#me and the girls about to commit shenanigans

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Y'all I find Silco so fucking funny because like, the man has a spine of steel when it comes to anyone he has to work with that he doesn't have personal affection for. He will threaten to kill their children at the first sign that they are even CONSIDERING to defy him. No mercy, no second chances.

But people he cares about? The man folds like a fucking lawn chair INSTANTLY

Jinx gets his employees killed, costs him thousands of dollars in damage, foils his plans through her constant shenanigans, oh and also fucking kills him? "It's okay baby girl you're perfect I love you 🩷"

Vander tried to brutally murder him and turn all of Zaun against him and AU Silco still forgave him. Main timeline Silco was even willing to forgive him or at least spare him if he resolved to fight Piltover. Like "He committed unspeakable acts of violence against me but like that's my Pookie. Also if you look at me sideways again I'll murder your wife" he's hilarious for that

[raevpng]

just us

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

masterlist

a/n: u guys asked for it and you shall receive :p hey guys! this is my first ever fic here so im gonna be so fr im still figuring out how tumblr works so my bad if the layout is weird LAWL anyways i love pazzi sm and i hope u guys enjoy :)

summary: where azzi feels a little bummed about their inevitable separation after winning the natty and paige comforts her girl <3

---

in hindsight, azzi should’ve known. 

the moment brown eyes met blue, the moment friendship turned into something sweeter, the moment teasing during practices turned into intense looks on the court – as if paige was trying to commit every single detail into memory, that there would be an ending – a goodbye, at some point. 

honestly speaking, azzi did know. there was always a pull in her chest, a sour feeling in her stomach when people reminded them that paige was going to leave soon. that her best friend turned girlfriend would no longer be just hers, but would officially be shared with the rest of the world. that she couldn’t just text her to come over and she’d be there in a heartbeat wearing sweats they forgot the original owner of, or stolen pecks on the lips in the locker room before running out for a home game.   

“hey, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” a soft voice spoke through her spiralling thoughts. 

azzi snapped out of her thoughts to the blonde’s soft smile and the same deep blue eyes she fell in love with, the net from their championship game still adorning her neck. azzi stifled a chuckle at her girlfriend’s shenanigans, watching as paige playfully winked when she noticed azzi staring. 

“just thinking about you. us.” she shuffled on the couch of paige’s dorm to let her girlfriend plop beside her, paige’s arm instinctively resting around azzi’s shoulders. 

paige frowned, sensing her girlfriend’s anxiety as she tugged the curly haired girl closer, pressing her lips to her temple. “what about us, princess?” 

azzi shrugged, ignoring the butterflies that erupted in her stomach at the nickname, trying to downplay her worries, because how could she dampen paige’s joy over the missing piece in her collegiate career? she knew how much this championship meant to her, if the net still on her neck wasn’t a dead giveaway. she didn’t want to seem selfish or a killjoy by discussing the inevitable. their separation.  

because as much as paige annoyed azzi to death, she didn’t want to think about what life would be like once paige leaves. once her best friend, her constant, her partner, her soulmate, wouldn’t be at most, a floor away at all times. how she couldn’t just run up to her and kiss her girlfriend’s pout away when she was sulking over something stupid (like azzi winning a game paige insisted on playing.) she doesn’t even want to think about the time difference or the plain fact that they’re going to be separated by thousands of miles and states. that by this time next week, paige wouldn’t be here, and she’ll have to watch as her scent fades from her room, as her hair ties stop accumulating on her desk, as all her hoodies and clothing stay in her closet no longer being stolen by the blonde. 

however, as much as azzi tried to conceal her feelings, paige knew. just by the difference in her normally steady breathing, to the subtle crease in her forehead, to the tight clutch of azzi’s fingers on the hem of paige’s hoodie.

paige knew, and she felt it too. 

“hey. you know nothing can ever tear us apart right? no distance, time difference, or busy schedule can ever take me away from you, please tell me you know that?” paige said softly, coaxing azzi to look up to her. 

suddenly, the dam of feelings within the younger broke, her lips trembling as she let out a soft whimper, followed by paige immediately wrapping her arms around her girlfriend, swallowing the sob that threatened to come out too. as azzi buried her face in her girlfriend’s chest, her tears staining her grey sweatshirt, paige rubbed her back attempting to calm her down while trying to ground herself too. 

“i’m scared. i’m scared of being alone and doing all of this without you.” azzi admitted softly, “im scared that I’ll miss you so much I wouldn’t know what to do. i'm scared that you’ll get so busy you’ll decide you don’t want me anymore.”

“azzi.” paige breathed out incredulously, “i know it’ll be tough. i know we’ll probably go through some pretty difficult shit. i'll finish a hell of a practice and I can’t just come over to your dorm for a hug, or…” Paige wiggled her eyebrows, coaxing a small laugh from the other, “and I know you’ll miss me when the world is a bit harsher than my princess deserves.” she smiles, bringing azzi a little closer, “but we’ve done long distance before and we’ll do it again. it’s you baby, you’re the one for me. i knew it when we were kids, and i know it now. you’re not getting away from me that easily.” she finished firmly, watching as azzi’s eyes softened. “Got it?” 

azzi nodded, her heart feeling a little lighter at the reassurance of her girlfriend, sighing softly as she burrows her head deeper into the blonde’s neck. her eyelashes flutter shut as the older peppers her head with small kisses. 

“i’m gonna visit you as much as i can. gonna get so sick of me.” azzi jokes as Paige lets out a soft chuckle. 

“never, az. could never get sick of my girl.” 

and although they know the day they get separated by thousands of miles gets closer by the second, they stayed wrapped around each other in their own world, breathing slowing down as they succumb to a sweet rest - their own sweet haven where it’s not paige bueckers the number one pick in the draft, or azzi fudd the most outstanding player. 

just azzi and paige. 

--

hehe i luv them sm :( hope u guys enjoyed and please send some prompts and just talk to me hehe i love making friends :)

[over-and-over-and-over-and]

"but right now YOU'RE MINE." || yandere ! shauna x reader

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

🔪 you're framed and punished for a crime you didn't commit. shauna decides she's best suited to be your punisher.

🩻 MDNI : eventual smut - transfem shauna receiving head except it kinda turns into face fucking because shauna is literally insane i swear i didn't mean for that to happen she just kinda did that

🥩 tw blood mention, [attempted] murder mention, toxic/possessive behavior, intentional injury causing + purposefully prodding wounds, yellowjackets typical shenanigans

♠️ pre-winter, no frog scientists, lowkey ooc [kill me], i wrote this fully forgetting shauna canonically is a pretty piss poor liar so just pretend that isnt the case i guess

my first time writing actual smut [i feel like the nsfw abc doesnt rly count] so i'm open to criticism it actually helps lmao

🎵 song: rule 34, fish in a birdcage

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

"p-please i would never! i swear!!"

as much as you pleaded and groveled, nothing changed. you had sobbed and pleaded your innocence for what felt like hours, and not a soul was convinced- perhaps a few people were swayed or at the very least felt bad for you, but the mob mentality kept them in line as the general conclusion was that you were lying through your teeth.

for the most part, you were shit outta luck.

the evidence was stacked against you- which was ridicoulous considering you were genuinely innocent. most of it you didn't understand and couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse beyond-

"i must've been framed, i'm serious! guys you've gotta believe me i-"

"tch- of course you would say something like that." melissa scoffs, cutting you off. it seems she mostly meant to keep the comment to herself, but she made harsh eye contact with you while the words fell from her lips so you suppose she didn't mind the fact that you overheard her.

as much as you wanted to snap back and defend yourself, you knew it would only make things worse- melissa had been the one who had accused you in the first place, presenting completely damning (yet completely impossible) evidence

it's not like you could do anything anyways. innocent or not, the girls had already decided you were beyond guilty. either way, you were absolutely fucked.

you had been evicted from your hut and rehoused in the animal pen until the girls could figure out what to do with you. they had only tied up your hands, and even then they were tied together and not actually tied to anything in the pen... it would be catastrophically easy to run off. you considered it, but you didn't move a muscle.

you knew better than that.

instead you decided to stargaze with the animals, figuring it made a much better pass time than contemplating your fate.

you are quite glad you decided against running off when moments later you hear the gate open and shut, approaching footsteps following soon after. for whatever reason you didn't turn over to see who it was, opting to completely ignore them.

one of those situations where you hoped your problems would vanish if you pretended they weren't there.

they didn't.

instead whoever it was deliberately kicked you in the shoulder to get your attention. slowly you turned to see who it was, shauna's big brown eyes staring back at you.

her expression almost looked bored, as if she had a thousand better things to do, but her hands were balled into tight fists by her sides giving off a different impression of how she felt about you.

oh great.

"get on your feet."

you listen to her instructions completely, jumping to your feet at her command. despite the instinctive obedience, you can't help the inevitable question-

"where are we going?"

"just do what i say."

worth a shot.

shauna parades you through the village, which is weirdly quiet. you're used to the bustle of everyone running around paired with the excited fireside chatter, none of which was currently present. everyone must've been asleep already, which was weird because you could've sworn it was still early. you must've lost track of time while stargazing, but even then that seemed like a stretch.

you walk past each currently occupied hut, but before you can walk past shauna's she grabs the back of your collar, yanking you back. briefly you gag and take a moment to collect yourself from the surprise, all the while shauna is pushing you past the makeshift blanket door. once inside, you're given all of five milliseconds to glance around before shauna shoves you ass first into the dirt.

"what the fuck are you doing-"

"you should be grateful you're not dead."

this comment threw you off. you took a moment to process the implications before glancing back at shauna, "i was supposed to be executed?"

"you were supposed to be exiled with nothing but the clothes on your back," shauna rolls her eyes as if this conversation is painstakingly redundant, "which, out here, is pretty much the same as an execution."

"exiled? why?"

"because you're 'dangerous' and 'unpredictable', according to the court." shauna says the words with air quotes as if she doesn't quite believe it either- once upon a time you were the shy new kid on the team, and now you were being painted as being chaotic and cruel- no matter how you twisted it, the narrative just didn't quite make sense.

you cock an eyebrow, "i'm dangerous and unpredictable, but you're not?"

shauna deadpans, clearly unamused, "i didn't try to axe murder someone in cold blood."

"neither did i!" you exclaim, "the axe is kept on the other side of the village, completely opposite to my hut. i would've had almost zero chance of grabbing it, much less attempt to murder someone!"

shauna crouches down, kneeling to be eye level with you, and yet she once again rolls her eyes. by now you should know arguing with her of all people is not only pointless but also a bit of a death wish- considering your current situation, you could care less.

"someone would've woken up, don't you think? robin is a very light sleeper and she's housed right next to it! you should be interrogating her, not death sentencing me!"

"your clothes were found hidden and covered in blood, not hers."

"anyone could've taken my stuff from the laundry. your case has way too many holes in it, you and i both know tha-"

you're cut off by shauna's hands flying up to meet your throat.

"argue as much as you like but the decision is final." she emphasized her words by squeezing her hands around your neck, earning a desperate squeak as your hands rushed to meet hers, soon confronted by the fact that they were still tied. you couldn't do much aside from choke and squirm, causing a fascinated shark-like grin to slowly spread across shauna's face as she watched you struggle. there was a sparkle in shauna's eyes at the sight of your misery. as her eyes lit up, yours began to dim.

shauna tilts her head to the side, still carefully observing you all the while damn near killing you herself.

"are you gonna behave?"

to the best of your ability, you nodded.

her hands drew back and you began gasping for air, physically rolling over in a desperate attempt at regaining your bearings.

slowly you sit up again, cautiously looking her in the eyes, "do the others know about this?"

from the way the corner of her mouth twitches, you figure shauna is calculating an answer which you patiently wait for her to give, but she doesn't. the both of you sit in a brief awkward silence as shauna decides your question wasn't worth so much as acknowledging.

"do they?"

you try again, despite the way it didn't seem like you'd be getting a straight answer.

shauna opts instead to shift the conversation entirely. she grabs your hand (both unintentionally, due to the rope secured tightly around your wrists, although she focuses her attention to only one- your left hand-) pointing out a small scratch running across your forearm.

"what happened here?"

you sighed as you recalled the incident- post trial in your infinite genius you did the only thing you could think of in order to save your skin,

you ran.

you ran from a fucking soccer team.

your mad dash was unsurprisingly short lived but ended in a bit of a scuffle which resulted in a number of smaller injuries littered across your body.

you glance down at the scratch shauna was referring to, "i think that was misty- she grabbed me by the arm while i was trying to run and just kinda dug her nails into my skin... i don't think she was trying to hurt me though-"

shauna has already moved on, her hand moving to your lower thigh. she presses her palm down, causing you to wince at a bruise you didn't even know was there- how the hell did she know where your injuries were, but you didn't?

"what about here?"

"i'm not sure-" you stammered, searching for the reason as you replayed the event in your mind- "gen maybe? she kicked me pretty hard when melissa explained what happened but-"

shauna pokes at the bruise once more for good measure before going back to searching for another mystery mark somewhere along your body. another scratch, another scab, another bruise, another sore. she pointed out every little thing, giving each a firm squeeze forcing tiny pained gasps from your lips as she continued to pressure you into explaining the story behind each one.

shauna furrows her eyebrows, "you really think they'd save you? they want you dead. i'm your only hope."

you didn't answer, still refusing to accept the truth shauna was presenting to you.

she takes your silence as a sign to continue.

"they all hate you, you know that right?" she inches her way closer as she says it, her hands coming up to cup your face. you tried to turn away from her touch, but one of her hands moved to your chin, gripping it tightly as she forced you to look at her.

"i'm all you have left," she's closer now, closing the space between the two of you by quite literally crawling onto your lap. with nowhere else to put your hands you flatten them against your thigh, giving shauna all the more room as she continued to take up all the space in your lap, "and i think you know that too."

before you can even think of a solid response, shauna crashes her lips into yours.

shauna practically growls into your mouth as she pushes her body against yours. it's all tongue, teeth, and bottled up frustration, most of which is being taken out on you. it feels like she's trying to eat you alive, and you wouldn't be surprised if she was genuinely trying.

you don't notice it at first- the way she lazily rocks her hips- it's not exactly your top priority against the way she's trying to kiss you into the dirt. eventually she pulls away in favor of getting air (which the both of you hastily take in as if you had been living on the moon for the past ten years), and with your attention no longer being on making sure shauna didn't eat your tongue from inside your own mouth, you were finally able to acknowledge the bulge growing in her pants.

you glance at her, then at it.

back at her, back at it.

you feel like a pervert staring at her crotch for as long as you do, so you finally tear your eyes away and settle at looking at her face as if your eyes hadn't been glued to her dick for the past ten seconds.

"do you want some help with that?" to the best of your ability with your hands tied together the way they were, you cupped your hands and made an exaggerated tugging motion. you could practically see the gears turning in her brain, and when she grinned you purposefully strained your wrists against the ropes binding them together, "you'll just have to-"

"i'm not untying you."

damn.

fair enough.

shauna shifts onto her knees, placing one hand on your shoulder before using you as leverage to push herself to her feet. she over exaggerates it, pushing you harder than she needs to and damn near shoving you face first into the dirt floor. after nearly losing your balance, you correct yourself and sit upwards to get a proper view of the way she was now hovering over you, one of her hands burying itself in your hair while her other busied itself with removing her belt buckle.

you hated moments like these because if the circumstances were different, this would have been incredibly hot. you always thought shauna was pretty, and back home you probably would've fantasized about being tied up and at her mercy... you suppose in a way it was still kinda hot, but you didn't really have the time to dwell on that.

especially considering the way she begins to draw her knife with the hand that was once in your hair.

she doesn't do much with it- her hand, still gripping the knife, once again gets tangled up in your hair, so while it isn't actually prodding you it is there as a sort of warning... which was stupid considering you already agreed to get her off. you aren't sure why she's being so melodramatic, but then again you can't remember the last time shauna did something without an excessive amount of theatrics.

the buckle finally comes free and she tugs out her belt before dropping it to the floor... it takes her a hot minute since she's trying to remove her belt with just one hand, and it's lowkey embarrassing to watch but you pretend not to notice or judge.

once the whole spiel is over she locks eyes with you, cocking an eyebrow as if she expected you to do something.

"you don't expect me to take off your pants, do you?"

"what, you don't know how?"

"my hands are still fucking tied!"

shauna sighs, free hand hastily tugging down her jeans (and somehow also her boxers, impressively in just one motion), letting them fall to her ankles.

the hand against your head, somehow gentle despite holding a bundle of your hair in a tight fist, guides your head to meet her dick while her free hand mindlessly pumps her shaft.

you kiss her tip before taking it into your mouth, earning a soft gasp as she nudged you on, urging you to take more of her length. you try to focus on keeping your breathing steady as your head dips, lightly sucking as her dick slides further into your mouth. curiously you try to glance up (to the best of your ability) to glance at her expression, but not only was it difficult from your angle, she also proceeded to toss her head back as she shoves the rest of her cock with zero warning.

immediately you gag, to which she responds with a breathy chuckle before drawing back slightly and doing it again. you feel her tip hit the back of your mouth, and you try to pull back to regain your bearings but the hand in your hair keeps you steady, blade tight in her fist as a reminder to behave yourself.

she continues to roll her hips, occasionally pulling out just to drive her hips forward as if intentionally blocking your airway was her whole job. her sighs have morphed into groans, your own fear of being caught by how loud she was beginning to get quickly overruled by the fact that shauna didn't seem to care.

you can feel the cool metal from her blade press against the back of your head as she begins to get more sloppy. the knife is on it's side so at it's current it would have been unable to cut you, but should she continue to grow more careless you wouldn't be entirely surprised if it did happen.

before she could accidentally slice the back of your head open, she halts, her eyes rolling back as she shoves her dick in as far as it would go- not that you could see, the only information you received was the way her fist clenched impossibly harder as she broke into a strangled moan, ropes of her cum flooding your mouth and slinking down your throat. she pulls out slowly, and your immediate instinct to cough it up was cut off by her hands slamming over your mouth.

