#finally getting around to making the side characters for a series i've been thinking about for a while

[loserabby]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚.    𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃? 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 mom!abby x teacher!reader

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ .     ** MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOGI DO NOT GIVE ANYBODY PERMISSION TO REUPLOAD OR PLAGARISE MY WORK. IF YOU SEE SOMETHING I'VE WRITTEN ANYWHERE ELSE OTHER THAN HERE OR MY A03, PLEASE LET ME KNOW VIA ASK **

₊˚ 𓂃 ₊ ˚ ✧ abby anderson is in trouble, and it's all her son's cute daycare teacher's fault — at least, that's what she tells herself each time you make her heart pound in her chest. she doesn't even know if you like women but the more time you both spend together, dancing around the edge of something, the more she wonders; is she the only one whose interested or is there something here?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : explicit language, no outbreak au (modern), use of Y/N, fluff, references to sex/sexual acts, kids/de-aged characters (yara and lev as abby's kids - 6+3 respectively), lesbian pining, slight misunderstandings (they think each other are straight in the beginning), doctor!abby as well but i don't go too much into that, anxiety mentions (abby has a lot of mom guilt and stresses easily about her kids), just straight up yearning, kissing, dry humping (to quote madeline argy: "bring back dry humping"). vague mentions of neglect/abuse in side characters backgrounds. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 15,824k

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 : not gonna lie, this is the fic idea that brought me back to this site and i'm not even sorry. it was just supposed to be a small little drabble but it quickly went out of control, to the point i've had to cut scenes from my outline cause the word count was getting way too much for a one-shot. also please note: i used to be a childcare practitioner and have worked in nurseries for a few years with different age groups but i have no idea what the american daycare system is like so take the actual daycare things with a grain of salt bc idk what u guys do. i may potentially make a series out of this and add other parts in the future cause i grew quite attached to the characters in this au. also this is lev's shark backpack, for visualisation reasons, cause i fell down a rabbithole while writing and had to decide amongst three. [ read on ao3 ]

[ border credit ] [ resources for palestine ] [ boycott tlou ]

The rain is coming down so heavily now she’s finding it hard to see through her windshield as she finally pulls into the daycare’s parking lot, but arriving does nothing to lessen the absolute panic Abby feels at being a whole twenty minutes late for pick-up. This was, not to be completely dramatic, her worst nightmare come true. Lev had only been at the daycare for less than a month and she was already late to collect him, thoughts of what the daycare staff probably thought of her, what other parents who might have seen him playing on his own as the last other child finally left, had plagued her mind the whole drive over. And no amount of slamming her palm on her horn had made the other drivers speed-up.

She takes a moment to herself when she kills the engine before she sucks in a breath, ripping her door open and sprinting out into the torrential downpour, immediately feeling her whole body soaked with the icy cold rain. Shit, ‘I should start bringing a coat for myself in the car’ she thought to herself, she always made sure she had backups for the kids but always failed to forget about herself. 

Her braid is slightly windswept and completely soaked, stray baby hairs stuck to her sopping forehead when she reaches the door to the building, punching the code in with frozen fingers and finally stepping inside when she hears the door open.

She stands for a second, dripping on the doormat and wipes off her shoes. She can’t do much about the way her clothes drip on the laminate floors of the hallway, nor the way her shoes squeak as she walks down it but at least she’s not tracking in dirty footprints she supposes. When she does reach Lev’s room, her heart stutters for a second when she sees the lights aren’t all on, the room slightly dimmed. ‘Was he gone? Did someone take him away? Am I that bad of a mom?!’ She spirals mentally, before noticing some movement in the side of the room that is still dimly lit.

She pushes the door open, sighing in relief when she sees her son playing in the home corner, pretending to chop up wooden fruit and handing the pieces with a gummy grin to his teacher. You, his beautiful, sweet teacher who eagerly took the half of a strawberry he had extended to you and thanked him profusely before pretending to eat it. You’re telling him how tasty it was when Abby finally makes her presence known. 

“I am so, so sorry! That rain came out of nowhere a-and I know I only work 20 minutes away from town but I swear, no one can drive in this weather” Abby’s eyes are wide, big and apologetic as she presses a wet kiss to the top of her sons’ head. 

“It’s fine, Dr Anderson, don’t worry. When it gets like this we expect a couple of the parents to be late, especially those who work up on the mountains or outside of town.” You give Abby a soft smile, attempting to comfort her. You’re well aware of how easily she begins to spiral with worry — something you picked up on during her induction into the setting. 

She’d been stressed then, going over all the paperwork not once, not twice but three times in fear she’d forgotten an allergy (he had none) or had written both her personal cell and work number down incorrectly (she hadn’t). Then there was Lev’s trial visits, spending a few hours getting to know the staff in the room he was in and bond with them, as well as socialising with the other children. Lev had, understandably, cried big fat tears down his little face as Abby had left but she’d only made it so far down the hallway before her own eyes had begun to water.

Cue you, having seen the tall woman’s body sliding down the wall from the window, stepping out into the hallway to console Abby, of all people. Not the child but the grown woman opening sobbing into her jacket. You’d been so understanding, offering her a tissue seemingly out of nowhere to wipe her eyes, and by the time you’d pulled a wet laugh from Abby she’d realised she could no longer hear Lev crying. 

“Wha— He… He stopped?”

“Yeah, most of them do. I think it’s the whole, out of sight, out of mind thing.” You’d shrugged, “He will miss you, but he’s just realised it’s not as scary as he thought it was.”

You’d stood up then, offering a hand to Abby to do the same. She took it sheepishly, embarrassed about her emotional display but you’d waved her off. “You’re not the first parent to cry at drop off and you won’t be the last. But be prepared, he’s gonna be so overwhelmed with emotion when you pick-up he’ll burst into tears again. It’s gonna tear out your heart strings but he’s fine, just got a lot of big feelings in a little body. They all do”

And boy were you right, but it didn’t pierce Abby’s heart as much as it would have if you hadn’t warned her it was going to happen. She’d never had any issue settling Yara into school after she’d adopted the siblings, in fact she’d barely got a ‘bye’ from the six year old before she was off into her classroom leaving Abby to stand in surprise and, embarrassingly, rejection of her own daughter. Recounting that story to Manny had earned his howling laughter and a ruffle of her hair, which then led to Abby swatting her colleague and long-time friend on the arm right in front of a patient. That was a great Monday.

Maybe the difference was Yara was ready to socialise from the get-go, Lev had been clingy and shied away from people. Abby had taken some time off from working in the practice for adoption leave to help Lev settle better, finding groups for moms with children who are a little more socially wary to ease him into socialising again. Mel and Owen would say she babied him but, as Ellie once pointed out during a coffee catch-up, he kind of is a baby.

Which is why it was a big step, not just for Lev, but for Abby when it came time to send him to daycare. She knew he was ready, but it was a big step for him. She was worried he may regress, finding it hard to socialise with a larger crowd of children or having difficulty identifying a ‘safe person’ in one of his teachers.

Quickly though, Lev had attached himself to you and, in a way, after that day and — admittedly, the subsequent days Abby had also cried like his first actual day — getting to know you more during the pick-ups’ and drop-offs’, Abby found herself getting attached too. A stupid, embarrassingly quick crush had begun to form and she felt like she was a teenage girl again, counting down the minutes until she got to see her crush in whatever class they shared.

“We’ve had a great day, haven’t we Lev?” You ask with that sugary sweet smile to the toddler, the one Abby’s come to find her heart flutters at, idly tidying up the home corner Lev had been playing in when Abby arrived as you spoke. You’ve got a handful of wooden toy fruits collected in your hand, all matched together before you pull out a wooden fruit crate and toss them in as gently as possible, before setting them on the toy kitchen’s shelf. “I’ve put some photos on the app for you, we explored the garden didn’t we? And found some mini beasts!”

Abby had been immersed in the daycare world long enough with Lev to know Mini Beasts meant… Bugs? They meant bugs right?

