#kind of a minor plot point in the grand scheme of things

[foxstens]

and so i am once again thinking about kayleigh's letter

how did they find it? how did tetsuji not notice it missing for years?

what did kevin think of it? what did riko think of it?

why did riko allow kevin to keep it? how was he that confident in kevin's loyalty to them? why did riko read it almost as many times as kevin did? did kevin know riko read it as well?

What Did It Say?

[ckret2]

I don't know if anyone has asked this already, but I really really need to know if goldilocks is gonna have any romantic development between agent powers and Bill, where Bill does feel a certain thrill for the whole dating scene. I honestly had never thought of them as a pair before, but with your fic I'm genuinely in need of any content at all where there's a certain mutual romantic/sexual tension between the two, and I really wanna know if you plan on expanding a bit on it, because after all Billford is the endgame, but idk if this is gonna be a plot point where Ford experiences jealousy (bc I'd eat up that too, honestly, anything u write makes me a bit insane) or if the manipulation is as far as we're getting with these two. Thank you for writing!!!

I'm gonna stick this one under a read more since this is the kind of plot point I don't mind spoiling, but that some readers might not want to have spoiled.

EDIT: this sure is a hell of a post for tumblr's "move the read more down one paragraph before posting without telling you" bug to kick in. Fixed.

Powers is gonna pop back in and out of the plot for the rest of the fic, the fake dating will continue, and it's possible they might hook up more than once idk yet that's the kind of minor detail that's too far out for me to have plotted yet; but, the emotions are gonna be pretty much one-sided.

Bill does find a few things he actually likes about Powers (he appreciates a human who yearns to Solve The Mysteries), but in the grand scheme of things, it's like finding a gold watch in a parking lot. It doesn't make you wanna buy the whole parking lot. To Bill, Powers has more dealbreakers than positive traits. (Like... working for the government, for starters.)

And he'll be quite happy to hook up with him, but not due to any attraction to Powers himself; Bill's just turned on by other people being attracted to him. Powers is a warm body that offers Bill attention and physical pleasure, and 90% of the time attention & pleasure is all Bill wants out of people. (The other 10% of the time he wants a portal.)

So there's gonna be like... a cold-hearted femme fatale vs naive rival spy type dynamic here. There's some kinda tension, it gets steamy, but plot twist the femme fatale felt nothing for the spy the whole time. Except it's not a plot twist because we're following Bill's POV instead of Powers's so it's not a surprise.

Ford knows Bill too well to be jealous over somebody Bill's manipulating; and he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who gets jealous over physical intimacy. Bill could bang half the town and Ford wouldn't get jealous until he hears that Bill's been helping someone out on their quantum physics doctoral thesis. He maybe gets jealous over emotional intimacy, but he definitely gets jealous over intellectual intimacy.

(Like,, the one time in the fic so far that he's gotten jealous—not even in a romantic sense, just in general!—is when he saw Bill playing chess with Mabel. Bill playing chess with a kid gets Ford more jealous than Bill banging an utterly smitten suitor and that tells you everything you need to know about Ford's priorities.)

If anything, he actually pities Powers because he knows the guy's getting used and doesn't deserve it.

There is someone else later on that Ford might be getting jealous of (depending on what order events end up happening in—i.e., whether it's still going on AND whether Ford knows about it once his emotions start to turn), but that character hasn't been introduced yet.

There's also someone Bill might be getting jealous of depending on whether I find a way to work them into the plot. I hope I do, I've got a couple killer scenes in mind for them.

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Five

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: 17k (holy moly)

Chapter Warnings: I tried to sprinkle some fluffy flashbacks and smutty references later in here just to lighten the mood but this is angsty!! probably cursing I honestly can't remember, and serious warnings rn mentions of hacking/gossip blogs/blackmail/cyber bullying/nudes being leaked, talia is her own warning tbh. I tried not to make a cliched ex comes in between them plot and idk how it comes across but yeah I was trying to toe the line between it being interesting/different and then going too far and not being able to write around it which is why the plot kind of fixes itself quick and is a leeeetle bit bad but there's some unresolved bitterness in that relationship for sure lmao she has a LOT 2 say!! did I mention there's angst in here? insecurity/self-doubt and miscommunication!!! in abundance!!! but!! luke is a cutey patootie in this I wrote his part with a lil smile on my face 💖 also a ridiculous conversation about huffing glue lmao

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Four)

A/N: ok so in the grand scheme of things this is both a filler chapter and also like a pivotal point in the story to set something later up, but when I was planning this entire fic out, the only directive I gave myself for this specific chapter was insert angst. you wouldn't believe the amount of times I've written and rewritten and gone back and forth on what's in here. it's the kind of instruction only a complete melon would give themselves and I clearly just hate myself in ways that are spooky and strange to submit myself to this kind of torture.

and I hear your cries of hasn’t this fic just been angst so far??? yes!! you may be correct!! but you don’t get a rainbow without a bit of rain hun!!! grab an umbrella!!! I promise good will come of this lmao

I'm sorry this one took so long, it's the only chapter I didn't have any kind of plan or direction for obviously and I tried to come up with so many different options for the talia plot before I landed on whatever this is, but the next one I do have some scenes written out in my plan so shouldn't be as long in between. my goal has always been a chapter a week but like I said the other day work has been a lot for me the past couple of weeks so I am genuinely sorry for making you wait!!

you guys were very fun and very kind to me after the last chapter so please please please lets keep the good vibes going come chat to me about your thoughts about the fic about the weather about anything!! 💓

Nico

When Nico and Talia had first started dating, there had been an element of excitement to the dynamic. Nico hadn’t properly dated anyone in a while - had casual flings here and there, and for the most part spent his time swallowing down his burgeoning feelings for his best friend - and there was a novelty to starting something with someone new.

He had all the intentions of building something serious with her. She was fun, got on with his friends, had ties close to home that meant he wouldn’t be putting a wedge between the two of them should he want to travel back in his breaks, and sinking his teeth into the challenges of a relationship was something that actually intrigued him.

He liked planning dates, liked buying gifts to see that buzz of joy and gratitude it would elicit, and he liked the companionship - liked having someone there when he came back from a long roadie or a tough string of games. 

He liked it so much he never really opened his eyes to the fact that Talia didn’t. 

She didn’t like the dates he planned - didn’t like the restaurants he chose, the movies he wanted to share with her, the bars him and the guys frequented. She didn’t like America, didn’t like their coffee shops, thought their pastries were packed with too much sugar, their portion sizes were too large for her ever to enjoy going for lunch, always complaining about feeling bloated and sluggish after every meal. She hated Jersey - wanted to spend all her time across the Hudson, looking down on everyone she met and everywhere they went together. She didn’t make much use of the gifts he bought her - let every bouquet of flowers die a quick, careless death, said the watch he bought her didn’t go with enough of her other jewellery and turned her nose up at every effort he made to make his apartment feel more like her home. 

She wasn’t all that comforting when it came to companionship, either. Rolled her eyes when he came home aching and exhausted, went out without him on the days he was coming back from a roadie and returned home when he had long retired to his bed. She would always want to meet up with her girlfriends instead of hanging around the team, and only ever wanted to come to games if she could bring her own entourage - mostly to show off her connections and hardly ever to actually support him.

And so, despite the initial attraction, despite the excitement that first came with their blossoming relationship, Nico can only look at Talia with disinterest and frigidity now.

He barely greets her as he opens the door to his apartment, moving aside to let her in and waiting for her to trudge her small case in behind her before he closes it, leaning against the surface and watching her discard her bag and keys on the counter with familiarity.

When she turns to face him, running a hand through her hair and huffing out a big sigh, he takes in her dishevelled appearance.

Even when travelling, Talia usually takes great pride in her pristine exterior - hair blow-dried, outfit co-ordinated and steam-pressed to perfection, not a crease or stain in sight, and usually a light layer of makeup to cover the slight imperfections like the darkened under eyes and redness around her nose. This isn’t like her.

She looks like she’s been messing with her hair the whole 8 hour flight out and beyond, her eyes are rimmed-red with smudges of brown at the corners, her lips are chapped and swollen like she’s been crying, and her sweatpants don’t match her hoodie. It’s almost like she’d thrown on whatever she could find and caught the first flight out, fresh out of bed.

“What’s going on?” He cuts straight to the chase, losing all formality and courtesy. He should feel bad for his callous greeting, but she had broken up with him over text not even a month ago - she doesn’t exactly deserve outstretched arms and a warm embrace, he thinks.

“Hi Talia, how have you been, Talia? It’s nice to see you Talia.” She mocks, a frown overtaking her features immediately. “I’m absolutely amazing, thanks for caring, Nico!” Sarcasm spews from her tongue like pure venom, and his eyes practically roll into the back of his head.

Nico pushes himself off of the door, heavy footsteps leading him into his kitchen where he can make himself a coffee to get through this. His watch reads 6:05 - far too early for her antics - and rising to her nagging is only going to make things worse.

“Do you want a drink?” He asks, as he busies himself with his coffee press, unable to look at her too long without the pricks of guilt irritating him.  He doesn’t even know what he has to feel guilty about.

“I’ll get it myself,” she scoffs, venturing over to the fridge and pouring out some orange juice - her movements around his space eerily natural. She slams back most of the drink as he works out how to brew his coffee - but she sees right through him. He’s hardly ever used the press before, and he’s just doing so now to avoid her in whatever capacity he can. “I need money.”

Nico’s almost positive he hasn’t heard her right - that there’s some kind of mix up between her standard German and his Swiss - and he slowly turns to properly face her, brows slanting into a deep frown as he assesses her expression.

She has a hand on her hip, her jaw set and her eyes darkened and serious. 

“You have money.”

Talia comes from money - her father is some kind of film producer and her mother an artist, if Nico remembers correctly - and she makes good money, herself. She’s been a print model since she was scouted in some market in Munich since she was 15, has had her face plastered in ads in magazines and catalogues around the world. She’s hardly strapped for cash. She gets things gifted to her by whatever company she can get a hold of. What could she possibly need him to give her money for?

“Not enough.” Her tone is cold, her demeanour the same, and if Nico can still gauge her emotions correctly, there’s an element of blame that she is starting to shift towards him, and his whole body starts to feel tense.

“Not enough for what?”

He can’t quite tell what feeling washes over him - worry, at the thought she’s gotten herself into some kind of trouble, stress, at the thought this could be a recurring thing, and potentially pity, at the way she’s so clearly carrying the weight of something heavy - something she’s lugged all the way across the Atlantic on a long haul flight with her.

“Not enough to pay the guy who’s blackmailing me not to leak the videos that I sent to you.”

“What vide-“ he bites back, and the immediate arch of her brow tells him all he needs to know. “Oh.”

Shit.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?” She sneers, fury in her gaze and dismay in her tone. “You’ve ruined my life, and all I get is an oh?”

“Whoa, slow down, I’ve ruined your life?”

Nico has never been one to shame any girl for sending explicit pictures - he’d been more than willing to receive them at the time - but he hadn’t ever forced her hand. He hadn’t even asked her for them, in the first place. 

She’d taken it upon herself to spice things up, as she had put it at the time, when the team had gone on the road in early December. It was just after he’d returned from his injury - a time in which he’d spent mentally distanced from her as he’d focused so much on getting back to the game, their relationship consisting mainly of not-so-passionate sex to avoid aggravating his injury and hardly of any kind of meaningful conversation - and she had thought that keeping him on his toes on a roadie would mean he’d come back more interested than ever.

If he’d been looking out for red flags at the time, he might have caught that blaring one; needing to try new things only a few months into a relationship to keep it fun and light.

He’d been in his hotel room in Seattle, freshly showered and ready to throw himself straight into bed when his phone had started to ping. It was suggestive texts at first, are you alone? And I’m thinking about you. Then it had been pictures, hands over lingerie and fingers between glossy, pouted lips.

And then videos, one after the other before he had any chance to respond - her phone set up far enough away that her whole body was in frame, touching herself while laying on his bed and calling out for him.

He had called her instead of sending anything back, and as he realises the severity of the situation, a selfish part of him is glad he did so.

“Talia, I didn’t even save those videos, and I definitely didn’t show them to anyone else.”

Nico could never. Not only for the fact that he was raised to be a decent human being, but he has a sister - if anyone ever did that to Nina, he’d tear them apart, limb from limb. 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever sent anything to.” She seems to have made her mind up, and Nico feels as if his heart plummets through his torso at the realisation. She’s travelled all this way because she genuinely believes he’s the cause of this - that he’s shared intimate videos of her without her consent, to someone who would extort her for them. “And he sent me some pictures as proof, had information about me like the address of this apartment.”

“Talia, I swear on my mother’s life, I wouldn’t do that to you - to anyone, not ever.”

Tears well in her crystalline eyes, and Nico waits with bated breath as she assesses the situation in her head. 

He isn’t a liar - he has never given her a reason to think he is one. In their time together, he had always been honest, always been loyal, and he hopes at the very least - despite her obvious distain for him now, and how little she ended up caring about their relationship in the end to cut it off in the way she did - she thought of him as kind. 

He can do nothing but be patient, let her come to whatever conclusion on her own, and it’s only when he spots the quiver in her bottom lip that he takes an apprehensive step forward, ready to console her if needed.

She practically throws herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist and bawling into his chest, and all he can do is hold her and wait. He tries to rub a soothing hand up and down her back, holding the other against her head as her body wracks with sobs. All he can feel is the pounding of his own heartbeat, pulsing throughout his entire body until it’s all he can hear, too.

Nico does his best to comfort her, shushing and cooing and whispering how it’s going to be alright, but it does little to help. She’s beyond relief.

“There’s a guy who said he can track whoever is doing this to me,” she sniffles as she pulls herself away. “He’s in Jersey City Heights, he’s some sort of ethical hacker, whatever that means, I’m going to meet him and he’s gonna go through my phone.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Nico doesn’t even hesitate to ask - if not to protect her, and make sure she isn’t unknowingly getting herself into an even more dangerous situation, then to protect himself too. If someone has Talia’s pictures, and she only sent them to him, there’s a possibility his phone had been hacked, and if this guy is as ethical as he says, maybe he can check Nico’s stuff, too, just to be safe.

She gives him an appreciative smile, eyes still glassy and cheeks flushed. “I’d really appreciate that.”

“I’m gonna shower, then we can go. You can grab whatever to eat while you’re waiting.” He backs away from her completely, only just able to acknowledge the ache in his muscles once the intensity of the situation has settled a little, and he just needs to stand under the steaming spray and clear his mind before he properly immerses himself in her company. 

He has a lot more than this whole mess that he needs to think about, and maybe a shower can bring him a little clarity on how exactly he’s going to explain himself to the beautiful girl whose bed he had abruptly left not even an hour ago. 

“Why are you dressed?”

Nico stops in his tracks.

When he had got back to his apartment, he’d made a little effort for it to seem like he’d been there all night. He’d gone through to his bedroom, mussed up his sheets to make it seem like he had been sleeping in them - and not with the anticipation that Talia was going to be entering his bedroom, but with her, he never knows - trying to retrace the steps of his usual routine before he goes to bed, he had closed all the blinds, had moved his gym bag by the door.

But he hadn’t changed.

Still adorned in his sweatshirt and jeans from the night before, the clothing feels all that much heavier on his body as she brings attention to it, and he quickly racks his brain to come up with a valid excuse that doesn’t rouse further suspicion.

“I fell asleep in these clothes.” As easy as the lie comes out, he doesn’t feel great saying it. Doesn’t feel like erasing the night he had shared with Poppy is for the greater good, even if it is just to Talia, but avoiding another difficult conversation is a must right now - especially when he’d already lied to her on the phone. “Was out late with the guys last night, Timo threw a party for my birthday.”

“Right,” she drags out, and when he turns back around, she casts a scrutinising glance over him, top to bottom. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“No worries,” he shrugs, genuinely not offended. She has no reason to remember his birthday. Not anymore. “Like I said, help yourself to whatever, I’ll try not to be long.” 

When he undresses for his shower, he’s thankful he hadn’t had the foresight to change in anticipation of Talia’s arrival. He probably would have donned a t-shirt and some shorts, oblivious to the visible indents on his thighs where Poppy had dug her nails in as she took him in her mouth.

His chest and torso are littered with scratches, some faint, some a little deeper, and he can’t get the right angle to see his back but he imagines they’re the same - the memory of her clutching at him as both of their climaxes approached is vivid enough for him to picture the marks she left behind.

He groans as the thought of her brings back that swirling feeling in the pit of his stomach, as he notices the blooming arousal pool there, and feels himself harden as he steps under the spray of his shower.

If his phone had been on do not disturb through the night, he could be in the shower with Poppy, instead.

He could have woken up to her in his arms, could have pecked at her sleep-swollen lips until it brought her out of her slumber, and spent his morning making up for lost time just like he had promised her last night. He could have made light work of the pleasure he had given her the night before - could have had her underneath him in her bed, tangled up in the mess of sheets and falling apart before they shared a morning shower, where he’d have held her up against the tiles and would’ve moved into her until they couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. He’d have made her breakfast, something sweet, so that as she sat and watched him atop the kitchen counter he had tasted her on for the first time not even 12 hours before, he’d press his tongue into her mouth after she had eaten and savour the flavour of strawberries that had settled between her lips.

Instead, he’s here, turning the temperature of his water down until any and all excitement in his body is dampened, and all he can focus on is the effect the cold has on all his other aching muscles.

Once he has showered and gotten dressed - and has come to the conclusion that any further thoughts about Poppy need to wait until the Talia problem is resolved and out of his hands, he finds his ex girlfriend sprawled across his couch, music playing from the speaker in the corner, and taking helping herself to a whole new level. 

Her case is opened where she had left it by the door, and she’s set herself a little vanity up on his coffee table, fixing her appearance before they leave.

She’s changed out of her mismatched sweats, has dressed herself in jeans and a sweater, and has found an extension cable long enough for her to plug in whatever hot tool she’s currently running through her hair.

“You take the longest showers in the history of man,” she rolls her eyes, not even casting a glance his way as she focuses on her own reflection in the little mirror she must have brought with her. “I do not want to know what it is you get up to in there.”

“I was barely 30 minutes, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, almost,” she runs the tool through her bangs until they flick out at the edges on either side of her face, and it reminds him of all the times he had watched her while waiting for her to finish getting ready. It makes him feel uneasy how familiar it all is, how she’s so quickly made herself at home again in his space.

He wants to tell her she needs to pack her stuff back up, that she won’t be staying here and needs to give his keys back, but the weight of the situation at hand dawns on him before he can open his mouth.

He’ll wait until they get back later, his decision depending on the outcome of their visit to her hacker friend.

