didn't answer right away. He hugged his teddy bear tighter, his big brown eyes searching the vicinity as if looking for something—or someone.

"Whats your name buddy" Officer Ramirez asked the little boy , kneeling down.

"Lucas" Lucas said in a voice above a whisper.

"Where's your mommy and daddy?" the other officer asked.

Lucas snuffled. "Katie said I had to wait."

The officers stiffened. Katie.

That was all they needed to hear.

The bullpen was chaos. No one had slept. Inteligence was still loking at every cctv camera that could give anything about Katie and the kids.

The doors swung open.

"Hey, Sarge?" Ramirez came in, Greene alongside him. Between them, a little boy stood, small fingers clasped around Ramirez's hand. "We got a situation."

"What?" Trudy said looking up from her paperwork.

"His name is Lucas. Found him in a park bench" Ramirez answered.

"Go up" Trudy said opening the gate to inteligence.

As soon as they got to the top of the stairs to inteligence everyone turned to them.

"Who's the kid?" Voight stepped forward.

"Found him alone in a park," Ramirez said. "Name's Lucas. But here's the thing, Sarge—there was no missing kid named Lucas on any report last night."

Kim, who had been reviewing security footage, straightened immediately. "Wait—Lucas?" She stepped forward, kneeling to peer into the boy's eyes. "Whats your last name buddy?"

Lucas didn't answer

Kim's eyes up at inteligence "Do we have any Lucas missing?"

Dante already on computer searching trought the amber alerts "No lucas on the system"

Voight just looked in silence to the litlle boy before turning to his team. "Look nation wide. Maybe from other state or his family hasnt given him as missing."

Silence fell over the room as the implication of that set in.

One missing child found. Nothing about him on this case,

Three still gone.

And there was no trace of Katie Baxter.

(To be continued...)

[positron2399]

More Whispers in the Stars concept art:

Just concept art of two characters of a "hard sci-fi" super hero comic I hope to write one day. The first two are of the second "super" we'll see in the series, her people are "tiny" parasitoid arthropod analogs, with females only being around 9 cm excluding the stinger, and males being slightly smaller at 8 cm. The bug girl eventually signs up for her nation's space force (for reference, her "homeworld" is an O'Neill Cylinder), becoming one of the specialized warships of her people thanks to the total consciousness transfer technology of her people (as opposed to the copy-paste system of Soma and Invincible)... Copy-pasting a "soul" is possible. As for the warship she became, it uses fusion propulsion and is armed to the teeth with lasers and auto-cannons, her front outright having an x-ray cannon capable of outright disintegrating any ship unfortunate enough to stumble in front of her.

Very clearly inspired by Asuka and her mech... I'll eventually get around to watching Evangelion, so plz don't spoil. Also, while I haven't been playing it, I do love the designs of the ships from "Children of a Dead Earth."

... I dread the eventual meeting between "Mars" and these people of The Killing Stars, their launch was practically ancient history thanks to the ~natural~ lifespan of her people (only 20-25 earth years)

The next is President Reidmen of the alternate US the story takes place in, he's more or less a stand-in combination of Mitt Romney, Regan, the Bushes, and a few tiny hints of Trump for added "good" measure. Unlike most stories, I'm trying to make him seem "not" evil despite the fact that he's absolutely creampieing the economy and quadrupling down on bombing the fuck out of Afghanistan, Iraq, and Palestine... Unfortunately for him and his shareholding buddies, the Superman (Delroy/The StarKnight) stand-in of the story refuses to let the US and Israel continue to "Manifest Destiny" and sending children to die "fighting tewwism" like he, his friends, and his brother did in Vietnam. The monstrous form isn't something he turns into, but how the StarKnight slowly begins viewing him as the "early" story goes on... also he's just really afraid of Dinosaurs, to the point where he couldn't watch Jurassic Park till he had his nuke-proof flying neutron-star body (he still had the lights on).

The thing about Riedmen is that he doesn't just sit around plotting to further bomb the Middle East, he has hobbies, he has fear, he has a corn farm and a family. He, much like Del, loves model train sets, and thanks to his wealth, it's far more impressive than our main protags, he has four shelter mutts and heavily advocates for the humane treatment of these animals, not because it'll make him look good, but because he actually cares, yet in the same breath will glorify any and all drone strikes Delroy failed to stop for it was "Al-Qaeda/Isis hiding in the Schools/Mosques/Hospitals." He also helps with the legalization of gay marriage in this world's US.

It was simply too funny to not have a Republican President with the last name "Reidmen." I also tried giving him a face that's either kind-looking or somewhat creepy for he is a very clear criticism of how Obama drone struck the hell out of so many children and how it was sold to children like me as a good thing, the American news at the time portrayed those mechanical abominations as some sort of "Super Hero" or "Angel." He has a mustache simply as it's been a very long time since a president had one and I thought it'd make him a bit more unique. The OFF/Paranoia Agent influence is real

@k1-2-ur-heart @toxetta @piko-chan @cyannidex33 @bladeechan @internetsinner

If you find them, the older posts aren't really cannon in terms of design, but are cannon in personality. The story itself would be paneled in a right-to-left flow specifically after Mob Psycho and the Pokemon Adventures manga, though I'd attempt to give it a more "Watchmen" feeling for the backgrounds and such.

!DESIGNS ARE NOT FINAL AND STORY MAY NEVER COME!