“Got worms! ‘nd stinkbugs!” Lev shouted cheerfully, turning to Abby with his arms in the air. She was close enough, she thinks. She goes to scoop him up then pauses, remembering her soaked clothes. As if also noticing Abby’s dilemma, you jump into action.

“Got all his stuff ready, raincoat and umbrella…” Lev’s shark backpack is thrown over one of your shoulders while you’ve already got his raincoat opened up for him to put his arms into, kneeling down to help him button his coat before Abby can jump in.

“Y’don’t have to do that, Y/N” she sighs, guilt lacing the words. She knows you don’t mean to make her feel like a shit mom, so effortlessly and thoughtfully helping the little boy but it’s just another thing she feels like she’s fucked up tonight. “I know it’s probably way past your shifts ending time, I can do that”

You level her with a look, shaking your head softly. “I’m not gonna rush you guys out and besides, maybe I just like hanging out with my bestest friend ever, Lev!” She finishes the buttons on his coat, giving him the gentlest pinch of the cheek Abby has ever seen and a ruffle of his hair. Absent-mindedly, Abby then makes a note to take Lev for another haircut since it’s curling at the nape of his neck.

“Okay, I think you’re all good for your mama to take you home, Levy-boy!” She feels her cheeks heat at you calling her mama, and damn if her little crush isn’t getting out of control. She has to bite at her tongue to distract from the immediate thoughts of you in her home, in her kitchen, in full domestic bliss. You sitting on her lap on her favourite arm chair, giving the kids that doting look before saying ‘ask your mama’ when they try and get something out of you. No! Fantasies of… God, she was soft — domestic bliss, really?! — Well, they were for when her head hit the pillow.

It’s only then, when she’s shaken all thoughts of how soft your skin would be as she held you during a family movie night, that Abby notices the rain boots on his feet, a teal blue and not his. She quirks a brow, looking up at you. “These aren’t his, I’ve got ‘em at home. I know, I know, I’ll bring them in tomorrow” Abby bends to take them off his feet but your hands gently go to her wrist, small and dainty in comparison to her muscled arms. 

“They’re daycare spares, you can just leave ‘em out in the hallway tomorrow ‘nd one of us will take them to the mud room. His shoes’ll get soaked, even if you carry him so I figured I’d save him from getting wet feet.”

Fuck, see. Thoughtful.

As if noticing the attention on his footwear, Lev stretches a leg out to show the rain boot off, which earns him one of your soft melodic giggles and smiles. Abby could kiss her son for gifting them with that giggle, for that smile. 

It’s no wonder the kid let you put the rain boots on him, they’re not just a solid teal blue colour but have ocean wave patterns along the edges near the soles. “See, sp’ashin” He says, as if justifying it to his mom. Abby sighs, relenting. “Fine… Thank you, I’ll… I’ll make sure we bring them back tomorrow… And bring his ones in, y’know, in case it rains like this again”

Your pleased smile makes Abby’s stomach do a flip, so she distracts herself from it by finally scooping Lev up. “C’mon buddy, say bye to Y/N. We gotta go pick up Yara from her play-date, okay?”

“Is she doing good, I know you were a little worried about them when it came to making friends” You follow Abby and Lev out the room, finally turning off the lights in the room and walking out into the well-lit hallway. There’s still some other staff walking around, and another parent making a mad dash for the door — their child covered by their own jacket — which makes Abby feel a little bit better for, at least, not being the last parent to collect their kid. 

“Yeah, I mean she’s still a little stand-offish with people but she’s got a solid group of four friends in her first grade class so… It’s one of those kids that she’s having a play date with” Abby had pretty much gone overboard vetting that child's house too before she agreed to let Yara go unattended for dinner, so she was anxious about getting to her.

You could pick up on that, or at least the residual nervous energy from being late so you kept your response short. “I’ll let you guys head out then, but I bet she’s had a blast”

Abby doesn’t doubt that but she can’t help the tight smile on her lips, nerves beginning to boil over. What if they made something Yara doesn’t like? What if they have small portions and won’t give her seconds even if she’s hungry? What if she and her friend had a falling out cause Yara tried to mother he— “Dr. Anderson!”

Your voice cuts off her mental spiral, Abby’s blue eyes wide as she looks at you. In her arms, Lev is looking over his mom’s muscular shoulders at the rain outside of the window which is still coming down in lashes. “Wha… Sorry, did you… Did you say something?”

A faint laugh spills from your pretty lips but your eyes have concern in them as you look at the other woman. “I just said ‘Have a good night’ but you were off in your own head. Y’okay?”

Abby swallows nervously and hikes Lev up further on her hip, her sodden blazer and shirt moving uncomfortably against her equally wet skin. “Yeah, fine. I gotta go, but thanks for everything. See you in the mornin’?” It’s phrased as a question, but you both know it’s as set in stone as the sun rising.

She darts out the door, her hand over Lev’s head to secure the hood from his raincoat, before you can respond. She quickly unlocks her car, fixing Lev into his car seat at record speed and ignoring the icy pelting of rain on her back as she bends half-way into her car. It’s only when she’s got him all secure and closed his door that she looks back at the daycare’s main doors to see you still standing there, offering a small wave goodbye to them.

Abby mirrors your movement, cheeks heating once more before she jumps into the drivers seat and finally makes her way out of the parking lot.

That wasn’t the last time Abby was late picking up Lev, although it was the latest she’d ever been. That was one of the hard parts about being a working mom, the Mom Guilt™ tends to eat you alive. She’d adjusted Lev’s hours to be more compatible to her hours at the clinic, even giving herself a set day off so she could spend a day at home and collect him earlier than she would do if she was at work. But, Lev was still at the daycare from start to finish most days and she couldn’t help but worry.

It became a routine though, Abby being the first parent to arrive and the last to leave. And oddly enough, it was always you she’d see. Not that she didn’t want to see you, but it felt oddly intimate getting to spend those few minutes so early just chatting with you. 

Not that she was complaining, not when she got to see your beautiful face and hear your voice before her day began and before her night began to end. Abby wasn’t religious but she might start saying prayers of thanks to any and all deities to keep this going.

She wasn’t sure what your hours were and she’d made a joke once about how you seemed to never get to have a lie-in or go home early. She could have swore your cheeks heated just a little and maybe you looked a little… Guilty? Like a child caught doing something you shouldn’t be. But maybe she was seeing things, it still being so early in the morning.

It became one of Abby’s favourite parts of the day, seeing you at drop off and collection. Getting your full attention, and soon the conversations weren’t just about the kids but about each other. Abby learned about your time in high school and college as a kids Summer Camp Counsellor and, in turn, Abby talked about growing up in Salt Lake City with her dad, practically raised by his fellow doctors and nurses and how he’d moved up to Jackson when she headed off to college to finally slow down before retirement, opening his own practice which Abby now runs.

It felt nice, like the two of you were bonding. Abby had to remind herself to not read too much into it, you were just nice. She didn’t even know if you liked women, never mind if it was your intention to make her heart thunder in her chest whenever you’d ask about something Abby had fleetingly mentioned three weeks earlier, already forgotten herself. 

You had this magic way of easing the mom guilt she had and she didn’t know how you managed it.

Realistically, though, she knew Lev saw the daycare staff and kids more than he saw Abby and Yara and that realisation had her sobbing into her pillow while a rerun of Stargate SG-1 played in the background. 

Abby had mentioned this self-depricatingly during one of the morning drop-offs, trying to disguise it as a joke. Maybe her face didn’t sell it though, or maybe you just knew her too well at this point but suddenly she felt your hand on her shoulder with a comforting touch.