"swallow it." her voice was low and laced with authority, but you still (somehow) found it within yourself to whine and shake your head as a nonverbal NO. she furrows her eyebrows, forcefully tilting your head back as she once again ordered, "swallow."

you force yourself to relax, doing as she commands and shuddering at the sensation. she grins, ruffling your hair.

"good job."

her tone was weirdly sarcastic- you couldn't help but feel like she was toying with you, but before you could come up with some witty remark she's using one hand to shove you onto your back. you yelp in surprise while she sinks to her knees, promptly making her way on top of you and making herself comfortable on your chest.

in a way, it feels like you're cuddling but also not really. she's possessive about it, hooking her legs around your own and wrapping her arms underneath yours. if you were really cuddling, you'd both be comfortable, but there's a rock digging into your side and your head is still spinning from the impact, but you suppose when you're being used as a human pillow, your opinion doesn't really matter.

it's awkward.

you absolutely have to say something.

"so... what now?"

"...what do you mean?" shauna's response comes in a murmur- it seems like she's already falling asleep, tuckered out after cumming as hard as she did for the first time in quite a while.

"am i still due to be exiled?"

shauna snorts as if it was the dumbest question you could've asked, "obviously not."

"what do you mean obviously?" you press, with a little more aggression than you would've hoped, "they got majority. you said it yourself they want me dead."

"i overruled the decision," she sits upright, shuffling until she has your head boxed in with her forearms, "don't forget, I'M your queen now."

something about the way she says it makes you shiver.

"i... i don't understand..."

one of her hands reaches up to cup your face, her thumb affectionately running up and down your cheek after she notices the way you flinch from her touch.

"i'm in charge of what happens to you. your life is in my hands."

a smile spreads across her face as she studies your confusion. you try to come up with something to say, but your brain is foggy from the bullshit she was lobbing at you.

"in other words-" her tone was somewhat babyish, as if she was dumbing it down in simple words for you to understand- although it didn't take long for her harsh attitude to return, "you're all mine now."

and with that, she shuffles again and returns to her previous position, snuggling into your chest and trapping you down with her body weight.

"get used to it."

[imaginespazzi]

On The Road To Eternity

Three times Paige and Azzi fall asleep together and the one time they stay awake

(In which a kind writer gives y'all the last dose of real fluff before committing to angst for the next few months)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Words: 4.0K

TW: Light swearing, alcohol, Azzi's ACL injury

A/N: Hello my lovelies! So I know you're all waiting for something else and I promise I am working on it too! But I had a couple of requests I wanted to get through first and the easiest thing as always, was to combine some of them into one fic. So for anons who wanted the plane convo, injury-related comfort and more Miles and Sienna content, this is for you! This is set in Eternity-verse but you obviously don't have to read either of those to understand this. The editing in this might actually be non-existent but I hope y'all forgive me anyways. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see in the future. Enjoy the fluff lovelies, we're in for a bumpy ride next time <3

the playful conversation starts, counter all your quick remarks

Paige’s mouth is running dry. She’s been babbling on and on for almost two hours and the girl next to her has barely spoken two sentences. In Paige’s defense, she’s not really fully in control of her word vomit right now. Her brain is currently in the grasp of her nervous anxiety and the fear that if she lets silence linger between them, the brunette next to her would realize too quickly that maybe Paige’s brilliant idea to switch their seats so they could be next to each other, wasn’t such a brilliant idea after all. 

This feeling is foreign to Paige. She’s always been the epitome of confidence, always so sure of herself, always convinced that the person in front of her must want to be her friend. But something about Azzi Fudd is different. It’s not like Azzi’s been cold or anything, but she seems immune to Paige’s charm, eyes always a little weary of what ridiculousness Paige is going to get herself into next. But really, Paige thinks, it’s Azzi’s fault that the blonde had been up to one too many shenanigans during USA Basketball. Because if every time Paige pulls off a trick, Azzi’s going to smile like that, like Paige is the funniest human being in the world, then she’s going to do it over and over again. 

“You um-,” Paige looks down, fiddling with her thumbs, “you can tell me to shut up you know. I get a little too excited about basketball sometimes.”

“I think you get a little too excited about most things,” Azzi says and when Paige looks up at her, there’s a teasing grin playing on the younger girl's lips. 

“Life’s too short to not be excited about things,” Paige says solemnly. 

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “what book did you steal that from- actually never mind, I doubt you read.”

“Hey, I do read!” Paige shrieks in mock offence and Azzi bursts out laughing. And Paige barely knows this girl, doesn’t even know her middle name yet, but she thinks that Azzi’s laughter, like wind chimes ringing through the mountains, might be her favourite sound in the whole wide world. 

It takes Azzi a second to compose herself, before she looks at Paige with earnest eyes, “I like listening to you talk.”

“Be careful Fudd. I might never shut up,” Paige smirks cockily but inside, her chest feels a like it’s bursting at the compliment. Five simple words and it feels a little bit like all of Paige’s insecurities are being soothed over, a sense of calm washing all over her. She doesn’t understand the butterflies in her stomach and she definitely doesn’t understand the fluttering in her chest but she knows that she likes this feeling, knows that she likes Azzi. 

“You say that but you’ve already gone quiet on me Bueckers,” Azzi cocks her head, “whatcha thinking?”

“I’m thinking we’re gonna be great friends.”

“You think so? I'm a little picky about my friendships.”

“I know so. I'm gonna be the best friend you've ever had," Paige vows.

And when Azzi smiles, it’s not a smile that Paige has seen in the last week. It’s one that’s entirely different, one filled with something both of them are too young to understand and it’ll take years before either of them realize that it’s Azzi’s Paige smile. It'll take years before they realize Paige has her own matching Azzi smile.

This time as Paige starts up a conversation again, Azzi has more input. Time seems to stop and speed up all at the same time as the two girls cover every topic imaginable, occasionally getting annoyed shushing looks from other passengers when they giggle a little too loudly. All that does is make them share conspiratorial smiles and laugh just a little bit harder. It’s almost three-quarters of the way into the flight when their voices start getting scratchy, sleep inching its way onto their features as they slowly fall into silence. 

Paige will never admit this but she’s a little scared of the quiet. Well, actually, she’s scared of being alone, and the quiet feels a lot like solitude. Her whole life she’s tried her best to keep herself surrounded by chaos, by noise, filling up the space with her own voice if nobody else wanted to talk. And if there was nothing, at least there was the sound of a basketball being dribbled on the hardwood floor. The whole plane is asleep and all she can focus on is Azzi’s soft breathing next to her as the brunette falls deeper and deeper into her dreams. And for the first time in her life, Paige doesn’t mind the quiet. 

***

Azzi stirs awake to the cabin crew announcing they’re only a couple of minutes away from landing. She cricks her neck, feeling a heaviness on her right and when she turns to look, there’s Paige Bueckers. Blonde hair sprawled all over Azzi's arm as the point guard uses Azzi’s shoulder as her own personal pillow. Her eyes are shut tight, mouth a little ajar with drool pooling at the corner of her lips. Azzi blinks down at her, unsure why her heartbeat is erratic, unsure why she thinks Paige might be the most beautiful creature she’s ever seen. 

Azzi wills herself to stay deathly still, convincing herself that it’s because she doesn’t want to wake Paige up. After all, they’d had a long week and the point guard deserved a break after having done everything in her power to make sure the team won gold. But really, the truth is Azzi doesn’t want Paige to wake up because then Paige will move away and Azzi’s beginning to realize she quite likes having Paige asleep on her, she's beginning to realize, that maybe she just likes having Paige with her.

2. the lingering question kept me up, 2 am who do you love 

“And then Coach made me run laps for an hour. AN HOUR,” Paige says animatedly, placing her phone on her pillow, as she flips herself to lie on her stomach, “and now I’m sore everywhere.”

“Aww you poor baby,” her best friend’s voice mocks through the facetime call that’s been running since midnight, “maybe next time you should just try and practice well.”

“Who’s side are you even on?” Paige guffaws. 

Azzi laughs, her head leaning back against the headboard as she gets comfortable, “his duh. After all, he could be my future coach. Gotta stay on his good side.”

“What do you mean could?” Paige narrows her eyes, “he will be your coach.”

“I dunno dude. The way you’ve been complaining about practice since you got there, I don’t know if I wanna be a part of that.”

“Don’t think you can handle it?” Paige smirks, knowing exactly what buttons to push as she watches Azzi’s calm expression turn to one of fierce competition. 

“I would kick your butt at practice,” Azzi says determinedly and Paige’s smirk widens. 

“Well you should commit to UConn and find out.”

“May I w-” Azzi stops, groaning as she realises what Paige is doing. 

“Go ahead and finish that sentence for me.”

“Fuck off,” Azzi whines, grabbing a pillow to bury her head into and it’s ridiculous the way Paige is so endeared by it. But then again, she’s endeared by most things Azzi. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Paige sing-songs, “that was all you bro.”

“You tricked me.”

“I did no such thing. I am a woman of God. I would never.”

“Don’t bring God into your deception Paige,” Azzi chastises as they both delve into laughter. That’s their friendship in a nutshell. Conversations well past midnight, filled with bickering and giggling. And the truth is, that all throughout the day, as she goes through the motions of UConn life, this is what Paige looks forward to. Coming back to her dorm, falling into bed, picking up the phone and finding Azzi on the other side. And even if doesn’t do nearly enough to soothe the ache of how much she craves Azzi’s physical presence, at least for a while she can close her eyes and pretend, just by the sound of her best friend’s voice, that she’s here with her. 

“You’d fit in really well Az,” Paige says after a moment, chewing at her lip, “I know your game better than anyone and I know you’d thrive here.”

Azzi sighs, “I don’t feel like doing this tonight Paige.”

They’re balancing on a thin rope when it comes to Azzi’s commitment. As the deadline approaches, the younger girl, also known as the most indecisive person Paige knows, has gotten more and more tense with every day. What had started as Azzi rolling her eyes whenever Paige pushed a little too hard, had begun to delve into Azzi shutting down the moment Paige brought the topic up. 

“I just think-”

“Stop thinking,” Azzi bites out harshly before she lets out a deep breath, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that I just- I need everyone to stop talking to me about it.”

“We’re just tryna help,” Paige says slowly, lying on her elbows as she props her phone up against her side table. 

“I know. I know. But I just need y’all to trust that I know what’s best for me.”

I’m what’s best for you, Paige thinks but she can’t say that out loud, not when it’s veering just a little too close to the biggest reason why Paige wants Azzi at UConn, one that has absolutely nothing to do with basketball, one that has everything do with that scary fucking l-word Paige isn’t sure she’ll ever be ready to confront. 

Instead she gives her best friend a soothing nod, “you know I trust your judgement.”

“You should,” Azzi smiles and Paige feels warm all over, “it’s definitely better than yours.”

Paige rolls her eyes, “you say the sweetest things to me Azzi Fudd.”

“I try,” Azzi whispers before a loud yawn escapes her, as she rolls over to lie on her side.

“You abouta fall asleep on me bro?” Paige raises an eyebrow. 

“Of,” another yawn, “course not.”

Paige shakes her head, mentally counting down in her head as she watches Azzi’s eyes start to blink. For her part, the younger girl tries to keep talking, mumbling something about some tv show she’d watched that day. Paige barely registers any of it, too busy admiring how pretty Azzi looks in the dim glow of her night light. She can feel her own body starting to drift away as well, giving into what’s basically become routine. And maybe their phones only have enough charge for them to get a small glimpse of each other stirring awake before the call unceremoniously. But it’s enough. For now, even if it’s just through a screen, falling asleep to the sound of each other breathing, and waking up to those precious few seconds of each other being the first thing they see in the morning, is enough. 

3. now i’m pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door

The music roars around her as Paige lets herself be immersed by the dancing crowd. It’s a Thursday night, but after a decisive win over Maryland by the women’s team, all of Storrs is partying like it’s already the weekend. While the bar was always an option, the team had decided to throw an impromptu party in one of the apartments instead and word seemed to have spread a little too quickly throughout campus. 

Paige is distracted as she dances with KK and Aubrey, eyes constantly drifting to the door in anticipation of her girlfriend. Azzi had reassured she’d show up after the Fudds, who were helping Azzi decorate for Christmas, left but the clock is ticking closer and closer to midnight and there’s still no sign of the brunette anywhere. 

“Has Azzi texted any of y’all?’ Paige tries to yell over the music, after checking her own phone and finding nothing. Both KK and Aubrey shake their heads and Paige sighs, concern flooding into her brain. Out of the corner of her eye she notices Caroline beelining for the door and call it instinct, but Paige immediately knows it has something to do with Azzi. 

“I’ll be right back okay,” she says to her other teammates, before following the Massachusetts native.

She’s not sure how Caroline did it so easily, but it takes Paige far longer than it should to get through the crowd and out the door.Azzi’s apartment is eerily quiet by the time Paige reaches it. The newly setup Christmas lights around the living room have been turned off and even the fairy lights on the Christmas tree are set to a dim setting. For a second, Paige wonders if maybe Azzi isn’t even in here and then she hears it, a heartbreakingly familiar sob. As she walks towards Azzi’s door, Paige feels her own heart start to crack. 

When the injury had happened in practice, there were two people who had immediately known what it was. The person it happened to and her person who’d just been through it. Azzi had taken it shockingly well from the moment it happened til the doctor had confirmed what they’d all known, but still hoped to be wrong about. A steely determined look had covered her face, as instead of mourning another setback, she’d thrown herself into planning out her recovery. But Paige had always been able to see through Azzi’s façade and she’d known it was only a matter of time before the inevitable crash. 

Paige stops outside the door, unsure if she should go in as she listens to the sound of Azzi’s tears and Caroline’s soothing “it’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s not,” Azzi breathes out between sobs and it feels like a shard of glass is being used to puncture Paige's soul, “I can’t do this again Carol. It’s too much. I can’t keep doing this again and again. Why does this keep happening to me?”

“I know,” Caroline whispers, sounding as helplessly defeated as Paige feels, “I’m so sorry Azzi.”

“No, I'm sorry. Fuck Carol, you should be down at the party-”

“I should be here with you because you need me,” Caroline hesitates, “but I also don’t think it’s me you need.”

“Don’t,” Azzi’s voice is firmer now and Paige can picture her wiping her tears as she gives Caroline that patented don’t push me look. 

“Azzi-”

“Did you see how happy she looked after the game? I can’t ruin that for her. She was so good tonight and I’m so proud of her and I can’t- I won’t ruin that for her. She’s been through so much this year and she deserves to celebrate without- without me there ruining her moment.”

You stupid silly girl with your heart of gold, Paige thinks, shaking her head as she throws the door open. 

“Oh thank god,” Caroline mutters under her breath, moving a little so that Paige can see all of Azzi’s, sitting rigidly on her bed with her legs hanging off one side. Tear tracks stream down the younger girl’s face, her hands fisted in her laps as she stares at Paige with watery eyes. She’s still dressed in her tracksuit from the game, the sticker Paige had placed over her heart, still exactly where she’d put it. An air of fragility clings to Azzi’s frame and Paige wants to bubble wrap her girlfriend and hide her away from this cruel world that seems to test their strength at every step of the way. 

“For someone so smart Azzi Fudd, you say the dumbest shit sometimes,” Paige whispers, crouching down in front of the brunette, and uncurling her fists so she can hold her hands, “you think I can celebrate without you?”

“I didn’t wanna be a buzzkill,” Azzi mumbles, eyes looking anywhere but at Paige, “I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Baby,” Paige breathes out, bringing Azzi’s knuckles to her lips, “was I a burden to you last year?”

That gets Azzi to look at her, as a fierceful protectiveness clouds the other girl’s eyes, “of course not P. You could never be a burden.”

“Then how the fuck, did you ever think Azzi, that you could be a burden to me?”

Azzi’s bottom lip trembles, a fresh set of tears threatening to fall from her eyes. And then she’s falling off the bed, straight into Paige’s arms, hands tightening around the older girl’s neck as she buries her face in her chest. 

“I’ve got you baby,” Paige whispers into her hair, her own eyes stinging as she runs her hands up and down the shaking brunette’s back, “I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

She doesn’t know how long she sits on the floor, tank top a little soaked from all of Azzi’s tears but she doesn’t move until Azzi stills herself in her arms, having basically cried herself to sleep. Paige gets up slowly, trying her best not to wake up the girl in her arms, as she somehow manages to manoeuvre both of them onto the bed. Azzi lets out a quiet whimper, snuggling further into Paige’s side. 

Staring down at the vulnerable girl in front of her, Paige finally lets her own tears fall, biting her lip and almost drawing blood, to keep herself from making a sound. A lot of things had gone wrong in the last year but it was all supposed to have been worth it this year when they’d finally get to live out the dream they’d been dreaming since they’d first met, the dream to play together. And now that's gone, for now at least. But as Azzi subconsciously runs a hand down Paige’s arm, her sixth sense alerts even in sleep that her girlfriend needs comfort, Paige thinks, at least they have each other. Because as she lies down next to Azzi, pulling her girlfriend closer to her chest, she knows she’s never letting go. 

4. this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends

Paige swears she’s only closed her eyes for 10 seconds when the baby monitor goes off again. Loud screaming fills the entirety of the master bedroom, as she groans into her pillow. For the most part, her twins are angels on earth. Except when the clock passes 3 a.m and they seem to get possessed by demons that make them scream bloody murder until one of their moms picks them up. 

“Azzi,” she whines into her pillow, reaching over to lightly smack her wife’s arm, “your children are awake.”

She doesn’t need to see the younger woman’s face to know that even with sleep in every corner of her eye, Azzi is currently shooting Paige the most exasperated glare possible. 

“Suddenly they’re my kids? Gosh Paige I wish you’d told me that before I put your name on the fucking birth certificate,” Azzi quips as she rolls out of bed and Paige immediately missed the warmth next to her, “if you’re not up in five minutes to help me with this, I swear to god I will divorce your ass.”