[skynight110]

Child Of The Monsters

A monsterverse fic:

You can't remember when it all began. When something changed. Or maybe you could, if you thought deep enough on it. All you knew now though, was that you were alone. Because of them. Because of Him. If only you weren't so young when this all began, perhaps you could have prevented everything; the death of your parents, being one. Being forced to give up your childhood "for the sake of humanity" being another. But alas, nothing could change what has happened, and all you could do now was try and escape this hell that's been built around you, and pray to whatever deity is out there to grace you with luck. Because if they find out, if He finds out.....

The sake of the world, the sake of your life, the sake of every little good thing you've managed to keep, will be at stake.

•••

Hello, hello. I've decided to post my story here on Tumblr just...because lol. You can find it both on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/55869871

Or wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/366621677?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_reading&wp_page=reading&wp_uname=KnockoutRules

Updates will most likely be posted on these two first, and I'll post when I remember to on here. However, to be up to date I'd suggest reading on either of those platforms.

Like on both of those, here is important information that I insist you glance over before reading:

This story is definitely inspired by Screaming into the Voids "Y/n, Child of the Monsters///Platonic!Yandere!Godzilla/Titans x Child/Teen!Reader" on Quotev, I suggest going and checking it out, however it is incomplete and I'm unsure if the writer is still interested in finishing it. With that out of the way, this will be a "yandere" type story, and will have normal Godzilla movie themes in it such as

- death

- canon-typical violence(cmon, it's godzilla, he's going to end up ripping something in half)

- spoilers for the movies(except gxk, I haven't seen it yet)

and themes I've added in. There will be

- "talking" kaiju, however they don't physically speak to humans, rather its an insight into their thoughts/feelings

- mentions/forms of telepathy

I personally headcanon that mothra can "tap" into others, and while she can't speak fluent, she can send emotions or brief thoughts to others that aren't close to her. Godzilla can do similar things, but it takes more focus for him, and it works better through touch. But it doesn't happen very often.

- some forms of experimentation, both on humans and kaiju

I want to make it clear that there is no romance in this, it's purely platonic.

I've tried to align readers age with how the movies are set in time, so here's a quick guide if any of you get confused:

Reader is born in 2009, they are 5 during the events of 2014.

By the events of Kotm, reader is 10.

Gvk, reader is 12, and this is mostly where the story will take place, and continue onwards.

In GxK, reader is 15.

I also won't be adding in much from the comics because I haven't read them, but there's a chance I'll add in some small things that I've managed to find out.

As for plot family wise, as stated your parents don't appear for too long. They ded. But you will have other family members! For my own sake to make it easier for me I'm gonna make reader related to the Russels; Mark being your uncle and Madison being your cousin, simply because of plot wise it makes it easier for me to use them.

If there are any questions, feel free to comment them, I'll do my best to answer them to best of my ability.

ALSO

Fair warning now, even though I like writing, I lose motivation VERY fast. So if I fall of the face of the earth for a bit, don't be surprised. I have stuff to do in my life too, seeing as I'll be graduating next year and need to get my stuff together. If you're worried that I'll be discontinuing this story, just ask in the comments, I promise I'll answer, later or right away. I'm the kind of writer that will have random spouts of motivation in the middle of the night when I'm tired, or in the middle of the day when I'm busy.

But, I will try my best to commit to this, because I really want to write this to give both myself and everyone who finds this a story with the Big G, because there are so few out there.

[onnahu]

Okay so I can't stop coming back to the idea of mdzs httyd au, so here's what i figured out.

It's the part 1 of deep dive into it.

It's long, I'm warning you.

The sects have their own islands, so Jiangs have the island of Yunmeng (the most to the south, i'm very set about that one), Wen's have Qishan (They're the east. Because the sun. And Japan. Like. It's not for now.)

Actually maybe I'll make up a map. If I could do Gotham I can do a chinese vikings fighting dragons map. But that's for later.

Cultivation is a thing in more of a vague term for warrior that got a bit better reflexes. So they meditade and know their herbs, but don't have magic swords and taliamans. Their strikes have a bit more of strenght in them and they're a bit faster than normal, but nothing really super special.

The chinese dragons are all the super powerful dragons. So, the Red Death from the first movie has it's chinese dragon counterpart in my au, and that's a dragon that lost the heaven's blessing and with itself turned all the dragons around it into resentful beasts. That way dragons that could normally be peaceful, under the influence of a fallen dragon become kinda hazy. Like in the movie but different.

The big dragons from second movie will also be in a form of typical chinese dragon, and once again, the one that Drago control's is fallen from heaven's liking, but by a hand of human that destroyed it's godlyhood. The good one is a divine creature that takes care of other dragons and also the snow and storms, bringing them like heavens want it to.

So, all the dragons that the sects fight are under the undivined dragon's control, and the conflict goes on for ages already.

The sect conferences work as talks about trades, strategies against dragons, hunts for fun, but also initiations for young warriors.

The iniciation happens at 17 and then they kill their first dragon or die trying.

At the age 15 it is a tradition to send the warrior students to Gusu, an island north that is the furthest from the dragon's nest, and where the teenagers spent a few months training to bring honor to their sects during the iniciation.

I'd imagine the training in Gusu happens in winter, when the attacs from dragons are more sporadic, and the sects can let a ship go with people who normally give first aid, kill fires, transport messages and weapons.

So, young Wei Wuxian, the boy that is expected to be one of the gratest dragons slayers in Yunmeng, with his brother Jiang Cheng and few other disciples of their age are sent to partake in Gusu training.