“Dr. Anderson, stop” And she did, like a pup following an order, falling quiet and looking at you with an open expression. “You’re being too harsh on yourself. It’s a lot being a working mom and you’re doing amazing, and Lev is far from the first in the building… Or even the last one to leave. I promise”

“Th-Thanks..” Abby had managed to stutter out, a shy smile creeping on her lips. She hadn’t said it for praise or compliments, in fact she wasn’t sure why she said it. Something about you just.. Made it easy for her to speak. “I just.. I think cause I see him as the first to arrive and the last to leave in this room, my brain starts to go crazy thinking of him alone for ages until the rest of the kids turn up”

You shake your head, brows scrunched up in a disagreeing face. “I swear, after you leave it’s like a stampede of kids. I’m telling you, Lev and I barely get, what?—” you look down at Lev as if asking him to confirm. He and Yara are helping set the tables for breakfast with you, his small eyes looking as if he’s also pondering your question. “Five minutes? Maybe, of peace. And at the end of the night it’s maybe… Ten, fifteen at most before you get here. But I’m telling you, he’s fine, i’m fine, and more importantly you’re fine, Doc”

Abby felt a little bit better at your words, nodding. She glances at the clock, sighing when she realises she’s gonna have to leave soon to drop Yara off at school. “We better get you to school, huh Missy?” she calls down to her daughter, black hair in an intricate braid Abby had been forced to practice doing all weekend. Apparently, braids were an important thing in first grade.

Yara gives Lev one last hug and Abby bends down to press a kiss to the top of his head before the two move towards the door. You’re murmuring a ‘see you tonight’ when Abby turns to you, “You can call me Abby.. By the way. You keep calling me Doc or Dr. Anderson, but.. You can call me Abby”

The blonde wasn’t sure why saying that made her palms sweaty, or why her heart was racing. But then you smile, lips slowly curling and eyes averted from hers. You nod your head, testing the name on your tongue. “Abby.. Abby it is then” It sounds beautiful coming from your lips and she finds herself eager to find more ways to get you to say her name over and over again now she’s heard it.

She’s walking out with a silly, dumb smile stretched across her lips, Yara’s small hand in hers when the six year old gets her attention. “Mama, do you like Miss Y/N?” She says it quietly, like she knows it’s probably embarrassing. Abby’s eyes widen, darting around the hallway to make sure no one else heard the young girl. “Wha— Subtlety, c’mon.. why, uh.. why do you ask, Goob?” 

Yara takes her hand from Abby’s, crossing her arms over her chest and looking up at her mom with a look far too condescending to be on a six year old. “I am being subtle, that’s why I waited t’be outside. And your hands get sweaty when you talk to her”

Abby stares at her daughter for a moment before sucking in a deep breath, looking at the hanging paintings of children’s art work in the hallway like it might tell her how to have this conversation. “Should we get ice cream at the diner after dinner tonight” is what she says instead, ushering her daughter along and out the door. Yara just lets her.

Soon the two of you are not just talking in the mornings and the evenings but through the day, albeit only through the daycares app. You justify why you spend so much time updating it is because you know Abby gets anxious and maybe seeing how Lev’s day has gone will help make her feel better by the time she comes to collect him.

Your colleagues give you knowing looks, all well aware that your own crush on Abby is the reason you do so much. If it weren’t for the fact you make the point to go above and beyond with all the kids then maybe then they’d have an issue with it, favouritism and all, but you don’t. Actually, bonding with Lev so much and Abby in return has made you feel so guilty you’re writing extra detailed posts for all the kids activities.

But if going the extra mile for all thirteen of the kids in your class just to see Abby’s comments on Lev’s posts, her reacting with emojis and her smile at the end of the day when she collects then it’s worth it. 

And she lives for these updates, not just like any parent would but because she feels like you’re actually taking the time to have fun with the kids, not just keeping them entertained to make the day go easier.

Her favorite post was one you made during some ‘Healthy Living’ week Abby didn’t even know was going on, about how the kids had tried new fruits and vegetables they may never have tried, all done some obstacle courses and played pretend with fake gym equipment. After that sentence followed a photo of him on the post, his big cheesy grin directed at the camera. He’d pushed his short-sleeves up past his shoulder and was flexing his ‘muscles’ to the camera ‘like his mama has’, showing off for his friends.

And when she’d asked him about it on the drive home from daycare, he’d not stopped talking about how ‘big’ and ‘strong’ (“Super-duper strong!”) his mama was. Abby printed out the photo and framed it in her office at work, her heart full at the thought her son admires her that way.

It’s Wednesday, Abby’s set day off and while she’s very much aware that there’s a pile of laundry needing to go into her washing machine and a playroom currently looking like a crime scene, she’s sat in a coffee shop on main street across from her friends. 

Her hair is, for once, free of its usual braid and left down for ease, which immediately led to ribbing from Manny. Abby’s not sure how the topic shifted, maybe it was Manny teasing her that was a gate-way, but all of a sudden you were the topic of conversation. Namely, Abby’s big fat crush on you.

Yeah, she should have stayed at home.

“Guess you could say she’s hot for teacher, eh?” Manny’s loud laugh fills the coffee shop, their friends low laughter following as the blonde’s cheeks blaze.

“Knock it off, she’s… She’s just sweet, y’know” Abby’s eyes won’t meet any of their looks, voice quieter than usual. “And she’s good with the kids, both of them. That’s, like, mom kryptonite”

“She’s a daycare teacher, Abby. You’d hope that she was good with kids” Owen laughs, his newborn splayed across his chest as he leans his chair back against the wall. It’s their second kid, a baby girl and the group have spent a majority of their get-together passing the baby around like the world’s most precious game of pass the parcel.

It’s funny, when Mel and Owen first announced they were pregnant Abby had felt sad. Not because he was her ex-husband and she regretted the divorce, wanted it to be her instead of Mel carrying his baby but just because she realised she did want to be a mom, that all her friends were also falling pregnant. She was embarrassed by her jealousy, her yearning. If it wasn’t for Mel and Owen getting pregnant after one too many wine coolers at a group ski retreat, Abby wouldn’t be where she is now— Mom to Yara and Lev, the happiest she’s ever been.

“No, you.. You don’t get it. It’s not just Lev, it’s Yara too. She doesn’t just know their quirks, she gets them. She knows that if Lev’s had a portion but he’s still hungry, he won’t ask for anymore no matter how much he wants it. That you’ve gotta put it in front of him. She knows Yara used to.. That she was the one looking after him even when she was small, so she gives her some job to do at drop-off’s and collections so she feels important but isn’t being a kid looking after a kid.” Abby’s face is burning hot now, her heart is fluttering at the thought of you and she can’t help but feel embarrassed until she feels Nora’s hand at her back, rubbing soothingly.

“Yeah, she’s too far gone. Someone take Abby out back” She hears Ellie murmur under her breath, earning a soft dig from Dina and a few laughs from the table.

“Shut up,” She huffs, taking a sip of her drip coffee and pulling her phone out. She taps through the apps and pulls up your posts on Lev’s daycare profile. “I mean, how am I not supposed to like her when she’s hardworking and it has to do with my kid. She knows Lev is obsessed with sharks so she organised this whole ocean themed water activity for all the kids with Lev as her helper. He told all the kids the different types of sharks and how to distinguish them, and he actually started to make more friends than he had before”

She’s got her phone extended across the table — Ellie, Dina, Jesse and Mel huddled together and watching — scrolling through the various posts, pulling it back for a second only to show them a photo she’d had saved to her favorites since last month.

“And, look—  I know it’s just a Mother’s Day card, we all got carbon copies, but she knows how I get and when I got it she told me about how the whole time he was making it, Lev couldn’t stop talking about me. Like she knew how much that was gonna make my day… What?” Her gushing comes to an abrupt stop, brow raised when she spots Ellie and Dina smirking. Beside them, Jesse is looking at his caramel macchiato with raised brows, wide eyes and like he’s trying to force his face to stay straight.

“What, assholes, are you gonna tell me you all got the same line?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff.

“Oh, no. We didn’t get nearly the same amount of attention as you did, Ab” Dina says pointedly, though she can hear the held-back laughter and smile as she speaks.

“What are you—” Abby starts, but Ellie is already taking Abby’s phone and scrolling to the second picture, the one of the inside of the card. She turns the phone back to Abby, but all Abby sees is the inside message and Lev’s ‘signature’ (aka his crayon scrawls which extend across both inside pages).

She looks at her friends, brows raised and a clueless look upon her face. “What, did they not write Happy Mothers Day inside yours?”