“How are you awake enough to threaten me like that right now?” Paige mumbles, sighing to herself as she separates from her beloved bed. The tiredness hits her the moment she stands up and she almost keels over, until a strong arm wraps around her waist. And despite the ridiculous time, despite the noise that is still echoing throughout their room, despite the fact that she can barely see her in this darkness, as soon as Paige can feel Azzi’s skin underneath her fingertip, she can’t help but press her lips against her wife’s. Paige almost, almost loses herself in the kiss until there's a shriek, too loud to ignore. 

“What if we didn’t put a baby monitor in their room anymore,” she mutters against Azzi’s lips, eliciting a small laugh from her wife as she entwines their hands together, practically dragging Paige from the master bedroom into the twin’s shared nursery.

Miles and Sienna are both standing in their cots, facing each other and screaming their heads off as if they’re in some sort of who can ruin our moms night better competition and if Paige wasn’t one of the moms in question, she’d probably find the scenario a tad bit more amusing. Shaking her head, she walks towards Miles as Azzi goes towards Sienna and it’s a little bit ridiculous how quickly the cries begin to subside. She’d never admit it but secretly Paige loves how quickly the twins calm down as soon as they see their mothers, even if it is after yelling at an ungodly hour in the morning. They’re too young to be able to say the words, and so Paige is pretty sure this is their way of making sure Mommy and Mama know how much Miles and Sienna love them. 

“Hey buddy,” Paige coos as she picks Miles up, his tearful face breaking out into a magnificent grin, “didn’t feel like letting us sleep again huh kid?”

Miles doesn’t say anything, just smiles as he makes grabby hands for Paige’s face. She’s learned it’s one of his favourite things to do with her or Azzi, reach for them and use his tiny fingers to caress their faces. It’s like he’s memorising how they feel and Paige can’t help but lean into his touch. Behind her she can hear Sienna giggling and when she turns around, she’s not surprised to find Azzi pressing kisses all over their daughter’s face. And she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of seeing this vision, the love of her life interacting with their kids. 

“Muh,” Miles manages to spit out the minute he spots Azzi, jostling in Paige’s arms, clearly eager to get to his other mother. The sound gets Sienna’s attention and her face widens as she spots Paige. Laughing, Paige and Azzi share a secret smile as they swap children. Miles immediately buries his face into his favourite spot in the crease between Azzi’s neck and shoulder and Sienna’s immediately enamoured with Paige’s blond hair, chubby finger combing through it as she looks at her mother in awe. 

“You’re wide awake aren’t you Si-Si,” Paige whispers, laughing when Sienna nods. She walks them over to the couch, Azzi and Miles following behind. As soon as both Paige and Azzi are seated, Miles and Sienna are reaching for each other, babbling silly nonsense and giggling. Paige doesn’t know a lot about babies but she’s pretty certain her twins have their own secret language they speak to each other in. 

Their family of four settles into the couch, that’s bound to be dented soon by the constant weight of all four of them on it every night. It’s unlikely any of them will return to their own beds, unlikely Paige and Azzi will even get any more sleep tonight. Over the top of the twins' head, Paige eyes meet Azzi’s. They’re droopy with sleep, but crinkled from the way she’s smiling and Paige is still as much in love with them now, as she was an eternity ago. 

“I love you,” she whispers, just because she can. 

Azzi’s smile widens, one hand navigating through their children between them to hold Paige’s, “I love you more.”

“I love you the most,” Paige counters and Azzi shakes her head as she squeezes Paige’s hand. 

It’s a silly little thing but they wouldn’t be Paige and Azzi if they didn’t bicker over it just a little bit. Because at the end of the day they both know, there's no one they’d rather fall asleep with, no one they'd rather stay awake with, no one they’d rather be on this journey of life with, other than each other. 

[champion-of-love]

thinking about pink squad being the resident party throwers in ever after and all the shenanigans they get up to when planning

in the books, briar had the position of social throne on the student council (or something similar cant remember) so i just know that she has 100% memorized all the forms and steps on procedures on throwing events at eah.

apple wishes she has the same mastery as briar in paperwork. the girl can do budget proposals, logistical planning, role assigning, and etc in her sleep and thats not exaggerating.

(true hearts day being held in secret was an exception since grimm shot the event down as cupid suggested it. all their other events are approved by the school and grimm himself is going crazy trying to find a reason to reject their request but cant find a flaw in briar's event proposals.)

cupid is 'their guy' if they need anything. no matter how weird, how rare, how obscure, cupid knows how to get it. she just knows where to get it or knows someone who can get it for her ;)

girlie always has a delivery incoming to the point that blondie knows how to fake cupids signature so she could shoo away all the delivery birds that come to their dorm room because they need cupids signature before they could drop off their package.

hopper's their distraction guy. while he's not as charismatic in his human form, he's got a silver tongue in his frog form.

it isnt only just grimm who falls for hoppers made up play, but every teacher and professor falls for it too because he's just that good. made up plays, clubs, assemblies. he knows how to lie well enough that any school offical believe the lies coming out of his mouth.

(i know theyre teens still, but you cannot convince me that no one is drinking at any of these parties. theres no pressure to drink at all but the option's there if you wanna get loose and have a lil buzz. they're eventually going to drink alcohol in the future in balls and dances and such, so why not learn about their personal tastes and tolerance in alcohol now?)

the biggest hurdle in the pink squad's goal of getting happily ever wasted is, unfortunately, apple.

apple is a rule follower to her very essence and while she does go to the parties, she is against underage drinking. (but she's drunk on power all the time, okay jan.)

they figured out that the solution is just to always have a bowl of apple juice out in every party so that apple wouldnt know there's alcohol being served. they noticed that unless there wasnt any apple juice out, apple wouldnt try out any other drink. so with a bowl charmed to never run out of a.j., the students of ever after are free to drink as they please.

(i love the hc that ginger is also part of the pink squad, so im gonna give my hc of her in party planning as well)

ginger is their food and snacks girl. she makes the best food ever perfectly themed to the party that theyre throwing. from heart cakes on true hearts day, light finger food for the rager parties, to five course meals on their more classy events, ginger's got them covered. sometimes, she gets too conscious about what other people think of the food that she forgets to enjoy herself, but the pink squad drag her out of her funk and get her to have fun anyways

not members of the pink squad but people who sometimes help out

melody - the best dj in ever after! she uses these events sometime to test the reception to some of her upcoming songs before she releases them

daring - being blackmailed by cupid to act as a medic in case someone gets hurt. (this is also partly based on my cupid and daring friendship fic hjdjskr). he's the best in rescuing damsels, whats a drunk teen of not a damsel? (he's actually really good at giving first aid tho)

darling - security! they do have bouncers and such, but if anyones getting too rough at a party, they can get darling and a look from her gets the troublemaker running in fear or apologizing profusely

blondie - apart from committing forgery in cupid's name, she also gets the word out on her mirror blog when they have an event happening soon!

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Prologue

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen

WC: 13k

Chapter Warnings: angst, miscommunication, ghosting? maybe, some cursing, mentions of OC having nephews (gross), being broken up with over a text, allusions to anxiety, my oc being argumentative and avoidant (she's me), and nico also being avoidant and a poor communicator (he's a man) (he's also a capricorn) (sorry capricorns)

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

Series Masterlist

A/N: is a 13k prologue excessive? probably. is the mixture of tenses in this part going to grind your gears? most definitely. am I going to do anything about it? no.

I've never actually published any writing before so go easy on the girl. if I need to tag any warnings just let me know. if you like the fic let me know. if you don't like the fic I beg you I'm having a bad month spare meeeeee.

TW for british english spellings because shock horror I am unfortunately british, get used to u's and s's where you least expect them, I will change my spell check settings for no one!! nico's facebook aunt shenanigans have lit a fire within me today and I was writing a later chapter for this fic and thinking if I don't actually put this out into the world I never will so here we are hi my name is maggie I hope you enjoy

Poppy

New Years has always been Poppy Jensen’s favourite holiday. The dwindling aftermath of Christmas - lights and decorations still hung throughout the city, everyone decked in the hats, scarves and ugly sweaters gifted by distant relatives over the Christmas period, and the six days of limbo usually spent drinking and eating copious amounts of leftovers before the new year, new me resolutions kick in - and experiencing it all in her hometown surrounded by the people she loves the most, there is no other time like it.

This year, she feels like the festive period has been one, long, strung-out horror show. 

Self-inflicted, of course, like all the other tragedies of her life, she does know she only has herself to blame for how pathetic it has turned out.

She had prepared herself for Christmas to be a dud. The one time of the year that she and her family put aside their differences, and this year she had opted out - or, so her mother had dramatically concluded; she actually just had work commitments. But, this would be her first spent alone due to the fact her parents had decided to go and visit her older brother, Oliver, and his family in San Francisco.

They didn’t have to fly across the country - Oliver has more than enough money to book his clan on a flight back to his home state, but obviously as the golden child, the Jensen’s must bend to his every whim. Of course, Poppy had been invited. Her relationship with her brother wasn’t mutually acrimonious, but the aforementioned work commitments got her out of that bore-fest. 

She does love her brother. Sometimes. Christmas, especially - he’s a great and expensive gift-giver. And she loves his wife, Kimberley, and their two sons - her nephews, James and Lucas - but spending the holidays with them would have been a lot. Her family is hard work on the best of days, and the only reason Christmas is ever bearable is because her mother hires help, and it’s impossible for the stress train to leave the station if Priscilla Jensen is given enough wine early enough in the day to dull her usual wicked demeanour. 

Kimberley, God bless her soul, maintains a sober house, and Poppy, as much as she respects this, would not go anywhere near that train wreck if you paid her a million dollars.

There’s also the fact that the holidays were invented to unwind, and Poppy somehow always gets lumped on nephew duty. She had long grown out of her boys are gross phase, but lord, do those two try everything in their power to bring it back. She has lost count of the amount of their bodily fluids she has had wiped all over her best clothes over the years. If she had agreed to fly out, she no doubt would have ended up being the one to watch the kids while everyone else had their version of a good time, and so she’d successfully managed to avoid all that with a half-assed promise of visiting at Easter, instead.

Her brother hadn’t been too upset - one less place setting at the table for him to worry about - but her mother had been livid, and there was no chance Poppy would live it down without owing her.

God forbid she, as an adult, actually got to choose how to spend her time.

She hadn’t actually been completely alone on Christmas, not all day, at least. Her best friend Nia had invited her to eat with her and her dad, but they were hardly putting her in the festive spirit with their constant snipes at each other, and so she’d given herself stomach ache stuffing herself full of corn bread and roasted carrots and dipped out to make it home for the Giants game - because there’s no better tradition than watching your team lose on Christmas Day. At least she wasn’t there to watch her dad and brother yell at the TV and get all grumpy for hours after the fact. 

She’d watched Love Actually with mulled wine in hand and fallen asleep on the couch - waking up in the middle of the night to the muffled sound of her neighbours screaming at each other through the walls. 

Poppy had the 26th off, and spent the day preparing her apartment for New Years, knowing she wouldn’t have any other opportunity to get her big clean done. She’d cleared out half her wardrobe - done several loads of laundry so that she could donate clean clothes to the women’s shelter a few blocks over - rid her kitchen of all the outdated tinned foods in the backs of her cupboards, dusted every surface, vacuumed every floor, colour-coded her bookshelf to look more aesthetically pleasing and then within an hour put it back in alphabetical order - all in a day’s work. 

By the time the 27th rolled around, and she had to return to work, she had tired herself out completely. She had been drained, and the worst part of it all, she didn’t even actually need to be there.

Sure, December was a crazy time to work in the NHL, their schedule unrelenting when the season got into full-swing, and the holiday events that Poppy’s team had to organise seemed never ending, but she had technically been given limbo-week off. Not that her mother had to know.

The Youth Foundation team had all wrapped up work for the year on the 23rd, and if Poppy was a truly good daughter/sibling/aunt, she would have booked herself on a red-eye after the home win that evening, but the second the opportunity to accept an actual real excuse not to change her plans arose, she took it with open arms. Her guilt of lying to her family diminished, along with her will to live at the fact she had - self-inflicted, as always - put herself down to work her favourite time of the year.

Her career with the New Jersey Devils had started with an internship in her final year of college. She had worked with the digital content department for her first year, quickly being sniped by the Foundation in the middle of her second year and working her way past content creation to helping co-ordinate and run some of the community events.

When her friend Jessica had approached Poppy and begged for her to cover her spot in the department they had started out together in for limbo-week, spending it with the team at their games, she had jumped at the bit. She knew no one else would agree to work last minute after having their time off approved, and was pleased to relay to her mom that she had to prove herself as a team player if she wanted more responsibility at work. It was all in the name of bumping up her performance and getting her name out there, and definitely not avoiding her family and that whole shit-show.

Poppy loves her job, and is more than happy with her career, but she could sing about it until the cows come home and her parents could not care less. They rarely ever acknowledged her successes because her life didn’t fit the mould they had set out for her - another reason she hadn’t wanted to spend this Christmas hounded with questions of why don’t you come work for your dad? Or why didn’t you accept the interview Ollie so kindly got for you? She doesn’t want a non-sensical, nothing job made up to keep her under her family’s influence. She has forged her own path, one that many dream of in one of the biggest industries in the country, and no matter how much she disappointed her parents in comparison to her lackey brother, she is content with where she is.

She had completely forgotten, however, that the devils played away on the 29th and 30th, and if she was going to be tagging along with the bare-bones limbo week media crew, there was no way in hell she was getting out of joining the team’s New Years celebrations. 

She had done her fair share of dodging team events already this year, and despite the fact she could appease most of her friends within the organisation, there was one person who would not let her off so easy.

This year is Jack Hughes’ first year hosting the big Devils New Years party - he’d, in her opinion, stupidly volunteered pretty much last minute after the venue the team had booked flooded in November and cancelled their reservation - and he would not let Poppy get out of coming, even if that meant scuppering her own annual tradition of getting shit-faced with her girls in their perfectly planned New Jersey bar crawl.

She’d done her best work to convince him - had almost sold him on the dream - she and her best friend, Nia, always start at the bar below Nia’s apartment in Hoboken, and then dot to the bars closest to their other friends apartments until they end up by Poppy’s, which has the perfect little rooftop set up where they get to watch all the fireworks across the Hudson. It’s how she’s spent the holiday every year since she and all her girls turned 21, and it was her favourite day, her favourite way to ring in a new year with her best friends in her favourite place in the world. 

Jack’s argument was that he also had a great view across the Hudson from his Jersey City apartment, and that she was less likely to catch hypothermia this year because his view came through floor to ceiling windows and the luxury of central heating.

She’d tried to argue that she had all intentions of meeting her future husband on her adventures through New Jersey, and he gave the quick rebuttal that he had plenty of single friends she was yet to meet. 

There was no excuse she could give that he couldn’t counteract, and so she’d eventually given up with the resolution that when he is 3 drinks deep, Jack Hughes can barely remember his own name, let alone keep tabs on where Poppy is, or if she ever showed up in the first place. She can always just say she’s running late until he stops asking.

And then she’d somehow gotten roped into helping him set up. 

Jack had cornered her on their flight home from Boston, where they had just lost to the Bruins and, all of a sudden, no one was in any kind of mood to party.

“I swear,” he had said, throwing himself down into the vacant seat beside her as she attempted to clear her inbox on the short journey, swiping away messages and storing others to review when work started back up in the next week, “If I mess up this party, and my name goes down in Devils history tied to the biggest depression session this team have ever seen, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“How the hell would that be my fault?” She had scoffed, kicking at his feet when he had tried to man-spread next to her and they had quite abruptly knocked knees. The staff seats toward the front of the plane weren’t quite as spacious as the player seats further back.

“You brought some serious negative energy with you on this trip,” he shrugged, reaching for the bag of skittles she had stashed in the pocket on the seat in front of her and stealing a handful, “And I can’t blame you for us losing, so I’m gonna blame you for constantly trying to abandon my event and making me feel so insecure about it that it turned into a complete bore-fest because I didn’t have my literal professional event planner friend to help me set it all up.”

Jack Hughes had joined the New Jersey Devils at the same time Poppy had started her internship. There had been some corny ice breaker session for everyone new to the organisation that season, and they’d bonded over their shared love for country music. He’d become dependent on her as a local to the area for recommendations for everything - food, sports bars, coffee, grocery shopping, running routes - and they’d quickly developed a friendship that had lasted them thus far. No fallouts, no drama, no issues. Being friends with Jack is easy. 

Poppy is older by near enough 18 months, and considers him as close to a little brother as she will ever find - annoying, teasing, loud and somewhat of a know-it-all, but he cares deeply, and he’s loyal, honest and open with her, and she loves him for it.

“I’ve done my part even helping you plan the thing,” she had to snatch the bag back from him before he finished the skittles off, needing the sugar to keep her awake for the quick drive home when they landed. Jack had been on her back about this party since he had first put his name in the hat to host, and she had been gracious, helping him arrange food, drinks, decorations and DJ equipment in the hopes it would lessen the blow that she didn’t want to attend. “I didn’t bring negative energy.”

“Do I have to kidnap you when we deplane or are you gonna come around tomorrow morning and help me?”

“Kidnap me?” she couldn’t help but laugh, casting a quick measured glance over his figure. “Real cute, Jack, you’re nothing without your stick.”

“I could take you.” He attempted to throw a skittle up into the air and catch it in his mouth, not accounting for the fact they were on a moving, somewhat turbulent plane, and he barely had enough finesse to pull that off on the ground. The candy landed and bounced off his cheekbone, and he watched it fall to the floor with a child-like pout. 

“It’s fighting talk like that that would lose you another tooth, Hughesy,” she had threatened in jest. 

“I’m a middle child, I don’t start fights I can’t finish, Popcorn.” He also has a track record of giving Poppy the worst nicknames she has ever heard in her entire 24 years on this Earth. “Luke’s already said he’ll help me on the kidnapping front, we have a plan.”

“Your plan is nothing without incentive, Jack. You come at me with weak threats when you could just offer me something in return.”

“Like what?” His eyes narrowed toward her, shuffling in the seat until he was facing her fully. 