As much as he doesn’t want her around, he isn’t going to kick her out with no place to go if her life is still shrouded in unsafe circumstances. 

Talia unplugs her stuff, wraps the cord around the handle of the brush she was using, and places it on a mat she must have brought with her so it doesn’t burn through the surface of the table. “Kay, let’s go.”

She marches ahead of him, picking up her bag and keys on the way out and leaving him to lock up while she calls for the elevator. They wait together in silence, his heart thudding an anxious rhythm in his chest as he anticipates the arrival of the elevator - and thankfully, it arrives empty.

He tries to distance himself from her as they enter, him standing in one corner, and hoping she takes the other, but she doesn’t quite get the memo, standing obliviously in the centre as she types away to someone on her phone and he presses the button to go to the basement.

Nico watches the numbers go down with bated breath. His floor, the next, the next one after that, and he uses any good will he has left with the universe to hope and pray it skips the floor coming up - but, as is just his luck, the elevator comes to a stop with a soft thud, and the doors open to reveal the very situation he’s been hoping to avoid. 

Jack walks straight in, eyes cast down to the phone in his hands, distractedly typing away and not even noticing the button for the parking level has been pressed before he pushes it, himself.

Luke notices straight away, halting in his movements to enter the space as his gaze flickers between the two people already occupying it. 

He diverts his eyes when they meet Nico’s head dropping as he steps in and stands beside his brother, uttering a quick greeting of, “Hey, Cap.”

Jack’s attention is captured immediately, spinning at an almost dizzying speed to face his captain, phone disregarded into his back pocket. “Schao! I thought you’d be at-,”

He’s thankfully able to tune into his perception before he carries on with his train of thought, a subtle movement in his peripheral diverting his gaze to the figure stood to the side of Nico. 

“Talia. Hi.”

“Hi, Jack.” Nico cringes inwardly at how disinterested she sounds. “Luke.” Talia had never really cared for Nico’s teammates - especially not the younger guys like Jack and Luke. She was quick to pass judgement, making comments on their maturity, or apparent lack-thereof, and wasn’t the biggest fan of how close Nico was with the pair. Didn’t like the time or attention he gave them considering the close quarters they lived in, and had always been resentful. She always claimed her English wasn’t good enough to hold a proper conversation with them, but he’d seen her enough around her American friends to know it wasn’t true.

“We’re just meeting up with some of the guys for breakfast.” Jack says, cautiously, in an attempt to fill the silence. The invitation remains unspoken, but Nico can tell in the way the younger boy cocks his head and meets his eye that he’s gauging his current situation for the morning.

“We have plans.” Talia must be able to tell what he was getting at, too and Nico can see Luke’s eyes narrow as soon as the word resonates in his head. Plans. Pre-meditated. Made before she had sprung all of this on him within the last hour or two. Panic stirs within him, and his throat itches to speak the truth, but it’s just not the right time to do so with Talia stood beside him. If he starts getting defensive, she’ll start asking questions, and the boys will have to bear witness to him skirting around the matter of Poppy. 

It’s not a good look no matter which way he swings it. He’s stuck in a thick, dark, tarry mess of not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings but making all the wrong decisions. A minefield of not knowing how to explain himself without raising a million questions on either side, and hoping one of the brothers might toe the line of the boundaries of their relationship and just straight up ask why Talia is here.

He knows he has fucked up without the way neither of them are looking him in the eye.

He knew it the second Poppy’s door had locked behind him this morning - he doesn’t need Luke refusing to meet his gaze, doesn’t need Jack’s shifting side eye to tell him he’s made a mistake. 

“I’ll text you later.” Nico says, mainly to Jack but still trying to meet his brother’s eyes with no luck. It’s an attempt to say something, without saying anything. A silent beg not to jump to conclusions about what they’ve seen - and, although he knows they wouldn’t, not to tell anyone else. Not whichever of the guys they are meeting up with, not anyone else on the team, and definitely not Poppy.

“Yeah, sure,” Jack mutters in a poor attempt to hide his discomfort, and an even worse attempt at masking his relief when the doors ping open on the parking level.

“Have fun with your plans,” Luke huffs out, his tone like a tight fist clutching at Nico’s chest despite his courteous choice of words.

“We will,” Talia forces a smile. Nico gets the feeling she isn’t as oblivious to the tension as he hopes she is.

The four of them separate into their pairs with mumbled goodbyes, Jack and Luke heading off to Luke’s car on one side of the garage, and Nico and Talia heading to his on the other, and Nico can’t even let out a sigh of pseudo-relief before Talia jumps on him.

“That was weird.”

“We broke up, they weren’t expecting to see us together.” He quickly excuses as he starts the car up, turning on the heat and hoping the soft buzz of the air will fill the silence enough that she doesn’t feel the need to talk. 

“It’s been like 3 weeks, most couples get back together after their first breakup.”

Has it only been 3 weeks? He thinks, shuddering at how little time had actually passed between her sending that text and him restoring balance to his life.

“We’re not most couples,” he shrugs, shutting that train of thought immediately as he starts to make his way out of the parking garage, ascending the ramp where the doors open up to reveal the dull beam of the winter morning sun. “You dumped me over text a week before Christmas, we’re not getting back together.”

“Oh yeah, I bet you were real cut up about it,” she jibes, sarcastically. “Probably landed straight in the bed of some desperate puck bunny more than happy to take your mind off of how awful I was to you.”

His mind immediately goes to Poppy, to last night, to her bed - and despite the complete bullshit Talia has fabricated in her head, despite how much he wants to tell her she has it all wrong, he can’t bear to twist himself even further into knots to skirt around mentioning the girl who did make him better.

“We’re not having this conversation right now.” He decides, tapping at the screen in the console of his car until he brings up the navigation. “Put in the address you need, we’re not too far from The Heights.”

The location she enters into the system is for an unassuming condo in a quiet, suburban area. The neighbourhood itself is picturesque, the buildings colourful, the paths lined with trees that seemed to flourish even in the midst of winter, and when Nico pulls up across the street, he notices the amount of families around - parents walking their kids to school and couples with dogs getting their morning steps in. It’s the last place he imagines some hacker to be shacked up, but maybe that’s the point.

He still doesn’t entirely understand the ethical part.

“It’s the one with the red brick and the balcony,” Talia points to the other side of the road as she unbuckles her seatbelt, and Nico looks over at the building as if he’s going to be able to see all the secrets stored within it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, number 414.” She shows him the messages she has exchanged with the guy, and sure enough, the address matches up. “C’mon, the sooner we get in there, the sooner we can figure this out.”

He follows her across the street, adjusting the cap he wears atop his head and making sure it conceals his identity from anyone with eyesight good enough to catch it, trying to shrug off the discomfort of the whole situation as he waits for someone to pick up the buzzer Talia relentlessly presses.

He hears a different kind of buzz, lighter, like the manual zoom of a camera, and cranes his neck to assess their surroundings as they wait, before he catches sight of the device in the top corner of the porch, facing directly onto them.

He hears the click of a lock as soon as his eyes make contact with the thing, and cautiously tries the handle on the door until it pushes all the way down, letting them into the building. 

The door to the ground floor condo is open, and stood in the entrance is a guy no older than 20, dressed in all black with dark, beady eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses. If Nico could find it in him to see the humour in the situation, he’d laugh at how he looks like Luke - a mop of curly brown hair, tall with a slim build and ever so slightly poor posture.

He straightens up as the two of them approach, Nico keeping Talia behind him as he assesses the safety of the situation. If they’re being lured into some kind of trap, he could definitely take this guy - he can’t even maintain direct eye contact, never mind manage to subdue a man of Nico’s stature.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone, Talia.”

He’s soft-spoken, his voice ever so nasally, and despite the fact that he’s talking to the girl behind him, his gaze has settled on Nico’s chest.

“My name’s Nico.” He introduces himself, holding out a hand to shake. He thinks he can write him off as a threat, for now, and if making him feel comfortable encourages him to help them, he wants to put him at ease. “

“I know who you are.” He doesn’t shake Nico’s hand. “I’m Myles. Come in.”

Myles doesn’t wait for the two of them, marching back into his place and leaving the door open for Talia and Nico to enter and close behind them. 

Nico isn’t surprised by the space - from his brief encounter with the resident so far, it fits him to a tee; neat, impersonal, furniture that looks fresh out of a catalogue. He follows him over to the corner of his living room, a PC set up with several monitors that he can’t tell are on until they’re standing straight in front of them.

Myles throws himself down into the large swivel chair, spinning until he’s facing the two of them and crossing his arms over his torso with disinterest. “So, nudes?”

Straight to the point. Nico can’t exactly be mad at it.

Talia steps out from behind him, handing her unlocked phone to Myles. “The messages started last week, just after New Years. Straight to my number, not in DMs or anything, but the number doesn’t even come up for me to call it from another phone or anything, just says unknown.”

Myles takes her phone and plugs it into his setup without even looking at whatever she has opened on it, and Nico watches as the screens come alive with mirrors of the device and some other apps that launch as soon as it connects. 

“That’s more helpful than you think, they have to use an app to be able to anonymously text you, makes it easier to identify them.”

The way Myles talks is monotonous and detached, but the way he works is anything but. His fingers move quicker than Nico’s eyes can track on his keyboard, typing away at whatever as different things flash up and leave his screen. It like something straight out of a spy movie.

“So we can find out who it is just from that?” He asks, arms folding over his chest as he watches in almost-awe.

“Not exactly. If it is a hacker, I could identify their signature. Doesn’t mean I could identify them, but we can work around it potentially.”

Talia throws herself down on the couch behind them exasperatedly, sighing loudly and making her displeasure known. “You told me you could track them down, that’s what I’m paying you to do.”

“I told you I could help you, I didn’t say I could specifically track anyone, that’s not how this works.”

“How does it work then?” Nico asks.

Myles wheels his chair to the side to make room for Nico to get closer, and starts walking him through the process, pointing through the different apps he uses and explaining how he uses them. One deciphers which app the person used to message Talia. Once that’s been deduced, he uses another to enter a backdoor into that app’s servers, perusing through them until he finds the account that sent the text, making sure the date, time and then content line up. Once he’s found the account, he can see the other texts sent from it, and a gallery spreads across two screens, with maybe hundreds of pictures, videos, messages and transactions all to or from that same account.

“You’re telling me you have the power to do all this and you don’t use it to like rob banks or something?”

“Ethical hacker, clue’s in the name.” Myles shrugs. Nico looks back to Talia, her jaw set as she picks at her nails out of boredom. It’s probably taken about fifteen minutes for this guy to work an absolute miracle, and she looks like she couldn’t care less. “We use all this information, and the access I have on the server, to shut this dude down and cut his con before he can do it to anyone else.”

“Whoa whoa,” Talia shoots up, “Won’t that make him mad? Make him just post all the photos?”

“I doubt it,” the hacker comments, bringing up a couple of the photos on the screens, some of Talia, some of another girl, making Nico divert his eyes. “They’re not even real.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Excuse me?”

Talia and Nico both question at the same time, leaning in to get a proper look to confirm what is being told to them. The other pictures Myles had brought up, the ones of other girls, are actually kind of the same. The same poses, the same backgrounds, the same outfits, or lack thereof, just different faces and different hair.

“They’re called deep fakes. Photoshop, essentially.” He has that aloof tone to his words again, and Nico can’t quite believe how simple it seems for him to say. “They put a bunch of your pictures into an AI generator and give it instruction, like put this face on a body posed like this or wearing that. I’d assume the video they have is the same.”

“How is that even possible?” Talia gasps, pushing herself forward and snatching the mouse from Myles’ grasp. She clicks into what she assumes is the video, and it starts playing before she can think better of it, thankfully without any sound. 

It’s Talia - that much is obvious from the initial close up of her face - but Nico doesn’t recognise anything else about it. He doesn’t recognise the room she’s in, the bed she’s on, the things she’s doing. He’s never seen this before. It’s definitely not one of the videos she had sent him, and when he looks closer, he realises the little moles on her ribs aren’t even there.

None of it is real.

“You said he sent you the photos? You didn’t realise they weren’t the ones you took?” He can’t conceal the bite in his tone, his brows furrowing as he looks at her in disbelief. She’s flown out here, disrupted his peace, blamed him for blackmailing her, and she can’t even recognise what is or isn’t her own body. 

“They looked real, I-,” Her shock disappears as quickly as it had come about, her mood shifting and a glare all of a sudden being directed at her ex boyfriend. “I wouldn’t have accused you if they didn’t look real, Nico.” She snaps, frowning at him like this is his fault. “You have no idea what it’s like to be threatened like that, I won’t have you blame me for panicking.”

Slivers of guilt seep into his subconscious, and he takes a deep breath, diverting his gaze uneasily and letting out a big sigh.

He knows he should be a little more compassionate, but there’s panicking, and then there’s this.

She had accused him of ruining her life.

“What about the rest of it?” Nico asks, “Like how did he get her number or have my address? You said he had other information?”

“He did,” Talia nods, looking over to Myles.

“The address he probably got when he got your number, and he could have got that from anywhere. Could be something as small as you ordering something online and the store having a data breach, or clicking a link that shared your IP address, and getting your phone information from that.” Myles starts his typing again, keeping a tight grip on his mouse so that it can’t be snatched again. “I could probably find out actually, they’re pretty easy to spot, do you clear your history often?”

“I wouldn’t even know how to do that,”

“Perfect,” Again, his fingertips work at lightening speed, and Nico watches as instagram opens on one of the screens. “Yeah, a DM sent to you from… Devils_tea. You opened a link to a shared drive to upload some pictures, the drive probably had malware and the pictures have location metadata.”

Nico rolls his eyes, that small ebb of pity washing almost completely away, and before Talia can stop him, Myles carries on. “Some of the pictures you sent them are the ones they used for the AI photos, look your face in this one is the exact same as this photo they threatened to leak.”

Nico recognises these photos. The ones that had been plastered all over social media when their relationship had leaked. Pictures of them back in Switzerland, on a weekend trip to Ibiza, selfies of them in his apartment, and even a picture of the two of them with his parents back at his family home in Valais.

He has been far too oblivious to Talia’s games for far too long, he realises. 

Of course she had been the one to leak everything - who else would have had those photos - but he hadn’t even considered it would be her; she had faced the harshest aftermath for it, why would she subject herself to all the subsequent grief that came with people knowing about their relationship?

Thank God for this guy’s lack of social cues, Nico thinks, or he would never have known that for as long as they had been together, she had been violating his revered privacy and trust.

“Nico, that wasn’t-,” Talia’s panic is evident, wide eyes, trembling hands raised in defence, “I must have been hacked,”

“Actually, there’s no-,” Myles begins to interject, fingers working again to fact check, but Nico doesn’t need him to validate what he already knows.

“Shut up,” Talia snarls, with a finger pointed at him, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re done here.” She reaches forward to snatch her phone back, yanking out the wire that connects it to his monitors and throwing it onto the desk. “We’re leaving, and if you think I’m paying you anything, you’re deluded.” 

Talia marches past them and straight out of the condo, slamming every door she possibly can behind her. Nico can only cringe as the sounds of her stomping footsteps echo until they fade out - until she’s probably outside and waiting for him back at his car.

“Doesn’t she want me to shut this thing down?”

“I’ll pay you.” Nico sighs, reaching into his pocket for his phone and trying to push down the feeling that arises when he’s met with a blank lock screen.

Poppy hasn’t messaged him. 

Not that he deserves for her to make it easy, to let him off the hook and pretend he hasn’t royally fucked things up with her.

“If you stop him, does he still have all the photos? He could still release them?”

“Yeah, but they’re pretty easy to validate as fakes, especially when you have the source material. I don’t think this guy is sophisticated enough for a full blown hack into her phone for the real thing. I couldn’t find evidence of any breach of her cloud or her device.”

Nico nods, but the information does little to quell the anxiety that squeezes his chest in a vice-like grip. 

This whole morning has been nothing but a giant waste of his time. From the second his eyes opened, to this moment right now, he’s made nothing but mistakes.

Not putting his phone on sleep mode before he and Poppy went to bed had been a mistake. Taking Talia’s call had been a mistake. Not waking Poppy up had been a mistake. Leaving without a note, without a text, leaving at all - it had all been one error after another, and all he has left to do is face up to the fact.

He can’t do anything to dwindle the panic rousing in every fibre of his being, the scarring marks left by torturous lashings of regret that whip at his skin.

He’s never felt so ashamed of himself, in such disbelief at his own decisions.

Why didn’t he just wake her?

She’s the most level-headed, acceptable person he knows. She would have understood. He hadn’t had a reasonable explanation at the time, and he doesn’t really have one now - but she would have accepted it, whatever he could have told her, she would have listened, waited until he could give her more.

He needs to see her, to explain, before it’s too late.

If he thinks about the feeling settling in his stomach, if he can compare it to anything, it’s like running from a blazing inferno of doubt and insecurity, licks of fire racing to catch up to him, the soles of his feet pressing into the sizzling ground - and Poppy is the cool embrace of safety.

She is light cracking through a window he just needs to break through to make it out.

If he can get to her quick enough, if he runs, and runs, maybe he’ll make it before he’s jiggling at a red hot handle that won’t move, won’t give, won’t budge.

If he can just talk to her, maybe the morning from hell will be outweighed by the days of resilience, weeks of efforts, years of loving her in whatever capacity, and the promise of something better.

He just needs to get rid of Talia.

The car journey back to his apartment is carried out in a deafening silence. She had tried to talk to him when he’d made his way out of Myles’ condo, when he had found her waiting by his Mercedes with crossed arms and a sour look on her face, but he’d told her he didn’t want to hear it, that they’d deal with it in private.

He hardly wanted a showdown with her in the middle of the street.

And so, she sat in his passenger seat, jaw set, glaring out the window and letting out the occasional huff or puff for attention that he wasn’t entertaining.

The elevator ride up to his place had been the same. Silent, filled with the type of tension you could cut with a knife, and all he could do was ignore her continued petulance and take deep breaths to calm himself down. In through his nose, out through his mouth, overlooking the way she tapped her foot in his peripheral vision, and almost audibly rolled her eyes every few seconds. 

“Would it have killed you to defend me in there?” She scoffs as soon as the door closes behind them in his apartment, “You just let him accuse me of all that stuff and completely invade my privacy!”

Nico screws his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose.

He can’t blow up, can’t stoop to her level. He won’t feel good after the fact. He knows how Talia operates, should have known she’d immediately play the victim card, and he isn’t falling into the trap of arguing to the point of being in the wrong.

He’ll say something he regrets and she’ll use it to her advantage, somehow.