“Well let me ask the audience,” Ellie deadpans before swinging her lanky body to the side to look at Mel and Owen. “Mel, Owen, what did the Mothers Day card you guys got say on the inside?”

Owen uselessly looks at Mel, whose face is lightly scrunched in thought. “Happy Mothers Day, from… And then kiddos name, why?”

Ellie’s head rolls to the side, a look on her face that says ‘See! Told ya so’ and Abby quickly snatches her phone from the auburn haired woman’s grip before she can show her card off to the rest of their friends.

Looking at the picture again, brows furrowed as she reads: Happy Mothers Day to the best mom. Lots of love followed by Lev’s signature. It’s your handwriting, she’s learnt it by now from the few notes you’ve had to pass in regards to weekend activities for the kids and such nearby you’d recommended to her one night. In fact, it looks like your best handwriting, like you made sure each letter was perfectly legible.

Abby looks up at her friends, suddenly feeling like a teenage girl again. “S-So what, you think—”

“She wants you” Manny cuts in, laughing once again. “I’m reading that right, aren’t I?” he adds after a moment, looking at the rest of their friends.

“Okay, people who actually know Y/N, can I get a raise of hands who think she.. Might like me” The words aren’t fully out of her mouth before five hands rise in quick succession, Mel reaching over to her baby sleeping on her husband's chest and raising her hand too.

The baby’s hand being raised is what really makes Abby feel like she’s being mocked by her friends, if she’s completely honest. “Okay, couldn’t have said anything sooner, assholes?”

“Abby, how are you one of the smartest women I know and simultaneously, the stupidest?” Nora asks lazily, her tired eyes only brightening with humor. Abby didn’t know how she was even here given she’d only finished her double at the hospital at six am, and despite her many attempts Nora won’t come work for her at the clinic. Something about not wanting to use influence to get a job she didn’t earn. Bullshit, she was Abby’s friend and an incredible doctor.

“One time I picked up JJ late, before you had Lev there. She was nice and all, but I was out of the door in, like, two minutes. Took me until I had him at home to realise she’d practically herded me out of the door as she did handover.” Jesse recounts, his lips pressed together tightly as he tries not to smile. “Just saying, she can get parents out quick when it's late. So why do you think she’s havin’ these big, long conversations with you each night?”

Abby’s mouth is slightly agape, stunned being one way of describing how she feels. She’d spent so long sure her crush was silly, unreciprocated. But had she been so focused on herself and concealing it that she hadn’t bothered to look and see if maybe it wasn’t just her who felt that way.

She’s off in her own head, brows scrunched up in deep thought — replaying every interaction, every touch you’ve both shared — when Mel nudges Owen. “Hey, isn’t that…”

Every head at their table turns to look at the coffee shop counter where you stand, oblivious to the audience you’ve now earned, ordering coffee. “Yeah, that’s Y/N. Must be on her break, damn… I wish I worked on Main, practically next door” Dina whispers, as if you might hear them.

“Guys, stop looking at her” Abby hisses, averting her eyes to her coffee in front of her and hoping her friends don’t garner your attention with their stares.

“Ah, I get it. She is pretty, I see why you’re so wound up by her now” Manny throws an arm over Abby’s shoulder, pulling her strong shoulders in close and giving her a squeeze. Then, with a tone of finality, “I want to talk to this girl.”

Her blue eyes widen, head shaking side to side as she looks from Manny to the rest of her friends. “Absolutely not” 

But Dina is already calling you over, saying your name so sweetly with her hand beckoning you over. Abby can see your eyes widen with surprise and your cheeks go rosy, seeing such a large table of people apparently wanting your attention. But Abby’s sure when your eyes fix on her, even if it was for a moment, you seem to relax just a little bit.

“I’m going to kill you guys” Abby hisses though a smile at her friends before you get close enough to hear, but none of them take any notice and instead focus on you.

You stand awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do with your hands and, in the end, deciding to cross your arms over loosely. Abby’s eyes drift over to your arms as you do so, spotting dried orange paint on your skin and something glinting, most likely culprit being glitter. 

“Hey everyone, didn’t expect to see you guys until tonight” Despite your awkwardness, your humor is still solid and you don’t sound nervous at all. But you can’t help your eyes from wandering to Abby, to the sight of her with her hair loose in front of you.

It’s new, at least to you, and it kinda makes you breathless. Abby’s beautiful always but with her hair straight and down it’s just.. Different. “Hey, Abs” you shoot a small wave her way, Abby returning it with a small, warm smile.

“We try and catch up for coffee as a group at least once a month, especially with our workaholics.” Dina is quick to take the lead with the conversation, leaving Abby to want to sink into her chair and hide. “We were actually just discussing the kids crafts and you guys outdid yourselves with Mothers Day this year. Seriously, mine’s framed on the mantle”

There’s that blush at your cheeks again, one Abby wants to see again. Except she’s picturing a very different way of putting it there, one she probably shouldn’t be thinking of at a table full of her friends. Or in public.

She can’t help but wonder if you’re realising that they’ve realised a difference in their cards versus hers. Had you even meant to do it, was it unintentional but still.. With some sort of meaning behind it.

“Oh, this is Nora and Manny — they don’t have kids so you won’t know who they are but—”

“Actually,” you interject, cheeks darkening further as you do. “I think I recognise the names. Manny… Emanuel Alvarez and Nora Harris?”

Their surprise on their faces must be clear cause you're quick to finish, “You’re on Lev’s paperwork as emergency contacts, I make a point to memorise names and numbers for the kids in my group.”

You can’t see but Dina is smirking at Abby, mouthing the words ‘I told you so’. Her wife, beside her, has to bite her fist to stop from laughing. 

“Well now I feel terrible for not knowing anything about you, sit! Join us while you wait for your drink” Shit, Abby knows that voice. That’s Manny’s charming voice, the one he uses when he’s trying to talk a girl into bed or get what he wants in some other way. She’s heard it way too many times back in the day at the Tipsy Bison.

Worse, it works but maybe it’s actually the rest of the group's encouragement that makes you sit on one of the free chairs with them. “So, daycare. Sounds like you’ve very nurturing, from what my friends tell me. They make you sound like God's gift to daycare. Tell me, do you have children of your own, a husband?”

Subtle, Manny. Subtle.

You huff out a laugh awkwardly, jaw twitching as you try and find words. “No, I don’t. To both”

“No? Wife then? Partner? Hey, we’re waving all kinds of flags with this group” Abby briefly considers whether or not using the laminated menu to stab her eyes out would put her out of the misery which is Manny trying to… Wingman? For her.

“Uh, sadly no” Yeah, Abby can see the regret in your eyes for agreeing to sit with them. But she can’t seem to care at this moment, sitting up a little bit straighter when you say the word sadly. What does that mean, you wish you had a wife? Did you have someone in mind? C’mon Manny, ask more questions!

Like the cat that got the cream, his smile curls at his lips. “Ah, I see. You got your eye on anyone?”

Your eyes glance at Abby, her hair catching your attention for the fourth time since you’d been called over. It looked so long, so silky. You wanted to run your fingers through it, braid it for her. You shake out of that thought, breathing out finally like you’d forgotten to. “Uh, maybe, Jackson isn’t really—”

“Iced Latte for Y/N” Saved by the bell, or the barista in this case. 

“Shoot, I better go, but I’ll see most of you later tonight for collection. Have a nice day you guys!” They watch as you practically speedwalk to the counter and out of the coffee shop towards the daycare.

After a few moments of silence, Jesse is the one to break the silence. “Did Manny just scare our kids daycare teacher off by asking if she was married right from the get go?”

“Might have also had something to do with us all staring at her like creepy dolls” Ellie says around the rim of her coffee cup before gulping down the last of her coffee.

Manny puts his hands up in mock surrender, “At least we confirmed—”

But Ellie is quick to cut him off, “What, that she’s a girl kisser? Good going, genius, you could tell that by looking at her.”

“Pretty sure it was obvious when she gave us a group hello and Abby her own one” And as much as she doesn’t want to, she’s gotta say her ex-husband does have a point.