“I want to bring Nia.” If she was going to be subjected to this, she was bringing back up - and she had thought this would be a good trade, knowing how protective the boys were of their private events, especially those thrown in their own homes.

Poppy hadn’t liked the way his lips curved up immediately, like she had fallen straight into his trap. “Done.” She should have known better. He stood up, edging back into the aisle and sending her a wink. “I’ll text you details on when and where I need you. Your hot friend is more than welcome to offer a hand, too.”

And that is how Poppy has ended up spending the day of New Years Eve, her favourite day of the year, rushing to set up Jack Hughes’ apartment. 

Her first task had been to go round to Jack’s and accept the deliveries that came while he and Luke were out picking up the decks for the DJ. Drinks arrived by the crateful, the boxes of paper plates, cups and other table wears took her several trips up and down from Jack’s apartment to the building lobby until she broke out in a sweat, and she had done her best to hang all the decorations, her last call being to pick up the bigger decoration delivery from downstairs.  

Poppy, with the help of Lionel, the building’s concierge, loads the elevator full of decor, ranging from golden helium balloons that spell out ‘Happy New Year’ and ‘2024’, a large roll that should hopefully unravel to reveal a backdrop for a makeshift photo-booth, as well as a deconstructed balloon arch that gave her PTSD from the amount of events at the Rock she’d had to put them together.

Lionel offers to come up with her to help unload everything upstairs, but the thought of cramming another person in there with all the stuff makes her feel claustrophobic, so she politely declines - though, when the elevator doors open and she bumps face first into a firm chest, her nose smushing against a khaki t-shirt she wishes she had someone else with her to buffer the tension that stiffens her spine. 

A large, calloused hand wraps around her upper arm to steady her, and another reaches out to keep the doors of the elevator from closing in on where she stands. She looks up into eyes swirled with the colour of warm, melted chocolate, and her throat feels just the slightest bit drier than it had 5 seconds ago.

“Hey,” Nico Hischier’s voice is deep, scratchy like he’s just woken up - he probably has given how late the team got in last night - and trickles down in static currents from her ears to the base of Poppy’s back. 

She takes a short, startled step back, and gulps down the dryness in her throat before she gives a quick, “Hey,” in response. “Sorry, I’ll just take a second to unload all of this then the elevator is yours.”

“I’ll help,” Nico doesn’t phrase it as a question, as if knowing she would immediately decline. Not, let me help, or do you need help? He’ll just do it. “You get everything out and I’ll take it inside?”

She nods, despite the voice in the back of her head telling her that he’s only helping to get the job done quicker, and be able to get downstairs. She makes a conscious mental effort to drown it out while the two of them work in a silent tandem, her lifting the decorations into the hallway and him towing them down and into Jack’s apartment. 

She makes another conscious effort not to watch when he lifts things, the flex of his arms, the rippling muscles of his shoulders.

“Is that the last of it?” He asks, gesturing to the rolled up backdrop leaning on the side of the elevator and propping it open. 

“Yeah, but I got it,” Poppy gives a tight smile, lifting the roll but staying in place so the doors don’t close behind her and she doesn’t get stuck any longer in Nico’s presence on her own. “Thanks for helping.”

There used to be a time she couldn’t get enough of being around Nico, but those days are long gone.There is a permanent frigidity between them now - it’s been there since the summer just gone - and she’s overstimulated enough having spent her morning being Jack’s lackey while he no doubt slacks off with his brother grabbing brunch out. Her patience is beyond wearing thin, and so the last thing she needs is prolonged contact with the Devils captain where she will no doubt end up blowing up and making everything worse.

No one wants to ring in the new year with an almighty fallout.

She can’t help the frown that befalls her features when he makes no effort to occupy the elevator. He makes no effort to do anything, only looking at Poppy with a pensive pout. “Jack said I should come help you out.”

Of course he did, she thinks.

For the past four months, Jack Hughes has been acting like it’s his greater purpose in life to bring Nico and Poppy back together - like the demise of their friendship was the greatest personal inconvenience he has ever faced in his life. 

He has orchestrated one too many ‘accidental’ run-ins just like this one, and Poppy isn’t going to entertain his childish games any longer.

Nico doesn’t want to be her friend - she knows this for a fact - so Jack’s schemes are becoming a waste of everyone’s time.

“I’m alright, Nia’s on her way, you don’t have to hang around.”

Nia was due at Jack’s apartment two hours ago, but is no doubt still asleep after she was out last night for her pre-New Years celebrations. She’ll come over soon enough, though, and so Poppy doesn’t feel entirely deflated to turn down help she actually might currently need.

“I don’t mind waiting until she gets here.” Nico shrugs, again not giving her a natural opportunity to say no. He nods towards the apartment, gesturing for Poppy to start making her way over. “We both know she won’t take the stairs.”

Something about the way he so casually recalls information about her best friend plucks at her nerves, just a little, reflective of the part of their lives they had once shared with each other like it was nothing, but she shrugs it off, beginning to head towards the apartment with the roll tucked under her arm.

“I thought New Years was your favourite holiday?” He asks once they’re both inside, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him and somewhat trapping her in his presence echoing throughout the room. He doesn’t allow for any kind of prolonged silence between the two of them. If Nico Hischier is good at anything, it’s getting people to talk to him.

It’s not entirely that she doesn’t want to talk to him.

She does.

She’s wanted to talk to him every day for the past 4 months that they hadn’t talked - has been craving even mundane, casual conversation about the weather or traffic on the way into work, but now, as he yet again indifferently recollects such personal details about her as if they have remained close, she begins to feel uneasy.

“It is,” she gives a half-hearted, dismissive response. 

“Then why are you all grumpy?”

“I’m not.” She frowns, eyebrows furrowing and arms crossing as she turns to face him, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue.  

She’s not trying to be difficult. Or maybe she is. She is in a particularly bad mood, but she had thought she’d done a good job at masking it. He’d been around her all of 2 minutes and saw right through her. 

“Jack said you’ve been off all morning.”

Like he cares, she thinks, her mood souring further at the fact he doesn’t see through her or even care at all, he’s here at the request of someone else. Following up on his duties as a captain and fulfilling a favour for one of his actual friends.

Embarrassment floods the pit of her stomach, and rears its ugly head in the form of her biting tone when she replies, “Jack’s been out all morning, how would he know?”

“He left you to do all this on your own?” Nico frowns, gesturing around to the half-way set up apartment. All that’s left to do aside from put up the decorations she’s just lugged up is set up the food and drinks, and Poppy figured she could leave that task to Jack so that it all remained fresher for longer. 

“I do this kind of thing for a living, remember?”

She cringes inwardly at the venom in her voice, turning away from him with a huff and missing the way his posture deflates. 

“You run events, Poppy, you’re not an assistant.” She can hear his heavy footsteps follow as she moves to set up the photo-booth area. “If I’d known he had you running after him all morning, I’d have-,”

“Called someone else to come help me so you could carry on avoiding me?”

She really is wound up now. Jack bailing on her to do God-knows what while she sets up his party had been one thing - there was a rational part of her brain that would tell her there would no doubt be hiccups in trying to source a bunch of DJ equipment in New Jersey on New Years Eve and he hadn’t actually bailed - and she could write off Nia’s disappearance due to the fact Poppy had sprung the plans on her last minute when she got home and called her last night, and she was bound to show up at some point. But Nico implying she is letting Jack walk all over her and needs anyone’s help to get through setting up a basic party is downright offensive. At least, in her stressed out state, it is - and so she can’t find it within herself to bite her tongue about their situation any longer.

If it drives him away and brings back her solitude to finish setting up without him occupying any precious mind space, so be it.

She almost forgets a key fact about the man before her. He doesn’t give up so easily.

“I’m not avoiding you.” He bites back, stepping into her space and helping her lift the backdrop roll to fit into the brackets she had set up earlier when the structure for the booth had arrived. “I would have come to help you, myself, Poppy.”

She wishes he would stop saying her name. 

4 months of radio silence and he’s thrown it at her like a dagger twice in the span of 30 seconds, the way his it rolls of his tongue in a low, smooth rasp scratching an itch she didn’t know she had, and now she can’t shake it. 

“I’m fine,” she huffs, reaching as far as she can and pressing until she hears the brackets click into place. At the brief noise, Nico catches on to what he needs to do at his side and manages to click it into place, barely lifting his arms. She moves into the middle of the structure, pulling at the velcro tab holding the roll together until it cascades to the floor and unveils the backdrop in its entirety. 

“What else needs doing?” He asks, his tone gentler this time.

“Nothing,” she mutters, winding the velcro in between her fingers to occupy them, before moving to pass him and make her way to the next task on her list. It’s only small things now. Arranging the balloons, setting up the arch, clearing table space for the equipment when Jack finally arrives home. “You can go, I’ve got it.”

“Mohn,” Nico sighs lowly, warm hand clasping around her forearm as she attempts to pass, holding her in place beside him. 

She really wishes he wouldn’t call her that.

If Jack is the prince of childish monikers that make her insides curl, Nico is the king of making her melt.

The nickname takes her straight back to the days before the waves of the summer break washed their friendship away. The times where he’d give her a ride home from the Prudential Center after work, whispering a, “Goodnight, Mohn,” in her ear as they hugged goodbye over the centre console in the front of his car. The times she’d meet up with the team to celebrate a win at their favourite bar, and he’d throw a never-casual, “Looking good, Mohn,” her way with an appreciative once-over. 

And it takes her even further back to when they had met, and she’d first offered her name.

“I’ll be interning with the content team, my name is Poppy,” she had offered a bright smile, reaching her hand out for him to shake, and making sure to keep a firm grip, just like her father had taught her, when he places his hand in hers. As she had done since she was a child, it was instinctual to follow up with, “Like the flower.”

“Mohnblume,” he had uttered, a smile so deep his cheeks dimpled into deep valleys.

“Huh?” She had been only a little bit caught out by the way his eyes shone, forgetting her manners as her head tilted to the side in confusion.

“Poppy flower, that’s what it is in my language.”

“Oh,” she had exclaimed, furrowed brows raising, a soft flush warming her cheeks, “Pretty!”

“Very.”

She had convinced herself for a long time that it was just his way of remembering - an aid in blurring the lines between the two languages that, especially back then, he often found himself mixed up in. And then, after a while, using it seemed to bring a protected familiarity between them - like an inside joke - and he’d use it less in front of others and more in the times it was just the two of them.

Years down the line from hearing it for the first time, and months down the line from hearing it for the last, her heart still thumps the same erratic beat at the sound.

Nico’s eyes still shine the same way when he looks down at her, and she fights every fibre of her being not to think too much about it. Or not to think about the touch of his hand on her arm, still holding her in place, the two of them closer than they have been in a long time, now.

It’s painfully easy to forget the months of distance after only seconds in his immediate company - to wipe from her memory the reason for her reticence and to push down the stubborn desire to push him away.

Her lips part to speak, and she doesn’t know if she’s about to turn him down or take him in, because another voice fills the apartment before any words get the chance to spill out.

“I come bearing gifts!” A sing-song lull breaks the silence as her best friend makes her presence known, entering the apartment with a drinks carrier in one hand, and a to-go back over the other wrist. 

Poppy steps away, shaking Nico’s grip from her arm, and turns to give Nia her full attention, hoping that she is either too hungover or too focused on herself to see or care about the obvious tension between her and the captain. She manages to bite her tongue from letting a Thank God slip out, and makes her way over to retrieve a much needed drink.

“They were out of chai so I got you an iced tea,” Nia holds out the drink to Poppy, and then the to go bag, “And half a cinnamon roll.”

“Half?”

“What? I was hungry too.” Nia scoffs, turning her attention to the brooding presence on the other side of the room. “Sorry, Nico, I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Would you have only eaten a third if you did?” He trials a joke, and when Poppy sneaks a peak back toward him, he looks apprehensive - scratching at the nape of his neck as if anticipating a bad reaction to his attempt at lighthearted humour.

“I’m sure Poppy doesn’t mind sharing if you’re starving,” Nia makes her way to the bar set up by the kitchen, placing her own cup down and shrugging off her purse beside it. 

“I wouldn’t dream of depriving her of half a cinnamon roll.” While his words are directed to her best friend, Nico looks at Poppy with a wistful smile, and she can practically see the memory of an old shared routine wash over his eyes. 

A weekly ritual of meeting by the PATH station close to both of their apartments on a free morning for a run, and then catching breakfast to go and grab a juice or a smoothie for the walk home - abandoned just like all the other little traditions they once had together.

Nico and Poppy had been close, before. Closer than she is to Jack, now - closer than she’s been to anyone else on the team, ever. So close that Nico knows her best friend enough to joke around with a familiar ease; so close that they’d even hung out as a three before, back when the girls shared an apartment in Poppy’s first year with the Devils, and he had been the only person that Nia had ever been happy to share her childhood friend with. 

And now, Poppy stands between them in a silence so uncomfortable she feels like the room is shaking.

She hasn’t talked to Nico in months, and hasn’t talked about him in just as long, but she knows Nia can read her like a book. 

The girls had grown up together - been through everything side by side, pinky fingers intertwined with an eternal promise of friendship and understanding. The demise of relationships, friendship group implosions, familial hardships, Nia’s goth phase, the time Poppy wrecked her hair dying it a vibrant cherry-red because her high school crush said Ariana Grande was hot - she still shudders thinking of how her hair glowed red in any direct light for years in the aftermath. Through middle school, high school, college, and all the way up until now, the pair know each other inside out.

So Poppy knows that Nia knows something happened.

Nia knows that Poppy hadn’t been able to go a day without bringing up the Swiss Captain before the summer, and then all of a sudden, she didn’t mention him at all. But she also knows her friend well enough and loves her too much not to have pressed on an open wound.

“It looks insane in here, Pop,” Nia gawks at the set up around her, every corner of the open plan layout of Jack’s large apartment decked out with decor and party amenities. “Do you guys go this hard every year?”

“Depends who’s hosting,” Nico shrugs, knowing when it had been his turn the year before, his event had been much more lowkey. Poppy had seen the pictures, had been sent an abundance of wish you were here snapchats around midnight from the Captain himself. Jack has a thing about his reputation that won’t let him even consider doing anything lowkey. “I forgot this would be your first year coming.”

“Oh, we’re not coming.” Poppy covers her mouth as she speaks around a bite of her food, unable to wait until she’d finished her mouthful due to the immediate urge to shut him down once again.

“You’re not?” He almost sounds disappointed. She doesn’t dare check for the furrow of his thick eyebrows or the pout of his lips. “Jack said he’d convinced you.”

A flash of anxiety shoots across her chest at the thought of him considering her attendance. Had he asked Jack? Had he mentioned her specifically - pushed him to convince her? Or had Jack just brought it up in an offhanded comment?

“I just agreed to get him off my back about it.” Her choice of words is only slightly intended to hurt. She and Nico were no longer friends - she hadn’t been the one to make that decision. Despite that fact, she tries to suppress the guilt clawing at the base of her throat at the wash of understanding that passes over his features. A solemn nod, gaze bouncing to the floor, lips pressed together. “We have plans with our friends.”

“Actually,” Nia’s voice captures both their attention swiftly - Poppy’s head whipping around in subtle alarm and Nico’s in anticipation. “Blake’s flight back from Arizona got cancelled, and Kelsey bailed on me last night because she got Covid of all things over Christmas.”

“What about Emma?” Poppy asks, hoping and praying their hermit friend has all of a sudden grown some stellar social skills and agreed to carry on their tradition for the sake of Poppy’s sanity.

“She double booked with her boyfriend, and he’s a huge drip I don’t really wanna hang out with those two all night.” God damn Emma and her tool of a boyfriend, Poppy thinks. “At least if we come here, we’re still close enough to your place we can make it back for fireworks on the roof.”

“We get a great view of them from this building,” Nico makes his presence known again, attempting to offer a solution. “If you didn’t want to walk back home so late.”

“See, Pop,” Nia claps her hands together with a grin, “We get to come to a cool party, don’t have to worry about creeps following us around all night, and still get to hold on to tradition. Win, win, win if you ask me!”

“Right,” Poppy sighs, knowing now that Nia has her heart set on the plan, there’s nothing she can do about it. Any persistence on her part would be too obvious. “Fine.”

“Awesome! What’s left to do?”

Poppy eyes Nico, knowing she’d told him only a few minutes ago that there was nothing left. “Just need to clear a table for the equipment Jack’s getting,”

“Which one?” Nia asks, making her way over with her iced tea in hand once Poppy points toward the table in the corner by the wall-to-wall window. “Are you helping or just standing around looking pretty?” 

Nico’s cheeks flush, a subtle warmth arising to his skin, and he gives a bashful chuckle.

Poppy feels a little nauseous, and it’s not from the sickly sweet half of a pastry she’s just forced down.

Nia’s eyes flicker between the two of them like she’s at a grand slam, and her lips twist to hide a smile.

“I actually need to head out,” he says, gaze darting quickly to Poppy before turning to her best friend, “I have some things I need to do before tonight. It was good to see you, though, Nia.”

Nia hums around the straw of her drink, giving a dismissive wave. “You too, see you later!”

Nico begins towards the door to the apartment, and just before he passes Poppy, he stops. He doesn’t reach for her this time, doesn’t step too close, but she can feel his presence regardless. And every hair on her body stands to attention like she’s been shocked by static when he says, lowly, “I’ll see you tonight, Mohn.”

She can only nod in response, not trusting her voice to speak, not trusting her eyes to look into his and be able to look away. 

After he departs, there are a few minutes of an ear-piercing silence. Poppy can hear every movement Nia makes, from the slurp of her drink, to the manner in which she throws things around with little care for where they end up. And louder than anything, she hears the violent thud of her heartbeat in her own ears.

“So,” Nia drags out when Poppy joins her at the almost empty table. “What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?” Poppy and Nia have known each other fifteen years, she doesn’t know why she hopelessly thought that would work.

“Don’t play dumb,” Nia scoffs, “You and Captain Sexy,”

“There is no me and Nico,”

“But you know who I’m asking about,” she scoffs like she’s caught her best friend out, and then adds, with a suggestive wiggle of her brows, “So you do think he’s sexy?”