There, Wei Wuxian meets Lan Wangji. It goes as close to canon as I can make it in this world. Lans still have their rules, although now they're more about killing dragons than kindness and things like that. Lacohol is still forbidden, and WWX still tries to get some. They fight, and find out they're equals, WWX takes on a mission of annoying LWJ to death and LWJ gets in his head he have to spoil every of WWX's mischief before they even take place.

When they practice identifying dragons and the best ways to kill them, WWX asked by LQR says something along the lines of 'wouldn't it be easier to just take control over it? Tame it like a wild animal and bring it to our side?'. LQR hates it, as could be expected.

Things go on, WWX promises JC that he would never try to tame a dragon, bc 1 it's suuuper dangerous and stupid and 2 they are enemies and dragons are all the evil in the world.

Then WWX punches JZX, the engagement is broken off, WWX leaves earlier.

LWJ composes WangXian when he's gone.

Next year, they're 16. A year more to the initiation.

The conference is hosted by Wens on the Qishan island. The initiation is happening, but WWX get's bored as soon as everyone he knows is done, so he wanders off.

He meets Wen Ning practising with a bow. He helps him, they talk, WWX has to go back. It doesn't mean that much for him, but Wen Ning will remember that - after all not many are kind to him.

LWJ and WWX briefly interact, but everyone goes home.

Not a month later, Gusu is attacked and burns, and Wens send a word to send all the clan heirs and at least two appreantices to Qishan for 'a study in a Wen way of slaying dragons'.

The indoctrination happens, and the role of Xuanwu of Slaughter takes a legendary sleeping dragon (again, a chinese dragon that's undivine). Wen Chao tries ti kill it, obviously fails, tries to take hostages, fails, WWX takes on things in his own hands, shit happens.

WWX and LWJ somehow kill the sleeping dragon, and are saved by Jiang Cheng.

Jiangs don't take actions, as per canon, and are attacked. Let's say it's early spring, and Wen's attack Yunmeng. Wen Ning saves JC, JYL and WWX, smuggles them to Yiling, an island that is on one side a quite prosperous village, and on the other a dragon hell. Wild dragons plague the island. Wen Qing helps treat their wounds.

JC saves WWX when they're spotted by unfriendly Wen soliders, and when WWX goes save JC in turn, he get's captured.

JC is free and menages to come back to Wen Qing and Wen Ning, but when they try to find WWX, there's no sign of him ever getting even captured.

JC goes to Qinghe and joins the war efforts, still looking for WWX. LWJ joins him. JYL either goes with him to be a medic or to Jins to persuade them to join the war.

WWX was, presumably, thrown into the Burial Mounds, a place that when you once entered you are ment to be eaten by dragons. He somehow befriends one dragon there, kills some that are not friendly, befriends some more. When he gets put it's on a dragon's back with revenge with mind.

JC, WWX and LWJ reunite when WWX kills Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu with his 'demonic power' of controling dragons. LWJ tries to tell WWX that dragons are dangerous and it is known that some of them can control mind.

The war goes on, WWX changes the ties of it, they win.

The gossip about WWX and his insanity grows, WWX finds out about mistreatment of Dafan Wens, takes them to the Burial Mounds. Sects turn on him, and Wen remnants befriend the dragons.

For some time they're happy. Wen Ning is alive btw, and get's himself a bff dragon, Ghost General.

LWJ visits and tries to understand, and maybe finally starts to get the appeal of dragons, but he's not courageous enought to act.

Shit happens, JZX is killed by Suibian (WWX's bff dragon). It happens bc Jin's get control over a fallen dragon that controls Suibian. They're the Drago here.

The rest goes like canon. WQ and WN with their dragons are killed (or are they?), JYL dies, the siege happens, WWX expects death but is against his will saved by Suibian. He thinks Wen Yuan is dead. He's wrong. Suibian takes him far away, where WWX creates an asylum for dragons. He befriends a Chinese Dragon, the divine creature.

13 years later, unknown to WWX, Lan Sizhui finds a hurt dragon.

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

A Personal Post

Hi guys, I'm finally making the post I kept telling myself and my best friends I'd make but wanted to put it off until I felt better. That hasn't happened and with how things are going I thought it was best to just post it now.

So for a while, since probably late 2023, I've felt less like my blog is for me, and more like it's some kind of fandom archive. Which, if you use it this way as-is, great! I'm glad my blog could make you happy like that! But that's not what I set out for it to be.

I'm the sort of neurodivergent person who likes to categorize things, including my interests. All my tumblr blogs are specific to one thing, and this one was no exception.

I began tagging things soon after I made the blog because I saw a lot of people were sad about the twins, and I thought "well since I love both sad and happy stuff, and I'm really good about categorizing things, maybe I can try and help!" And according to many, it did help!

But I think that also gave off the impression that I was making this blog for other folks, and that isn't the case. I'm sorry I never clarified. It's not an archive; I do not reblog shipping posts, posts from people I've blocked, AUs I don't click with, and sometimes just not everything I see.

I've gotten popular in the fandom, and for the most part I do, from the bottom of my heart, enjoy it. I have people who care about my hyperfixation! That's amazing! I have people who love my cosplay and want to meet up with me. I've made so many friends of all shapes and sizes and it's probably the most incredible thing I've ever experienced, truth be told.

But yeah my blog being mine has gotten away from me a bit, I think.