Abby spends the rest of the time the group remains at the cafe over-analyzing each look you gave her, every reaction you had, every word you said until it’s time to go home and rush her chores.

“I’m telling you, it was, like, the world’s scariest version of ‘meet the parents’ except it was all her friends and they were all parents of kids I was building a megablocks tower with ten minutes later.” You’ve pretty much sank yourself into the cushions of the old, worn sofa in the staff room, recounting your break to your friends and colleagues hours later on your lunch break. “Have you guys ever played Resident Evil, or seen it? That family from Biohazard? It was like that except they obviously weren’t rotting… Or evil”

Around you your colleagues laugh, namely because a majority of them are working mom’s in their early to late thirties who have no idea what you’re talking about.

“Okay, understandably creepy” Cat, one of your only colleagues close to your age, says as she scrapes the sides of her yogurt pot. “Still, objectively funny”

“So, you’re comparing getting called over by the good doc’ and her friends to meeting the parents, huh?” One of the older women, Caroline, butts in before you can respond to Cat. Her words make you wish the sofa would consume you, if only to hide the blush you knew had to be visible at this point.

It became public knowledge amongst the staff about your crush on Abby, pretty much from the start. You didn’t need to say anything, everyone sort of picked up on it easily, and suddenly it was as if you didn’t need to race to be the first to speak to Abby. No, they made sure they were busy as soon as they saw her walking into the room. 

And when you suddenly started staying late to do the closes each night and starting your shifts early to talk to her in the mornings? They let you with minimal teasing. Minimal but still humiliating. Your manager told you they wouldn’t always be able to pay you for the overtime you were doing but, in all honesty? Talking with Abby, hanging out with Lev and Yara? It didn’t feel like working. It felt right.

Sometimes you imagined it when you were at home, in your tiny apartment that felt empty more times than not. You imagined some cozy home, curled up on a sofa, the four of you like a family in a living room surrounded by bookshelves. Not only filled with the sci-fi and classics you’ve heard Abby mention she’s reading in passing but your fantasy and romance ones, the bottom shelves for the kids books. 

Imagining making breakfast, kissing Abby on the cheek before she heads out to work. Getting to see her come back from the gym, muscles strained and sweaty. You’d seen her once leaving the gym when you’d had a Wednesday booked off and the sight of Abby post-workout was enough for you to bite your fist and file the image away for later, but now your thoughts are just of easing her onto the couch and giving her a massage to ease the knots in her back.

You kind of missed when your crush first started, when your daydreams were all heated. How you’d fantasised about Abby’s form, of her manhandling you and licking into your mouth like she was starved. Of wrapping that beautiful, infuriatingly neat braid around your fist as Abby devoured your cunt, chin glistening and messy as she laps at your folds. Those were the fantasies that decided to reappear in your mind every time you saw Abby in the beginning, ones you’d have to bite your lip and try not to think of as she spoke.

Now? Now you’re straight up yearning and it’s a pain.

You huff out a sigh, ignoring the gentle, teasing laughter of the group of women. “It’s not funny, it was like I was being interrogated and all while she was sat there — not saying anything, mind you — with her beautiful, blonde hair out of that braid she always wears and I just wanted to… I don’t even know. God, is it bad if I say I just wanted to play with it? Is that a new level of sad?” There’s a pout at your lips as you sigh and Caroline reaches over to ruffle your hair, cooing softly in that motherly way she does.

“They’re sizing you up, Hon’, why else y’think they’re askin’ if you got anyone warming y’bed?” Arlene, another one of the older women, says softly. She’s stabbing her fork at some sad looking salad she’s put together but doesn’t seem all that interested in. “Betcha whole tab at the Bison she likes ya back and they’re fishin’ for her”

God, you wish. You thought you’d had a chance, the first time you’d met Abby but now you were pretty solidly aware you couldn’t be her type. Still, the thought makes your heart race.

“You’re forgetting one crucial fact: she’s not into women, ‘Lene. Has a whole ex-husband and everything” You groan out the word ex-husband like it did something personally offensive. She’d only mentioned the man briefly, no name or description but you cursed the man on a daily basis for letting a woman like Abby go.

“Whose to say Comp-Het didn’t have something to do with that” Cat mumbles, causing Arlene to lean over asking “Com-what?”

Caroline sucks in a breath, making a noise of disagreement. “I don’t know… Just cause she’s got an ex-husband don’t mean she can’t like women, or what if she likes both? You don’t know why their marriage ended, what if she realised the only cock she wanted was on the end of one of those strappy things?”

You’re groaning, head held in your hands at that comment while Cat cackles loudly. Her laugh can most likely be heard in all the classrooms and you have to reach over to smack her to get her to stop. You will not be dealing with cranky toddlers ‘cause a conversation about strap-ons of all things woke them up.

“Now I know I’m old and I don’t wanna get myself in trouble,” Arlene starts, causing you and Cat to glance at each other in silent dread. As the only two queer people on the daycare staff, neither of you knew where this could go. “But I always figured when you looked like that you kind of had to be a Lesbian. There’s takin’ care of your body and then there’s runnin’ for the Lumberjack Qualifiers, darlin’, you know?”

Cat makes a noise as if weighing up her answer, “No, sadly, straight women can be buff. It’s fucking cruel cause then we get baited but there’s no rules”

Arlene nods as if she’s digesting the information then turns to look at you with determination. “I still say her friends were checkin’ into you for her, not that you ain’t obvious about your lil’ crush on her and everything but what if she thinks you’re not into her?”

“Yeah, that Dina — JJ’s mom — she’s a tricky girl, bet the reason Dr. Anderson was so quiet was ‘cause they called you over before she knew it. I’m telling you, she was probably talking about you and got all shy cause her friends were embarrassing her”

You sit up at that, finger pointed at the older woman. “Okay, firstly— I am not obvious, I actually make a point to be extremely professional and only go all starry eyed after she leaves.” 

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, Sweetheart”

“And Secondly….” Your mouth hangs open for a second, not quite sure what else you could say to argue. The thought of Abby being flustered in that moment? It made your heart race with excitement. Cruel, cruel excitement. “If.. If you’re right, what do I.. What’s next? I can’t exactly ask her out, she’s a parent—”

Your manager's voice calls out from her office, right across from the door to the staff room. “Yes you can, as long as there’s no favoritism, favours or inappropriate behaviours that would reflect badly on the setting.” She says it in the familiar bored drawl you’re used to hearing from her, your eyes wide at the thought that even your manager is invested in your love life.

Around you, your colleagues are all trying to stifle their laughter.

Cat stands up, taking her trash to the garbage as she speaks. Shit, if she’s going back then you’re due back soon too. “You talk to her enough in the morning and at night, you can’t find a way to ask her out to coffee one day or something?”

“What, ‘Hey, I know you employ me for a service to care for your kid but do you maybe wanna go on a date with me, winky face?’”

“Yeah sure, but maybe don’t say winky face out loud” If it wasn’t frowned upon, you’d be throwing all of the sofa cushions at your friend right now.

“It doesn’t have to be a date, sweetheart. You could always ask her to hang out as friends first, then see how she is outside of these four walls.” Caroline adds as you stand, tossing the remnants of your own lunch in the garbage.

You’re nodding slowly as you leave the room, trying to convince yourself that the idea isn’t a bad one that could go horribly, horrifically wrong and end with Abby avoiding you forever. You glance at the clock in the room when you get back, only five more hours until you see Abby to see if you’ll actually do it.

Abby makes sure she’s early tonight, not just ‘cause it’s a Wednesday and she has the ability to do that but because she can’t be alone with you in that room without bursting into flames. The longer she had to dwell on your run in with her and her friends this morning, the more she wanted a zombie apocalypse to start so the undead could rip her apart. That might be more painless than seeing how uncomfortable her friends and their questioning might have made you.

Her mission is simple: get in, get Lev, get out. Try to avoid potentially seeing you look at her with disgust or any lingering weirdness. Maybe look into Witness Protection, see if they have exceptions.