“You asked him to go through your phone, Talia.” He sighs, making his way over to the kitchen and getting himself some water. Chugging at it does little to soothe the burning feeling prickling at the back of his mouth, or the itch of his tongue to spit out a scathing retort. “He’s shut down the guy behind it, he can’t message you or anyone else with any more threats, you should be happy.”

“I should be happy?” She follows him wherever he tries to get away, crowding his space and jabbing a pointed finger into his arm. “You have no idea what I’ve been going through this past week. I thought my career was over! How was I supposed to know it was fake?”

“You didn’t even look at the pictures-,”

“Because I was panicking! I was upset, you can’t expect me to be able to recognise what’s been photoshopped when I’m scared like that!”

“But you can fly straight over here and pin the blame on me for ruining your life? You weren’t too upset to point the finger, Talia,”

“Don’t be an asshole, Nico, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“I’m being the asshole? You don’t even care about the trail of destruction you leave behind you, do you? You send private pictures of us, of me, of my family to random people online who you don’t even know, for what, Talia? For money?”

“I don’t need their money-,”

“So it was just for the attention? You get to parade our relationship around like it means nothing more to you than a title, and once you get your fifteen minutes and a few more instagram followers, you just jet back home and dump me over a text?”

“Oh my God,” she cries, flailing her arms dramatically, following him yet again as he makes his way into his living room, picking her stuff up after her that she had discarded here before they left and throwing it into her travel bag. “Stop playing the victim, for Christ’s sake, you’re hardly heartbroken over it. I know for a fact you’ve been hooking up with someone, one of the girls messaged me that they saw you leave a party with her on New Years!”

“So that’s what this is?” Nico snaps, pointing to her, to her stuff, “You think I’m moving on so you fly back out here and spring this bullshit on me, try to make me feel bad?”

“You have some nerve, Nico,” Talia scoffs, folding her arms across her chest and levelling him with a darkened glare.

“I have nerve? You’re the one who broke up with me out of nowhere and think that you can just march back here and make demands, Talia, blaming me for something that was entirely your own doing.” He’s getting sick of walking on egg shells around the topic. If she hadn’t have been messaging people she wasn’t supposed to, this would never have happened - it’s no one’s fault but her own, and as harsh as it may be, he wants to wash his hands of the whole thing. “Calling me in the middle of the night, telling me I ruined your life, saying I need to give you money?”

“Out of nowhere?” Of course she would only pick up on that, he thinks. “My God, you are so self-absorbed.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you think that dating you is easy?” She questions with a measured step toward him. “Do you think I want to spend my life waiting around for my boyfriend, only for him to only ever come home grumpy,” another step, “Or whiny,” and another, “Or too tired and achey to do anything? And that’s when you do come home at all and aren’t half way across the country with the communication skills of a candle. It’s a constant uphill battle trying to get even a second of your attention, Nico, so God forbid I tried to gain some kind of advantage from being with you.”

Her words are starting to cut, but he tries not to react, tries not to bite back. He can count several ways in which she gained an advantage being with him, just off the top of the head - a girl like Talia is never shy of attention. Her courting gossip blogs and sending them private information is probably just scraping the barrel of the ploys she made for exposure while she was with him.

“I didn’t break up with you out of nowhere, I put up with you and the whole circus that comes with you for months, but God, is it exhausting being with you.”

“You knew what you were getting into, Talia. You knew my job, knew my life.” They had met initially through mutual friends - hockey friends of his back home, even - and she has other friends who happen to be wives or girlfriends of athletes. She can’t say she came into the relationship completely oblivious to the downsides of dating a professional player.

“Not really,” she shrugs, “All the other guys can find some sort of balance, but not you. All the other girls get a proper boyfriend, someone who spends time doing what they want to do, who sticks up for them when their psycho fans start to turn on them, who doesn’t keep them hidden away like some dirty secret.”

“That isn’t fair, I can’t control that stuff, Talia, it’s not my fault.” He wants to point out that she was the one engaging in their gossip and riling them up, but he can’t keep harping on about something she refuses to acknowledge. He doesn’t have the time, patience or energy for it anymore.

The initial ‘leaking’ of their relationship had caused their first major fight. Fans online had somehow - although Nico can now hazard a guess as to how - found out about the two of them, had dug into Talia, her background, her family, her job, and had found some pretty toxic posts on her social media. They had been old posts, and she had told Nico that wasn’t the kind of person she was anymore - and he had no reason not to believe her, had never seen or heard her act in the ways she had online in what she called her misguided youth - but someone in the PR department at the Devils had cottoned onto the topic, and had warned Nico of speaking out in her defence when the pitchforks started to raise.

He’d told her he supported her, but he couldn’t do so publicly - not without upsetting people within the organisation he had worked so hard to gain the respect of - and she had told him she understood. They hadn’t been together that long, it would have been a little unreasonable for him to put her above his work in the ways she was expecting, but she clearly doesn’t see it that way, now.

“Maybe not, but if I’d have known that being with you meant having my life invaded, my career ruined, I never would have followed you back here, Nico.” She sounds more solemn now - regretful, even - and as deep as her words cut, she says it like a piece of advice, “I just hope whatever poor girl you’ve got tangled up in your mess this time knows what she’s getting herself into.”

“And what’s that?” His throat feels tight as he speaks all of a sudden, his resolve in defending himself fading, and he tries to gulp down whatever lump is forming there but the feeling doesn’t budge.

This is what she’s good at.

Turning the tables. Reducing him to uncertainty of himself, of his actions, of his memory of their time together.

“A one-sided relationship with a guy who will never be able to put her first.”

There’s a point in every game he has ever had the misfortune of losing, as the seconds count down in the final third, where he has to come to terms with the fact that there’s no possible way for him to win. It’s sort of comparable to the way his insides churn when he’s on a plane and it drops into descent, like his body is falling at a different speed to his surroundings, or the feeling he gets in his gut when he’s hiking, and he dares to take a peek over the edge of whatever mountainside he’s trekking up, where his body can predict the fall, and his mind has set on there being nothing he can do about it.

This feels like all those feelings.

“Whoever she is, and I know she exists, she doesn’t deserve that. It’s not fair.”

Nico’s heart pounds in his chest, echoing and thrumming in his ears until all he can hear is the beat reverberating, ricocheting around his skull.

He can put Poppy first.

So many parts of their lives are intertwined, it would be so easy to make it work. They work together, they live close, he speaks to her more than he speaks to anyone else in his circle. They’ve spent more time together as friends than he has with any other girlfriend he’s had.

He’s wanted her for years, of course he can do it.

Except, deep down, he knows he can’t. Being in a committed relationship with someone is an entirely different ball game to a friendship, no matter how close he and Poppy have been over the years.

He knows there’ll come a point soon into the season where he has to knuckle down and focus, can’t let anything or anyone distract him, and he’ll close himself off. It’s what he has always done. He gets in his head, starts to carry too much weight that he can’t shift until that final buzzer blows - and he can only hope that it happens with his team in the playoffs. Winning, thriving, succeeding. And for that to happen, he can’t prioritise anything other than the game he’s already dedicated his life to, his training, and most importantly, his team.

It isn’t about what he wants.

What have you done? He thinks, his chest aching.

Talia is right.

Poppy doesn’t deserve that.

She doesn’t deserve him only being there in the physical sense, if she even gets that at all. Doesn’t deserve him getting snappy and stressed, doesn’t deserve him not being able to give her time, or give her attention or affection like he wants to, or like she’s worthy of.

“I need to go.” He manages to choke out with a shake of his head, shouldering past her to pick up his jacket - needing to be out of this conversation and away from Talia. “Leave the keys, I don’t want you here when I get back.”

He needs to see Poppy.

He never should have left her - he wishes with everything in him that he had soaked up the time he had with her before everything came tumbling down around him. And somewhere deep within him, there is a fragile, wilting piece of hope that clings to the belief he can make things right. He just needs her to hone in on it. If anyone can reach into the deepest cracks of his insecurities, can show him he’s overthinking things and everything is not as hopeless as he has made it out to be, it will be Poppy.

Poppy

The first time Poppy had ever fallen asleep beside Nico was at a movie night in Jack’s old apartment he shared with Ty Smith. Jack had invited more people round than could reasonably fit in their living room, and so everyone was smushed in - each chair and every inch of floor space used to its full capacity. 

Nico had attempted to save Poppy a space, to give him credit. He had scowled at each of his teammates who tried to throw themselves down in the tiny slot beside him - prime space, corner of the comfiest couch, facing the tv directly, a small table to the side where one could keep their drinks and snacks - only, by the time Poppy got there, he had barely gotten away with man-spreading to make room, so the small section of the couch between Nico and the arm rest had become her designated spot.

It was cosy, to put it nicely. He had to swing his arm over the back so that she wasn’t being assaulted by the hard dig of his shoulder with every laugh, and her closest leg was pretty much on top of his for most of the film.

She’d known the guys for almost a year - had been working in media, attending every game, home and away, and had integrated herself into the group pretty closely - and she felt pretty comfortable around everyone.

It wasn’t the kind of dynamic she had anticipated falling into when she first got the job with the Devils. She was supposed to start getting serious about her life - cracking down on mingling with co-workers and throwing herself into new social circles, and focusing on building a career for herself, climbing through the ranks and attaining the kind of success and happiness she could shove in her family’s disapproving faces - but the guys had charmed her.

Jack had been somewhat relentless in his pursuit of Poppy’s friendship. He rarely took no for an answer when it came to inviting her out. He was new to New Jersey - a much younger player in a slightly older team - and his rookie season had been rough, so it came naturally to Poppy to want to provide comfort. She introduced him to some of her friends, showed him her favourite spots close to his apartment, found him a decent barber, picked up extra fruit whenever she went to the farmers market near her parent’s house and took it over to his and Ty’s place when she came back home so she could mother him into having his 5-a-day as if he didn’t have access to the best nutrition coaches in the country. Despite her best efforts, Jack had weaselled his way under her skin in the way only a brother could.

Nico’s charm was entirely different.

Nico’s charm came in the form of convenience at first - in the oh I live that way, I can drive you and I have some time, I can do some media stuff for you type of way. Convenience blended into companionship - I haven’t eaten either, we should go for lunch together and I’ve been wanting to watch that movie, do you want to watch it with me?

It turned into grabbing food together, even on days neither of them were working - breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, even coffee or sometimes drinks if they could meet up with the rest of the team. It turned into him spending time at her place, whether it was helping her paint her apartment, putting up her new wardrobes, or just binging whatever crazy long series Poppy had decided to start over from the beginning - she provided him with a sense of familiarity and calm he couldn’t really find in anyone else he had met in his time in the states. She became his person, his home away from home, away from home.

And he became hers. 

There wasn’t as much she had to escape; her job not as strenuous, the expectations of her not as high, but when things built up for her - when her mother became overbearing, or her latest endeavour into a relationship crashed and burned - Nico was there. He’d make sure she had a distraction, made sure she was looking after herself, and, in turn, would look after her as well. He made sure she got home safe on nights out, or when they returned from a roadie and landed late - he would always make sure to see her off into the comfort of her own home before he went back to his own. 

And that first time she’d fallen asleep beside him, he’d done the same.

He’d wrapped an arm around her to make her as comfortable as possible for as long as he could, and when the movie had finished - when her face was burrowed into the side of his chest, soft snores falling from between her lips - he gently drew her back to consciousness with his hand stroking at her cheek.

She’d been a little startled, hand shooting up to wipe at her chin and thankful she hadn’t been drooling on him - although with the easy smile he was giving her, she had thought he of all people wouldn’t have minded. 

“Movie’s done, do you need a ride home?” His voice had been low and soft as not to worsen her apparent disorientation, and his hand was still lingering by the side of her face.

She had nodded, blinking away her sleepiness, and working her way up from the couch and onto her feet, stretching out her muscles as Nico did the same.

The two of them bid their goodbyes to the rest of the guys, made their way together to Nico’s car, and he had driven her back to her apartment, chatting on the drive about work and training. 

Poppy had been cramming to prepare for her interview for the Foundation at the time - had been getting herself seriously worked up, staying up late, getting up early, barely allowing herself any time for anything fun - and Nico had seen right through her. 

He’d stopped her before she got out of the car, had held her hand, rubbing at her knuckles with his thumb, and had told her that she should get some proper rest, and that she was going to absolutely rock their world in her interview in a few days time. And, knowing she was going to ignore any instruction he gave to make herself some decent dinner and go to bed early, had ordered her favourite Japanese takeout to be delivered a good half an hour after she got inside, with a text that followed telling her to sleep straight after she had finished.

She’d never expected to drift asleep with him on Jack’s couch - had never expected to open her eyes to the sight of his looking so warmly back at her.

And she hadn’t expected the same thing this morning, because, as her eyes drifted open to the intrusive light peaking through the cracks in her curtains, it wasn’t the first time she had woken up.

The first time had been to subdued movements, a slight groan of her bed frame, and the soft pattering of footsteps leading away. It had been to a hushed voice, the creak of her bathroom door, the flush of a toilet and the uttering of a name she had hoped she would never have to worry about again.

Talia.

The rest of his words had been uttered in his own language, but that she could understand.

She had acted purely on fight or flight instinct, laying back and pretending she was asleep - although as soon as she did, she regretted it, her mind racing at the million and one other possibilities she could have gone with. Sitting up, waiting for him to come out and asking him what was going on being the most rational.

But when had she ever gone with the most rational thought?

She tried not to react as she felt his presence, felt the soft press of his lips to her skin, or the placement of her bunny in her arms. Tried not to follow him as soon as he departed her bedroom, beg him to come back and whatever was going on could wait until the proper turn of the morning. Tried not to get up and go after him when the click of the lock to her main door echoed throughout the empty apartment.

And she tried not to cry as she laid in bed, overthinking herself back to sleep, thoughts racing to the point of exhaustion, and hoping when she woke up again it had just been a god-awful dream.

But it hadn’t.

The spot beside her in bed is empty, not even a crease in the pillow to prove he was ever there - only the t-shirt of his she still adorned, the one that when she takes a deep inhale, still smells like him, and the distinct aching between her thighs.

She finds more evidence of their night together in the bathroom, where she undresses herself with sore muscles and glances in the mirror to see the spattering of purple marks forming on her chest and neck. Her fingers trace over them lightly, her fleeting touch bringing vivid images forth of his lips pressing to her skin, practically able to feel the pressure of her flesh being nipped and bitten again.

He had been so attentive to her - so in tune with what she needed and wanted, and so ready to give her whatever that may be. He’d been gentle at some points, and purposeful at others, and every little thing he did, he did it with sweet disposition.

The kind of man who treats a girl like that doesn’t just leave her in the dead of night with no good reason, right?

Her mind races despite her body going into auto-pilot throughout her morning routine. Her shower is over in the flash of an eye, she strips her bed, starts her laundry, makes herself some tea and gets herself dressed - all the while weighing out all the possibilities of what could have taken him away from her, and what she would be able to understand. 

That quickly turns to her imagining the worst, and a tight, constricting feeling starts to consume her chest. 

There isn’t a single part of her apartment she can get away from the thoughts buzzing around her brain - her kitchen marred with the memory of what had happened on the counter, her couch, her bedroom, her bathroom - all carrying distinct memories of Nico that she needs to bench until she knows the truth.

She mistakenly thinks her escape might lie in her phone. There might be a text there waiting, explaining everything and relieving all the anxiety that has welled up in her very core.

Nia’s warnings from the night before don’t ring quick enough in her mind as the screen comes to life, the immediate barrage of notifications flooding in.

2 missed calls from Mom

Mom: Just calling to remind you of proper table etiquette in case it has slipped your mind, I won’t have you embarrass me in front of a Lyon.

Mom: Cutlery going from the outside in, hold your wine glass by the stem and dab with your napkin, don’t swipe!

Mom: Also let the man tuck your chair in and pay the bill, this 21st century woman nonsense is very unbecoming!

Mom: And I don’t want to have to bring this up but for the love of God, Poppy, have some class. I don’t want to hear mutterings of your promiscuity at the next luncheon.

Whoever taught her mom to text deserves a prison sentence, she thinks.

Tucker Lyon standing a girl up and ghosting her attempts to contact him is what’s unbecoming, not her trying to pay her half of the meal.

She can picture her mother as she reads the texts, sipping on her Manhattan on the couch in the great room, her dad already having retreated to bed at that time, and her having nothing better to do than sit and stew on her daughter’s sex life.

If she knew what was really going down last night, her mom would probably have a conniption.

Knowing she’ll no doubt be getting a call later that evening, Poppy swipes away at her text thread with her mom, immediately checking the notifications she hasn’t long received from her best friend.

Nia: hey if you happen to release yourself from Nico’s wandering hands at all today me and Kelsey are grabbing breakfast by my work!!

Nia: if you need refuelling we’ll be at Marco’s at 9 😘 

Perfect. Therein lies her escape. Breakfast with her best friends, where they can hopefully talk her down from the ledge she’s precariously placed herself on.

A catch up with her girls, and then she can distract herself with work.

Poppy: I’ll be there!!

“Hasn’t he text you or anything?” Nia asks, covering her mouth as she chews on her breakfast bagel, the three girls sat around a table inside their favourite cafe close to Nia’s office.

When Poppy and Nia had first moved in together, they rented an apartment in Hoboken, not too far, and their tradition of grabbing breakfast at Marco’s carried on despite Poppy living further down the river and working even further away in Newark. 

Kelsey had lived in Manhattan at that time, but she stayed over so often with the other girls that she practically spent majority of her week there, and so Poppy and Nia’s routine became hers.

Poppy had given the two of them a brief rundown of her night with Nico, a safe-for-work version of events, all leading up to the mysterious early morning phone call and swift departure.

“Nope,” she sighs, swiping to refresh her messages as if she hasn’t put her phone on loud just to be alerted when he does reach out.

“Have you text him?”

“Nope,” she repeats, putting the phone down and leaning back in her chair, running a hand through her already messed up hair. She’s going to have to throw it up if she wants to look any sort of presentable when she gets to work later.

“Is he usually this pathetic at communicating?” Kelsey asks, manicured nails swiping at a bunch of Sweet’n Lows like she’s trying to play Tetris with the packets. 

Kelsey hasn’t met Nico before, not that Poppy can remember.

Despite considering her one of her closest friends, their personal lives have never quite intertwined like that - not like hers and Nia’s.

In college, things were different. They were coming into their own together, figuring out just what they wanted their personal lives to be, and so Kelsey, Poppy and Nia would all share pretty much everything, just to have someone there to validate their feelings.

But that changed once they graduated.

Kelsey moved in with her boyfriend, Liam - who just so happens to be Poppy’s idea of hell-spawn.

The kind of guy her mother would probably love.