I want to keep tagging my submas tags, that isn't going to change. I will tag triggers when asked, unless it's kind of impossible due to the blog's subject (trains, for instance) or a name or really common word (like the word 'head' or something). Other than that please reach out and I'll do my best to remember. But other tags? Those will be up to me. I don't want to tag when OCs show up. I love OCs and like seeing them, and don't want to have to remember that one person who visits my blog doesn't.

I had anon off for a while because honestly ever since making this blog, there have been anons who really made me unhappy. (Also yes, non-anons but that's been fewer and far between). I've gotten misinformation, accusations, horrible and disgusting explicit asks, and criticisms and complaints, and I'm just... Not here for that. Keep the explicit things and misinfo out of my inbox, I am no arbiter of morality or personal decisions, and I am not here for you to share your negative opinions of submas or the fandom.

Anon is on for people who are too self conscious to chat face to face, for people to send fun headcanon ideas (remember when people did that back in 2022 when this blog started? I miss that, it was sweet and wholesome), to share song recommendations... That kind of stuff. If you have an actual problem, please, PLEASE talk to me off anon, whether that be DMs or a non-anon ask that I can answer privately. Especially if we're friends; please, please just talk to me about stuff. I don't bite! I swear!

But yeah the bottom line is I'm here to participate in fun (and sometimes heartbreaking!) fandom stuff. I'm here for FUN, not as my job. I know that we're all a bunch of neurodivergent folks and sometimes interactions can be a swing and a miss, but please try to be mindful. Please treat me like a person and not just like a museum curator for this blog.

Truth is, I haven't been okay for a while now. It's gotten worse this year for sure, and due to life stuff I cannot see things feeling better for me for some time. I need to go day by day for a lot of things, and I am trying to get better about needing to set boundaries and all that sort of thing. I suffer from intense paranoia too, and having so many eyes on me is genuinely terrifying at times. I'm trying to manage that as best I can, but I do ask that folks be kind.

NO I am not going anywhere, my blog is staying and will continue on as normal, but I really, really needed to get this posted.

Please continue to interact with me and chat and everything like that! But also please remember to treat this space, my blog, as my space. Thanks for reading!

[moonshine-nightlight]

2025 Writing Plans

With this being the third such yearly plan post, i think its officially a tradition lol. my standard disclaimer is this is my high level plan right now, subject to change and likely overly optimistic, but still worthwhile to make and try to layout. posting about writing plans gets me excited for the new year.

here's what i'm thinking:

Nothing's Wrong With Dale: Borrowing some of my plan from last year, i need to finish my own edit of Dale, hire an editor, commission cover art, and then self-publish. I'd love to get all that done in time for december publishing, but given how long everything was taking last year, i'd settle for just pushing it over to editors by the end of the year.

Short Stories: I want to finish off Courtship Confusion and Free Piano: Haunted this year, along with at least one other new story, but i am not trying to predict what that might be lol. maybe one that's been on my shelf for a while,maybe the one i started a couple days ago, maybe a new idea I havn't even had yet, like Voluntary Sacrifice. Nothing's gonna get posted until May at the earliest.

Novella(s): I'd like to kick off work self-publishing two other Novellas: a combo naga novella (Finally Woken and Selfish) and Sacrifice. No idea how far I can get between my edits and revisions, scrounging up the money to pay for editor/publishing/cover art, and pulling together some sort of timeline for all that, but I want to get it all going so i have more self-published work out there (it'd b really cool to go to a con or something in 2026 and have a set of books to promo and not just 2 lol - not to get too ahead of myself).

Series: I want to make Sacrifice the first novella in a 6 book series, each focusing on a different deity returning to the temple with the final book about all of them coming together against a common enemy, likely focusing back on the MC from Sacrifice. I have some note sand outlines for the different stories (although they all need better titles). Currently, I was considering them being a published exclusive, but I might still post abridged version on here, especially as I work through my ideas. So for 2025, in addition to getting Sacrifice further on it's own publish journey, i want to complete all the outlines and notes, solidify the characters, etc - everything i need to start writing these stories.

Longer stories: I still want to work on planning them out and making a decision on one to start posting next, like with Dale, but I don't think that actually posting anything longer like that will happen in 2025 (see everything else i want to do above lol). Still, getting organized is important and i'm looking forward to fleshing them all out and knowing which one i'll be diving into next.

So lots of stuff i want to get into and multiple things I want to try to finish off lol Definitely overly ambitious, but its getting me excited to get to writing.

As always, my day job is extremely busy January - April and this year is no exception so new stories until that time passes.

Feel free to send in any asks about upcoming/current stories! I'm looking forward to all the exciting writing and publishing to come in 2025!

[siena-sevenwits]

January 2025 Reads

The list will be modest, as I am coming out of a slump, but I used to have fun doing this, so I'll put my pride aside and enjoy it.

Complete: The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett (1911, children's classic) As I have already remarked, I think I loved it more in adulthood than I ever did in childhood. I noticed so much more this time through. One thing that stood out to me was how Mary and Colin both were changed by meeting a hope-filled person who told them of joys they had never experienced. Even more Mary discovers the Garden, hearing stories of the family life of the Sowerbys changes her. Hearing of Dickon out on the moors with his animals changes her. And of course the simple idea of a mysterious locked Garden changes her. It's the same for Colin - he falls in love with all these things before he can ever experience them. There's something about the generosity of sharing that kind of joy even just by the spoken word - something very good news-y about it. I remember as a child I didn't much care about Mrs. Sowerby sending them food, and advising Mr. Craven, and eventually coming into the Garden and being part of the secret - but not I see why it feels like a necessary culmination. It's all very, very Spring, and that was good for me this time of year (Spring does not usually come till May here, and it's hard sometimes.) I might have to revisit my childhood adaptation, the 1980's Hallmark one, if only to laugh at how Gothic they try to make it. (That scary thunderstorm scene with the creepy statues while Colin wails! Oh, and random Colin Firth before he was famous at the end, for some reason.)