She feels like luck is on her side, three other parents in the room and staff all busy talking to them. She can see you off in the corner, talking to another parent and unaware of her presence. Maybe she can keep it that way, just long enough to get the attention of another member of staff to let them know she’s taking Lev and make up some story about how they’re in too much of a rush to do a full handover.

Speaking of Lev, where the hell is her son? She can’t see him in his usual places, the construction area or the water tray. He’s not in the book corner, surprisingly, nor is he in the home corner like he had been that night Abby got caught in the rain.

She’s about to start panicking, blue eyes wide as she scans the room when she sees a familiar head of hair. Fuck, mission obstacle — He’s clinging to your legs, his toy giraffe clutched under one arm while his other is looped around your calf, his head rested against your knee. 

Damn it, thwarted by her own kid. She’d even gone to the lengths of calling in Manny for babysitting duties so Yara wouldn’t complicate her ‘get-in-get-out’ plan but all of it had gone out of the window when Lev decided to attach himself to you like a keyring.

Abby sighs, hands awkwardly going into the pockets of her jeans as she waits for you to notice her. Luckily, since Abby is no longer actively hiding from you, she’s quickly spotted. You hold up a finger, signalling to her you’ll be a moment and bend down to whisper something in Lev’s ear. His tired eyes look up and then brighten when he sees Abby, a shout of “Mama!” from his tiny lips before he’s sprinting across the room.

Abby’s quick to squat down and scoop him up, watching as he rubs his eyes with tired fists. “Tired, Goober? Should we go to sleep early tonight?” 

Despite his eyes being closed and one fist still rubbing at one, he shakes his head. “Still want my books, mama”

You must have wrapped up with the other parents in the short amount of time Abby’s had Lev cause suddenly you’re there, and even with the room being lively with other kids and other adults Abby can’t help but feel like all that noise quietens when you appear.

“Hey, Abs” You sound oddly shy, so unlike you and it makes Abby’s heart race. She thinks back to the conversation she and her friends had earlier this morning about how they all thought you might like her back and damn how she wants that to be true. 

She manages to say a hey of her own, awkwardly sounding it out and somehow making it sound apologetic. “Seems busy in here, surprised you were able to do anything with this one clinging to you like a koala. I would’a picked him up earlier if I knew he was tired, you could have put something on the app. I don’t mind”

You shake your head, reaching up to give Lev a soft stroke on his face as he nuzzles into Abby’s chest. Abby already knows he’s either gonna fall asleep on her like this or on the car ride home. “It’s fine, honestly. Wouldn’t survive in this job if you weren’t used to tired kids attaching themselves to you”

You do the normal handover, giving Abby all the information about his day, meals and toileting before there’s a pause. This is where you’d both naturally fall into conversation, where you’d share something personal like an interest in books or, in Abby’s case, whatever documentary she’s watching this week.

But no, silence. Awkward silence, like neither of you want it but you both also don’t know how to end it.

“I’m sorry!” Abby says abruptly, then mentally slapping herself in the face cause she knows she could have eased into saying that. “You know, about my friends… This morning? They’ve got no sense of boundaries and they shouldn’t have started grilling you like that. It was… It was weird, I’m sorry”

Your mouth hangs slightly open, eyes a little wide like you didn’t expect her to say anything about it, which makes Abby wish she didn’t but there’s not much she can do about that now.

“No, no—  it’s, uh.. It’s fine, not the first time parents have inquired about my personal life, won’t be the last.” 

“Still, there’s boundaries. They—  We shouldn’t have cornered you like that. I’m sorry, especially about Manny.”

The only thing that stops Abby from continuing her nervous apology spiel is your light laugh as you look at her, bottom lip drawn between your teeth. She can’t help the way her eyes are drawn to the movement, how she wishes it were her teeth your lip was caught by. She looks up just in time to see you catch her staring, which only causes the both of your faces to brighten with embarrassment.

You shake away the nervousness, shrugging casually. “No, seriously it’s fine. Besides, it’s not like there’s much to gossip about in my love life. So they were getting nothing anyway”

“Really?” Abby can’t hide the surprise from her voice, looking you up and down obviously. She couldn’t see why you wouldn’t have anything going on, you were quite possibly one of the most beautiful girls she’s ever seen.

You let out some shaky, nervous laughter as you shake your head. “Really. It’s kind of far and few to find girls who like girls here in Jackson that aren’t already taken or a word I can’t say cause there’s kids around” You let that marinate, watching Abby carefully to see her reaction.

Abby, to her credit, does her best not to react. On the outside, she’s nodding like people do to say I’m listening, continue but on the inside she feels like a teenager jumping up and down on their bed. 

“Plus, work makes it difficult to meet anyone who doesn’t get it so…” You add after a beat, a little awkwardly since you didn’t get a reaction from Abby.

“I get that,” Abby adjusts Lev where he lays on her shoulder, his tiny fingers toying with the end of her braid. She’d put it in her usual style, much to your disappointment, once she’d started stress deep-cleaning the house following your interaction at the coffee shop. “I’ve not had much time to meet anyone the usual ways, always figured once I stopped working at a big hospital and stuff, I’d have time to get back out there again but…”

She had tried after the divorce, she’d had a few casual relationships but those were all before she adopted Yara and Lev. “Plus it’s hard, with the kids. Don’t want to invite someone into their lives who doesn’t get it or who might leave”

Your eyes are on Lev as you let out a wistful ‘yeah’, eyes softening when you notice his eyes fluttering closed. Abby can’t help but watch you, watch as you look at her baby boy with a look she’s only ever seen in herself, in photos captured by friends of her playing with the kids. She wants desperately to believe you’re imagining yourself as that person Abby is waiting for, that she’s not alone in being stupid for you and you her.

“It’d be nice though,” Abby’s voice sounds slightly breathy and her heart is thundering so hard in her chest as she aims for a coolness she knows in this moment she does not possess. “Plus it’d be fun to be able to have the kids going around in a circle of ‘ask your mom’ at some point, you know”

She watches you carefully as what she says finally registers in your head, eyes averted from her gaze but moving up slightly, as if looking at an invisible camera on The Office. A soft intake of breath as you slowly nod, swallowing thickly as you process. “Yeah, pretty sure that’s every queer mom’s right of passage” You say slowly after a moment, a short laugh falling from your lips.

You look like you want to say something else, but your eyes drift to Lev again and soften with a smile. “You should, uh… You should probably head home. Someone’s decided to call it a night while we were here yapping”

Abby cranes her neck to look down at her son, softly snoring against her chest and leaving a nice wet patch of drool on the neckline of her t-shirt. “Guess I should…”

Awkwardly, she tries to toss his backpack over her shoulder but it’s difficult to get it to stay without jostling Lev. She freezes slightly when she feels you start to help, your soft hands against her skin as you position the backpack so it will stay. She could have swore your hands linger, as it tracing the muscles in her arms before you let go of her.

“See you tomorrow?” Abby mumbles as she leaves, feeling like her heart is about to race out of her chest. Unknowingly, she leaves you in the same state.

Later that night, when all the children have gone home and the daycare is getting closed down for the night, Caroline walks by just in time to see you and Cat jumping up and down and around in circles, hands clutched together as you both chant “She’s gay! She’s gay, she’s gay, she’s gay!” excitebly over and over.

You may have chickened out of asking Abby out on a date, or even to hang out as friends, but there was still some cause for celebration. “Whole tab at the Bison, huh?” she calls to Arlene when she appears behind her a second later, the manager beside her. The older woman grumbles, but her motherly smile is beaming at you and Cat. “That girls gonna be drinkin’ like a fish on your card, that’s for sure, ‘Lene”

Abby should have known something was up the moment she got three separate messages all relating to going out to the Tipsy Bison on Friday night. It started casually late Thursday morning during a lull between patients, opening the groupchat to see Dina’s message.

[ Dina ] :   Guys we should get sitters and go to the Bison tomorrow, let loose

Simple, casual. Nothing she found suspicious, because there was always a message in the groupchat about hanging out. That’s the issue with being a group of friends with young kids, you can say you want to make plans until your throat goes dry but actually getting said plans out of the groupchat? Practically impossible, especially if they don’t involve aforementioned kids.