Liam worked on Wall Street, couldn’t go five minutes of conversation without talking about stocks or investment funds. His native language was risky money moves and belittling remarks, and he treated Kelsey like an accessory to parade around in public and discard in private.

Poppy had tried a few times to open Kelsey’s eyes to the way that it was, but it soon became apparent that she had to let her friend make her own mistakes, and some parts of their lives didn’t have to cross over.

They broke up around Thanksgiving, and Poppy had tried with all her might not to show her relief, but it has made her somewhat resentful when it comes to other relationships - like no one can be happy if she isn’t.

She knows it isn’t malicious, but she restrains from letting Kelsey all the way in, all the same.

“Not really,” Poppy lies, not wanting to clue her in on the Big Freezewhere he didn’t speak to her for months on end. It doesn’t entirely help her case. “I just don’t get why he’d sneak out to see her of all people, he told me they weren’t ever that solid, that he wasn’t happy with her.”

“Ooh, what if she’s pregnant?” Kelsey is entirely oblivious to the horrific realm of possibility she has just opened Poppy up to, evidenced by the casual chuckle and subsequent sip of her coffee. “Maybe she’s back to baby-trap him.”

Poppy thinks she would have to flee the state.

Nico is a family guy - if Talia is pregnant, he’d force himself to love her again, if he ever even stopped, for the sake of their gorgeous brown eyed, floppy haired baby, and push Poppy to the side just like he had before. And she’ll have to watch him from the sidelines, yearning for what she had just managed to touch the tips of her fingers to before it was violently yanked from her grasp. 

Maybe she’d have to flee the country even - move somewhere remote where she doesn’t even have the chance of being reminded of hockey, let alone of him.

Somewhere with no coffee shops that she’d enter, and the smell of fresh pastries would remind her of all the breakfasts they had together. No railways, where she’d be reminded of his love for model trains every time she came across the tracks. No weird club music that he loves so much, or dorky wizard franchises he chastises her for never having seen.

Maybe Antarctica. They only have penguins there. No real civilisation that she knows of. No brown haired, dark eyed Swiss Gods with deep, honeyed voices that make her knees weak and dimpled smiles that do even worse.

She wouldn’t be able to cope with losing him like that, living her life in an endless mental cycle of what ifs and maybes.

“Kelsey, I beg of you to read the room,” Nia chastises, swatting the girl on her arm before taking Poppy’s hand in her own. “Don’t listen to her, she just wants us all to be single at the same time.”

“Sue me for wanting to have fun! It would be just like college, you and me full-body plunging into the dating pool. Imagine the chaos, Pop, you don’t wanna be tied down to a guy hung up on his ex right now.”

“Dating pool?” Nia scoffs, turning to glare at her, “You’re hardly dry from your last relationship.”

“I’d rather be a grape than a raisin, Ni.” Kelsey chides back, and Poppy can’t help the twitch of her lips at the horrific comparison. 

“You’re really gonna listen to a girl who says that?” Nia asks, unable to mask the glint of humour in her eyes, and Kelsey bites back a smile, too.

Despite the ache in her chest at the thought of any of it - of Nico leaving her this morning, filling her up with empty words and false promises, potentially knocking up an ex girlfriend he is still secretly hung up on even though he told her otherwise - she manages to crack a full smile.

“You are terrible at analogies, Kels,” Poppy tries to hide the grin behind her cup, sipping at her tea and letting the warmth of it soothe the pain in her throat. 

“I’m trying to encourage you to be a strong, independent woman here!”

“She is a strong, independent woman,” Nia defends, “She also happens to be a chronic over-thinker with a deep seated fear of confrontation.”

“I don’t fear confrontation.”

“Then why are we here chit-chatting about hypothetical scenarios when you could just text him and ask what’s up?”

“Maybe ‘cause that’s scary?” Poppy scoffs, only half joking. “What am I supposed to say, hey I just so happened to eavesdrop on your private conversation before you fled my apartment this morning, and despite me not understanding most of it, I definitely heard you mention someone, so could you just let me know if your gorgeous model ex girlfriend is pregnant with your perfect specimen baby?”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, you don’t even need us.”

Poppy rolls her eyes.  

She could text him. Could be casual about it, a good morning or even an are you okay? Those don’t warrant the alarm bells she’s afraid of raising - the ones that blare out with the siren sound of run, this girl is unhealthily attached to you already!

But she doesn’t want to be the pathetic girl chasing after the guy sending her clear messages that he doesn’t want her.

It’s easier said than done not to overthink the whole thing - not to second guess everything he had said, or everything she had done last night.

She feels like she had rushed things. It was so impulsive, so charged, and after spending the majority of her week away from him, she just hadn’t been able to help herself. And that makes her feel like a hypocrite. She had told him that night he had first kissed her that things between them had gotten intense. It had been the whole reason for spending a few days outside of each other’s company, and in the first possible instance, she had thrown herself at him.

It was desperate.

And maybe that scared him.

It sure as hell scares her.

“I don’t know what to do,” She groans, throwing her head into her hands and scrunching her eyes shut to try and drown out the endless doubt. 

She feels two hands rub at either sides of her back, “Listen, Pop,” Nia is the first to attempt to console her, as always, and Poppy holds her breath for the harsh reality check she’s about to throw her way. “You know I am the one person who would usually be trying to convince you to cut your losses and run when it comes to guys who are no good, but this is Nico. I’ve watched the two of you ignore your feelings for far too long to let you get in your own way, now.

“And you’re forgetting I saw him last night, before you got there, there isn’t a chance in Hell he would have left you like that without a good reason. I don’t for a second think he’s still hung up on her.” Nia casts a side eye to Kelsey.

The only problem is that Poppy isn’t sure there’s a reason good enough. Not when it comes to Talia. Not when the memory of those months of radio silence is still so fresh for her.

“I have to go to work in a building where his face is plastered everywhere, Ni, I can hardly forget his entire existence until he deems me worthy of an explanation. Who leaves after a night like that without even a note or a text?”

“An idiot,” Kelsey mutters around her drink, rolling her eyes when Nia sends her another death-glare.

“I’m not asking you to forget, I’m telling you to wait.” Nia frowns, but her tone remains consoling and warm. “You need to stop letting what this thinks,” she flicks at Poppy’s forehead, “Get in the way of what this knows.” She points to her chest on the left side. “You know him. You know how much he likes you.”

She does.

She knows Nico, she trusts him.

She can only judge him based on his actions so far - the ones that tell her that he cares. He leads with his heart, it’s his most attractive attribute. He’s gentle and loving and she needs to focus on those things over anything else.

“Ugh, corny,” Kelsey drags, and despite her repeated efforts to discourage her, Poppy knows she isn’t being entirely serious. “If he has any non-stupid hot athlete friends though, I’m first in line when the two of you kiss and make up for double dates.”

Guilt pricks slightly at Poppy’s chest - for making her recently single friend sit here and listen to her complain about something so monumentally small compared to the breakdown of the long-term relationship Kelsey had just endured. Even if it was perceivably toxic.

“You’d make such a good WAG, Kels.”

It’s a poor attempt to make up for it, but it seems to console her friend all the same, a giant grin breaking out and flashing her perfect pearly whites.

“I know.”

Poppy tries to distract herself with work. Tries to make her way through her inbox of seemingly never ending emails and her list of ever-growing tasks. She types up lengthy responses, puts together a presentation, makes a bunch of phone calls she’s been putting off for God knows how long, sorts all her invoices out - she even sends a fax. In the year 2024. It’s her most productive work day she thinks she’s ever had.

She zeroes in on the ground every time she moves through the building. Ignores the pictures that line the walls of the Rock, pushes down the memories of all the times she’s walked these very halls by Nico’s side, and she thinks she’s done just about enough to clear her mind for the time being.

She hasn’t thought up some heart wrenching scenario in at least an hour by the time she’s wrapping up for the day.

She’s making her way back to her office after dropping some files off for Elaine when she catches sight of a mop of curls over the top of the chair by her desk.

Luke is sat in her chair when she enters, swivelling around and staring at the ceiling.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick doing that, you know.”

“You’re such a mom,” he scoffs, standing up and clearly trying not to sway, “You ever tried having fun? I think I saw a glue stick on a table out there,” he points through the door into the wider office space, where there are a few, less private cubicles and a common area. “We should go sniff them, let loose a little.”

“Is that why you’re here on your day off? To huff glue?”

“Yeah, I don’t get to let loose enough. Being a rookie in the NHL is hard, Poppy,”

“Bummer for you.” She pouts, mockingly, swerving past him as he rounds her desk and sits on the other side, flicking at the bobblehead version of his older brother that stands by her computer. “If you’re chasing a high can you do it with one of the other departments, it’s not a good look for the Youth Foundation.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

When Luke had first joined the Devils, she hadn’t expected that she would warm to him the way she has - but, surprisingly enough, considering the fact they’re brothers, their relationship recently has started to mirror her and Jack’s.

Luke is funny. He’s sarcastic and a little silly, and it can be nice to have him around when work gets a little stressful. He doesn’t let the pressures of his own career outweigh those of hers, and, despite the gap in age, she actually enjoys his company.

But he never seeks her out like this.

Their interactions have always started through other people. Group conversations that dwindle to just the two of them, or he usually accompanies Jack to bug her and carries on when Jack’s ever-so-busy schedule takes him elsewhere.

She can’t think of another time he’s just shown up in her office alone.

Especially on his incredibly rare day off.

“Why are you actually here?” She asks, casting a suspicious but half-playful glare his way as she starts to pack up her things. 

“Came to see if you wanted to join us for dinner.”

“Aw Lukey,” she reaches over her desk to pinch his cheek, “I’m flattered and all but I’m a little too old for you.”

“Ha ha,” he swats her hand away, “Us. Me and Jack. Maybe a couple of the others if they’re free but you can pick where we go if you make a decision quickly, we were thinking a steakhouse.”

She narrows her eyes at him, expecting him to crack a joke about her being old, but he just looks back at her awaiting a response. “Why?” She drags out the question, her movements stopping completely.

“Maybe ‘cause humans need sustenance to live? What do you mean, why?”

“Why would you want me to tag along on your bro date?”

“Don’t call it a bro date,” Luke cringes, “Just remembered you were working today and we were in the area, don’t know why you’re being weird about it.”

“You’re being weird. You guys never let me choose where we eat. Don’t you remember that time we grabbed dinner when you guys drove me home and Jack told me to stop being a pussy about my seafood allergy ‘cause he wanted sushi.”

“Don’t blame me for the crimes of my brother, Poppy, he was obviously joking.”

“I had to eat tofu, Luke, I don’t find that very funny.”

“Are you coming or not?”

“That depends, how do you have your steak?”

“Well done.”

“Oh! Then absolutely not.”

“Remind me never to try to be nice to you again.” He scowls as they make their way out of her office, and she locks up behind the two of them.

“Gladly, it’s creeping me out.” She grabs at his elbow before he can carry on, stopping him in the otherwise empty common area where she knows no one is around to listen in. “Is something going on, seriously?”

Luke rolls his eyes, but she knows him well enough that it’s only done in an attempt to avert from her gaze. 

Bingo. He’s hiding something.

“I just thought you might want some company.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets and twisting his lips to keep from saying much more.

“Why?”

If Poppy wanted to spend her life getting a straight answer out of people for a living, she’d have become an interrogator. What is it with these guys and their inability to answer a simple question?

“Jack said you left the party last night with Nico.”

Poppy’s eyebrows scrunch so close together that she can feel a deep crease form between them. What on earth does that have to do with asking her to dinner? Or being overly nice to her?

Unless-

“You’ve seen him?”

“This morning.”

“Oh.”

All of her efforts from throughout the day seem to have been for nothing - an immediate rush of insecurities flooding her mind.

Where did he see him? What did he say? Was he okay? Was Talia there?

She feels like she can gauge an answer from the way Luke looks. Sheepish, almost, like he doesn’t want to say something he knows will hurt her feelings.

She had to have been with him. He wouldn’t just show up to her office like this if it wasn’t something that would seriously hurt.

She wishes she wasn’t the kind of person who did this - who filled in the gaps of conversations and always came out with the worst possible outcomes - but she can’t help it. She’s been doing it all her life, and there’s rarely ever an instance where her instincts have led her astray.

She knows it’s some weird part of her mind protecting her, but she needs to do something here. Nia’s words from earlier ring like a warning. Don’t let what her brain thinks get in the way of what her heart knows.

Her heart knows Nico wanted her. Knows Nico liked her. Knows Nico wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.

She needs to figure things out for herself and stop running, stop letting her mind fill in the gaps of a situation it can’t even comprehend to begin with.

She reaches her arms around Luke’s shoulders, stretching up on her tip toes to pull him into a hug before rubbing her knuckles into his curls, affectionately.

Luke Hughes is sarcastic and silly, and he cares enough about her to not want her to be alone if she’s going through something.

“Thank you for the offer, Luke, but I’ll be alright.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods, a tender smile tugging at the corners of her stubborn lips. It takes over her face, eyes glinting fondly and cheeks warming. 

“Yeah, you can walk me to my car if you’re that worried about me though.” She loops her arm through his elbow as they make their way to the parking lot, and when they get there, he makes sure she’s in her car and has set off before him and Jack leave.

As if her day can’t get any worse, the elevator in her building is cordoned off with tape and a sign when she gets home, and she has never regretted moving up a floor as much as she does when she’s trudging up 6 flights of stairs.

She’s exhausted. Emotionally and physically, and she just wants to throw herself into bed and pretend the last 24 hours were a terrible dream.

Only, as she rounds the final corner to get to her door, any hopes of that go straight down the pan when her eyes land on Nico, standing in front of her door with his hands buried in his jacket pocket.

He looks tired too - hair messed where he’s no doubt been taking his cap on and off for however long he’s been stood here, running a hand through the tresses until they’re all askew. 

His shoulders are slumped, and he doesn’t even greet her with that pretty smile he usually gives her.

His lips do curve up a touch - limp and half-hearted, not even enough for a dimple to form - but it doesn’t provide the comfort she had thought it would.

She feels anxious. A culmination of the day’s emotions washing over in one go. Sad, regretful, nervous, disappointed - all things she shouldn’t be used to feeling when it comes to Nico, but are all too familiar when she takes the last few months into account.

“Hi.” She gives a weak smile of her own.

“Can we talk?”

She wishes he’d have just said hi, back. That might have relieved the tightness in her chest just a little.

Nothing good ever comes of can we talk?

He steps aside as she approaches, maintaining a safe distance as she opens the door and enters her apartment.

The Nico from yesterday might have brushed past her, the graze of an arm or a lingering hand, but this Nico doesn’t. He barely even meets her eye.

He closes the door behind himself, watching as she discards her bag and keys to the console table on the side, and while she’s turned away from him, she tries to let whatever emotions need to come out cross her features where he can’t see them.

She needs to be cool about this, she thinks.

If she doesn’t get her back up, doesn’t get agitated, she won’t scare him off.

“Are you okay?” She asks once she’s turned to face him, not liking how he stands unmoving by the door. He hasn’t made any effort to settle in - his jacket still on and his hands still hidden in the pockets.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

She realises now that she can get a good look at him that the expression he wears is one of shame. Guilt. Apprehension. She needs to be careful and toe the line before he gets consumed by it, she realises.

She steps toward him a little, and he doesn’t back up - not immediately, not obviously - but he hardly welcomes her approach, either.

She doesn’t like feeling this way when it comes to talking to him - feeling uneasy and unsure, but there’s a part of her that’s tired of having to prompt him for answers.

He had been the one to leave this morning. Why can’t he just come out and tell her why?

“I’m alright,” she shrugs, not wanting to scare him off with the truth. “Super tired, though, can we sit?”

She wonders if he thinks about the same things she does as they make their way to the couch. Wonders if he can feel the scratch of her nails on his torso, or the brush of her lips against his, as they sit in the spot where not even 24 hours ago, their bodies had been intertwined.

He doesn’t sit right beside her as he normally would, and she finds herself missing the way his thigh usually brushes against her own.

She doesn’t know where to start or what to ask, and so she basks in the silence for a little - finding comfort in the fact that, despite the mess they’re currently in, they aren’t quite at the end yet.

But a part of her feels it coming.

She’d known it this morning if she lets herself listen to the rational voice in her head. As soon as she’d heard him say her name, as soon as he’d left, a part of her knew that was it, and maybe if she’d let herself believe it at the time - hadn’t talked herself down and convinced herself she was being irrational - she could have protected herself from all the ways this is going to hurt.

“I’m sorry.” He says, and when she looks up, he’s looking down where his large hands are now clasped together in his lap.

“For what?” She manages to choke out.

“Last night, I,” she digs her nails into the palms of her own hands to stop herself filling in the gaps as he figures out what he wants to say, but it’s no use.

He’s sorry for last night.

Last night, he made a mistake.

Last night, he was drunk, he was confused, he was just looking for something or someone to keep him occupied.

“I care about you so much, Poppy.”

That sentence shouldn’t be the one that fills her with dread, but it is.

“You’re my best friend, and I love you,” he does look up as he says this, eye meeting hers in an attempt to convey his honesty, but she sees more of the truth in his glassy gaze than she hears in his words. “This morning, I panicked, and I just needed some time to figure out what I want.”

No, no, no.

She’d rather he tell her what actually happened than do this. Than pretend he left because he doesn’t want her.

“I love you-,”

“You said that, already.” She can’t help the bite in her tone as she prepares herself for the hit. The I love you, but.

“You’re so important to me. Being your friend, it’s like it’s what keeps me sane lately.”

She chews at the inside of her cheek as she feels the tears start to well at her lash line.

“Poppy, I don’t want to mess up what we have,” he shakes his head as his gaze drops, dark eyes darting to focus anywhere but on her own, pleading and watery as she watches him slip away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You don’t think this is hurting me?” She feels weak as her voice breaks, “You don’t think this is already messy?”

She reaches out to take his hands in hers, digging in to unclasp them, to try thread her fingers through, but he doesn’t make it easy.

“Nico, I love you, too, you know I do, we can figure it out, you don’t have to run away from me.”

It’s a desperate attempt and she knows it is, but she needs to know she tried. When she’s sobbing into her pillow and crying herself to sleep tonight, she needs to know she didn’t just let him go without a fight.

“I can’t give you what you want, I can’t be in a relationship, I’m no good at it.” 

Regardless of what she had told herself earlier, about taking what he says at face value, and trying not to fill in the gaps like she does so often with everyone else, she can’t help herself. When he says, I can’t be in a relationship, he means with her. He can’t be with Poppy. He would be no good with Poppy.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you-,”

“No, you said before that you’ve wanted this for as long as you’ve known me, you don’t just wake up and change your mind, not after-,” Poppy starts to feel panic building within her like a flipped over sand timer. Rising and rising until she starts to feel nauseous, getting harder with each second not to jump to conclusions. 