“What are you, twelve?” Poppy rolls her eyes, “He’s the only captain we’ve been in a room with, pretty obvious who you were referring to.”

“Admit it, Poppy, I saw the two of you when I came in, you totally wanna jump his bones, you have for as long as you’ve known him.”

“We’re not having this conversation, Ni.”

“The hell we aren’t!” Nia grabs her best friend by the shoulders, “I’ve bitten my tongue for months, Pop, watching you mope around and get all glum whenever work is brought up. I couldn’t get you to shut up about the guy before, what the hell happened between you two?”

“Nothing happened!”

“It totally did!” Nia can spy the aversion Poppy is attempting from miles off. “Don’t tell me you two finally hooked up and you didn’t fill me in,”

“He has a girlfriend, Nia.”

The way Poppy says it is like a period to a sentence. End of conversation. End of speculation. It doesn’t matter what they had been before, or what they are now. It doesn’t matter what she feels. There is no her and Nico because he is someone else’s. That’s the crux of it.

“Since when?” Nia frowns. 

“Since the summer just gone.”

And there it is. Understanding washes over the face of her best friend, and Poppy has to force herself to look away. 

He’d maybe been with her before that, too, but Poppy doesn’t actually know the entire timeline of it.

All she does know is that he’d come back from Switzerland with a drop dead gorgeous model hanging off of his arm, and he no longer had a use for Poppy in his life.

She knows other little bits, that she’d sourced from parts of conversations with others, or potential social media sleuthing that she will never admit to even with a gun to her head.

Talia, a model from somewhere close to home back in Europe, and Nico had hit it off at some festival when he’d gone back to Switzerland for his break. He’d very quickly and very clearly become smitten with her. Poppy had seen as much with her plastered all over his private stories and even posted on his private instagram feed.

By the time he came back to New Jersey for pre-season training camp, she was tagging along to team gatherings, he’d take her on his morning runs, grabbing breakfast together, he’d pick her up every day after work so he could no longer drive Poppy home, not that he’d ever attempted to explain any of that to her. She was at every home game, was his plus one to every event, and Poppy and Nico’s friendship had fizzled out so much that she sometimes feels like the whole thing had been a fantasy, or a figment of her imagination. Something she’d misunderstood, miscalculating every interaction they had ever shared and assuming they meant the same to him as they did to her.

They didn’t.

She doesn’t think any of it would have hurt her so much if he’d have let her down easy. A sorry for bailing on you the first time she’d text him if he wanted to meet up for their weekly run and he’d left her on read would have lessened the blow. He could have been straight up with an I just want to focus on my relationship right now. That would have been the decent thing to do, but he’d just dropped her, instead. Didn’t come around her office for lunch, didn’t text her after training when one of the guys said something stupid and he thought it might make her laugh. He’d cut her off from the intimate parts of his life - ghosted her, even - and all she could find it in herself to do anymore was miss him.

She’d made attempts to bring him around, at first. Tried speaking to him at work, tried texting, but after a few weeks of staring at the delivered sign at the bottom of their message thread, she had given up. It still taunts her every time she opens it up to delete the entire thing and move on like he clearly has - erasing all the inside jokes and times they had confided in one another like they meant ever meant anything in the first place.

She can count on her hand the amount of times they had spoken since the summer. Work related, entirely. A good game here and a have you seen whoever? there. Today is the first indication in months that they had ever been anything more than two people who worked in the same organisation. Friends of friends, co-workers, barely acquaintances.

Not people who know each other’s favourite holidays and are chummy with each other’s friends.

“I’m sorry, Poppy,” Nia frowns, “I didn’t know.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs, attempting nonchalance despite the stinging in the back of her throat. “Let’s finish here so we can go get ready.”

Nico

Nico Hischier isn’t the biggest fan of New Years Eve. He isn’t really a fan of the festive period, at all. He isn’t a scrooge by any means. He can appreciate the coming together of people and the celebration of the year just gone, and the one starting fresh - but ever since he moved from Switzerland and started his career in the NHL, the holiday period has felt unnecessarily long.

His schedule is jam packed - games up until the 23rd, starting again after Christmas on the 27th, and again after New Years on the 3rd - and there aren’t enough consecutive days together to celebrate in the way others get to do this time of year. 

He knows he has to make do with the fact - a small price to pay for living his dream - and his teammates help, all sharing in their sacrifices and trying to make the best out of a bad deal. But he can’t help but feel a lack. A lack of tradition, a lack of family being around, a lack of normalcy.

He remembers the holidays as a child, spending time at home with his parents and his siblings, having two weeks at home for his winter break and getting to spend his days doing whatever he pleased. As someone who moved overseas at such a young age, he looks back on those times fondly. 

But now, living at least 8 hours away from the rest of his family, this time of year only serves to remind him of the isolation that creeps up on him like a bad cold.

It starts at the beginning of the month, the sniffly nose period of the bug, when chatter starts around who’s doing what for Christmas. Decorations go up, parties are planned, names are passed around in a hat for Secret Santa, and discussions begin around who is managing to go where. 

Next comes the tickle in his throat - the last game before Christmas, where the team all depart and separate with temporary goodbyes as those who have family nearby all get to go home - their parents arranging home cooked extravaganza meals, reuniting with their siblings, exchanging gifts - and Nico, for the 5th year running, feels like a bit part in someone else’s festivities as he and a few of the other European guys all bustle into the dining room of whoever is willing to accommodate them for the day. 

Then comes the rest, the sneezing, the coughing, the lethargy, in the period between Christmas and New Years, when everyone is reeling off the back of their celebrations and looking forward to ringing in the next year with a big party. 

Nico had thought this year might have been better. He had been in a relationship, there were parts of the holidays he could tweak and adopt into his circumstances - exchanging gifts with a loved one, bringing her along to Christmas dinner at Jesper and Nicole’s place, and not having to feel like a third wheel or like he had to shrink to fit at the kiddie’s table. 

He’d even tried to start his own holiday traditions with Talia, his girlfriend. He’d booked an overnight stay at a fancy hotel on the Upper East Side in the middle in the month on one of the rare occasions he’d had two consecutive days with no game or other commitments - despite how hectic his schedule had been. He’d taken her Christmas shopping down Fifth Avenue like she’d talked so much about how she’d wanted to do ever since she came out to New Jersey with him after the summer. He’d taken her ice skating, away from the Rock so that it didn’t feel like work, they had bought and decorated the tree in his apartment together, he’d brought her along to every team holiday event.

And on the day of their home game against Anaheim on the 17th, just a few days after their trip into Manhattan, in the middle of the third period, she had unceremoniously dumped him with an I’m just not feeling this anymore. Over text. As she was already at the airport preparing to fly back to Munich to spend the holidays with her family. He had slumped into his locker after their brutal 5-1 defeat and couldn’t believe what he was reading.

Nico wanted to be angry. As he read the text, he could picture any other person throwing and smashing things. Calling her up and demanding an explanation - because it was clear she hadn’t been feeling it for longer than she let on, considering she was about to board a no doubt fully booked flight across the Atlantic in the eleventh hour. 

But there was too large of a part of him that just felt relieved.

Talia was great.

He had met her properly in the summer when he had gone home to Switzerland, but they’d had mutual friends long before. He’d liked a couple of her instagram pictures here, she had responded to a few of his stories there, and then they had been formally introduced at a friend’s party.

Things with her were easy, at first. Nico wasn’t looking for anything serious, and she had ticked all of the right boxes. She was good company, always down to do whatever he was doing with whoever he wanted to do it with. She recognised that summer was the only time of the year he truly had to himself, and she let him take the reins on how he wanted to spend it.

She would go on hikes with him, would lounge around in the sun if wanted, go to parties, go to festivals, join him on little weekend trips to Ibiza or Mallorca. And she was a great release when his training had picked up. She would work around his schedule. He’d invite her round to his apartment and he had enjoyed spending time doing nothing with her after a long day at the gym or at the rink.

She had slotted so perfectly into that version of his life that he gave very little thought into inviting her into the rest of it. 

She was beautiful, sociable, charismatic - and then she became hard work.

When summer was over, and he invited her to spend some time back in New Jersey, she didn’t quite grasp how much things would need to change. She constantly wanted to have plans. Wanted to go to parties, wanted to go out, be around other people, take little trips - and he had tried to accommodate her the best he could, but he didn’t have the time for himself, let alone for another person, to be doing things all the time. He had tried to tell her as much, and she said she was okay with it, said as long as he was present with her, she could settle for not doing the things they had in the summer, but she expected too much from him. 

She wanted Nico’s attention at all hours of the day, weaving herself into every aspect of his routine. He wanted to run? She would go with him, could really use the fresh air. He wanted to do some solo training at the gym? She had been meaning to work on her lifting. He couldn’t go to the grocery store - could barely even go to work without her wanting to be there. His phone would blow up whenever they were apart, and if he didn’t text her back straight away, she’d become cold - making him feel guilty and grovel for her forgiveness.

Talia was fun, until she wasn’t. Until she was exhausting, and Nico couldn’t keep up with her any longer. 

She didn’t give him the grace to have an off day. He was tired, he was struggling, and when the season kicked into full swing, and the team’s schedule was packed, he became unable to juggle it all.

His work was suffering, his star was dimming, his body ached and his performance dipped - both in his professional and personal life. 

And so, after the detonation of their relationship, a break up text felt a little like a wake up call.

Talia had contributed so much to the deterioration of normalcy in his life, that Nico was still trying to piece back together his routine 2 weeks later. 

His holiday period this year had been spent in a haze - and it wasn’t for the reason everyone thought. He had caught the pitiful glances sent his way over the dinner table at Christmas, had seen the way the couples in the room tried to spare him of their PDA whenever he was around, and he could have told them it was okay. He was okay. But there was a large part of him that was trying to figure that out, still.

He had known he wasn’t heartbroken. He wasn’t shooting off texts to Talia and begging for her to come back. He’d already boxed up what little belongings she had left behind and was going to ship them internationally after the New Year had passed. He had deleted, not archived, all their photos on his private socials, and had even deleted most of them from his phone. He wasn’t in pieces over the fact she had ended things.

But he knew something still wasn’t right.

At first, he had thought it was work related. Their worst week of the season had happened just before Christmas - 3 losses at home in the span of 5 days - and he thought that could be the reason for his slump. Then, they won against Detroit and he still felt off.

Then, he thought he had been anxious about Christmas - about showing up on his own, having to explain his breakup to everyone not quite caught up on the news yet, and he would have to wallow in that same old feeling of watching everyone else enjoy the holidays. But Jesper and Nicole had thrown together a pretty nice day for the guys. The food was great, the company was great, and he’d gone back to his apartment that night with a feeling of relief - like he’d been dreading something for so long only for him to have genuinely enjoyed himself.

And finally, as if being thrust into a freezing cold ice bath, realisation had washed over him on the morning of the team’s final home game of the year against Columbus. 

He had been walking through the back offices of the Prudential Centre when he had stumbled upon a conversation, and had heard Poppy Jensen’s voice for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I’m just kinda beat, to be honest, J,” she had said in response to a question Nico hadn’t caught. He had thought no one would be around, most of the Foundation staff having the week off, and hadn’t expected to come across anyone on his venture to the best vending machine in the building. The Foundation offices were often frequented by kids, and had an assortment of candies throughout their machines instead of the protein bars or rice cakes elsewhere in the staff areas. At the sound of her voice, he had come to an immediate halt, peaking around the corner where he could see into her office. She was moving some things into a box on her desk and Jack Hughes was reclining in the chair in front of it that once had been claimed by Nico as his own. “I’m all social interaction-ed out, the holidays have kinda beat me to a pulp, I don’t think I could keep up with you guys, I’m sorry.”

Nico watches as she swats at his feet when he tries to kick them up onto her desk, and can’t quite see the crease between her brows as she frowns at their mutual friend, but can remember how it used to form all the same. “You’re such a bullshitter,” Jack had scoffed, clearly pre-empting the stapler Poppy would throw at him, managing to catch it with ease. 

“You can’t call me a bullshitter in my own office,” she gawked, “You don’t see me marching out onto the ice and calling you an attention whore.”

Jack had thrown the stapler straight back. She caught it all the same, and dropped it into the box.

“You haven’t hung out with us in forever!”

“We hung out at the Toy Drive like 2 weeks ago!” There had been two toy drive events organised by the Foundation in different parts of town, and, as he had long become accustomed to, Nico had been put on the one separate to the event Poppy was working. It had been fun, but when he’d checked the social posts the next day and seen the pictures posted of the other team - all smiles between them, a slightly blurry Poppy in the near background of all of Jack’s pictures to indicate how close they had been throughout the event - he had felt like he’d missed out on something.

“That was work, it doesn’t count, Popsicle.” Nico could hear the roll of Jack’s eyes.

“Yeah, well some of us don’t consider helping underprivileged children and spreading Christmas spirit ‘work’, Jack.” Poppy had used air quotes to emphasise her sarcasm, and a fond warmth had spread throughout Nico’s chest at hearing her hold her own against someone as brazenly wise as Jack Hughes. “I thought we were hanging out, having fun, improving our community together. You should really check your ego!”

“I sh-,” Jack had managed to cut himself off, no doubt realising how loud he had gotten. “You’re the one who’s been avoiding the whole team all year, ‘cause you’re hung up on-,”

The door to Poppy’s office had slammed closed before Nico had a chance to hear the end of his teammate’s sentence. Their voices had been muffled after that, and shame had started to creep up on Nico at the fact he’d been eavesdropping on a private conversation.

He’d foregone the snacks he originally snuck off in search of, and returned back to the locker room to get ready for his practice skate. 

For the first time in a long time, when Jack arrived and threw himself down on the bench beside him, Nico had wanted him to bring her up.

In the months prior, he would freeze up at the mention of Poppy Jensen, not wanting to face the reality of his dwindling connection to someone who had once been such a huge part of his life. He had other focuses - namely, Talia - and reflecting on what had once been between the two of them did not serve any kind of good purpose. It opened him up to uncomfortable conversations that he wasn’t willing to have, uncomfortable realisations he couldn’t quite come to terms with, and he had been too comfortable avoiding any kind of confrontation around it.

But in the short time between witnessing the conversation between Jack and Poppy, and getting ready for the team’s morning practice, too many questions had been swirling around his mind, and he needed answers.

Why was Poppy packing up her desk?

Why was she avoiding hanging out with the team?

What was she so hung up on? Had something happened?

He’d spent so long avoiding even thinking about her, that he all of a sudden felt like he’d missed everything.

Luckily for him, Jack Hughes needed little to no prompting for his blabbermouth nature to prevail.

“You know, for someone who’s literal job it is to lead us as a Captain, you’ve done terribly at warning me just how stressful this whole New Years thing is,” Jack had huffed as he began changing into his practice gear.

“I did nothing but warn you,” Nico responded, “You called me Mr Grumpy Pants and told me I was just afraid your party was gonna be better than mine.”

“Yeah, well, you should have insisted, it’s stressing me out.”

“You’ll be fine,” Nico scoffed, running a hand through the mess of his hair and leaning back into his locker. He watched Jack’s jittery movements as he shrugged on his pads, and felt the need to reassure his friend. “Everyone’s looking forward to it. As long as there’s plenty to drink and decent music, people will have a good time.”

“Not everyone,” Jack grumbled, “I can’t even get Poppy to come and she loves parties.”

So that’s what they had been talking about. 

Poppy did love parties, but Nico couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her at one. 

“Poppy has a New Years ritual, she didn’t come to mine, either, I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it.” Nico shrugged, despite the wave of a memory that washed over him of him doing exactly that when she hadn’t showed up last year. He’d had to restrain himself from leaving his own party - spent the night texting her updates on what everyone had been doing, snap-chatting her pictures in the hopes it would entice her the few blocks over from her apartment building. He’d only been consoled by the text he’d received just after the clock had struck midnight, settling for the pride in knowing he had been one of the first to get a Happy New Years message from her - knowing it wasn’t just a mass text she would have copy-and-pasted to everyone else, and had been personalised to him with a bunch of perfectly curated emojis and exclamation marks after his name.

Nico didn’t see Jack’s stiffened posture at the way he had so nonchalantly mentioned her for the first time in forever. Didn’t see the side eye, or the pensive twist of his mouth as he carefully considered his next words like he was about to step through a minefield.

“I’m gonna keep trying,” he had sat back down on the bench beside Nico to put on his skates, “I’m definitely her favourite, she’s been helping me organise the whole thing, I don’t think it will take much to convince her.”

Nico tried not to show any kind of reaction to Jack being Poppy’s favourite, or at the thought of how much time they must be spending together to organise such an event. A part of him knew he was only saying it to rattle him. “Cutting it a little fine, aren’t you? New Years is in a couple days, and the guys from the Foundation aren’t even around this week, are they?”

“She’s covering someone on content until January, I said I’d drive her home after the game and me and Lukey can double down on it. And if we can’t get it done tonight, she’s coming on the road with us at the end of the week. I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Oh,” Nico was thankful for how Jack had leaned over to tie his skates up, because he wasn’t entirely sure he’d been able to mask whatever had flooded over him at the revelation that his teammate would be driving Poppy home.

That was his thing. He was pretty sure his passenger seat was still positioned to her liking despite how long it had been since she’d sat in it. He was still working his way through the stash of smiley face air fresheners she had stashed in his glove compartment. He still felt like he was forgetting something every time he left the parking lot and she wasn’t sat beside him, chatting his ear off about some of the kids she had worked with in the day.

“Maybe you should ask her?”

Nico’s eyes shot over to meet Jack’s in alarm. “Me?”

“Yeah, the more people that ask, the more she might feel like she’s missing out. Flash her those cute dimples, how could she possibly say no?”

“I think I’m the last person that’s gonna convince Poppy to come, Jack.” Nico had tried to be nonchalant about it, but he had come across so painfully uncomfortable that he could feel the hair on his arms stand, not liking the ache that spread through his chest at the statement. 