Abby expected this to be the same, and maybe she should have questioned it when later that night the groupchat exploded with sudden interest from everyone. It was strange, how this one night everyone seemed able to commit to plans with barely twenty-four hours notice but Abby just shrugged it off. She didn’t confirm or deny if she was going, phone left open in her hand as she falls asleep on the sofa that night.

It definitely should have been suspicious when Jesse shouts her name during drop-off in the morning, catching Abby just before he drops JJ in as Abby’s about to leave, and asks if she’s going with them. 

“No, sorry, can’t. Wouldn’t have been able to book a sitter so last minute even if I tried” Abby shrugs, waving her friend off. And yet, somehow she still ends up in the dimly lit bar later that night, Dina’s mischievous smirk being kissed off her face by her wife. 

Abby’s still not sure how she ended up being talked into coming, or how Joel Miller ended up stuck babysitting not only his step-grandson but Abby’s kids as well; All she knows is Jesse walked away and she was left dazed and confused, like she’d just entered a deal with the devil.

They’re all stood at the bar with the exception of Mel and Nora who were saving their seats at one of the few round tables in the bar big enough to fit the size of their group. Manny’s buying the first round, which translates more to flirting with the new bartender. At least, she’s new to Abby — It’s been a while since she’s been out drinking like this, most nights when she needs a stiff drink she just curls up with scotch after putting the kids to bed.

Abby can’t help but feel like there’s a certain energy though that falls over the group, a weird layer of excitement and deception but that may be because Dina has a devilish smirk on her face and it’s been directed at Abby since they stepped foot into the bar.

“Okay, what’s your damage tonight?” Abby finally asks when the group return to their table, sitting with her back to the bar trays in hand with the amount of drinks Manny decided to order in this first round. Abby’s already picturing herself on a liquid IV just looking at the tray solely holding shots. She has to shout to be heard, the music loud and the bar crowded, voices overlapping

It’s addressed to the table as a whole but Dina, ever the ringleader, takes the bait first. “What? Can’t a girl be excited we’re all out for once. Drinking.”

Abby narrows her eyes as she reaches her hand out to grab a shot, looking around at the group. It’s not just Dina who makes her suspicious now, it’s everyone. Manny, for the most part, is quiet — which is worse. She can see Nora and Mel whispering back and forth in each others ear and she’d try and force Owen to tell her what they’re saying, but he’s got that far off look in his eyes she recognises as him straight up disassociating while he downs his shot and then chases it with his beer of all things.

“No, no. You’re being weird,” she shouts again, crossing her large arms over her chest as she leans forward to glare at them all closer. “What are you guys up to?”

“Nothin’, nothin’, can’t a group of people go out and drink on a Friday night without a reason?” Ellie shouts across the table, leaning on her tattooed arm while Dina strokes the skin idly. “Just cause we had kids doesn’t mean we can’t—”

“Abby, next rounds on you! You should go to the bar and grab them, grab them now” Dina suddenly cuts in, eyes unfocused and staring off behind the blondes head, causing Abby to look around the table at everyone’s still full drinks.

“How about when we’ve actually started drinking them” She deadpans, confused at the urgency in which Dina said it. Dina has a smile on her face, nodding like she agrees, but Abby can see her tells; the twitch at her cheek as her jaw grinds slightly, the way her eyes widen slightly as she tries to think of how to get what she wants. Her eyes glance around the table, making eye contact with each and every one of them and like dominoes falling, everyone picks up their glasses and tries to subtly start drinking faster.

“Okay, what the hell guys?!” The exasperation in her voice is clear as she throws her hands up in the air, looking around at the group. “I’ll still buy the damn drinks but this isn’t college, we don’t have to drink so much so fast”

“I just think the bar is pretty busy, going now might mean you’ll make it back in time for when we are finished?” Mel throws a soft smile Abby’s way, her eyes glancing behind Abby’s head every so often towards the bar, clearly trying to placate her. Sure, it was busy but it was a Friday night and pay-day weekend. It was bound to be, but it still wouldn’t warrant Abby needing to go back to the bar when all their drinks were barely touched.

“I’ll still be back before you guys finish your drinks if I leave when you’re half-way though them, quit chugging them” She makes the point of picking up her own beer and drinking it slowly, savouring the taste and looking at all their friends. In front of her Dina, eyes still off behind Abby’s head sighs with annoyance and sags into her chair, eyes tracking something off to the side. Ellie’s quick to pull her in by the shoulder, murmuring into her ear something Abby wouldn’t be able to hear even without the noise of the bar.

Owen changes the subject then, lessening the weird tension that’s in the air, by complaining about work. He works as a Sheriff’s Deputy in town but ever since Mel had their second kid, he’s been on permanent desk duty. Somehow, for the deputies that don’t get out once in a while, they’re filled with drama. Manny recounts how a patient was trying to get his number this morning, which everyone ignored as the usual Manny flirt-parade until he added that she was eighty-two and had three husbands under her belt. 

Finally, when everyone's drinks seemed reasonably half-drunk, Abby stands without saying anything to go and order but she’s quickly stopped by Jesse. “Uh, no sweat, Abby. Dina was just jerkin’ ya around. I’ll get the next round, you just… Stay here”

Okay, back to weird.

In front of them, Nora is nodding like she thinks Jesse has had the greatest idea ever, Ellie and Dina talking over each other to get Abby to sit back down. For a group of people who seemed so determined to get Abby to the bar no less than twenty minutes ago, they seem desperate to keep her at the table now.

“Nu-uh, you guys were practically chasing me over there a while back. I’ll cover it now, b’sides — I’m probably gonna call it a night after another round or two. It’s been a long week” She’s turning around before anyone can stop her, Jesse’s hands trying and failing all too late to keep her fixed facing the group. She doesn’t notice anything at first, half expecting the bar to be on fire or gremlins doing some Coyote Ugly shit on the bar.

She walks towards the bar, through the crowds of people stood where the makeshift dancefloor and the seating meets when she sees something out of the corner of her eye. Her friends think she’s missed it, that they’re in the clear, but no. She’d recognise you anywhere.

It’s like time goes still, like someone threw a blanket over a speaker to muffle the noise of the bar. The music seems to quieten in her ears, people seem to go slower as she watches you. More specifically, watch you and Cat.

Your head is thrown back as you dance, back pressed against the other woman's chest as you both dance together. There’s drinks in both your hands, but Cat still has her free one resting casually on your hip and you seem so carefree and happy, it can’t be the first time you’ve done this.

Abby’s blue eyes unfocus slightly, looking off behind you and the sound of rowdy laughter cuts in, the noise of the bar suddenly coming back to her as she realises the rest of your coworkers are also there. There’s two older women cheering the two of you on as you look like you’re grinding your ass back against Cat’s crotch.

Right. Of course. You didn’t… You didn’t like Abby, why would you like Abby when Cat was clearly…

Abby turns to look back at her friends, already trying to figure out a way to get the hell out of the bar without making them aware but she knows she can’t do that when the first thing she sees is varying looks of pity and apology on all their faces.

They’d seen. Oh god, that was why they were trying to keep her at the table. Abby’s not sure how she has the strength to but she slowly walks back to the table and slumps down into her chair, crestfallen.

She’d been so sure you liked her, or, at least, she’d gotten her hopes up that you might just like her as much as she likes you. And after you’d both not-so-subtly confirmed to each other that you did both like girls, she thought surely that was also a point in the Y/N-likes-Abby-back column but after that display?

“Shit, I’m sorry, Abs. I didn’t— I knew they were all comin’ to the bar tonight but if.. If I knew she was gonna.. That she and Cat.. I would’ve—” Dina’s apologetic voice comes quick down Abby’s ear, the other girl having appeared suddenly and quickly over her shoulder and comforting her in a hug Abby didn’t ask for or particularly want, but allowed nonetheless.