The voice inside her that tells her he got what he wanted and decided it wasn’t for him sounds caustic and bitter, and if she hadn’t wound herself up so much about this whole situation over the course of the day - the past week, even, or the months before - she might have been able to fight off the way it so easily convinces her.

“I have to put the team first, it doesn’t matter what I want, I have to focus on them, on hockey.”

She’s too caught up in her own emotions to notice how weak he sounds - glassy eyes unable to catch the glint in his. All she can hear, all she can see, is the minute hints of a cover-up - that she isn’t getting the whole story, that he’s lying to her, and that the excuse he’s giving is cowardly.

He still hasn’t mentioned the call, hasn’t mentioned Talia, hasn’t explained why he left her, why he didn’t say anything, why he didn’t come back.

“And you didn’t know that before?” She scoffs, pushing herself up off the couch and stepping away from him, “I can’t believe you would do this to me.” She wipes the tears from her cheeks as soon as they fall, but she can’t rid her skin of the feeling that they were there, her flesh damp and sore.

“I know we took things a little too far last night, but that doesn’t mean-,” She almost thinks he notices how bad that hurts her, referencing the night they shared as a mistake - an instance where they got carried away, and not where they followed through on years worth of built up tension and adoration for one another. She doesn’t even have to fill in the gaps, this time. Took things a little too far is clear enough. “We can still be friends. I want to be friends.”

“Friends?” Poppy jeers in disbelief, turning completely away from him now and missing the tears that drop from his own cheeks - missing the way his chest cracks and stretches open in a last ditch demonstration of his vulnerability, his desperation not to lose her completely. “You should go.”

“Poppy,”

“I can’t,” she tries so hard not to cry, knowing she won’t be able to stop, but the words come out in a choked sob, and her voice carries on in the whiney way she always hates. “You told me you wanted more, you said I was yours, and I’m supposed to just act like it never happened? Just accept you didn’t actually mean the things you said?”

“I meant them,” he says, defiantly, so sure of himself that it makes her head spin. “I wouldn’t-,”

“No, you didn’t. You’re a liar. You were either lying then, or you’re lying now. I don’t know which is worse. I can’t be your friend. I can’t pretend like you can that I don’t feel the way I feel.”

“Please, Mohn,” His fingertips just manage to reach out to land on her forearm before she shucks him off, wincing as if his touch has pained her.

“Don’t.” She takes an immediate step back, arms crossing over herself as a defence mechanism, body language screaming at him to go away, and she watches his pleading eyes drop to her arms just as she feels the cold of the metal there - so in tune with her every thought despite his denial of their true connection. Her arms move before her mind can make the decision, before it can remember what even sits on her skin, and her shaking fingers fumble to unclasp the jewellery adorned on her wrist. “You should take this back.”

Nico shakes his head, stepping back and away from the outstretched hand that holds her gemstone bracelet like it’s an actual danger to him. “No, that’s yours, Poppy.”

“I don’t want it.” She knows she’s the one that’s lying now. She wants the bracelet. She wants him. She doesn’t want him to leave. She wants to be his friend over being nothing. 

But she doesn’t want to hurt.

Looking at him hurts.

Remembering last night, remembering their kiss, the things he has said, the things he has done, it all hurts, and she can’t keep hold of a constant reminder of the pain, can’t wear it on her person at all hours of the day just to know deep down that the man who gave it to her will never want her the same way.

“I want you to leave.”

“Please,” he begs again, head tilting as devastation floods his features, brows pushing together, tears welling at the corners of his eyes, “We need to talk about this-,”

“No, you were right, we went too far, it was a mistake.” Her voice breaks as she says things she knows she doesn’t mean, but he’s already put it out there, so she doesn’t see the harm in echoing his own opinions. “There’s nothing more to talk about.”

She can’t look at him anymore, and so she drops her gaze to his hands, stepping and reaching forward and forcing him to take the bracelet from her before she rounds the couch and heads to the door.

If he isn’t going to give her the whole truth, she isn’t going to entertain part of the story, and she needs him gone so she can give in to the way her body wants to fold in on itself.

It takes him a minute to gather himself, but she refuses to look his way, waiting by the open door to her apartment and staring at the floor in front of her until his shoes appear.

“I do love you, Poppy. I’m leaving because I don’t want to upset you any more than I already have, and I’ll give you space if that’s what you need, but I’ll be here when you want to talk about this. I mean it when I say I can’t lose you.”

 She doesn’t say anything. She can’t say anything.

There’s a stabbing pain that’s building and building in the centre of her chest, and she doesn’t even think she can breathe in his presence.

He clasps a hand around her upper arm, and leans into her, his lips pressing a firm kiss into the crown of her head, and he lingers there for a moment before he retreats. 

She manages to push the door closed behind him, the click of the lock louder than ever, and waits a good few minutes in silence before her body is wracked with a silent sob.

The one time she had tried to be brave and fight her own intuition, and this is where it gets her.

So much for Nico wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.

Next Chapter

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

[secondhandsorrows]

Keys to Crafting Characters Readers Will Root For (w/ some examples)

As a writer and while making up this blog, I’m quite adamant that characters are just as important (if not more) as plot. In the grand scheme of things, an active, relatable, and engaging main character is crucial for a novel's success. But how exactly do we make a character all these things? There’s many ways, in fact. It is up to us as authors to keep track and manage the developmental arc of our protagonist: primarily, who they are on the inside, and how they grow or change / adapt to the situations or people around them. 

Here are some examples and tips to help you develop a compelling protagonist (or all kinds of characters). Keep in mind these tips are at their most basic, essential level (there’s just so much that can be explored in each one), so I hope to go further into each point sometime in the future. 

~`* They have clear goals and motivations.

First things first: you’d want to clearly define your character's goals and motivations — and the sooner, the better. Proper and well-set goals and motivations provide a sense of direction to the narrative. They should be specific, measurable, and achievable — or perhaps, not achievable, at least to its fullest extent. This would ultimately depend on the type of arc or ending you intend to write for your story, but there should at least be some main goal the character is vying for, and a motivation that dictates how much they want or need it. 

For example: An aspiring actress hoping to make it to the stage and audition for the lead role in her favorite play.  —> Why does she want to be an actress so badly? What does it mean to her to act in her favorite performance? What does she have to prove, to herself or others?

~`* They are flawed, yet relatable:

I’m sure you’ve all heard this before… but I’m still going to reiterate:

Your character should have relatable flaws that readers can sympathize with. It’s no secret that flaws make characters human and relatable. Flawed characters help us remember that nobody’s perfect, and that we’re not alone in our struggles and in our plights (stay back, Mary Sues!). These flaws can be anything, from fears, limitations, biases, misbeliefs, quirks, shortcomings, or behaviors. It’s useful two have at least two: a minor flaw and a major flaw, where the former affects only the only character and nothing else, and the latter hinders the character and affects the plot. 

For example: A highly-knowledgeable yet socially awkward and oblivious professor who can hold a bar of soap better than a conversation.  —> Does this flaw make him out to be charming or weird to others? How can his social-awkwardness affect the plot… does it hinder him from connecting to his students or colleagues? 

~`* They have unique talents or interests.

Sometimes I read a story, and personally I have a hard time connecting with a character if all they care about from beginning to end is what’s happening in the plot. It’s like they exist for the sole purpose of the plot, and are nothing but a shell to see through the events or its challenges. This is understandable, especially when it’s an action-packed story or thriller. 

Personally, I can’t help but wonder what its main character does for fun. What they’re like before the events of the novel. 

I think it can be useful your character skills or interests that set them apart. This not only makes them interesting, but can drive the plot in unexpected ways. *Bonus points if they have a particular skill or hobby that conflicts with the way they present themselves to others, or if they hide it well if they are embarrassed by it or afraid of getting judged. Essentially, this is all to clue-in on the reader to the character’s backstory, their personality. It helps them seem more individualistic, like humans with their own sets of interests or ideas that give them more complexity and uniqueness. This can also be useful in creating parallels or connections to your story’s themes or your character’s arc. 

For example: A brave warrior with an aptitude for gardening and flower arranging.  —> Seems random, right? But what if this warrior had workin in their relative’s flower shop, and has kept the skill alive in their days of battle to see pieces of beauty around them, hope from fear and danger? They might dig graves of their fallen friends and leave behind flowers in remembrance. Just an obscure  example, but see all the possibilities something like this can open up?

~`* They have deep, complex relationships.

Sometimes we can get a better idea of a character when we see them interact with the people around them. It’s like showing vs. telling, where we get a firsthand look at how the main character treats his family members, how he accepts or refuses help from those he’s close with, what he appreciates most about his significant other, how he feels about the annoying neighbor next door. Who’s the one person they most admire and never want to let down? Who’s the one person they despise with all their body and soul? Whether it's friends, family, enemies, or romantic entanglements, complex interactions and relationships add layers to your character and in how they showcase themselves to the world. 

For example: An excellent, compassionate therapist with a strained relationship with his own family member.  —> How does this character feel about this kind of relationship? Does it stem out of shared family troubles, or something deeper? Is there a glimmer of possibility the therapist might reconcile with this relative, or are they dashed because of mutual pride or distrust? 

~`* They often face moral dilemmas.

It’s time to get philosophical. Human nature is full of paradoxes and tough moral questions, and so characters with conflicting qualities can be intriguing and relatable. Introduce moral dilemmas and conflicting values that force your character to make tough choices and confront their conflicting values. Do they have a friend with conflicting beliefs that challenge their own? Are they forced to act a certain way because of external pressures? Are they forced to choose between saving one person while destroying another? 

No matter how serious this dilemma is, you can also add a moment of clarity or self-awareness for your character. This can be a turning point where they acknowledge and confront the conflict within themselves, thus becoming face-to-face with their internal crisis and how they decide to go from there. Do they weigh the pros and cons considerably, do they fumble because they’re hesitant, or do they embrace the new changes? 

Despite conflicting values, make sure your character's behavior is consistent with their established personality. Consistency helps maintain authenticity and keeps the character grounded. 

For example: A scientist torn between protecting humanity and the pressure of making a groundbreaking discovery.  —> How does making this discovery very important to this character? What do they stand to lose… what do they stand to gain? Are they at the risk of becoming something completely opposite of who they were at the beginning of the story, losing their sense of morality or forced to choose a side? 

~`* They show their quirks and habits.

Introduce quirks or habits that make your character memorable. These little details can make the character more relatable and interesting, because just like talents or hobbies, this can also give a clearer sense to the reader of what kind of personality the character has and what they’re like. Not to forget, it also helps them to stand out from other characters on the page, giving them a unique voice with their kind of dialogue, their behaviors, style, and mannerisms.  

For example: A scholar who can focus only if she’s chewing gum or wearing her lucky ring.  —> How might’ve this character started this habit or tradition? Does it actually work? Does it not work, but they still do it anyways because it’s comforting for them? Also, where did they get this quirk from?

~`* They have a backstory.

Most of what we’ve been discussing in this post already leaves some framework for the character’s backstory. It’s important to have a meaningful backstory in mind that influences the character's present actions and explains why they are they way that they are. This adds depth and helps readers understand their fears, desires, and motivations better; not shallow and two-dimensional as cardboard cut-outs. 

Sometimes we don’t get a backstory for our character right away. Backstories takes time to brainstorm and shape — let alone into a complex or compelling one — but its helpful to trust the process. What you can do if you’re still looking for the right one, is to ask yourself questions  on things that matter to you most. This pertains to your story’s themes and other main ideas you may like writing about, such as grief or family matters. It all boils down to who your character is (the present), and where it stemmed from (the past). If we take this a step further: does this backstory guide them or force them to make changes within themselves, thus leading to their changed self at the end of the novel/series (the future)?

For example: A woman with a fear of marriage because she’s seen firsthand its faults, including her own parents’. —> Is her parents’ divorce still something she’s struggling to come to terms with? Is her misbelief equating marriage to constant conflict? Does she have a secret desire to get married, yet it put off by its pressures? Does she make up for this fear by focusing on other matters? Will this fear later be disproven?

~`* They are often vulnerable. 

Every hero needs vulnerabilities. Imperfections. Weaknesses. We’ve talked about strengths and flaws before, but giving them that dent in their armor, any little opening someone or something might get through, leaves a reminder that no one, especially our hero, is invincible. Nobody’s perfect, after all (side-eyeing you, Mary Sues…). Make your characters messy: adding vulnerabilities helps makes them more authentic and genuine, opening up chances for them to learn and evolve as the story moves along. 

It can also add a layer of suspense to the story, especially in conflict and tension. How will the character handle someone breaking their walls down, or a bad experience threatening to make them crumble and fall back to old habits? How do they handle their insecurities? How well do they hide their fears, and will they ever admit them?

For example: An old woman with bad eyesight and lives alone can’t tell that the reluctant robber breaking into her home is not her grandson.  —> This is a fun little example that opens up many possibilities. Her bad eyesight is a physical vulnerability, and so is her soft spot for her supposed grandson. The robber notices this, and he too may have a soft spot for any old woman who treats him kindly. Does he use this to his advantage to rob the house, or does he humor her for a while?

I’d definitely like to expand on these tips sometime. If there’s anything you’d like to share or add, please do so! I’d love to hear y’alls thoughts. Hope this helped!

[dnickels]

"The house is a character" goes without saying, on Ghosts and other shows about people trapped in an old crumbling house that hates them (by God, is that Julian Fellowes' music?), but Ghosts makes good use of the house as a site of contention. It is a very old pile of bricks and masonry in disrepair, that's what it is, but it means to various people-- who live in, who live around it-- is a much thornier issue. Robin, who predates it by millennia, doesn't really give a shit, and to Allison and Mike by the end of the first episode its a huge liability they would bulldoze if given the chance. A windfall, an asset, a stone around their necks etc. But to the people who lived there it was/is a world unto itself. We get to see just how much history that place has, which is a meaningless thing to say, because any square foot of Earth outside of Antarctica has untold millennia of human history, but its a history that's real and alive and present because people remember it, and live out that remembering.

Who does it belong to? Legally to Allison and Mike, by the vagaries of fortune and inheritance law. But what does it mean to try and share the place where you live, currently, with centuries of past inhabitants? The show makes the issue literal but its an ideological struggle that happens constantly when it comes to preservation. People do have to live. Not every beautiful old building can be preserved as it was forever with no changes or updates, although it doesn't stop me from wincing when a new block of 5 over 1s goes up. If you wanted to talk about the long arc of the show, its from episode one where the Ghosts can only watch in horror as the wrecking crew comes in to the last (penultimate?) episode where they make a negotiated peace with the idea of change. (I haven't! Not a golf course! Allison noooo its so bad for the environmeeeeent etc).

I am a little surprised the blue plaque issue got such a brusque treatment-- I was wondering when the Coopers would come up against whatever local heritage society objects to them putting in modern plumbing, or tearing out the old lathe-and-plaster, to say nothing of the government agencies who hand out historic protections etc. But on the other hand, maybe the history of the house feels "more important" than it is because we, the audience, got to experience it so closely. Yes it was the site of a duel, a witch-burning, a murder, a WW2-era weapons development project, a plot to murder Queen Elizabeth-- but so were lots of places. It's not, in the grand scheme of things, an especially important house and yet it means so much! What do you mean, Cap doesn't get a blue plaque for having a very minor homefront position from 1939-1945! What do you mean Fanny doesn't get a memorial for being pushed out a window! Those are my friends!

There could have been a season-arc about someone outside the house trying to 'save' it, make it into a museum etc, but maybe that would be a more byzantine and thorny issue than the half-hour penis joke format would allow. I do still cringe whenever they sell off pieces of 'the collection', or destroy a painting etc, but the point is that its not a collection-- its furniture. People are still living on it, using it, etc. i do hope that any future plans (in the canon of the show) include some kind of way for people to learn about the ghosts' stories-- Allison could write one hell of a book, though how she would source it is a nightmare to think about. But maybe its for the best that the house doesn't become a stagnant museum that's locked up at night. If nothing else, the ghosts would get bored again.

[celebduwen]

TWI volume 10 spoilers ahead (minor, non-main story/side chapter, not major plot point or anything at all)

Ok so it was a couple chapters ago now, but can I just mention how well the Hedault thing was tackled (at least in my opinion)

He practically comes out as aroace, or well, at least aro and like ahxownfowbfowb

He says that his lack of romance and that pesky sexual attraction doesn’t take anything from his life, but enriches it, lets him truly focus on what he burns for.

Pirateaba did this scene wonderfully. Especially when another conclusion some people would have made, him being gay, is explicitly denied. They literally say (I don’t remember whom) “it’s okay to like men” (not verbatim) and he says that it’s not it.

This is the kind of representation that we (at least I) want, it says what it is, doesn’t feel the need to use terminology, which frankly wouldn’t exist for an identity that even our world, lesser and younger it may be, only was thought of to exist quite recently in the grand scheme of things.

It denies the “oh, not straight, let’s ship them gay then”

It says “putting this character in a relationship is the same as putting a canonically solely gay character in a straight relationship” in my mind. Even though that might not be the actual meaning of it I want to feel that way, for however much it may be worth.

A lot of our rep, (the stuff that is explicitly stated or implied and everything and whatever) is often just glanced over and people say “oh yeah, they’re gay now.” Yes you’re entitled to your ships, yes ships often just explore character dynamics (perhaps), but when you have so little, even in queer media, you start grasping at the little straws, even as they’re taken out of your hands by your bigger more well known and accomplished sibling.

[twistedtummies2]

Top 15 Portrayals of Mina Harker

As I said in my past list, the famous Van Helsing is actually NOT the main character of Bram Stoker’s “Dracula.” He’s the leader of the team, sure, but he’s more along the lines of Merlin in Arthurian lore, rather than the main protagonist proper. It’s hard to say who the main protagonist of Dracula is, really, since the structure of the book makes it rather ensemble in nature…but if I had to cast a vote, I’d probably say that Mina Harker (nee Murray) is the best option for that role.

I say this because, in the same breath, I would also say that Mina is one of the most maligned characters in all of literature, and certainly in the long history of Dracula. And not just in adaptations, either: even the novel ITSELF shortchanges Mina by the end of the book. In the novel, Mina is intended to be Stoker’s idealization of the “New Woman,” a concept prevalent in Victorian times: a feminist icon who is still good at heart, and still able to have feminine leanings, but is also just as competent, willful, intelligent, and interesting as any of the male characters in the book, if not more so. She’s one of the most proactive characters in the novel, as she and Van Helsing are really the ones who lead the charge against Dracula. She’s even the one who helps lead the other characters to the vampire in the climactic final chapters…yet despite this, she plays almost no role in the final battle against the Count. Neither does Van Helsing, for that matter. They just…kind of watch the other characters take care of things. 