There was once upon a time that cheering Poppy Jensen up had been a large part of his routine. Even small acts, like bringing her a coffee on a busy day, where he knew she wouldn’t take a break to go get one herself, and knew how much she disliked the stuff from the pot in her office. Sending her texts from across the room when there were big organisation meetings and he could see her chewing at her fingernails at the vast amounts of information being spewed about. Tagging her in cute animal videos he’d come across on TikTok when he was across the country on a roadie and on a different timezone - she’d wake up to them sometimes, and he’d wake up to her response.

“Right, I forgot you two aren’t friends anymore.”

“Is that what she said?” Nico had swallowed down the hurt at the thought of her coming to that conclusion - vocalising it to someone and finalising the decision before he had any chance to do anything about it.

He couldn’t really blame her, though - he’d had plenty of chances.

Nico could feel himself beginning to spiral, words swirling around his head like a tornado of realisation and guilt. 

Aren’t friends anymore.

Avoiding the whole team all year.

Jack is driving her home.

He’s her favourite.

Aren’t friends anymore.

Shit.

He didn’t even take in Jack’s response to his question. As much as he wanted to know the answer, he couldn’t bear to hear it. 

Nico couldn’t face up to what he had truly lost.

It wasn’t his girlfriend of five months, who had dumped him over text during the most wonderful time of the year. It wasn’t a few games, that, sure, it had sucked that they had been beat, but in retrospect, the team had had a pretty decent start to the season, and shouldn’t have had his back up that much. 

Nico had lost someone who had, at one point, been the most important person in his life. 

The person he would usually have gone to to help him through the other stuff - the breakups, the losses, the stress, the anxiety - the crushing weight that had been pressing down on his chest since he had left for Switzerland at the beginning of summer. 

Nico and Poppy used to work around each other like a beautifully choreographed, well-rehearsed dance. She always knew when he was overwhelmed or exhausted, he always knew when she was stressed or upset, and they both knew how to pick the other back up. 

They hadn’t even fallen out of sync when they’d stopped talking to each other, only this time, they were moving around each other. If Nico entered a room, Poppy would leave. If she knew he was going to be at a team party, she’d make up an excuse not to go. If someone mentioned Poppy in casual conversation, Nico would quickly change the subject. All of it had been subconscious, on his part, at least.

It had been so easy after such a prolonged distance between the two of them to move when she pushed, to watch when she ran, like he had grown into his part in their relationship akin to repelling magnets, always moving away from one another.

It had been so easy that he hadn’t even really realised what was happening - lost and handicapped by a thick fog clouding his thoughts and his judgement. He’d let their once blooming friendship wither and die, and for what?

As he had watched Jack waddle out of the locker room for their practice session, muttering a dismissive, “Whatever, I’ll figure it out,” to his Captain, it was like he had been awakened into full consciousness. 

Nico had thought that his turmoil had started with the holiday period. Had thought the ache of homesickness had swirled in with the grief that came with the loss of his relationship, and the shame his poor performances on the ice had thrown upon him. But it had started long before that. He hadn’t been himself since he’d returned from his summer break. Before that, even.

Without realising that he had lost her, Nico had spent the last few months subconsciously mourning his friendship with Poppy - the crushing weight of that grief consuming him to a point that he felt lost with no way out, and had expressed it in a bunch of misguided ways.

He reached into his bag to retrieve where he had stashed his cellphone, scrolling through his Messages app until he stumbled across Poppy’s name. The last text had been sent in September, by her, and he had never responded - had never even opened it, the blue dot to the left of their message thread taunting him with chirps of how awful he had been to ignore it.

Poppy: Hey, can we talk? I miss you.

How late is too late to reply to a text like that? He could only hope she still felt the same way.

Turns out, 4 months might be too late.

Nico has drafted an embarrassing amount of messages to Poppy over the days since that conversation in the locker room.

His notes app has a whole folder dedicated to her. Bullet pointed lists, random memories that made him think of her, structured essays that laid out a timeline of their friendship, and all the mistakes he would need to beg for her forgiveness for. 

He’d tried sending a message when he had got back to his apartment after the game against Columbus, feeling a rush of confidence from the adrenaline of their OT win, his high had soon dwindled when he was alone. He sat staring at all the different iterations of an apology he could offer, and had even chickened out of the final draft of a very simple but hopefully effective, ‘Hey.’

He knew he was overthinking it. A conversation starter would at the very least open the door for the apology, and all he needed to do was talk to her in some way - but that turned out to be easier said than done.

She wasn’t in her office when he’d gone to seek her out at work the next day, and when he realised she was probably in the content and media offices, he felt like he would be cornering her if he sought her out in front of anyone else. When the weight of how far removed they now were from each other’s lives dawned on him, a text felt too informal, and so the paragraphs sat untouched in his notes. The weather hadn’t been too great, so he couldn’t try and intercept her on the running route he knew all too well, and even attempting to orchestrate a seemingly random encounter outside of work seemed too creepy so stopping by the cafe around the corner from her apartment in the hopes she’d be there grabbing a latte was off the cards. 

He’d seen her on the plane to Ottawa, having to pass her seat to get to the team section at the back, but he had a few people boarding behind him, and she had her eyes cast toward her cell, headphones on and typing intently to somebody, he couldn’t even offer her a friendly smile to try and warm her up to the possibility of a conversation.

Between their win against the Senators, and their loss against the Bruins the next day, there wasn’t much time, or energy, really, to seek her out, and so he’d had to press the breaks, but as they flew back to New Jersey from Boston, a panic had started to swirl within his chest.

Nico knew he couldn’t enter a new year without clearing the air, and so time was well and truly running out. He again had seen her on the plane, and when he had plucked up the courage to get up and go sit with her, Jack had beaten him to it. When the plane had landed, and the team bus had driven them all back to the Rock, the Hughes brothers had both walked her to her car to see her off for the evening. 

For someone who had been not-so-subtly trying to initiate a reunion between Nico and Poppy for so long, Jack Hughes sure knew how to get in the way. But, he was easy to forgive - especially when Nico had woken up to his texts late this morning.

Jack: need ur help

Jack: urgently

Jack: wake up dude

Nico: I’m not driving anywhere for you

Jack: not asking u to

Jack: u will like this I promise 😌

Nico: what do you want?

Jack: need u to keep Poppy company

Jack: she’s in my apartment and she seemed off when she got here

Jack: been on her own for a few hours

Jack: so she’s grumpy 👎🏻👎🏻👎🏻 👹👹

Nico: doubt I can change the grumpy part

Nico: especially if you’ve left her alone for hours

Jack: don’t need to

Jack: ur a grump too

Jack: will cancel each other out 👍🏻👍🏻😇😇

Jack: u going down or no?

Nico: fine

Jack: I’ll be back in 1 hr :)

Jack: love u cap 😚

Nico: 🙄

And that was how Nico had found himself trudging down to Jack’s apartment, hopeful at the dream of a bridged gap between him and Poppy, and quickly disappointed by the reality.

She had been cold, rightfully so, and had made it clear as day she didn’t want anything to do with him. She had shrunk into herself, backing away from him any time he got too close,  defecting to a state of avoidance - gaze dropping to the floor, declining his offers to help her, making assumptions she was in his way, as if the thought of him seeking her out had become an entirely alien concept.

He couldn’t blame her for how she was being with him. It had been his fault things had collapsed between them - he’d come to that conclusion with the vast amounts of evidence piled up in his phone storage the past couple of days, but it didn’t make it hurt any less to see her like this - or to feel an actual, tangible resistance when he had tried to insist on being around. She didn’t want him around, that much was obvious, and it was starting to feel like it was to late to fix what he had so royally screwed up between the two of them. 

The once well-oiled machine that was their friendship was now clunky, clattering, dying a slow death with parts that were now obsolete.

But that didn’t change how much he wanted it to work. His parents had once told him when he was growing up that nothing was beyond repair, and if he wanted something fixed enough, he would figure out a way.

They had been talking about a model train he, his father and his brother had made when he was very young. The company that made the sets had gone bust, and they no longer sold the individual parts anymore - so when his sister had stumbled over something in the garage back home, knocked a box, and the once pristine collectable train had tumbled out and ended up cracked and chipped, he had been heartbroken. He and Nina had filled in the chips with wood filler, and touched it up with her nail polish, and it wasn’t the same but in a way it was better - a new sentiment attached with a memory of bonding with his sibling. 

The same thing could apply to his friendship with Poppy. Maybe they couldn’t go back to what they were - maybe they could be better.

And, when Poppy had made one too many attempts to push him away - when he had taken a hold of her after she had tried to move past him, dismissing him and his desire to help her, once again - a fire reignited within him. A spark of hope flickered at the familiarity that had flashed across her face as he referred to her in an endearment he hadn’t let himself use in so long.

In that moment - hand wrapped around her arm, just above her elbow, the skin soft and warm, close enough to smell the all too familiar cloud of vanilla-coconut scent that followed her, and her eyes locked on his - he had seen a crack in her armour.

He had seen an element of want - wanting to reconcile, wanting to fix things, wanting him in her life in the way he had been those months ago - and in a mirror of his own emotions, he had seen trepidation.

They wanted the same things, had the same fears, had the same end goal.

And when the unforeseen interruption of her best friend arriving startled her back into her withdrawn persona, he had realised something else.

Nia’s contrasting attitude toward Nico - open, friendly, familiar - had opened his eyes to the fact that Poppy hadn’t told her best friend about the demise of her friendship with Nico. 

And that, as much as it needed unpacking entirely, was Nico’s backdoor entry into the high security vault of Poppy’s good graces. 

Thankfully for him, Nia’s obliviousness to their tension had worked entirely in his favour. He tried not to look too much into Poppy’s attempted avoidance of spending the evening in his presence, despite her other plans falling apart. Tried to shoulder the blows of her sly digs at them not being friends anymore. Tried to ignore the pang in his heart at Poppy’s best friend being the one to throw flirty jibes his way, and not her. 

A determination had begun to brew within him - swirling, bubbling, steaming - and it was going to push him to finally bridge the gap he had forced between them.

His first success was her agreeing to come to the party, and he could easily build on that momentum.

Nico and Poppy were going to be friends again by midnight, he would figure out a way.

> Chapter One

[hotvintagepoll]

Peter Lorre (The Maltese Falcon, Arsenic and Old Lace, Casablanca)—to me he DEFINES scrungle hes the first person i think of every time the term comes up! i want to fold him up like a paper accordion and put him in my pocket. guy that spawned a million voice artists and impersonators. they made a ghost version of him for halloween cereal staple boo berry. bewitched by his nervous mania and tooth gap <3 (for the purposes of propaganda im linking a photo from his extremely short appearance in muscle beach party bc ive been obsessed w it for years and i couldnt find any video for it :/ anyway imagine youre frankie avalon spending the whole movie battling a bodybuilder faction thats taking over your beach and your girl and then you find out this fucking guy is their mastermind mystery leader and hes stronger than all the bodybuilders combined. like Huh. What.)

Tony Randall (Lover Come Back, Pillow Talk)—he's SO TIRED he's three-wheeling ALL THE TIME on rock and doris's shenanigans and he is always SMALL. PATHETIC. INHERENTLY FILLED WITH ENNUI. i feel like all these 60s comedies are very Straight Laced and Heterosexual and yet somehow tony randall is always there having the worst day ever.

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Peter Lorre

he's pretty much the archetype of the scrungly little guy. the blueprint. the example by which all other scrungly little guys are judged

The perfect sniveling character actor, “scrungly” is the first word that comes to mind when I think of him.

The entire point of his iconic role in Casablanca (apart from introducing the central plot mcguffin) was to be LITTLE and SCRUNGLY to make Bogie look even cooler. And Maggot in Corpse Bride - the littlest scrungliest guy in that film - was a parody of him.

I think Arsenic and Old Lace is his quintessential "scrungly" performance. He's so put-upon and tired...all he wants is sleep and some schnapps! I love the way his shoulders fall slowly when he thinks he's caught (he looks like a sad puppy!), only to gleefully sprint out the door when he realizes how dumb those police officers are.

Between his big eyes, wheezy laugh, short stature, and expressive faces, Peter Lorre achieved icon status as the scrungliest, littlest guy in Hollywood. His scrungly little guy energy was often contrasted with the more typical masculinity of the leading man, but whether this contrast was meant to make him seem especially sinister, comedic, or pathetic, it always left an unforgettable impression!

I'm sure somebody else has already submitted him (if not then ???) but he's a cute kind of scrungly little guy. He's got a distinctive nasal voice with an accent that is instantly recognizable and often imitated. His later horror movies are so much fun, especially when he's playing off of Vincent Price. He's so good at being unhinged, creepy, or manic, but also pathetic and sympathetic.

Classic scrungly hollywood golden age little guy who was friends with Humphrey Bogart and still played some of the wettest most sniveling characters ever committed to celluloid (complimentary) there is a deep despair and darkness in many of his characters that enhances his scrungly

To be clear, I am one of those people who will argue that Lorre is one of the most underrated film actors, but the POINT is that he's also just a scrungly delight. A delightfully pocket-sized man. Somehow endearing even when he is being actively amoral (see esp. Casablanca. "I found myself much more reasonable!") The faces he makes while doing the Russian cossack dance with a butter knife between his teeth in Silk Stockings make me laugh just thinking about them.

Wikipedia described his typical characters as "timidly devious", lots of weird little villains and evil sidekicks that are pretty horrifying but still manage to be sort of pathetic and the very definition of "poor little meow meow". His look and voice and mannerisms are so iconic they're still imitated

Cartoons for the next century have and will continue to include Peter Lorre-esque characters when needed to up the scrunge factor (see Bugs Bunny and so many more).

[editor's note on below link: I'm not actually sure how many of these characters are directly influenced by Peter Lorre, so take with a grain of salt. tw for suicide.]

The poster boy for Scrungly. Everyone who wants to draw a scrungly guy draws Peter Lorre. Gomez Addams of The Addams Family was based on him

Tony Randall

"you had everything going for you! poverty!! squalor!!!!" "girls again!!! what's this obSESSion you have with giRLS???"

[kindest-little-fella-in-town]

starl-high-t expreeesssss

aka. some doodles from a slowburn greased lightning/hydrusty highschool au me and my friend have been cooking up… explanations included :^]

⭐️

mx. electra is a polite & solitary compsci teacher who’s really damn good at their job, to the point that they have a gang made up of of 2020s-style neurodivergent teenagers from broken homes who stay in their classroom long after school is over to pick their brain about stuff and generally just hang out.

mr. greaseball is this big buff physed teacher who ALSO has a gang of teenage boy jocks that worship the ground he walks on. he’s macho as all hell and spends most of his free time in the school’s gym. whenever he’s not doing that, he’s off flirting with dinner ladies.

they do their best not to interact when they can help it. greaseball’s boisterous nature irritates electra. electra’s effortless charisma irritates greaseball. greaseball’s jocks probably shove electra’s nerds into lockers, and electra’s nerds probably give greaseball’s jocks 0% whenever they mark their tests. it’s slowburn for a reason!

⭐️

onto other folks. cb is a super senior who sells drugs to kids in the hallways, and slick is his protégé. she’s an a-grade student who uses her grades and Thrifty Siblings to cover for her crimes, because cb doesn’t really gaf about potential expulsion/grades slipping… he doesn’t even want to graduate. he’s just doing it for the love of the game…

(also, yes, control is the headmaster. yes, he is still, like, 7 years old. it’s funny to imagine ok)

hydra is a good kid. he is semi-involved in the Family Drug Business but doesn’t commit as hard, in part because he is far too busy angsting over the guy he has a crush on (who himself, poor oblivious idiot, is too busy angsting over the popular girl he thinks he has a crush on). he cries about it to mx. electra’s cult; in turn, they all try and wingman him in the stupidest ways possible.

also really random bonus but i wanted to draw it. greasebear Exists, as he does in most of my aus, because i feel like a stuffed animal would fix at least 50% of gb’s attitude problems (and also cause it’s really fucking funny). he keeps losing it around the building and has to find increasingly complicated ways to smuggle it back without people finding out it’s his (because every teacher thinks it belongs to a student, and it would destroy his manly image!). sakaki-azumanga-type shenanigans ensue…

⭐️

perhaps i will draw more doodles of other characters if anyone else fucks with this, or write some fic maybe. for now i’m just tossing niche self indulgence in ur faces lol,,,, enjoy🙏‼️:D

[sl-vega]

Hi Vee, I would like to request a sick! gn reader with some of the genshin characters (Yae Miko, Wanderer, Albedo, and Kazuha) where reader can’t really talk all to well cause of said sickness. What sort of shenanigans would ensue as our dear reader tries to communicate. It’d also be really cool if the reader knew a bit of sign language and tried to communicate that way (your choice on whether the characters know it or don’t). Have a lovely morning/day/evening!

NOW I'M (LOVE)SICK

pairings: Yae Miko, Albedo, Wanderer, Kazuha x [GN!] Reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, headcanons/drabbles, canon compliant, sick! reader, reader knows sign language

synopsis: in which your s/o tries their best to make you feel better since you've fallen ill

CW: mild language, potentially ooc, vee doesn't know how to do headcanons so you have been warned

additional notes: lol perfect timing for this request cuz I'm actually sick rn // header credits: yae header by @/k1aya on pinterest, albedo header by @/kuno on pinterest, wanderer header by @/ggoldiz on pinterest, Kazuha header by @/detailuffy on pinterest

YAE MIKO-Divina Vulpes

miss girl would be babying you 100%

kinda acts more like your mom than your s/o in this case tbh

"I told you not to go adventuring in the rain!" but then she goes back to saying shit like "aww you poor thing~, let me get some soup for you"

yae would also tease you too, cuz yk, she's yae miko

since she's not human, I don't think she can get sick, well not any human diseases at least

she tries her best to be there for you though, probably reads a bunch of light novels from her publishing house to help you fall asleep

if you try to communicate via sign language to her, she probably just hushes you and grabs your hands so you stop frantically making hand signs

cuz she wants you to get your rest

I think she does know a little sign language, but she never really committed to learning it, she'd gladly start for you though

ALSO

i think she'd turn into her fox form and let you cuddle with her like she's a stuffed animal

totally not projecting rn

ALBEDO-Princeps Cretaceus

he'd def send sucrose over to check on you if he's busy, but once he's done with his work, he is SPRINTING over to check on you

✨he's a runner he's a track star✨

maybe it's just me but I feel like Albedo would be the type of boyfriend that worries over you a lot

when he does come over, he probably has lots of concoctions that are supposed to clear your throat, but they're probably made of...

less than delicious materials

and you aren't becoming your boyfriend's personal test subject no thank you, not today

since he has a little sister, he knows how to take care of you

probably has experience cuz klee would get super sick after running around in the rain for too long-

makes you chicken soup, and tea, the usual

if you try to communicate with him via sign language due to losing your voice, he'll probably have the same reaction as yae

just forces you to go back to sleep

he def knows sign language (mr. genius🙄) but he wants you to get better as soon as possible

klee also comes over at some point, probably tells you some crazy story about how she tried to blow up dawn winery with diona or smth-

her and Albedo also make some get well cards for you once you fall asleep as well <3

WANDERER-Peregrinus

this mf

if you've heard his voice lines you already know what this bastard would say to you

he'd call you weak and say shit like "a small illness has already rendered you helpless? how pathetic..."