Complete: The Shadow of the Bear by Regina Doman (1997, Catholic YA Fairy Tale Retelling) Technically I was reading my first printing copy, the one where the publishers got mixed up and gave it the wrong title of Snow White and Rose Red: A Modern Fairy Tale, which was just meant as a note at the beginning of the manuscript. This was another revisit of a favourite - as a twelve-year-old, I read this so many times, before Black as Night was published. I can see the writing flaws much more clearly now, but also all the ways she succeeds at the story she'd trying to tell. The story meant a lot to me, and I think it had a big effect on me going into my teen years. Revisiting was good fun.

Complete: Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (1601, classic theatrical comedy) This feels like a cheat to include, but. What can I say? My favourite of Shakespeare's comedies.

In progress: Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson (2024, epic fantasy) Getting close to halfway through. I'm here for my beloved characters and getting an ending to the five books. It's great to be spending time with Kaladin and Shallan and Adolin and Dalinar again, and seeing payoffs for this set up earlier in the series. It has some passages I'm not a fan of, (and some scenes I thought were just plain silly. Kaladin's kata/dance scene could maybe have been fine, but once he started saying affirmations? *Eyeroll*) but I've found a way to navigate the content considerations so far, and eh, I can put up with a little cringe. And who would have thought I'd be so happy every time the scene switches to Azimir? :-) I enjoy doing all the voices and sharing the experience with Juan Diego. I'm hoping for a satisfying avalanche, and for Brandon Sanderson to keep his promises well.

In progress: How Rory Thorne Destroyed the Multiverse by K. Eason (2019, YA space opera fairy-tale inspired) Also close to halfway through. I enjoy the blend of some fairy-tale conventions with the interplanetary setting. There's a fun sense of humour and sharp imagination at work here. I love the dynamic of Rory's tiny household, which consists of just her, her vizier/tutor, and her tiny band of female guards. But I'm slightly annoyed at the arranged marriage aspect of the book, because the direction I thought the author was taking it excites me more than the direction it's probably going. That's not the book's fault, though. I should probably just outline an arranged marriage story that I'll never get round to writing and get it out of my system so I can enjoy this one wholeheartedly.

In progress: The Dawn of the Messiah by Edward Sri (2005, Scriptural theology) Not that far in yet. First fifty pages are good.

In progress: The Red Palace by June Hur (2022, YA historical mystery/romance) Whoops, forgot I was reading this and enjoy it! It's because I took my night reading lamp to another part of the house and forgot to bring it back for my bedtime book...

In progress: The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street by Helene Hanff (1973, travel memoir.) I am delayed because my dad took it to read it after he finished 84 Charing Cross Road.

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage January 2024 Issue Kamen Rider THE WINTER MOVIE: Gotchard & Geats Gotchard Main Cast Interviews (translations below)

Publication: December 8, 2023

Clear it! The strongest Chemy catching game!!

In order to seal the 101 Chemies released into this world onto cards, Houtarou Ichinose (Kamen Rider Gotchard) searches for Chemies every day with his friends from the Alchemy Academy. One day, he meets Ace Ukiyo (Kamen Rider Geats) fighting against some Jyamato monsters. Behind the scenes is Chemy X Wizard, a level number 10 supreme wizard.

Kamen Rider's Winter film will be released again this year, featuring a dream collaboration of Kamen Riders from different series. The main highlight includes Houtarou and other Gotchard members, and Ace and other Geats members being divided into teams to take on the ultimate Chemy catching game. It's the unique charm of this work that features the familiar search for Chemies from Gotchard, and the characteristics of Geats, where Kamen Riders do challenging games, which have been "combined!" The dialogue between the characters of Gotchard and Geats that you can't normally see on TV is a must see!

The presence of Geats Chemy, who looks exactly like Kamen Rider Geats, is also a point of interest. Centering around X Wizard and Geats Chemy, the drama between humans and Chemies, which is the real appeal of Gotchard, is depicted on a scale that only a film can provide. What will the encounter with the new Chemy and Ace and his group bring to Houtarou and his friends?

Junsei Motojima (Houtarou) x Reiyo Matsumoto (Rinne) Fujibayashi Yasunari (Spanner) x Abe Oto (Renge) Rikiya Tomizono (Sabimaru) x Kumaki Rikuto (Minato)

"Double" the expected chemistry!

-Is Spanner, a mood maker, the complete opposite of the person playing the role?-

"The first quarter has passed since the broadcast started, what has the response been?"

Motojima: I feel that the number of messages of support have gradually increased. At talk events, there were those who would say to me, "I'm cheering for you," and those who brought support fans (uchiwa), and I think I'm starting to actually realize it myself. It makes me incredibly happy.

Matsumoto: I have the feeling that I'm gradually getting used to being on set. I'm now trying to expand my range of acting by taking on new challenges every day, and reviewing my own performance to see how I can improve it.

Fujibayashi: As the story progresses, there'll be more scenes that delve deeper into each character's individuality. My desire to see the stories we've filmed, including this film, as soon as possible has become stronger since the broadcast started.