On top of that - and this is something critics have pointed out many times since the novel’s publication - this “strong working woman’s” oh-so-glamorous job is…being a secretary. And Stoker’s cast tries to build that up as if it’s something to be REALLY freaking proud of, as if Mina is the world’s coolest gal because she’s so good at this particular job. There’s nothing wrong with that profession at all, of course…but I think most can agree that’s not really the kind of work that those in favor of the “New Woman” ideal had in mind, then or since.

These flaws are fairly minor in the grand scheme of the novel, I would argue…but one could see them as portents of the mistreatment Mina has suffered in adaptations and reimaginings since. Many versions of Mina depict her as little more than a damsel in distress; a much weaker character who ultimately is only there to be saved by the rest of the cast. Others take the liberty of crafting a romantic subplot between herself and Dracula; sometimes this angle CAN be interesting, if it’s handled a certain way, but I often feel it’s a total misunderstanding of the intent behind her character. Plus, it makes things difficult, since Mina IS a married woman (or at least engaged, depending on the version you look at), and I think most of us can agree that creates some questionable subtexts. Even her NAME is subject to mismanagement: in some adaptations, Mina is referred to as “Lucy,” while the Lucy character is swapped to “Mina,” which only confuses things more. With all that said, there’s no better way to look at how Mina has evolved over the years than for me to present the versions of her I like most from all the Dracula-related stuff I’ve gathered. (pauses) Well, actually, there probably ARE better ways, but this is my technique. So, having rambled all your ears off by now, let’s waste no more time: here are My Top 15 Portrayals of Mina Harker!

15. Agnes Moorehead, from the Mercury Theater Radio Version.

Moorehead, of course, is a fantastic actress, and her performance, on its own accord, is pretty good. However, the Mercury Theater’s treatment of the novel’s plot - which had to be highly truncated for time - means that the character doesn’t even appear till I think about halfway through the entire production. As a result, a lot of what makes Mina so interesting isn’t really present in the radio show. Still, hearing future Endora as Mina makes for some interesting listening, if nothing else.

14. Kate Shindle, from Dracula: The Musical (2011 Studio Cast Recording).

Frank Wildhorn’s musical version of Dracula has a LOT of problems, not the least of which being the way it treats Mina’s character. This is one of several versions that tries to create a romance between Dracula and Mina, and in my opinion the execution of this concept here is…well…not the greatest. Tie this to some of the musical’s other flaws (there are several), and you can see why she ranks low. However, I will give credit to Kate Shindle - an actress I admire greatly, who has worked on several Wildhorn projects - for her work in the role on the 2011 Studio Cast Recording, who probably made this role work about as good as anybody reasonably could manage.

13. Melissa Stribling, from the Hammer Horror Films.

Hammer’s first Dracula film, “Horror of Dracula” (as it’s known in the states), is quite possibly my favorite Dracula movie of all time. (“Favorite.” Not “best.” I will always contend that there is a difference.) With this in mind, I’ve always felt mixed feelings about Mina’s treatment in the movie. Actress Melissa Stribling does a very good job, and I will say this is one of the first versions of Mina I think of when I think of the character’s name. HOWEVER, her ultimate role is essentially just being “the housewife,” so to speak: she isn’t nearly as proactive as in the novel, and while she does START to turn thanks to Dracula in the film, we never get far enough to see the full contrast between her true self and her half-vampiric change, which I’ve always felt to be one of the most interesting parts of her story arc. Also, it’s worth pointing out that the Hammer version (for reasons no one can explain whatsoever) swaps characters around: everyone has their names right, but for some reason Mina is depicted as Arthur Holmwood’s wife, while Jonathan Harker is instead engaged to Lucy. One of many times where characters are fiddled around with for no apparent reason, as you’ll see.

12. Maria Rohm, from the 1970 Jess Franco Film.

Rohm’s Mina is one of the stronger versions on this list, as she is counsel to just about everything the men do in the story, tries to save Lucy from Dracula, and even interrogates Renfield at one point, nearly getting killed in the process. However, much like in the novel, she’s ultimately shortchanged by having basically nothing to do with the Count’s final defeat, and I personally felt still more could have been done with the character than the film ultimately tried. It’s hard to explain, but I just don’t feel I can, in proper conscience, place her higher.

11. CindyMarie Small, from Dracula: Pages From a Virgin’s Diary.

As I said on my previous list, in this surrealist dance-based motion picture, all of the male characters from the story are depicted as…well…creeps and jerks, to put things in the kindest possible words. As a result, the two primary female characters - Lucy and Mina - take center stage as the true heroines of the story. In Mina’s case, she proves to be the stronger lady, as - after being kidnapped by Dracula and whisked back to his Castle - she is able to resist the vampire’s temptation and actually helps the men take down Dracula. In fact, one could argue it’s really Mina who is responsible for the Count’s defeat; she doesn’t drive the stake through his heart, but the men could not have done it without her help. Ironically (and intentionally so), the men take all the credit despite this, and still treat Mina like a child or a trophy in the end. Ah, the patriarchy of Victoriana…what foolery…

10. Helen Chandler, from the 1931 Film.

Chandler’s Mina is arguably one of the weakest versions of the character on the list, so it’s probably surprising for many to see her so high up. Well, the fact of the matter is that I really like the classic Universal version of Dracula (despite the fact several elements of it have admittedly not aged very well), and - much like Stribling - Chandler is one of the first versions of Mina I think about when I utter the character’s name. In the Universal film, Chandler’s Mina is very much depicted as a damsel in distress; ironically, it’s LUCY who is depicted as more of a “modern woman,” despite smaller screentime. (More on that another occasion.) Instead, Chandler is more of the typical society lady: repressed, glamorous, and idealistic. Dracula’s corruption of Mina, turning her into a vampire and causing her to become attracted to him (in here not so much a love story so much as just another way of him controlling her), is symbolic of the vampire’s influence corrupting her innocence and the order of society as a whole. While this is totally NOT what Stoker’s idea for the relationship was (this is actually more what he tried to do with Lucy than with Mina), I do like Chandler’s performance. She goes through various stages, from a prim and proper young lady to someone more playful and sensual…and finally seeing her go into vampire mode, where she behaves more like an animal than a human being with a deeply unsettling, predatory slowness that really plays into the idea of the undead. Not accurate at all, but very unique.

9. Lupita Tovar, from “Spanish Dracula.”

For those who don’t know, the “Spanish Dracula” is the colloquial reference to the Spanish-language version of the classic Universal film from 1931. Due to the technical and budgetary standards of the time, whenever a movie like this was going to be released to other countries, instead of doing dubbing or subtitles, studios would basically just make the film all over again, using the same sets and often a lot of the same costumes, but now with a different cast and crew all speaking that language. Tovar’s Mina - or “Eva,” as she’s called in the Spanish version - is honestly more interesting than Chandler’s. Tovar’s Mina is more vivacious, youthful, and has a sort of fiery quality to her performance, which becomes downright manic and feral when she goes into vampire mode, making for a more memorable character, in my opinion. It’s the same basic character, but much less “stiff.”

8. Minnie Mouse, from Disney’s Dracula, Starring Mickey Mouse.

Here’s a shocker for you: this might be one of the most book-accurate Minas, in some ways, on this entire list. No joke. One of the things I love about the graphic novel version of “Dracula Starring Mickey Mouse” is that the people who made it clearly loved the original book and gave it a VERY thorough read. A lot of the humor and intrigue in the comic comes from stuff that you will only get if you actually read the original book. Case in point: Minnie makes for a PERFECT Mina Harker, as, like Mina, Minnie - by typical default - is able to be romantic and sweet, but is also perfectly capable of standing up for herself and won’t hesitate to give somebody a piece of her mind if she needs to. She has the same role in the storybook version, which is only appropriate.

7. Greta Schroder, from Nosferatu.

It’s weird that the Mina character from the very first true Dracula film (not counting the lost film “Dracula’s Death,” which is a whole other can of worms) is still one of the best, in my opinion. In the 1922 German Expressionist classic, the Mina character is “Ellen Hutter,” the wife of Thomas Hutter, the Jonathan character. She is once again the main character; a woman pure of heart (film’s words, not mine), who is tormented throughout the film by the vampire’s powers. Yet she struggles on, determined to find a way to destroy the vampire herself, ignoring her husband’s fears. Eventually, she finds out the only way to defeat Orlok (Dracula) is to sacrifice herself, and does so to save her hometown. Admittedly, she’s also shown fainting about…five times throughout the picture, but to be fair, if I had to deal with a vampire like Orlok, I’d have trouble staying conscious, too.

6. Ellie Beaven, from the 2006 BBC Radio Version.

Honestly, not sure what to say about Beaven’s work in the BBC Radio version. (Obviously, no, she is not in costume for Mina in this image, but she certainly looks like she’d fit the bill there.) I just think she does a really good job, plain and simple. Also, this is one of two versions I’m aware of where Mina and Lucy are depicted as being sisters, instead of just being best friends. Doesn’t really impact the story, but the other one was also made by the BBC. You may now insert the “If I had a nickel” meme here, if you care to.

5. Winona Ryder, from the 1992 Film.

I really struggled with where to place Winona Ryder’s Mina in the ranks here. Some people will probably think she’s much, MUCH too high up, while others will think that, despite making the Top 5, she’s too far down. I actually used a method a friend suggested: looking at the highest placement I could put Ryder’s Mina at for me, and the lowest I felt was earned, and finding the median between them. That median just so happened to be either 5th or 6th place, and between Ryder and Beaven, I do think I prefer the former SLIGHTLY (though, once more, I'm not sure why), so fifth place it was. Ryder’s Mina tries to combine the strong, independent, capable, charming lady from the book with a raw, sexual edge and a romantic daliance with Dracula, and…in my opinion, the result is something of a mixed bag. As popular as this film is, and the way Mina and Dracula’s romance is depicted, I actually feel the writing is clumsy on Mina’s part, in terms of her motivations and the way her relationships with other characters are depicted. HOWEVER, I think that Winona Ryder gives one of her absolute best performances in this movie, and her work as Mina is probably the first performance of hers I think of when I think of the actress. She manages to maneuver skillfully through the clutter and creates an interesting character to watch as a result. Ultimately, Number Five just felt like the best balance between the pros and cons for me.

4. Kate Nelligan, from the 1979 Film.

When it comes to versions of Mina who have a romantic daliance with a more sympathetic Dracula, I think Kate Nelligan was the first…and I would also say that she was the best. I should point out, on that note, that this film is one of the ones I mentioned before where the names of Mina and Lucy are switched: Nelligan’s character is NAMED “Lucy,” but the actual character HERSELF is clearly meant to be Mina. Apparently, this change was made simply because the writers liked the name “Lucy” better, which…is a bit of a dumb reason, in my opinion, as it just makes things more confusing, but whatever. I’m going to continue to refer to the character as “Mina” here, for consistency’s sake. In my opinion, Nelligan’s version succeeds at what the Ryder version (among others) would later try to accomplish: depicting Mina as a strong and competent woman who can stand up for herself and has full agency in her life, while also creating some interesting tension by having her form a romantic attachment to Dracula, and ALSO still having her relationship with Jonathan ongoing. How did they do this? Eh, watch the movie yourself to find out and see if you agree; I haven’t got time to go through it all here.

3. Isabelle Adjani, from Nosferatu the Vampyre.

Just like our previous pick, this version once again reverses character names, with this character being called “Lucy,” even though the actual role is clearly that of Mina, and vice-versa. It also came out the same year as the previous pick, 1979. (Again, insert “if I had a nickel” meme here.) This remake of “Nosferatu” (the first of no less than three, the other two of which have yet to gain public release) expands on the version found in the original film, showing even more of the character’s struggles as she tries to combat the vampire, even having her directly confront Dracula at one point. Interestingly, Dracula is depicted as a sympathetic character in this one, but he and Mina do NOT have a romantic interest in one another; that’s very rare in adaptations. Just like in the original version, Mina ultimately sacrifices herself to stop Dracula, and since Dracula is depicted as a sympathetic antagonist as well, that makes the ending all the more tragic.

2. The Version from The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

If there’s one way to make Mina independent, it’s to completely separate her from the rest of the cast in “Dracula.” I’m talking about the comic version here, by the way, not the one played by Peta Wilson in the 2004 film adaptation. While Wilson’s Mina isn’t BAD, per say, she is…very, VERY different from the one in the Alan Moore comic series. In the original comics, Mina is actually the leader of the titular League. She has no powers in the comics, but is instead depicted as a capable and charismatic leader, as well as a surprisingly gifted strategist; after her adventures in the novel, Mina has actually become an even stronger woman than before, and shows no fear in the face of opposition from characters like Mr. Hyde or the Invisible Man. She forms a unique romantic relationship with Allan Quartermain, and has some…COMPLICATED feelings in regards to her past, and especially towards the (presumed late) Count Dracula. Again, the movie version isn’t necessarily bad on her own merits, but the comic is definitely a more interesting character between the two.

1. Judi Bowker, from the 1977 BBC TV Film.

This TV production is quite possibly the most book-faithful adaptation of the novel ever put to the screen. By extension of this same fact, Bowker’s pretty-but-not-prissy Mina is quite possibly the most accurate interpretation of her character ever put to the screen, as well. The only major change for her character is that this is the other BBC rendition I mentioned where Mina and Lucy are made to be sisters, rather than just best friends, but this really doesn’t cause a HUGE impact on the story. Indeed, Bowker’s Mina even gets some slight IMPROVEMENTS from the original, as she and Van Helsing take direct part in the final battle, instead of just watching it happen like in the novel. Easily the best Mina onscreen, bar none.

[williamvapespeare]

This is a mundane question, but it's one I think about a lot for my writing and I'm dying to know your thoughts.

When you write the boys, what rules do you follow for how they phyasically interact with the world? (i.e. What do they feel when they get thrown real far? Can they physically feel each other? What do you do about their clothes?)

Happy New Year friend!

First of all, happy new year friend!! I hope you have an excellent start to the year and I'm so excited to be blessed by more heartwrenching boys content from you in 2025 <3

but this is such a good question!! i think my answer is probably kind of boring, but initial thoughts are that i tend to try and be vague about this sort of thing unless i really have to, because it allows people to read their own headcanons about specific world building stuff into whatever i write. most basically: the boys can feel each other and they can feel other supernatural creatures and sometimes supernatural objects if it is plot relevant, and not much else. that's definitely poignant for metaphorical reasons, like "i have only ever known softness from you and either violence or nothingness from the rest of my eternal existence etc etc"

one thing i LOVE doing is to put the boys into very specific supernatural situations where they're suddenly able to feel things for the first time since their death (it's usually bad things, i'm sorry lads). in the grand scheme of a life cut short is just a little angsty thing i wrote for a prompt (breaking point) but i put them inside the head of a dying child psychic, whose brain then (understandably) tries to fight them off by throwing them into various unpleasant memories. it was fun to show how they both had weird relationships to pain and discomfort and to think about the physicalities that most stood out (like, Edwin noticing Charles' eyeliner smeared over his cheek, which would Never happen normally, but not realising his hand is bruised because that's such a minor thing compared to being torn limb from limb?)

also i feel like clothes definitely change if theyre feeling particularly traumatised or something (LOOVE the charles gets wet and disheveled when he's feeling sad of it all!!) you gotta Tam Lin the boys sometimes...as a treat. but also, i don't have much of a personal hc about whether they can change clothes at will or anything...which i will defend with the fact that they probably don't think much about clothes normally because theyre so used to just being able to wear whatever they're wearing :P

Sorry for the rambles and thank you so much for the question <3

Director's cut ask game

[ravennaortiz]

Two Bullets

Chapter 5 of Countdown

As always this is an 18+ only story. This story is AU based and not your typical Sons of Anarchy story. Some readers may find some plot lines and changes to some characters to be problematic please read at your discretion. This story also time jumps heavily so keep this in mind as you read!

Warnings: General themes of the show such as violence, drugs, swearing etc, minor age gap, minor smut in later chapters.

Tag List @fleureeee

Jax sat in his kitchen in the early morning hours with Juice. Neither man had spoken since Chibs, Opie and Half-Sack had left a bit ago after finalizing some minor details in the plan to get Rocky out of Charming. Jax was starting to have second thoughts even though he knew it would be best for her to not be around here. He had to admit Juice and Half-Sack had brought up a couple good points that he had not really considered in the grand scheme of things.

Such as was it really a good idea to traumatize her into thinking that not only was she being kidnapped but that they had been killed? What would keep her from running away once in Santo Padre? What keeps her from trying to avenge the fake deaths? Jax sighed heavily before pushing away from the table and rummaging through a drawer in the kitchen. Catching Juice looking at him curiously he spoke. "Gonna write her a letter real quick for them to give her. Hopefully it'll make this easier and keep her there" explained Jax as he started writing. "What if it doesn't?" inquired Juice his eyes boring into Jax. "I send you and Half to track her and take her back" replied Jax after a moment. "Go bring her bags down here" added Jax as he looked at the clock on the stove. The club from Santo Padre would be here soon. Juice nodded before going upstairs.

Juice was uneasy as he grabbed her things. This was the kind of thing people don't get forgiven for. Although Jax had stated he would shoulder all the blame he knew Rocky would hold them all responsible. He wasn't sure he could handle that but it was better than the alternative like Chibs had stated earlier. Though Halfs question still echoed in his mind. What keeps the Mayans from double crossing us?

By the time Juice had gotten back downstairs Jax was done with his letter and a light knock sounded on the back door. The two men locked eyes before Jax stood up to open the door. "Here we go" he muttered as he turned the knob. No going back now.

***

"She will be in good hands. I have established go plans with my men in case any problems arise." stated Bishop as he sat across from Jax at the Teller kitchen table. The letter Jax had written in his hands. Jax nodded before looking over to Juice who had his arms crossed blocking the stairs that led up to the bedrooms. Juice was tense and Jax worried he wouldn't be able to handle this. Bishop followed Jax's gaze to the other Son in the room and assessed him before looking to his men who filled the room. He had planned who to send upstairs to grab and go but he was rethinking his choices given the body language coming from Juice. Kid wont handle that well he thought to himself as he stood up and moved towards Juice.