THE FACT I CAN PERFECTLY HEAR HIM SAY THAT-

he's a puppet so he's never been sick cuz he can't get sick either

nahida would probably slap him and scold him and tell him to be nicer though

on the inside he's super concerned about you

lowkey, he's afraid of losing you

not that he'd ever admit it-

(tsundere scara for the win)

he's worried that you're going to end up like the child he used to live with, and that you'll become "powerless before your mortality" as he'd like to say

same as yae + albedo, if you'd try to communicate with him via sign language he'll tell you to sleep

(in a slightly aggressive way but he's scara what do you expect?)

i don't think he knows sign language at all tbh

he'll ask nahida about it and he'll probably start borrowing books from the akidemiya and practices in secret for you

he WILL ruin his sleep schedule for you but he'll probably just brush it off and be like: "meh, it was easy."

when in reality this mf has spent an AGONIZING amount of time just to try and impress you

he'll make you tea too, the bitter kind

the VERY bitter kind

oml this sounds like scara slander 😭 dw I actually really like him

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA-Acer Palmatum

like albedo, he'd be super worried about you

tells beidou that he needs to make sure you're okay before the crux leaves for it's next destination

brings you tea, soup, and writes cute little love poems for you while you rest in his lap

tells you stories about his travels while holding your hand and sappy stuff like that

kazuha is a top tier boyfriend fr fr

unlike the others, if you tried to communicate with him via sign language, he let you teach him certain phrases

i think he knows a little bit due to his travels so he's picked up on a bit of it

he thinks it's really cute of how you try to explain things to him since you can't speak so you probably alternate between the hand signs themselves and pen and paper

VERY attentive to you

"slow down love, we have all the time in the world."

[panda-writes-kpop]

Hiiii hope your having a wonderful day. I enjoy reading your scenarios especially dreamcatcher and aespa. Which made me wonder if I can request aespa as your pirate GF :o

Pirate! Aespa as Your Girlfriend

a/n: Thank you for the lovely message, anon! I'm so glad you love my aespa and dreamcatcher stuff 🫶 and of course you can, dear! Hopefully, you enjoy this! Obligatory tag of @foolish-sparrow ❤️ can't write about pirates without acknowledging the Pirate AU queen! Please check out all of her stuff because it's all so amazing 🫶🫶 also I tried something new with the banners, so let me know if you like it or not!

tw: it's in order of how the girls are introduced in the Pirate AU fic universe (no, I have not forgotten about Giselle or Ningning I will be getting back to them plz have patience with me 🫠) instead of age order, booze and drunken activities, violence, pirating and other forms of stealing

♡ Masterlist ♡

Winter ~ The Captain

she's always busy as the Captain of the Red-Haired Pirates, either trying to corral her crew (mostly Karina and Giselle) or find the next place or ship to plunder.

but for you? she has all of the time in the world.

You're very famously known as her soft spot on the crew, and people will use it to their advantage.

Of course she knows this, but if you're going to continue to kiss her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear... she'll let the shenanigans slide, for now.

Winter likes to show you off, whether by letting you commit the finishing blow on an opponent or giving you a chance to show off your own unique set of skills

Most of the time you spend together is at night when you're out at sea.

She'll be busy looking over the a map or checking some coordinates when you wrap your arms around her waist

a rare smile appears on her face as you state out at the open ocean together.

"Where are we going, my lovely Captain?"

"As long as you're by my side, wherever the seas take us, my dear."

Karina ~ The Marksman

the loser (affectionate) marksman by day, the greasy (slightly drunk) flirt by night finds herself changing her ways as you two enter a serious relationship.

Karina feels much more comfortable being her dorky, usual self when it's just the two of you alone, but as your relationship progresses, more and more people see a different side of her

if you aren't a marksman like her, she takes you to a local shooting range and teaches you everything you need to know

"You need to aim a little higher on the target, otherwise you won't do much more than give them a good scare."

"I'd love to focus my aim, Karina, but you're making my heart pound when you're this close to me."

Karina is well-known on her crew for her drunken antics, especially with the various people she meets during her travels

It all stops with you - either you're watching her to make sure she doesn't get absolutely wasted, or you're the one participating in her antics while you're both drunk.

If it's the first option, you're able to pull her away from the bar with lots of affectionate or promises of stronger booze on the ship (you just send her straight to bed, and she's too tired to argue)

If it's the latter, you two often find yourselves cleaning the decks in order to avoid Winter's wrath due to the shitstorm that you usually cause.

But hey, at least you have someone to cuddle with as you nurse your hangover away.

Giselle ~ The Arms Specialist/Mapmaker

Pulling double duty on the ship takes a toll on the amount of free time Giselle has, but when she has a free night, you can be sure that she's living it up, especially with you at her side.

You'll literally have her heart forever if you help her with her daily tasks, she's so stressed out with everything on her plate.

Depending on your specialties, you're either marking the map or helping with coordinates, or you're cleaning up gun powder and restocking the gunroom with newly pillaged supplies.

It works in Giselle's favor because she always can find a reason to talk with you when you're working on similar tasks.

"Do you need some help, darling?"

"I think I can handle myself, Giselle, but I don't mind the company."

After the ship has docked and the sun has disappeared from the sky, Giselle is finally free from most of her responsibilities.

She's dragging you to the nearest bar, either to hustle some of the crew at cards or to grab a few drinks.

You tell her that it's unfair to play cards against people you can't even sit straight, but you find that your concerns are silenced when a bottle of your favorite liquor is sitting at your side.

And if you're just grabbing drinks with her, she's sure to tell you how much she loves you (and all of the awesome pirating stories you missed out on before you started dating).

Ningning ~ The "Rogue" Mercenary

The quiet, withdrawn "misfit" in the crew isn't drawn to having a friendly relationship to many on the crew, except for you, of course.

She hasn't fully adjusted to the pirating life, considering that she joined the crew after being held captive by them, so she often is quietly looking over your shoulder to understand how to be more useful aboard the ship

"You can come closer, it's easier to learn how to tie a knot when you can see what I'm doing."

"I can see fine from where I'm at, but thank you for the offer."

You invite her to many of the crew's nighttime activities, and it's rare for her to accept, but when she does, you see her cracking a smile and occasionally laughing at everyone's antics.

Ningning likes spending time with you one-on-one, and that's when she confesses her feelings for you.

Literally no one knows that the two of you are together, except for a drunk Karina that saw the two of you embrace one night (and no one believes her, to this day).

She doesn't like to teach you her trade, she went through a lot of shit to get her skills, but she will show you how to fight if you aren't the greatest at it.

You'll just have to put your pride to the side because she will beat your ass, every time, without fail.

Plus, she can steal a kiss or two while she has you pinned to the ground. She lectures you about not being distracted with a smirk on her face, as if it isn't her fault.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you have any thoughts about the Love square Ship? I just realized that a huge reason why they are happening is because they are 'fated to be together' just cuz they're ladybug and chat noir. Aren't the writers shooting themselves on their feet? 'Cause it just means that Adrienette only love each other because they're LadyNoir.

The love square has fallen into a trope I like to call the Sk8er Boi trap. This is a reference to the opening question of Avril Lavigne's famous song:

He was a boy She was a girl Can I make it any more obvious?

Yes. Yes you can make it more obvious! I'm not going to ship these two based on gender alone! Give them depth! Give them substance! Make me care.

To be fair, Miraculous didn't start this way. The first two seasons of the show did a decent job setting up the crushes. It wasn't amazing, but it was enough to see the potential, especially when you paired it with the fun of identity shenanigans. Those early seasons also felt like a promise that more depth would come with time as is typical in a slow burn.

Instead, as time went on, the crushes became ever more superficial because the show has committed to maintaining a status quo that doesn't allow for a deep, meaningful romance. Without that depth to really sell the ship, Miraculous is relying on the audience shipping the love square because Adrien and Marinette are the endgame couple and that's about it. The quality of the relationship doesn't matter. All that matters is that the show says that they're meant to be. It's disappointing, but annoyingly common.

For reasons beyond my understanding, there is a decent subset of the population who are happy to play this game. If the writing says, "these two are meant to be," then this audience is happy accept that no matter how little substance the couple has. Heck, they'll ship couples that are straight up toxic!

The audience in question seems to be here for the drama and the passion, not the love and depth. Give them twists that come out of no where! Give them ridiculous miscommunication! Give them poor characterization! They'll take it all so long as it's shocking and dramatic. I don't get it, but it's not a fringe preference. It's straight up popular right now. Couples like this dominate mainstream romance, YA, NA, and romantasy. They're all obsessed with drama over depth, but that's the opposite of what I want. I will take depth over drama every day.

My ideal romance is a cute boring couple made interesting by the extraordinary circumstances they're dealing with. I thought that's what the love square was going to be, but I have given up on that hope. It started to really die in season four and season five straight up killed it.

You'd think that a show aimed at kids would be free of unhealthy romances since there are a lot of topics a Y-7 show can't touch, but apparently not! Season five's love square feels like it's an awkward, kiddified version of the kind of trends that have made me avoid mainstream Romance, YA, New Adult, and Romantasy for the past few years. Every book I've tried made me rage (insert reductive "are the allos okay" joke here). So, to answer your question:

Aren't the writers shooting themselves in their feet?

Not really. They're not writing a deep nuanced romance, but they are writing the type of frustrating, drama-laden romance that some people adore. As long as a subset of those people are willing to watch Miraculous, the show will be successful. I don't get it, but Goodreads has shown me that people love this shit, so I'm stuck waiting for the current trends to die off or for a new genre to pop up that leans towards what I like. Such is life. It's not like there's nothing good out there. It's just harder to find since it's not on trend right now. Plus there's always fanfic! That's my main source of romance. I look for other things in original fiction.

[halitis]

Teen Roy Harper and Oliver Queen shenanigans? I usually just see grown up Roy with Ollie but I crave more of a father - son bond.

ty for sending through the ask! they send me fucking INSANE!!! i love complex parent-child relationships and i think a lot of people see roy’s speedy era with ollie as just. all bad. but it isn’t! ollie is a good dad overall, yes he has had horrible moments and made lots of mistakes but he did work hard to fix his wrongs (n-52 ollie and roy's first re-meeting can go suck my left tit).

(sorry i took so long to respond! these posts actually take quite a while to type out, and get my thoughts down.)

the first time roy got sick while he was with ollie, ollie was stressing. he’s not ready for this! stitches? easy. girl troubles? no problem. but a fever and runny nose? oh god oh fuck. he’s relying on what he’s seen parents do in movies, so he decides to read roy a story! roy is certainly too old for this and also Doesn’t Love reading, but he bears it because it’s kinda funny for a bit. after like third time ollie tries, roy just goes “pls. you don’t have to do this. lets just watch a movie or something.”. now it becomes a tradition that whenever one of them gets sick, the other will just chill and watch movies with them. they don’t need to talk, the quiet company is much better.

roy genuinely looks up to ollie, so much. he admires the man in everyway, roy grows as a person in ollie's presence. roy developed his sense of justice and ethics from ollie (you can see it through how they both prefer to try and change the system over the individual). i think for the longest time, ollie could do no wrong in roys eyes, which is why their relationship fell apart so harshly because roy had unrealistic expectations of the man and ollie wss just... Not being a good father in this moment. it took a while to adjust his self worth to not be based off his perceived value to others.

[continued under read more]

ollie may be a lot of things, but he is Not dumb enough to not give roy the sex talk. is it the best? probably not. but he was VERY serious about having it when roy moved in, because he remembers himself as a teenager and is just like "oh god. oh GOD..." (he likes to think hes not like regina georges mum, but he deffo is.... ur getting old dude :/ sorry to tell you)

(DONT COMMENT ON THE FACT THAT HES WATCHING PORN. IM AWARE. I DONT QUESTION ANYTHING THIS MAN DOES ANYMORE)

when ollie first starts going out with someone, roy goes and gives ollie the exact same talk. in front of his date. ollie is just like "ahaha.... kids right?" roy has to spend the night at hal's house hiding out from him. (not out of any serious fear of repercussion, more playful).

i know the stereotype is that ollie's always getting into fights over politics, but it is actually so incredibly both of them. these two only increase in energy and passion when with each other. catch ollie going "YEAH THATS MY BOY!" when roy is chewing the fuck out of someone.

to me? they are both so autistic... idc no one can convince me otherwise. ollie doesn't realise till he hits his late teens, and even then hes in denial about it. he comes to terms with it a bit better after the island, so when he starts to recognise the same things in roy? he is quick to give that boy all the support he needs. he refuses to even let anyone talk shit or about it near roy, because he is so petrified of the the same internalised ableism he had manifesting in roy too.

ollie gets a small tattoo for roy, nothing big. probably just a little one on his back or ankle or something. he didn't even really plan to do it? it just happened. he sends roy a pic after its done and roy is just. emotionally wrecked.... he does not know what to say.... how does he even express what this means to him? its a permanent commitment to him. (he ends up just messaging back "looks ugly :/", ollie can read between the lines well enough to know what he means).

the first near death experience roy has with ollie he gets Fucked Up over it... he's already lost 2 other father figures, he can't lose another. he doesn't say anything about it, but hes attatched to the hip for ollie for at least 2 weeks... ollie didnt even realise why till he mentioned it off handedly to diana and shes like.... thats a child. hes scared. Fix It. they still dont talk about it, but ollie stops getting snappy at roy for following him around.

okay i have more to say, but im actively about to get in the car so i gotta go!!! anyone feel free to send another ask if they want me to finish up laterz!

aND FOR U ANON... WHO WAITED 50 YEARS FOR ME TO FINISH THIS.....

I <3 U

[jesncin]

I’d really like to hear your thoughts on MAWS characters alongside Lois, if you want to do that of that’s entirely up to you but it would be really interesting ^_^

I've written about maws a fair bit on this blog! You can find my general thoughts on the jesncin talks maws tag and my massive maws Lois essay here for my thoughts on her. Suffice to say I'm not a fan of this show, lol. I haven't been able to stomach watching season 2 so my entire knowledge is limited to season 1. With that said, roundup of my thoughts on maws characters:

Clark Kent: boring. Vanilla. Critical lack of hero motivation and idealism outside of "people are getting hurt!" as a platitude. Just some guy who does chores because that's the nice thing to do. Not defeating the Superman Is Boring allegations- just has an uwu cute cinnamon roll himbo filter on it.

Lois Lane: xenophobic asian lois lane is the worst crime ever committed to me. A historically jaded, award winning, accomplished career woman fighting against work place misogyny is now a cutesty uwu girl-failure who needs the help of two men to get hired. Barf.

Jimmy Olsen: I get the attempt at making him a conspiracy theorist as a means of tapping into Jimmy's wacky silver age antics and to bounce off of Clark for shenanigans, but it doesn't meaningfully interrogate how that is at odds with his job as a journalist. Also he was sidelined hard in S1- more than he was in CW Supergirl.

Perry White: I was hoping that unlike STAS and if MAWS was going to pull from anime, that this meant strong relationships with Superman's cast system. But nope. Perry is just a running gag. I was hoping for a Snapper and Kara dynamic like in CW Supergirl.

Scoop troop (Cat Grant, Ronnie Troupe, Steve Lombard): Superfluous characters, easily delete-able. All of which have been reinterpreted as anime stereotypes. Yawn.

Newskid Legion: Also delete-able and a waste of my time. They should be called newsies. They make no sense as outdated characters placed in a futuristic setting. What is child labor doing this late in the game. Be more creative with modernizing outdated characters.

Pa and Ma Kent: Boring. The biggest problem you can have with the Kents is making them generic supportive parents like they're sentient Hallmark cards. Pa Kent got the bad end of the stick as the clueless parent, while Ma Kent was pushed as the heart of the family to Clark. Not that she did much.

Vicki Vale: Absolutely insane of this show to add another Asian xenophobe woman journalist. The MAWS crew love gloating about how they're not going to include Batman in MAWS, but they can't resist putting a Gothamite in their show and stealing rogues from other heroes. Could've brought Angela Chen (a canonically asian Metropolis reporter) from STAS but I guess she's not as big a name as a Gotham character, eh?

Livewire: the glowdown of a century. DCSHG continues to outperform every modern version of this character. Why make her a generic smuggler when her original job as a shock jokey is far more interesting?? Podcaster or influencer was right there. Her motives make no sense too.

Intergang crew: Why. Did they consolidate. Banshee with two random rogues (Mist & Roughouse) and call them Intergang. That's so many glowdowns at once. I've never seen someone look at a hero's diverse rogues gallery and say "let's consolidate all these characters so we have less material to work with in the future". I hate how the rogues are all tech based, and share the same origin. These baddies kickstarted the show's "villains with petty crime motivations": no ideological or thematic draw to them.