Abe: Up until now, I haven't appeared regularly in dramas, so I was really happy, and when I heard a kid next to me on the train talking about Gotchard, I thought, "What a great response!"

Fujibayashi: Did they realize that you were Renge?

Abe: I don't think they noticed (laughs). I'll do my best to get them to notice!

Tomizono: At first, when I played the role I thought, "Who is Sabimaru…" But, as he interacts with Houtarou and the others, I gradually felt that I was building up my own image of Sabimaru's character. I'd like to carefully build up Sabimaru's growth in the future, and I want to do my best to make tablets more popular (laughs).

Kumaki: It seems that there are events at kindergartens and other places where they hand out Gotchard cards, and my friends send me pictures of their children receiving the cards. When I see this, I realize that I'm creating these children's dreams, and that joy is my driving force.

"For the photo shoot, we got the impression that Fujibayashi-san was at the center, and that everyone else had a relaxed mood, but is Fujibayashi-san also "in charge" of things on set?"

Fujibayashi: No, I don't think that's the case.

Tomizono: He's got so much energy, and I feel like he raises everyone's spirits.

Abe: That's for sure!

Motojima: Even when we greet each other at 5 a.m., I can't believe how energetic he is.

Kumaki: It's so early in the morning that everyone else isn't fully awake yet.

Fujibayashi: Lately, I've been paying attention to everyone's mood and greeting them in a calmer manner.

Everyone: (laughs).

Kumaki: You've become an adult, huh?

Fujibayashi: I've become an adult (laughs).

Motojima: But, when we're filming early in the morning, having Yasu-kun (Fujibayashi) around makes me feel more energetic.

-Appearing together with Geats, filming was peaceful from start to finish-

"In this work, Houtarou and his friends split into teams together with the members of Kamen Rider Geats to take on the ultimate Chemy catching game."

Motojima: It's interesting that we're teamed up with those who have similar personalities. Houtarou and Tycoon, Rinne and Geats, Spanner and Buffa. I think that because of our similarities, we can relate to each other, and there's some good "chemical reactions."

Matsumoto: I've been working with Kan Hideyoshi-san for a long time, and I was trying to take in things from Kan-san's acting that I could apply to Rinne. Also, Houtarou falling into a trap so fast was so funny, that I laughed during the test takes (laugh).

Motojima: When I read the script, I thought to myself, "That's just like Houtarou….." (laughs). I thought it was charming because he has a childlike quality that's different from the Houtarou in the TV show.

Abe: When we were filming, I remember that it was very windy (laughs).

Tomizono: The sandy beach scene of our capture game was the first scene filmed of the movie. The wind was strong and it was raining quite abit. Furthermore, Na-Go Chemy gets covered in seaweed (laughs).

Abe: That's right (laughs). I feel like alot of the scenes with Na-Go Chemy were filmed with lots of imagination.

Tomizono: There was also something about jet planes. It was fun to film.

Abe: We were the imagination team (laughs).

Fujibayashi: In that sense, Buffa Chemy and I were both part of the imagination solo team.

Tomizono: I guess so (laughs).

Fujibayashi: Both Spanner and Buffa's theme color is purple, and they also have slightly stuck up personalities, so when the film was announced, there were many people on SNS who were looking forward to us appearing together. The interactions between the two of them are very interesting, so I hope you'll look forward to it.

"In a scene with Kugimiya Licht, Minato was depicted in his teacher's attaire."

Kumaki: I remember well the first time I greeted Motomiya Yasukaze-san, who plays Licht. Despite him being about 4-5 meters away (13-16 ft), I felt an overwhelming aura that made me feel like he was right in front of me.

Everyone: (laughs)

Kumaki: I was alittle nervous (laughs), but once I gathered up my courage and greeted him, he was very kind to me. I felt a sense of security all at once, and performed with the intention of receiving advice from my senior.

"What's your most memorable experience working with the Geats team?"

Abe: There was a part where I could feel the experience of working on a project for a year. In a scene where a drone is used, Mokudai Kazuto-san noticed a mark (for where to stand) and asked the staff, "Is this okay?" We weren't paying attention to it, so it's amazing that he noticed it instantly and acted accordingly.

Tomizono: We'd never met before, but they created an atmosphere where we felt comfortable talking to them and had alot of fun. During breaks, we'd play games where you have to hold back your laughter. Kan-kun is also from the Kansai region, so we got along really well, and were able to film in a really friendly atmosphere.

Matsumoto: Everyone was very kind, and I remember that they talked to us alot.

Abe: It was easy to talk to them.

Fujibayashi: The two of you had a girls night out with Tsumuri (Aoshima Kokoro) and Neon (Hoshino Yuna).

Matsumoto: That's right.

Abe: We had some girl talk.

Tomizono: I'm sure you did.

Fujibayashi: What did you talk about?

Matsumoto: Things like painting nails, perfume and other stuff.

Motojima: To be honest, I've been paying alot of attention to my appearance lately, and I've been asking Matsumoto-san and Abe-san alot of questions.

Matsumoto: It's true

Motojima: When Tsumuri-san heard about this, she set up a prank for the makeup artists to teach me fake beauty info. I was completely fooled.

Everyone: (laughs).

Motojima: I also felt that everyone from Geats did things very freely. They included adlibs, and there's a scene where Ace says, "I'm glad I was turned into this," but it was interesting to see Ace say things in a way that he'd never do during test takes. I thought he was very good at keeping the atmosphere on set peaceful.