"Son, are you going to pose a threat to my men?" inquired Bishop quietly as he stood in front of Juice. Juice considered him for a moment before replying. "I don't know. Letting her get taken really goes against every fiber of my being. I thought I could handle this but I don't think so" replied Juice quietly as he deflated a little. Bishop nodded and placed his hand on the younger mans shoulder. "Understandable. Kidnapping goes against ours. I'm willing to change things up a bit here. You choose who can go up the stairs behind you and the rest of them I'll send outside to the vans to wait." stated Bishop as he turned to face his men as Juice nodded.

"My concern is she....is spicy" stated Juice choosing his words carefully. Rocky fighting against this was a real concern. She was not a damsel in distress and would not go down easily. Bishop nodded hearing what he wasn't saying. "My men can take a hit and control their response" he stated confidently. Juice relaxed some at that. "Those two can go upstairs" he said pointing at the two men by the back door. "Coco and EZ your up" stated Bishop as he motioned for the others to hand out.

***

"Stop worrying about your nose and fucking help me" snapped Coco at EZ who was on the floor holding his nose as blood seeped down between his fingers . Rocky was like a feral cat and it was taking all of Coco's strength to keep her pinned down on the bed and not injure her. The sound of the two gunshots only spurred her on. EZ stumbled to his feet and managed to grab one of her kicking legs making her yelp. "Careful man" growled Coco irritated with the prospect. "Fuck you. Your not the one with a broken nose" retorted EZ his temper starting to rise.

Rocky felt like she was suffocating and her vision darkened as panic rose higher. The fact these men had made it all the way up here and she had only heard two shots started to set full panic in. She stopped struggling as it dawned on her she was probably the only one alive. Coco felt the fight leave the girl and he loosened his grip some.

***

Rocky sat restrained in the van sandwiched between one of the Mayans who had gabbed her and another one they called Angel. She had no idea where the other Mayan was, she had caught him in the eye and groin when they got to the kitchen door. He had dropped her causing the other Mayan to stumble and she had gotten out of his grip and she had went sprinting across the grass before she was tackled and brought back to the van. Tears prickled at her eyes as she looked down at her lap.

[scriberat]

You ever have one of those days where you think, this might as well happen? Yeah. This might as well happen. It makes sense, really, in the grand scheme and small scale. I am one of five children, siblings I loved growing up with, and our parents loved us and each other very much.

But when your mom and dad save the city like every day is a ball—perfect synchronicity, powers combined like they were never separate, every punch and twirl a dance—and your siblings are doing their parts to take down minor supervillains, and you... well, you can almost do math okay and history kind of escapes you, and you never really got the deal with a lot of the science stuff—

I'm a fuckin' loser.

All those stories where the superfamily is going around doing their power things, and the one normal kid has, like, some kind of intellectual gambit that saves the day? Like a power of their own?

Lmao. Fuckin' loser.

So here I am, tied up, blindfolded, dark room that's cold and smells sterile, no idea where I am but I'm pretty sure I've been kidnapped by whichever supervillain left the hospital last month. It makes sense. I'm the non-powered kid so I'm an easy target. But I'm still their kid, right? So the superheroes are on their way directly into a trap.

Have you ever told your dad with pride that you finally scored a B- and saw the disappointment in his eyes? Ever sat in your room practicing clarinet, only for your mom to come in and tell you you need to study something useful, like geography?

I'm a fuckin' loser.

The world gets a little brighter through the blindfold, and I realize it's ransom note time. Welp. Time to get this over with.

There's one thing that was dinned into our heads as children, over and over again. The planet is the most important thing. Saving people for another sunrise, ending schemes and plots for another hour. Buy time, stave off the end, always prioritize saving as many as possible.

"Hello. So good of you to join us," the supervillain says. I recognize the voice. One of the... techy ones.

"What are you planning?" My mother. She's got a sharp tone, but I hear the calculations underneath. So she's already calculating the odds.

"As you can see, I have your daughter," the villain said. Oh. That guy. This won't shake out well for me. "I also have the entire subway system rigged to explode. You have a choice. Either save the city—"

Yeah. I'm screwed.

"—or your daughter!"

"Fine," Mother says. Her tone is final. She's made her decision. What happens next happens, and what she'll do—what I know she'll do because I was raised by her—is save the city.

I'm just one life against several million.

The transmission ends, and I sigh.

"Looks like she's coming right to our trap," the villain says, cackling.

"Nah," I reply. "She's not coming for me."

"I wouldn't be so sure—"

"I would." I don't care. I always knew it'd end like this. The city may see my parents as heroes, but for me, they were villains. I watched the light die in my siblings' eyes, one by one, my playmates and best friends and worst enemies and everything I love in the world, even against the planet. I saw them crack and break and become the tools my parents had them to be. I saw myself get left behind.

I'm a fuckin' loser.

"And why is that?" the villain asks. Worry, and tension, and concern. He's on the ropes and he knows it. Calculations only take you as far as the information flows.

My siblings are extraordinary.

"How many people are on the subway?" I ask. The villain admits he doesn't know.

"Your father must be on his way, if not your mother—"

"My father and younger sibling are tracking the source of your bombs. The others are doing the same or whatever." I never did pay attention. "Anyway. Shitton of folks, cars all packed. I traveled them to go to school and work, I know how many I saw and I can guess how many more there are."

"What's your point?"

"I'm one person. If you put one car in danger, I'd be abandoned," I say.

"But you're their child, their blood—!"

I shake my head.

"I'm just a fuckin' loser."

When we learned what it meant to be a superhero, we knew we would live our lives in danger. I knew my parents would be the death of us all.

I knew it'd shake out like this.

"You're dead," the villain says, with a similar note of finality that Mother had. I prepare myself for the end, but before I get far, the villain surprises me.

"We will forge papers and a new legal identity. I do it often for my henchmen. You'll legally be dead, and then you can have your choice of any place to live in the world."

"What are you talking about?" I ask. The villain sighs.

"My father... never saw me. Drank his depression away. I didn't have powers, but if I could reach the heights of heroes... Then I trusted the wrong person and got labeled a villain. All of my charity work is underground."

"Charity work?"

He tells me everything. Psych wards and rehab centers, staff vetting and revetting, charity auctions and mobility devices, and I realize that he made the wheelchair that got my friend up a mountain last summer.

"Why?" I ask.

"Why what?"

"Why do you do villainy?"

"Because I realized something. If people have a sun to worship, they'll love anything under that sun. Your parents fight me openly, and applaud my underground work for helping people. Those people see a terrible face and proceed to love the work of my hands. For them, it's about patting themselves on the back for being in the right."

I'm stilled. I'm... baffled.

"Your wheelchair helped my friend. We bought one for them as a birthday present because they always wanted to go up a mountain."

They was amazing, gifted with a silver tongue that talked us into and out of all sorts of trouble... when we could bring them along.

"Up a mountain?"

"Yeah. Thank you," I say. "It meant a lot to them."

The blindfold is removed. I look upon the unmasked face before me. It's twisted and scarred heavily. Chemicals, or acid. Bad, bad burns.

"My baby sister heals." My siblings forgot what pain is. Our parents refused to let us remember.

"I am fine with this. Truly, I will help you go anywhere in the world."

"My friends are here."

I'm a fuckin' loser, but that never mattered to them. I'm just me to them. Sometimes we forget that I have super parents at all.

"Then I shall look after you. How many?"

"Four...?" I count them off. He's nodding and sending glances to one of his subordinates.

We were granted jobs and a place to live, food to eat. It was fully accessible. It was perfect. I didn't know what to say. I'd never gotten more than minimum wage. I was a fuckin' loser.

But to these people, to my friends old and new, I don't have to be more than me.

You were the only child that didn’t have powers in a family of metahumans. Today you got kidnapped by a supervillain… and none of your family came to the rescue.

[amandapanduhreads]

2024 Book One - The Housemaid's Secret (Review)

Dates: 1/9/24 - 1/10/24 Pages: 318 Rating: 7/10

First book of 2024, and first book review on here! I decided to start doing some longer reviews on here so I can hopefully remember the books I've read, and don't have to ruin my wrist by writing them in my reading bullet journal.

I'll put the review underneath a cut because THERE WILL BE SPOILERS. Open at your own risk!

I read 'The Housemaid' in October, it was actually the first book I read on my Kindle. I had a free trial of Kindle Unlimited and had heard some good reviews about it so I gave it a whirl. I really liked the first book, so I immediately added the next two books to my library because I was sure that I'd read them both before my trial was up on January 11th. Obviously, some things came up and I didn't really read in December and then remembered that my trial was up on the 11th, and not the 24th like I had thought. So I started this one two nights ago.

At the end of the first book, there's an epilogue and I was really excited about seeing the continuation of the story and seeing Millie's venture into her vigilante life. Starting this book, I was excited to see who she was going to help next and how, but I'll be honest, I was kind of let down.

I actually almost DNF'd this book because I realized that it was the same formula as the first book rather than a similar continuation. Millie goes to help a woman, husband ends up dead, big twist, Millie ends up okay in the end. With only a few tweaks, that was the same case in this book. I was hoping it would still be similar with Millie helping women out of terrible situations, but I didn't think it would be so similar.

It reminded me of my thoughts on the movies 'Hereditary' and 'Midsommar'. I had super high expectations for Midsommar because of Hereditary, and I was kind of let down. If I would have seen Midsommar first, I probably wouldn't have set my expectations so high and been let down. If I had read this book first, and then the first book, I think I would have been impressed but coming from the first one and how everything came together, I was expecting more I guess.

I found myself getting so frustrated with Millie to be honest. Her pushing things off and sabotaging herself, it kinda got annoying. That's probably just a minor nitpick but when it all bit her in the butt, I was kind of saying a silent 'I told you so!' Obviously it turned out alright for her, but she got frustrating.

I also thought that the whole Xavier thing was a little pointless? With what ends up happening with Wendy, Millie would have been in trouble with the law anyway so it seemed like a random plot point to throw in. Sure, it helped show that Enzo was still helping behind the scenes, but there were also other things. It seemed like a forced plot point to cause tension that really served no purpose in the grand scheme of things. Honestly, if that whole storyline was erased, you wouldn't even notice.

I have to admit, I wasn't expecting Wendy to be behind all of this and pin it all on Millie, so there's that. After finding out the truth about Wendy though, I thought she was INSUFFERABLE. I know that's probably the point, but part of me didn't even care what happened to her because of how unlikeable and rotten she was. I mean at least in the first book, Nina had *some* redeeming qualities but Wendy had zero. If there was no closure with her, I wouldn't have cared.

The Marybeth plot twist was also out of left field at first, and I'll be honest that I thought Enzo had set her up to go kill Russell and Wendy. I was also so irritated when I thought Millie was going to go kill them, especially after the call with Detective Ramirez. I was worried that she'd go be impulsive and wind up in more trouble, but seeing it was Marybeth had me relieved.

Speaking of Ramirez, the whole "now you have a friend in the police department" thing was a tad bit cheesy to me. Sure, it probably helps set up the next book, but it seemed so cheesy.

Enzo is my favorite and I know he's technically not a good guy either, but like....come on. I will say though, if it turns out Enzo is actually not to be trusted in the next book, I'll throw a fish.

The whole ending with Millie ending up as the one who gave the heart medication was pretty good. I'll be honest, when Brock asked for his heart medicine, I did a bit of an, 'Ohhhhhh!' thing because I wasn't expecting it, but it was a good little tidbit.

Overall, the book wasn't terrible and even with the cheesy stuff, I read the whole thing. I'm still bummed out that it was just the same book with some different characters and a few more random bits. I honestly don't know if I'll read the third book, but maybe I will down the line.

To sum up the book, it reminds me of reading a Lifetime movie. You know it's ridiculous and corny, but you keep reading it all.

[gregorygerwitz]

I’m a useless lesbian so tell me about Erin, Hailey, and/or Kim in the hockey au!!! 🏒

oh god that's multiple people I have to figure out, huh? uh... I honestly hadn't thought about Erin and Hailey yet. in theory, they have a place in this universe, but it's hard?

Erin

I don't want to keep using the "Jay's girlfriend who left him" thing for Erin because, as much I use it as a plot point, she deserves better than that. I think she'd still have grown up around the Voight family, still had her teenage rebellion, still wanted to do something to pointedly distance herself from her mother and keep something solid under her, if that makes sense? I don't know if I'd make her do the whole Follow In Hank's Footsteps And Be A Cop thing tho.

It would be neat to see her interact with the law in other ways, though? Maybe she went to school, got a degree, isn't exactly a lawyer - because woah that's a lot of school and not quite what I envision for her - but like... I don't know where I was going with this. Maybe some kind of social service job? Maybe doing a community outreach thing? Helping teens who are in a rough spot like she was, running a substance abuse help center? Something like that. Still helping people, just without the badge, if that makes sense.

It's a rich boy Mouse AU, maybe she's loosely friends with Greg because one of her programs benefited from a charity gala one year and they're the same age (canonically!!!) so they ended up talking at the event and now they're Facebook friends and wish each other happy birthday every year and meet up for drinks every few months to catch up.

Hailey

Another difficult one. Because this is very much so a Moustead AU, not Cozy Trio (as much as I love them, I took on too much with YOTP this year and I feel burnt out, so I'm taking a break).

As much as I don't want to do it (because I'm already basically doing it with Chefs AU eventually), it would make a lot of sense, in this universe, for her to be a part of her parents' restaurant, in some way. Not in any meaningful way, at first, but maybe she's the one who suggests expanding? Buying a space in the little arena that the Mice play in and selling food there during games to make a little extra money for the business. And, because it was her idea, it's hers to run with over summer breaks and when she finishes high school - whether it succeeds or she crashes and burns with it.

So she knows Jay, very loosely? Because he was at practice for a few of her location scouting trips, and she was just a kid, and there's no games during the summer so he only saw her on scattered afternoons when he went to skate. She doesn't actually run the little outlet of the restaurant, so to speak, full time until the summer before Jay and Greg meet and start to get together. But like... they know each other's names? And he'll get a late dinner from her if the game goes into OT? They've talked and they're friendly but they're not friends.

Kim

I'm still figuring out the exact details of Kim. Because @fighterkimburgess mentioned that this could easily be an actual siblings AU (Greg and Kim as half siblings because Gregory's a whore), and they're right. And if that's the case for this AU, I want it to be closer to the Gerwitz Siblings AU instead of something where they meet later in life? Where they were kinda-sorta raised together near the end of their teens but aren't as close as they are in that one?

Because it's kind of obvious that Kim is only included in the family for the sake of appearances, and Greg is very clearly being groomed to take over the family business and, presumably, he's the one who will actually pass on the family name to kids (he won't, he's very gay, but it's cute that everyone thinks that), and she definitely falls off the public radar a bit more when she starts dating Adam Ruzek, a player on her father's minor league hockey team. Her decisions don't matter in the grand scheme because the entire family legacy isn't on her shoulders, so she's kind of lucky, in that respect.

She gets to date Adam, and cheer him on openly at games, and be happy. Unlike her half brother, who is closeted, and when he does start dating someone, he can't be open about it, and he can't just start suddenly showing up at games and cheering on the Mice louder than everyone else when he's openly frowned upon the fact that his father bought the team at all. Kim gets it easier, and she knows that, and she's thankful for it. (yes, Burzek is here, because it's me, but also because canon gave us them literally playing hockey with Mack and I was supposed to let the opportunity pass me by???)

[ ask me about the hockey au ]

[truemetis]

Kind of a minor point in the grand scheme of thing, but I want to note that "betrothal necklaces" aren't part of Katara's culture, she didn't even know that's what it was. To her it's her mother's necklace. And while it might be minor overall, I think it's important to point out when someone is complaining about doing a disservice to a culture, that they can't then do that very real thing where people take similar, related, yet highly distinct, cultures and treat them as the same culture. However badly it was handle that was literally part of the plot of one of the comics.

The issue is that you’re always giving Katara the bare minimum of her culture. In your AUs, she can’t have both a betrothal necklace and hair loopies - she either has to have one or the other. I couldn’t even tell that it was Katara in your Lee and Kya AU. I thought it was Jin.

I think it’s wrong to assume that anyone who has an issue with your Fire Nation Katara AUs are automatically jealous and bitter Zutara antis. Even having read all the context, your portrayal of Katara in the Hunters AU along with the caption makes me uncomfortable as a woc.

I know it seems like I'm always putting Katara, in specific, in an uncomfortable position. Maybe I am.

I love to explore what situations like those—being forced to hide who you are, always a foreigner, holding on to a single remnant of your identity (and doesn't that sound like Zuko?)—do to a character. I don't always get it right, but I don't think there is a right way to do it.

These are extremely sensitive subjects, I know, and they are important to me, too.

It is never my intention to make anyone feel uncomfortable with what I think or how I decide to express it. I'm genuinely sorry if I made you feel that way.

I love these fictional cultures. I love these characters. And I don't want to "give Katara the bare minimum of her culture", but putting her in a position, within the AU, where she is forced to have only said bare minimum has consequences that I feel compelled to explore. Not only with Katara, but also with Zuko, with Aang, with Iroh, with Sokka... They are all different characters and react to these issues differently, and that's so interesting to think about.

The Southern Water Tribe culture is dying. Katara's culture is dying, and my stories' intention is not to finish the kill—I want to see how, despite every single obstacle thrown in its way, Katara's culture survives. And if I have to let her keep only her necklace to do so, then so be it.

On the other hand, I never thought of you as an anti, nor was it my intention to treat you, or any other anon, like one. You have been nothing but respectful so far (am I right to assume you're the one who asked about Katara's cultural identity in the first place?), and I would be a hypocrite to demand said respect without giving it in return.

Antis are rude. Antis are spiteful. Antis mention colonizers and woc and domestic abuse without caring or knowing about what they're talking about. Antis tear you down to feel better about themselves.

I refuse to treat anyone like an anti unless they give me reasons to do so.

You are not an anti. You are a person who has legitimate concerns about how I tackle sensitive issues in my AUs and artwork. You disagree with me, and you state your reasons for doing so, because these themes are important to you, personally.

I don't expect anyone to readily agree with me on anything. My opinion is my own, with all the conflict and trouble it may bring me. But it is mine, and I will defend it. However, I'm also self aware enough to recognize when I'm wrong, and when I'm treading on dangerous ground.

Someone once told me I'm as neutral as a wall. They meant it as an insult, but I guess they're right.

Judging everyone for the actions of a few is not really my thing. I have only come across one single anti so far (fortunately). I'm not about to get on the defensive and start attacking everyone. Unless they deserve it.