Ivo/Parasite: Another villain with nonsensical motivations. His business is going bankrupt so he sets up an investor event party to show off his Black Panther Lexo suit (which was apparently a response to Superman! A stranger that we can't trust! And somehow these expensive suits are more trustworthy) only to attack his investors and get owned by Superman. Then he just has a hateful vendetta against Superman. People who think this is a good Parasite interpretation because they projected vague Elon Musk are kidding themselves. I could clown on MAWS' Ivo all day. He is so badly written.

Heatwave: Why genderbend a Flash villain when Superman already has a Fire Woman in his rogues gallery? Volcana? Remember her? She's from the same show yall got Livewire from? Praise this show all you want for "reigniting interest in Superman", it's clear they're willing to toss away actual Superman cast characters for more popular characters from other heroes when it suits them. What's Heatwave's motivations? Petty crime.

Slade Wilson/Deathstroke: Imagine building this character up to be a big threat only to do nothing with him lol. I can't take him seriously, his voice acting is the worst and I hate his design. This show is so desperate to make attractive villains for fangirls it's frankly pathetic. How did people even mistaken him for Superman? He doesn't FLY.

Mallah and The Brain: This is what happens when you revive gay villains and put them through the HarlIvy Respectability Beam on fast forward. The gay villains aren't villains anymore! Because that would be bad representation! They're now cute cuddly domestic dads who want to raise robot children and run away together!! How TRITE. Mallah has "american faking a french accent" syndrome but bad voice acting is the norm in this show.

Mxy: The one time they include a villain that Lois and Jimmy could easily help Superman defeat (Mxy's whole deal is that you can send him to his dimension by tricking him to spell or say his name backwards) they opt to make it even dumber by just "removing his hat". Because the MAWS crew aren't smart enough to think of ways Superman and his pals can trick Mxy. For the record, CW Supergirl got this right in comparison.

Legion of Loises: It's the way this show can't write competent women even when that's the goal. All the characters act so stupid and that includes the Legion of Loises. At least MAWS!Lois learns the important lesson that even though she's not as accomplished as these career focused versions of her, at least she can keep her man. Misogyny in a cute package.

Alex/Lex Luthor: Go away. Ugly design I can't stand him. Miserable voice acting as usual.

Amanda Waller: She's pretty generic here. Playing second fiddle to Sam Lane for the most part, but this show has a problem with fleshing out Black characters in general so.

Sam Lane: We now have up to THREE asian xenophobes in MAWS season 1. The crew did not think their diversity through because at the end of the day S1 was really about a White Guy Alien getting oppressed by mostly people of color. Without a hint of irony.

Jor-El: I thought the language barrier between him and Clark was an inspired choice and clever as a means of postponing Clark learning about his heritage. But nope. Jor-El just starts magically talking in English later on. Otherwise boring and generic!

Brainy: I know he's prominent in S2 so I can't speak much for his character from the small impression I got of him in S1, but I can say that he looks mad ugly <3 truly horrible rogues designs in this show.

PHEW!! That's my roundup of MAWS character opinions! Wild how I can't even pinpoint a character I like on this show, lol. I know Kara's in S2 as well, and what I've seen of her sounds awful. Her design is bad too. I'm just not ready for the heartbreak of meeting that version of her because I love Supergirl so much :((

[covetyou]

a dress up!Joel interlude

tomorrow (29th May) I'll be posting the next part of dress up!Joel, lovingly titled ghosted.

in the meantime, have this interlude of sorts that I've been sitting on for weeks (and honestly thought I posted back in April, whoops.)

main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

rating: Explicit (18+ only!) word count: 969 warnings: more brotherly shenanigans, sex toy talk, mild relationship angst, alcohol consumption summary: Joel's egg hunt couldn't have gone worse, and so he confides in the one person who has his back no matter what - his baby brother.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

Shooting the shit with his little brother wasn't something Joel Miller ever thought he'd enjoy. But, with age and maturity, there wasn't anything quite like sipping cold beers in his backyard, his brother yapping away about work, or girls, or the playoffs, or just about anything else, as they relaxed at the end of a long week. Tommy could talk, and Joel could listen, and that's how it'd always worked.

"Hey, you still got that thing I gave you," Tommy suddenly asks, after giving Joel a blow by blow of his latest conquest - some blonde he met at a bar and didn't even know the name of.

"What, this pain in my ass? Yeah."

"Very funny. Nah, I mean that ballpedo thing. Turns your balls into a torpedo."

"Balldo."

"Yeah! You still got it? If you ain't usin' it, ain't no use in it goin' to waste."

Joel lifts his beer, the condesation leaving a dark ring on his jeans, and takes a sip, averting his eyes from Tommy.

"Still got it."

It was stuffed at the bottom of his sock drawer upstairs. After Christmas, and his uncomfortable walk back home with the thing still strapped to his balls, it took him a little while to pry the thing off. The lube he'd spread over himself was turning tacky combined with your juices, and wetting it just made everything too slippery. But, eventually, he was free, and he cleaned the thing up and left it to dry, as if there would be any opportunity to use it again.

It was a happy coincidence that Sarah was with her mom again on Valentine's day, and your calendar for that day was empty - he noticed when he was fixing a drip in your kitchen sink. Given you enjoyed Christmas, he thought you might like something else too, and he was happy to be right. On Easter, he was going to leave a note for you for his little egg hunt, hoping you'd wake up Saturday morning and make your way over to his place to find the final prize.

He hadn't expected to get caught, and he hadn't expected things to be left as they were afterwards. Now the memory of all of it left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Can I go grab it? I'll take it off you."

"Nah... nah it's okay," Joel says, with a non-commital wave, as Tommy stands, taking a few steps to head inside.

"C'mon, if you ain't usin' it, I can take it. Mom never teach you to share your shit?"

"I'm always sharin' my shit with you, I said no," Joel shoots back with finality, unable to stop himself from mumbling into the rim of his beer. "You wouldn't want it now anyway."

Tommy was never one for being quick to catch on, and for that Joel was grateful. Though, maybe this time he underestimated his little brother. Tommy still makes a move to head inside, likely to rifle through his shit to find the toy he'd given Joel so long ago, but he stops in his tracks before pulling the patio door open.

"Holy shit," is all Tommy says. "Holy shit."

"You remember you're an asshole again?"

"You used the fuckin' ball thing?!"

Joel's silence says all Tommy needs to know.

"You gave yourself a dick for balls and you didn't tell me? Fuck I've been wonderin' about that thing ever since I gave it to you. It good?"

Joel doesn't really know what to say. He doesn't want to say anything - he wants to keep his fuck up with you his own tragic little secret, but now the balldo's out of the bag, he can't exactly dodge the question. Tommy was a persistent bastard when he wanted to be, and Joel knew that he was going to be extra persistent with this.

"It... yeah. Yeah, it was good."

"Wait... fuckin' wait a minute. This mean you got a girl?!" Tommy's face lights up as he asks, and Joel can feel the color drain from his. "You got a girl and you didn't bother tellin' me? You wound me, brother."

Shaking his head, Joel takes another swig of beer, hoping it'll wash the memory of the taste of you from his mouth. It doesn't.

"Nah. Didn't get the girl."

"You fuck it up that bad?"

As much as they could piss each other off, they always had each other to fall back on. Usually, of course, it was Joel picking up the pieces for Tommy, but there was an unspoken agreement between them that meant no one was keeping score. No one owed anyone anything, they'd always be there for each other, whether it was one time or a thousand times. So, against his better judgement, Joel tells Tommy everything and, for once, Tommy listens.

"Only one thing I don't get," Tommy muses when Joel finally finishes with a sigh. "If it was a misunderstanin', what the fuck are you doin' here with me, and not over there with her, explainin' yourself?"

"She told me to leave. I don't wanna intrude any m-"

"You broke into her fuckin' house, brother, think you're long past that."

Tommy slides the patio door open, half inside, half outside, and looks back at his big brother.

"Take it from an asshole who knows - doin' nothin' ain't gonna do shit. You don't get the girl, you don't get your shit rocked. Talk to her. You got nothin' to lose. If she don't want anything to do with you, nothin' changes, and if she does, well... you get the girl, and you get your shit rocked."

He hated to admit it, but Tommy was right, and Joel had never felt so fucking stupid that he didn't come to the same conclusion sooner.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd make this right.

[fortune-maiden]

The Hundred Line: Slasher Route

8 more endings obtained, 2 of which are needed for that plot lock. I'm now at 20 endings and

...jesus christ what even was this route ._.

The Good

I mean... I was on the edge of my seat the whole time! This route is a mess and a half, but it was certainly entertaining

Several characters got a chance to shine! Kurara has regained a lot more goodwill, Takemaru, Shouma, & Kyoshika also had some great moments

I was on the Goodbye Kiss route first, and the twist about the killer felt really obvious overall - VLR this ain't... so the real twist was what happened when you weren't on the Goodbye Kiss path because WHAT THE HELL IS EVEN HAPPENING???? I'm still super confused about the Dead Takumi path because after everything that happened in the Serial Killer path - WHO THE HECK????

(But also... regardless of which path you're on, it seems like Takumi always killed Eva? Which doesn't really make sense with the Zombie path? Especially since it feels like killing Eito is also something that was the G'ie's will more than his own)

I think this route was great in setting up more mysteries though! Alongside all the other shenanigans, we have an interesting new enemy in the G'ie, mysterious visitors which the plot lock heavily implies may have been alternate versions of Takumi & Hiruko. I feel like we also haven't seen the last of the G'ie since Hiruko mentions learning about them in another route, and it definitely wasn't the Slasher route where we learned about them! I also loved how Endings 72 & 76 tied into each other. In Goodbye Kiss, Hiruko questions when Takumi got infected, and in History Repeats, we get our answer. And the implication for other routes is also horrifying. I'm really looking forward to how the other routes will tie back to this one!

And speaking of Hiruko... Tsubasa is still undisputed Best Girl, and puts in the work every time, but HOLY HELL DID THIS ROUTE MAKE ME LOVE HIRUKO MORE! Don't get me wrong - so much of the serial killer route had me questioning her terrible decisions so hard but at the same time, unlike certain stupid decisions in a certain other route, I could still understand where she was coming from and why she was committing to her bad decisions. I really love the role Hiruko seems to have so far - Takumi thinks he's in a time travel story where he made the conscious choice to turn back time and thinks every route is his first trip back, while Hiruko knows she's trapped in a time loop story and approaches things very differently as a result. I like how she remembers the loops which suggests there is some order to them - or rather, the order that Hiruko & Takumi experience events is different. It reminds me a bit of Gnosia in a way with how the two loopers keep closing each others loops. Takumi is the only person Hiruko can open up to about her situation and has clearly built up a level of trust and camaraderie with him over time, but also she has to watch the same events play out over and over while he thinks each loop is the first loop. It's heartbreaking, and I really can't blame her for wanting to believe in and protect Takumi as much as she did. It also just makes the serial killer path feel so much worse from her perspective

They did some really interesting stuff with the choices this time around! Definitely did not expect having to make choices as Zombie!Takumi or Nozomi but the best (and most sadistic) choice was the one you're forced to make at the end of the serial killer route. Who do you pick? Takumi will always run in the opposite direction and I think that's a very neat touch!

Since this is my first Kill Eito route, I do really like how the game absolutely is not okay with you doing this. Takumi is not in a good place mentally, FB is very wary of him, and generally people do (rightfully) treat him with some degree of suspicion for murdering a guy who hadn't actually done anything yet

All in all an interesting route though definitely not without its headaches

I've gained a new appreciation for the Romance Route and it's perfectly happy death-free ending so that's good too right?

The Bad

Hey Developers! You think that was enough chase sequences????

Also did all 8 endings really need to go to Day 100?

There were so many bad choices in this route, it's not even funny. I'm glad that most if not all of these bad choices were not actually Takumi's fault, but like. Hiruko, I appreciate you not wanting to suspect Takumi without confirmation first, but people are dying here! Gaku & Darumi - I don't even know where to start with you two idiots. And for the rest of you - so you guys know that fire & headshots are a weakness of the zombies. Half of you do not have a vehicle or a gundam as a class weapon. You're telling we can't use them against the zombies at all? Or print a weapon from the Gift-o-Matic if the hemoanima weapons are no good? Kyoshika literally has a REAL SWORD on her at all times! And you're telling me you can't camp out in the literal room with fire?

Seriously where was FB during the zombie route?

(Okay admittedly I am willing to give the Defense Room a pass for the zombie route since the group mostly hangs out on the 1st floor which is also where the cafeteria is. But for the other routes YOU PEOPLE ARE IN YOUR CLASS ARMOR FOR A REASON!)

I would make a joke about how none of you people know how to survive a horror movie but that's... that's literally the route.

I still don't get why death by zombie/serial killer is permanent in this route. All we get is that the "wounds are too severe" and "the drones don't activate in time" (why not?), but Takumi can be beheaded and survive that just fine.

With the way the route is structured, it feels like the zombie route just kind of drops all the Takumi related weirdness that was happening before. His constant exhaustion, his craving for frogs, his weird blackouts were all there before that route split and never mentioned again afterwards. I've also been accidentally spoiled on the other route that branches off the Slasher Route and just... huh??? Why that one? How is that going to mesh with all the Takumi stuff happening before that decision point?

Also Mister "I went back in time for a better ending" Sumino is weirdly fine with how much WORSE this route is than his original one. You sure you don't want to turn back time a little sooner bud?

Seriously what was happening on the Nozomi path???

Yugamu... wtf dude

The Tragically Hilarious:

The Invaders sure are a threat we need to take seriously huh guys. They feel like such an afterthought on this route and not just because I was skipping most of the battles ^^"

Seriously though... rip V'ehxness. You really did not deserve the zombie route ending. I hope you finally get your epic climactic battle in the next route

[lead-to-light]

Jade Lanolin suddenly appears in front of a crying Lanolin with a loud groan.

"Is there no version of me that's actually happy?" she asks herself before giving her younger, interdimensional self a look that her own version of the diamond cutters knew all too well. "So, what's up? Boy troubles? Girl troubles? Overwhelmed by paperwork? Did Surge get stuck in the printer again?"

Not at all caring if this older Lanolin was really from another dimension or hallucination, LTL-Lanolin began explaining.

"Tangle and Whisper," she spat, her sorrow boiling back to rage.

Jade Lanolin’s eyebrows shot up, not at all expecting this answer, "Uh-"

But it was too late as her younger alternate self was now full steam ahead, "Ever since they got together they've been flaking on me more and more! Leaving me with all the goddamn paperwork! Always coming up with some sort of excuse to get out of it saying stuff like they're doing something important when in reality they're sucking each other's lungs out!"

Grimacing at that particular image, Jade Lanolin tried to get in another word, "Woah okay let's just calm down-"

But to no avail, "Even before they got together they were doing nonsense like this! Like when they went to the beach with Jewel they sent me a text telling me where they were going! Not even an invite! And guess who had to do their fucking paperwork? ME!"

Realizing she was never getting a word in while she was like this, the older sheep decided to let her vent.

"And then today happened. I finally got them to help me with the paperwork and all they do is just bitch and moan! They even insinuated that I must love doing paperwork because I'm doing it all the time when the reason I'm doing all the time is because they're never fucking helping me!"

Holy shit you two what the hell are you doing! Jade Lanolin thought.

She was pacing now, "Then the chaotix showed up, some shenanigans happened and then I found out that they were hired by Tangle and Whisper to figure out who I had a crush on!"

"They did what!?" The older Lanolin shouted, completely appalled.

"And when I found out when they revealed that I had a crush on Surge, Whisper had the goddamn gall judge me and to try make it about her-"

"Hold up! Surge? You have a crush on her?!"Jade-Lanolin shouted.

Before she knew it, her younger self was all up in her face, "YEAH I DO! YOU GOTTA PROBLEM WITH THAT TOO!?"

Jade Lanolin put her hands up and backed away, "Nope! None at all I was just suprised!" Good God am I really that scary?

But her younger selfs shout seemed to expel all the explosive anger she had, now speaking quietly, "And then I just saw red. I yelled at them about the absolute desecration of privacy and trust they committed by hiring detectives to look into my private life. I screamed at Whisper how she just couldn't let me be selfish for once and let me love the person who's been there for me way more than them."

Jade Lanolin smothered a gasp, Shit it's flat out love!

"I yelled how they never helped me with the mundane stuff. It's just…..I don't know when exactly they turned into such fair weather friends," she muttered.

Fair weather is really the right word here honestly. She hid it well but the older Lanolin was one boiling in anger on her alternate selfs behalf.

"But the worst part was when I started yelling at them how I was the only one who was trying to figure out when the next big threat was, Tangle asked why I was so paranoid and I….I," LTL-Lanolin started choking up suddenly, prompting the older sheep to get closer and put a steady hand on her shoulder. Giving her all the time she needed. "And I told her it's because I didn't want to lose another parent," she whimpered and began to cry once again.

Just like that an age old wound was opened up within Jade-Lanolin. But as badly as the wound burned, these strange circumstances allowed her the opportunity to do the one thing she always wanted to do.

She gave her younger self a deep consoling hug. It took everything she had not to weep alongside her. She didn't know how long they had to hold each other, but she wasn't letting go first. After a while, the younger sheep let go but still looked lost.

"Is there anyone you can talk to?" Jade-Lanolin asked gently.

Sniffing wetly,, LTL-Lanolin said, "Well, Surge is out of the question for obvious reasons and Dad and I aren't on speaking terms."

DAD?! Okay a number of things are different in this universe!

"Oh wait, there is someone I can call!" LTL-Lanolin said, turning around to pick up her phone. But as she did this a portal opened up beneath her older self dropping her back into her own universe.

Now sitting on the floor of her office room, she pounded a fist into the ground, "Dammit there is a time limit! I need to start marking down how long each of these incidents take…….I really hope things turn out well for her." Picking herself up she strolled over to her desk and sat down. Turning her gaze to her paperwork stacked on her desk made her bid a hasty retreat out the door, presently unable to handle the sight of it. While walking out the door and to her favorite coffee store, a thought drifted into her mind

Tangle and Whisper never lied to me to get out of doing paperwork like that…..right?