Tomizono: But, when it was a real take, it was really cool.

Motojima: That's right! There was an incredible difference.

-Becoming a level ... Chemy?!-

"In this work, the Geats members are turned into Chemies, but if you could become a Chemy, what would you want to look like?"

Fujibayashi: Because It's obvious what I'd be, I probably don't need to say it.

Motojima: What do you mean?

Fujibayashi: I could only be a spanner.

Matsumoto: Ah!

Tomizono: If not a spanner, what Chemy would Yasu become instead?

Fujibayashi: None, I can't think of anything else.

Tomizono: You've become Spanner Chemy. What do you do?

Fujibayashi: Loosen the screws in people's heads.

Everyone: (laughs).

Fujibayashi: Everyone becomes so stupid, that they forget how to transform and can no longer speak Japanese.

Abe: That's terrible (laughs). That'd make you the strongest, wouldn't it?

Tomizono: What'll happen if you combine with another Chemy?

Fujibayashi: Valvarad uses it, not Gotchard.

Tomizono: I see.

Fujibayashi: Sabimaru would be a tablet, right?

Tomizono: (laughs). As Tomizono, I'd like a Chemy that's really cool. Like a dragon, but softer.

Fujibayashi: Like something you'd find on a souvenir from a school field trip?

Tomizono: Right, like something on a keychain.

Fujibayashi: I think children would love that.

Tomizono: That's good. I want to appear like that as a level 10 Chemy.

Motojima: I want to become a level 100 Chemy.

Everyone: (laughs).

Motojima: I want to be treated like a legend.

Matsumoto: What would I be? Maybe a bird?

Abe: Ah!

Tomizono: Is that what you wanted?

Abe: I've been beat.

Fujibayashi: But, it depends on the type of bird.

Matsumoto: Hmmm…a crow?

Fujibayashi: A crow, huh? I'd like to own one atleast once.

Tomizono: People say they're smart.

Abe: They're said to have the intelligence of 5 year olds.

Fujibayashi: Well then, they're smarter than me.

Everyone: (laughs).

Tomizono: Is there a reason why you went with a bird?

Matsumoto: I think it'd be nice to fly across the open sky. The wind would feel great too.

Abe: You get it!

Matsumoto: And crows are cool, aren't they? That's why I want to be Crow Chemy.

Fujibayashi: Oto-chan, what kind of bird would you like to be?

Abe: I want to be a black kite.

Tomizono: A black kite?

Abe: When I was little, I remember them because they used to attack me alot when I went camping. When I’d be eating a meal, they'd suddenly snatch it away. They're agile, can fly, and they can enjoy scenery that we can't normally see.

Fujibayashi: I want to steal someone's food.

Abe: Right, right.

Tomizono: Really? (laughs).

Abe: I think black kite's are the strongest.

Fujibayashi: What about Kuma-san?

Kumaki: Because of Bumblebee, I like cars.

Fujibayashi: Ah, from "Transformers."

Kumaki: I think it would be cute if I were a Chemy that looked like Bumblebee.

Tomizono: Would you be a transforming Chemy?

Kumaki: Yeah, I'd transform.

Motojima: I think that'll be in the show sooner or later.

Kumaki: When will it appear?

Fujibayashi: It'd be alot like Golddash.

Kumaki: Ah! That's right!

Motojima: Then, it'll be like a car version of Golddash!

"We would love to hear more, but we'd like to conclude with a message from Motojima-san to our readers on behalf of everyone."

Motojima: I think the highlight is that the character's charm, which is different from the TV show, is brought out by interacting with the Kamen Rider Geats members. Many of the strongest level number 10 Chemies appear, and the development where humans turn into Chemies is also unexpected, it's unexpected plus unexpected twice expected…….it's like unexpected x2.

Tomizono: So double expected?

Fujibayashi: Are you saying…it's going to turn out to be more than expected?

Motojima: Ah, that sounds good.

Fujibayashi: You just said it yourself. You bite your tongue?

Tomizono: Did you mispronounce something?

Motojima: Well uh, it turned out to be more than I expected…

Everyone: (laughs).

Motojima: The unpredictable development of the story is appealing, and the fact that it features Chemies that can talk is also a key point.

Abe: Agreed.

Motojima: Please watch out for how Houtarou and his friends will interact with the talking Chemies, which have yet to appear in the TV show!

[bagalois]

In my 2nd year doing a CompSci degree @ uni in my late 20s. Was never good at school but really like it. However. Having to do proofs just doesnt come naturally to me. Do you have any tips or ressources? Were you always good at it?

i'm going to answer this ask one part at a time. sorry to keep you waiting.... finals killed me and i wanted to give this an actual, good response.

In my 2nd year doing a CompSci degree @ uni in my late 20s. Was never good at school but really like it.

that's great! computer science is a hard major, and school is a hard thing to go through. setting yourself up to do college admissions, get into a school, and study -- especially as a full adult -- takes a lot more work than someone who gets pushed into it by their parents. so i respect the dedication that got you to university, especially when there exist so many people who have a college education handed to them and they waste it (by cheating or otherwise not caring).

Having to do proofs just doesnt come naturally to me.

i'd say doing proofs isn't natural to most people... it's just a skill that you need to get better at. math students learn proofs just to become proficient in the language, and graduate students study it to become professionals.

also, just in my experience (i was a cs major too), computer science teachers do an awful job at teaching math/proofs. they explain with things that would make more sense to a computer than they would a human - which is the useful part for cs and probably why they teach it that way... but its not good for math.