[irenedubrovna]

A post regarding Euphoria for the benefit of myself and basically no one else

So, it really bothers me when people say Euphoria is groundbreaking, progressive media. Here’s a dissection of why I don’t think it is, because this is what I feel like doing at work:

The character of Rue is objectively great. She by far receives the least overt sexualization, and is treated neutrally in terms of active sexuality. She’s treated like a normal teenage girl with mental issues and an addiction to drugs. She falls in love with a girl who she pines for and places on a pedestal. The reason I think she is written this way is because she is a Sam Levinson proxy. She written with gender ambiguity and with little regard to the experiences she’d go through as a black gay female, probably because Sam Levinson has no insight to that aspect of life. Her performance is heightened of course by Zendaya, who breathes unique life to the Sam Levinson’s artistic extension, and without her performance this show would not get even half the acclaim it gets. Attribute that to Zendaya of course, because the director has done little to deserve this acclaim.

The rest of the females, sans Lexi, are pornified to a disgusting extent, not only due to the fact that they are supposed to be underage, but also because their existence as people is treated as being absolutely secondary to their sexual appeal. They are foremost presented in terms of their relation to sex. Cassie, Maddy, Jules, and Kat cannot be removed from their sexuality without disrupting the plot or their journeys in relation to the plot. Why are the females so intrinsically linked to uber fetishized versions of female sexuality, or uber fetishized versions of blossoming female sexual identity?

Maddy is presented not only scantily clad 90 percent of the time, but also dressed in a precariously unattainable sexual fashion. At any given time she is styled to look straight out of, simultaneously, a high fashion editorial, and a “barely legal” porno. She is airheaded and profane, and promiscuous, her mannerisms dictated by the adult films she’s “studied” in order to project an image of perfect hyper sexual femininity. She’s complacent in becoming a prototypical housewife because it will earn her a comfortable place as a trophy wife. She has no aspirations beyond that. So, let’s unpack all of that. Maddy’s role in the show is mostly passive. The most active thing she does in the plot is revenge fuck a man in the pool of a party. Nearly everything else she does in the show that is plot relevant is of someone else’s volition. Even less of what she in the show is related to anything other than a man. She is abused and then pressured into framing another man for said abuse. She has no agency as a character. The only notable difference to this rule is when she takes drugs at a carnival, knocks a pot of chili over, and calls her ex’s mom a cunt. Removed from her active sexual life and carefully cultivated aesthetic, she’s a trite stereotype of an unambitious girlfriend who gets treated poorly. I see people call Maddy iconic, but if she wasn’t gorgeous and well dressed, I doubt anyone would even think twice about her, let alone create fancams and Instagram pages dedicated to her. She exists as a plot device, and as pretty set dressing to build up the shows aesthetic. Her emotions are not well explored, her motivations are sexist, and she is often there to be demeaned, objectified, or to say a bad word. The most damning part of her involvement in this show is her episode where it is stated that she, as a fourteen year old girl, lost her virginity to an adult man, and it is stated she was in control of the situation. This is a dangerous thing to say about a character, to any audience, but especially a young one. To imply that a precocious young girl was in control during her first sexual encounter with a much much older man implies things that frankly border on rape apologist ideology. This show states this unflinchingly and with no further elaboration. If there’s one thing that tells you that Euphoria is a bad show, let it be that. Also, if there’s one thing that tells you about Sam Levinson as a person, and the way he views girls and women, let it fucking be that.

Jules is a young trans girl. She also likes to have sex with men as a means to “conquer femininity”. Scratch that, she likes to have degrading sex with older men in order to “conquer femininity”. This mindset is shown to be toxic, of course, but I think the problem with this idea in general is that there’s no deeper exploration for what this mindset means. It implies that she believes women are the sum of their intrigue and degradations. This mindset I can only assume would be a cultivation of dysphoria and internalized misogyny, which this series is absolutely not prepared to address in a tactful manner. Jules is a teenager with mental illness, trauma, and is undergoing an identity crisis. There’s something powerful in her character, something worth saying, however we only get trimmings of those meaningful things, and are ultimately left with a hurtful depiction of a trans girl because all of her musings on womanhood and identity are incomplete, and they fail to reach beyond the surface of their thesis statement. She wears colorful clothing, is overtly feminine and artistic in her presentation. Everything about her screams insecurity over her own womanhood. That is the crux of her character. Now, I think we should ask ourselves, is trans person who is insecure about their identity peak representation? Is this what trans people deserve? Is it “groundbreaking “? If this show was run by someone else, I might be inclined to say that there’s nothing insidious about this, but this is the guy that made Assassination Nation, so I think we know what he thinks of young women, the way they should be portrayed (that is, for the capitulation of a man) and realize his inclusion of a trans woman in his cast is no more meaningful than the inclusion of any other woman. Women to him are made to be categorized and should, at the end of the day, be easily palatable for the capitulation of a man. The device of having Jules being interested in older men and rough sex for identity reasons is transparent. Trans women are exploited and objectified with a similar fervor to cis women, the caveat being that they are “a forbidden fruit” of sorts to straight men. Jules is sissified, her presentation fetishistic. Her role in the plot is more involved. Her relationship with Rue is sweet, though toxic on both sides. She is ultimately betrayed, blackmailed, and snowballs into something of a manic episode, all well portrayed by Hunter Schafer, but I don’t think her inclusion in the show absolves it of any of its many sins.

Let’s talk about Cassie. Cassie is the Eurocentric beauty standard exemplified. She is the blonde haired blue eyed girl next store, and her boobs are of course always on display. She is notably promiscuous, something I say right off the bat because that’s how she’s introduced, as a so called slut through the words of the devil (Nate Jacobs). She is a girl with daddy issues, which we are all familiar with at this point. Her sexual boundaries begin and end at the whim of her partner. The terms of her consent are much like the terms of consent of many young girls brainwashed by society and the rising tide of degradation porn: everything is alright as long as you provide them comfort and affirmation afterward. You can touch them roughly without asking, you can use them as a tool to affirm your masculinity. This is the way men prefer their women now: just broken enough to say yes to anything they want. It’s become a joke at this point. Men like girls with issues, but only the ones that will feed their own desires. Cassie Howard is meek. Her inclusion in the plot I suppose ties to themes of drug addiction and how it divides and destroys the people you love. It doesn’t show what it does to her beyond shaping her sexual encounters, which is no surprise. Overall I’d say Cassie is in this roster of females as the most traditional categorically, in relation to how men view women and further how they sexualize them. She has a relationship with someone who doesn’t really love her. That mostly what she does here. Gets used. Doesn’t drive the plot or conflict much. More pretty set dressing. More aesthetics. How this show consists of so many women but is driven so much by men is unsurprising, and, again, very enlightening in the grand scheme of things.

Lastly we touch on Kat. I’d like to begin with the fact that self actualization through sexual exploration, in a show run by a man, is just a cloak for a woman to gratify the audience with her sexuality. Regardless of whether or not she is plus sized, this is overt objectification. She is on this show to be sexy. Beyond that, the fact that a minor using sex work as a form of liberation is disgusting. Whether or not she is portrayed as “owning” her sexuality is negligible, and speaks to the same mindset discussed with Maddy. Minors cannot fucking consent to sex, sexual acts, or anything within the confines of such. It’s crazy that this occurs with two different characters in such a similar way. It has echoes of “Well, she looked older..” and “Well, she wanted it..” or “She’s advanced for her age”. Never, not once in the events of the series is there meaningful introspection on what doing this kind of thing does to a minor. Moreover, these acts are explicit, and made clearly for sexual gratification. None of these things are absolved by the fact that she’s plus sized. If anything, her body type is fetishized in this context. It’s also another case of a “good girl to bad girl” transformation, which are archaic and, of course, sexist. With the rise of adult websites targeting minors for explicit content, this is even more reprehensible. Once again, in terms of representation, is this really what speaks to you as progressive? Groundbreaking? A girl gains control of her own narrative by having sex with lots of men. She gains control by being sexy. She gains control by dehumanizing and objectifying herself. No she doesn’t. Media controlled by men will tell this story to you thousands of times, don’t listen because she’s bigger than a size four.

ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS ARE UNDERAGE. ALL OF THEM HAVE EXPLICIT SEX SCENES, EVEN THE SEXUAL ASSAULT IS MADE CINEMATICALLY PORNIFIED. THESE SHOTS ARE MADE TO BE OBJECTIVELY SEXY. THIS IS NOT A CASE OF SOMEONE CREATING SOMETHING FOR THE SAKE OF REALISM. IT IS ABOUT MAKING SCENES THAT SPEAK TO A MALE AUDIENCE. THAT CATER TO THE MALE GAZE. ARGUE WITH THE WALL.

I won’t go further into the plot, other characters, or the structure or the episodes for sake of brevity, but I felt compelled to air my thoughts on this to the void. I can only hope I was critical enough that Sam Levinson will one day see this and cry because another bad feminist thinks something that he made sucks

[makeste]

Why do you think people are obsessed with whether Deku or Bakugo( and Class 1A) is stronger? Its weird, and the answer will ultimately boils down to, whatever get's the plot and characters where they need to be.

oh my god. this, exactly. I'm honestly tempted to make this a pinned post lol.

I guess one answer would be that people obsess over it because it's a shounen manga, and shounen has been associated with power levels and who's-stronger-than-who going all the way back to the days of the original Dragon Ball. and to be fair, power-ups and fighting and the like are a big part of the story.

and another answer might be that in the same way that tumblr and twitter fandom tends to debate over shipping, reddit and 4chan fandom tends to debate over power levels. no idea why that is, but then again I never really got most of the shipping debates either so hey.

to be perfectly honest though, I think the real answer is that some people feel a need to have their favorite characters validated, so to speak. especially if those characters have a lot of haters (which, as it happens, both Deku and Bakugou do). people want to be able to take that canon validation and rub it in the haters' faces. my favorite is stronger; my favorite is more important to the plot; my favorite is the superior character. and of course, this behavior antagonizes the other character's fandom in turn, and so they start seeking out "proof" of their favorite character's superiority as well, and so the whole thing keeps escalating back and forth, and it becomes a vicious cycle.

incidentally, this is also why some fans have such disproportionate reactions over anything that happens in canon that might make their fave look bad, even if it's very minor and might even be beneficial for the character in the long run. because they're honestly not concerned about the grand scheme of things; all they're concerned about is winning the weekly "mine's better than yours" contest. like, at that point it's barely even about the actual characters anymore; it's mostly just about sticking it to the other fandom. which is usually the point where things start to get ugly, unfortunately. because at that point you have almost a personal stake in the character's outcome; and so anyone who acts against that -- whether it's the fandom or the translators or even the mangaka himself -- isn't just disrespecting the character, they're disrespecting you. and so the outrage is much more intense, and you start getting the really wild reactions like harassment and personal attacks and threats. which of course just riles up the opposing side in turn all over again, and so on and so forth ad infinitum.

anyway, so I guess the short answer is "because it's a shounen manga", and the long answer is "because fandom self-perpetuates a toxic popularity contest which people get dragged into without realizing it until they're already in too deep to easily get back out." but you're absolutely right, anon; at the end of the day it really doesn't matter, and I think having that kind of attitude makes for a much less stressful fandom experience overall.

[mala-sadas]

On the Legendary Wolves’ Plot in Pokéspe SWSH

I really like the way the legendary wolves’ plot is being handled in Pokespe so far. They’ve made a handful of changes and additions to the plot as it’s presented in the games that make it feel integral to the main characters and the overarching story, as well as just being more interesting to follow.

Part of the reason why this plotline is weak in the games is because it’s presented as just a minor subplot. You occasionally get more information about what really happened as you progress through the game, but it doesn’t seem important for you to pay attention to it until you get to the climax and Rose reveals that he’s caused the Darkest Day. Even though you encounter Zacian or Zamazenta in the Slumbering Weald at the beginning of the game, it’s not until Circhester that Hop connects that encounter to the legend you’re unraveling. And in the grand scheme of things, all that encounter does is confirm that the sword and shield Pokémon live in the Slumbering Weald - which Sonia apparently also learns about in a book that mentions Zacian and Zamazenta by name. So, why was it necessary, again?

But right out of the gate, Spe immediately ties the legendary wolves into the main characters’ backstory and motivations. A year prior to the beginning of the chapter, Sou goes to the Slumbering Weald to try to find the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield. He knows about them – and has an interest in them – because he’s from a family of swordsmiths, and he wants to see genuine, historical pieces of armor in person. Meanwhile, Schilly goes to the Weald to look for a Wishing Star that she had seen falling, since she wants to get it made into a Dynamax Band. The pair encounter the illusory Zacian and Zamazenta, and Sou immediately comes to the conclusion that these two are here to protect the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield – a conclusion supported by the fact that when they walk through the illusions to try to take a look at the artifacts, they’re knocked out by a flash of light. When they awaken, the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield are gone - as are all of Schilly’s Pokémon. Sou decides to start traveling with Schilly because he feels partly responsible for her Pokémon going missing, and Schilly decides to compete in the Gym Challenge to spread the word about her missing Pokémon and make it easier for her to find them. Additionally, it’s later revealed that Sou decided to participate in the Gym Challenge so he can get stronger and challenge Zacian and Zamazenta to a battle, believing that they’ll only allow someone with skill as a Trainer and an earnest desire to see the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield to see the artifacts in person.

So, in short, the reason why Sou and Schilly met and their respective reasons for taking on the Gym Challenge are both intrinsically linked to their encounter with the legendary wolves. This makes the wolves’ presence relevant throughout the whole story, ensuring that the reader doesn’t forget about the encounter by the time it becomes relevant again. (I also appreciate that they gave the wolves a concrete reason to appear before the protags in the Weald, something which the games and anime never really bothered to provide.)

Additionally, the decision to introduce the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield right away instead of saving their introduction for the climax like what happens in the games was a really smart choice. First, it ties directly into Sou’s interests, giving him a good reason to be interested in the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield as well as the other legends involving swords and shields. Second, it allows the characters to link together the encounter with Zacian and Zamazenta to the information they’re learning about the legends - Sou observes that the sword and shield held by the statue of the hero in Motostoke as well as the sword and shield depicted on the Hammerlocke tapestries resemble the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield, suggesting that the legends have a connection to the artifacts. And when I say “suggesting”, I don’t just mean in the sense that it’s something you can interpolate from the text. I mean that Sou literally says, “It’s not entirely unlikely that the three are all the same,” and Raihan brings up later that if they’re the same sword and shield, the legendary wolves may be connected to these events in some way as well.

This is another thing that I really appreciate about the way that Pokéspe is handling this plotline: the characters actually speculate, hypothesize, and draw conclusions about the evidence that they’re being presented with. In the games, most of the encounters with Sonia just involve you pointing out incredibly obvious things about the historical artifact/legend, and Sonia agreeing that they’re significant. She asks a lot of questions, but doesn’t postulate answers to them unless they’re directly being shown to you. And even some of the conclusions she draws seem like leaps of logic, like when she assumes that the statue behind the Stow-on-Side mural must be correct because it was made in “truly ancient times” - like, we just discovered this statue, Sonia. We have no idea how old it is.

But in Spe, the characters draw logical conclusions from the information they have, which means they can figure things out a lot faster than they do in the games and makes the conversation interesting to read whenever they learn new information. For example, Sou speculates that the sword and shield wielded by the hero might’ve had special powers, which is true. How did he figure this out? He explains that he thought about it because the hero used them to fight giant, rampaging Pokémon, which is a bit difficult to accomplish with a normal sword and shield.

Another great example of this is in Hammerlocke vault, when Sou guesses that Chairman Rose wants to cause the Darkest Day. One might think that he’s figuring things out way too quickly, but the thing is, this conclusion makes perfect sense given the information he has. While looking at the tapestries, Sou notices that the first one depicts a Wishing Star falling and the second one depicts the Darkest Day occurring. Thus, he guesses that Wishing Stars might have caused the Darkest Day, a hypothesis that Sonia agrees with because they’ve already figured out that the Darkest Day has a connection to Dynamaxing, and Wishing Stars cause Dynamaxing. But Sou had previously learned from Bede that Chairman Rose is collecting a massive amount of Wishing Stars, so it’s only natural that his next thought would be to wonder if Chairman Rose is - advertently or inadvertently - going to cause the Darkest Day again. This immediately ties the Rose plot in with the legendary wolves’ plot, a connection that doesn’t start to be made until your third visit to Hammerlocke in the games.

In general, the Hammerlocke vault scene is way better in Spe than it is in the games, where all you get is Sonia saying that the disaster depicted is probably the Darkest Day and wondering if there was one hero or two. Besides the conclusions that I already mentioned, Sonia also connects the disaster shown in the tapestries to the disaster shown in the Turffield geoglyph, concluding that they’re both depictions of the Darkest Day. However, Sou points out the lack of giant Pokémon in the tapestries, which are always associated with the Darkest Day. I really like how they point out both the similarities and the differing details between the stories, which makes it a little more understandable why no one has ever put together that this myth of the creation of Galar and the legend of the Darkest Day might be referring to the same event.

Finally, the last major improvement that I want to talk about is the one that was introduced in the latest chapter: an explanation for why the legendary wolves’ existence was lost from the legends. The destruction of the Stow-on-Side mural happens offscreen in this story, which is kind of understandable - the main significance of this statue in the games was to introduce the concept of Pokémon being involved in the legend, which Sou, Sonia, and Raihan had already figured out. This statue holds a completely different significance here: when Sonia is telling the protagonists about the newly discovered ruins, she says that she thinks the mural was put up by someone who wanted to deliberately hide the two Pokémon from the legend, giving all the credit to the humans. She points out the tapestry at Bob’s Your Uncle as further proof of this, which - given its condition - looks like someone threw it away so it would disappear from history. 

I don’t believe that the games ever explain how the tapestry ended up in the restaurant, so the fact that it’s given any sort of context here is really neat. But more importantly than that, it’s really interesting that they’re stating outright that the legendary wolves were deliberately removed from the legend. In the games, Sonia wonders why the ruins at Stow-on-Side would be hidden, but doesn’t offer an explanation - she doesn’t even say anything to suggest that it was done intentionally. The question is never brought up again. So I’m really hoping that Spe won’t go that route, and this revelation will have broader implications in the story next chapter or even later - that we’re going to find out who covered it up, or possibly that someone in the present day knows about the cover-up and is willingly propagating it. The immediate assumption is that it’ll be connected to Sordward and Shielbert in some way, since they benefit from the legend being that their ancestors were the heroes who saved Galar. But I think it could also be interesting if we find out that Rose knew about the statue and is deliberately trying to keep the existence of the sword and shield Pokémon covered up - it’d make a lot of sense why he was so unforgiving to Bede for trying to destroy the mural if that were true. Either way, I’m excited to see where they take this concept.

tl;dr The way Pokéspe has been handling the plot points related to the legendary wolves has been really good so far, much better than it was in the games, and I’m very excited to see how it develops going forward!