Do you have any tips or ressources?

one resource: this is George Polya's strategy for solving math problems. it's a good philosophy, but they're not actual tips. you can read this if you want to get into the right mindset.

as for tips... i think i'll just do an example that roughly follows Polya's strategy.

(i don't know your level, so i'm taking a guess to an example that hopefully is useful... this was one of the proofs i had in my discrete math homework in my second year of uni. feel free to send me another ask if this isn't helpful though.)

Let's solve this problem "Every multiple of 4 has a square which is a multiple of 4."

first, read the problem completely. identify what you are given and identify what you want to prove. now write down the stuff you're given. then write down what you want to prove.

in the example problem, we have multiples of 4. thus, i'm going to start my proof with "Let x be a multiple of 4."

what do we want to prove? we want to prove that that multiples of 4, multiplied by themselves (aka squared), gives you a multiple of 4. so, my next sentence is going to be, "In order to prove the problem statement, we need to show that x^2 is a multiple of 4."

the reason why you should lead with the answer is because it's too easy to do logical/mathematical manipulations and not get anywhere with it. you need to keep the end in mind. then, every logical/mathematical step you make is motivated by getting you closer and closer to the answer.

after this, if your statements are not already able to be mathematically manipulated, you should find the mathematical definitions of the results you're trying to show.

so in the example, how do we show that x^2 is a multiple of 4? the definition of something being a multiple of 4 is that it's equal to some integer times 4. in order to even start working with the proof, we should translate "multiple of 4" into an equation.

here is my third sentence: "Since x is a multiple of 4, we can write x = 4n for some integer n."

(notice that i didn't write down anything about x^2. this is where i am "keeping the end in mind" - we want to eventually get to "x^2 = 4 x (something)" and we're going to work our way over there.)

once you've translated your english into math, there's a few ways to proceed. our example is really easy, but you're probably doing harder proofs than this. if you find yourself struggling at this step, i suggest you learn to identify different types of problem set-ups and know how to prove them. if there's a statement that says "given this, prove that" you can try a direct proof, a contrapositive proof, or a proof by contradiction. if a problem asks you to prove a property holds for all natural numbers, you should try either a direct proof or a proof by induction. (if those words don't mean anything to you, you can look up "list of proof techniques" - here's one of them, but you should go looking for more pdfs, videos and demonstrations.)

i'm not going to explain more about proof techniques in this, because each one is deserving of their own post. but if you want me to explain any of them in particular, you should send me another ask! =w=

but anyways, i picked a simple example, so at least for this we can just prove our result directly. we have x, we want x^2, so let's go ahead and square x.

x = 4n, so x^2 = (4n)^2

but wait, in order to finish the proof, we need to write our answer in terms of 4 x (something). so factor out a 4. with this addition, we have

x = 4n, so x^2 = (4n)^2 = 4(4n^2)

look, we just wrote x^2 in terms of 4 x (something), where (something) is an integer. that's exactly what we wanted to show. so our final version of the proof is this:

Let x be a multiple of 4. In order to prove the problem statement, we need to show that x^2 is a multiple of 4. Since x is a multiple of 4, we can write x = 4n for some integer n. So x^2 = (4n)^2 = 4(4n^2), which is a multiple of 4. This completes the proof.

congratulations, you just wrote a proof.

reviewing the steps, we have:

write down the givens.

write down what you want to show. (you can also write down what proof technique you will use in step 4 - proof by contradiction, proof by cases, proof by induction, etc.)

translate the english into math. (can be combined into steps 1 and 2.)

while keeping the end in mind, do your mathematical reasoning. (learn proof techniques and the templates for those!)

reach the answer.

write a conclusion sentence. (like "This completes the proof." you can also draw a square or write QED after your last sentence to show that you're done, which is what mathematicians sometimes do.)

some other less-important-but-still-extremely-useful things to know:

rigor. this is more of a mindset than an actual tip, so don't stress about this too much. this means that, when you're writing, your reasoning should be complete and airtight. don't skip steps.

propositional logic and basic set theory. if you really want to get better at proofs, i highly suggest you get familiar with the logical calculus and be able to do rigorous proofs in basic set theory. in my experience, math students typically don't struggle with knowing what proof technique to use. at least for me, this has always been a subconscious step. i believe it's due to math students receiving a solid background in propositional logic and basic set theory before doing anything else.

read/reference your textbook. in order to translate from english to math, you need mathematical definitions, properties, and formulas. the textbook will give these to you. if you're lucky, the same (or very similar) proofs will show up as examples, and you can just follow along/copy the steps.

when all else fails, plug in variables and keep running through examples until you find a pattern. this is what i do when the problem involves numbers or equations and i literally have nowhere to start. i answered two questions on the putnam exam by doing this! (and i was just a college freshman hehe)

Were you always good at it?

sort of? i think i have talent. my brain really likes logical/mathematical reasoning, but i've always been slow at learning new concepts and i'm bad at asking exploratory/clarifying questions.

i did/was pushed to do a lot of math growing up, so i suppose i was "good" at proofs when i got to college. unfortunately i'm not a genius, and for non-geniuses, the thing that sets you apart from other non-geniuses is just clocking in the hours.

when i was little, my parents managed a lot of my time, so i had a lot more hours on other people. nowadays my time management is pretty bad, so i'm falling behind :|