After a moment, Abby takes a short breath and smoothes her face into a mask of calmness. She will not break down at the bar, she’s a grown-ass mother of two. She is much too old for that, especially when it’s over a crush. “I think I’m gonna head to the bathroom a sec.”

Abby doesn’t wait for an answer before she’s up and out of her chair, walking in the opposite direction and towards the dingy women’s bathrooms before anyone can stop her.

There’s a pleasant buzz in your system, that familiar state of officially drunk but just barely as you move around on the dance floor. The Tipsy Bison is relatively busy, but that’s more to do with it being payday weekend and the only bar on main street rather than actual preference. You don’t mind though, whatever gets liquor down your throat after a long week is good — especially when it’s not you that’s paying.

That’s the funny thing, you look at a group of daycare teachers and expect them to be saints, yet here they all are. A group of seven women, four of which in their early fifties feeding shots down your throat and egging each other on as you drunkenly dance with each other. It is a celebration though, as it’s not every day you discover the girl you like might like you back and that you actually might have a shot, especially in Jackson. That’s why she accepts the heavy handed drinks from Arlene like a birthday girl on her twenty-first.

The music is normally ass in here, Seth’s usual playlist a total bore but there’s a new bartender he hired that actually seems to enjoy variety in music, so when you and Cat heard a song you were both actually fans of and recognised you were pulling each other on the dance floor. You were both drunk enough, courtesy of Arlene, to not care about your surroundings and dance like you’re both at a big city club. 

Cat’s arm is thrown over your shoulder, pulling your back against her chest as you both clumsily grind against each other to the beat of the song but you’re also both laughing and singing along, trying your best to not spill your drinks on the floor and make a sticky mess. 

Your dancing is too close, but you two have never been more than just friends so it doesn’t feel like there’s anything wrong with it, especially since there’s nothing that feels right about it that way. 

Abby on the other hand?

You could imagine how good it would feel to dance with her like this, although you both might be a little too grown up to dirty dance in a club like this. But the thought of it is nice. Your back against her chest, her sexy toned chest rubbing up against her abs and her tits? You bite your lips at the thought of it, of her hands wandering across your body.

Okay, not thoughts to have while your ass is pressed against your friend. You take a moment to reassess, suddenly very aware of your bodily functions.

Spinning around, you giggle drunkenly as you look at Cat. “Gotta hit the stalls, forgot how much I was drinking. If I’m not back in fifteen, send a rescue party — might be consoling a drunk girl”

She gives you a thumbs up and you make your way towards the toilets, but out of the corner of your eye you see two familiar faces. You can’t stop yourself, way too friendly when intoxicated as you skip along to the bar to see Dina and Mel as they buy a round.

“Fancy seeing you two here,” You say playfully but your enthusiasm is curbed when the two women's faces look less than impressed with you. You might be drunk but they don’t normally look at you like you kicked a puppy, do they? “We’re just out for drinks for payday, you two doing the same?”

You hope if maybe you point out it’s not just you that’s drunk they won’t be as annoyed, but Dina just nods, avoiding eye contact and pointedly tutting under her breath as if your very presence irritates her. Had you done something? Or was it just that detestable that you have a life outside of work? You didn’t think Dina would be that type of parent but there’s always one who surprises you.

Mel takes some pity, pointing to a table near the back as she speaks while Dina just huffs, visibly annoyed. You shift uncomfortably, regretting coming over more and more. “We’re, uh… all out, not something we do very often”

At that your interest piques, ignoring Dina’s attitude towards you. Your eyes are seeking something out, or rather someone, scanning all the heads at the table for a familiar face or a familiar back of the head but you don’t see it. She said all, didn’t she? Where’s Abby then?

As if knowing exactly what you’re searching for, Dina turns to you stern faced and with narrowed eyes, venom in them. “She’s in the bathroom, I’d say to say hi but she’s already seen how busy you were” Her arms fold over her chest and even in your intoxicated state, you can’t help but feel like you’re getting told off by your mom.

Your brows furrow in confusion, wondering when you’ve been busy all night? Did she mean when you helped Arlene and Caroline bring the trays of drinks over to the tables for their rounds? “Huh?”

But they’re gone before you can get a clearer answer, a muttered see ya from Dina before they’re walking away with their own trays of drinks. Your confused look follows them all the way back to their table, watching as Dina and Mel must say something cause suddenly they’re all looking at you. The stares vary from pitying to annoyed and you’re not sure why the feeling hurts.

You stumble away from the bar dejectedly, pushing your way into the bathroom and wincing at the stark overhead lighting. In the main bar area of the Tipsy Bison it’s all low lighting but in here, it’s broken overhead lighting that feels a little too cold in temperature and makes you look sickly no matter how you look really.

The sight of yourself in the mirror is… Well, a sight. Hair messy and slightly sweaty, your skin has a sheen to it too from the humidity you’d barely noticed inside the bar and your makeup — which was applied at six am and barely touched up after the daycare closed in the staff toilets — is also messy, eyeliner smudged under the eyes and lipstick barely there from the drinks. The dulled sound of the bars music makes you feel like you can actually think, which is maybe not the best idea cause your mind is swimming with questions.

What the hell was that? Why did it seem like Dina Woodward-Williams hated you all of a sudden? Matter of fact, why did it seem like a core group of your classes parents — not to mention your crushes best friends — disliked you to varying degrees. And speaking of your crush, what did Dina mean when she said Abby saw how busy she was?

Shit, Abby.

Didn’t she say Abby was in the toilets?

“Abs?” You say tentatively, your voice is rough, from drunkenly shouting over the music all night so everyone could hear you. She might have left, but behind you there is a closed stall.

After a few moments of silence, you hear a huff of breath and see a pair of feet appear under the crack at the bottom of the stall through the mirror. The door unlocks and she appears, looking beautiful and… Her eyes are slightly red, like she’d been crying and you can’t stop yourself as you turn around and move towards her with concern.

You go to reach out but she takes a step back and you… You can’t help but feel the pain of the rejection but you respect it. “Abs, Abby… What’s wrong, are you…”

“It’s.. ‘m fine, Y/N. S’all good” Despite this, Abby’s shaking her head and pushing past to wash her hands, clearly wanting to ignore the elephant in the room that was her crying in the bar bathroom.

“I didn’t realise you guys were here, you should have come over ‘n said hi to us”

“It’s fine, you looked busy… Like you were havin’ fun”

Busy… There’s that word again. Still, Abby doesn’t seem irritated with you the same way her friends did, just.. Deflated.

“Yeah?” Your dopey smile is wide, eyes are too as you stare up at Abby like she’s something of wonder. “You know, on the dancefloor” Abby then adds, words slightly slurred, definitely bitter. You’re not sure why.

“Oh yeah,” Your airy little giggle as you sway tipsily makes Abby want to wrap her arms around you and keep you close for the rest of the night. “Cat and I get a little crazy when something we actually know and can dance like we’re in a club comes on”

“Yeah,” Abby’s own words slur slightly, but even she’s just tipsy as she laughs lowly. Still, she’s hit that level of intoxicated tonight where she’s not even trying to hide her bitter tone. “And there you were a few weeks ago sayin’ somethin’ about barely any girls in Jackson. All along one was workin’ with you”

It takes a moment for you to process what Abby says, your sweet smile falling and brows furrowing in confusion as you shake your head. You move closer to Abby where she stands gripping the sinks. “What?”

“Your girlfriend? Saw you two dancin’ tonight, you seemed… Pretty close”

“Cat?” You ask, your voice small and confused. “Cat’s not my girlfriend, Abs. We’re just friends”

“Not what it looked like t’me, not with her hands all over you ‘n your ass against her”

Suddenly all the air in the dingy bathroom doesn’t feel like enough, not as you stare at Abby as she looks genuinely irritated at what she saw. You can understand it, even when you’re drunk like this you get why she probably thought you and Cat were a thing. You both were a little too handsy while you drank, neither thinking much of it but to an outsider? To someone who (you hoped) liked you watching from across the room?

You move closer to Abby, like a moth to flame, and crowd her up against the sinks with a needy look on your face. Your hands are either side of her, her own almost touching yours as she looks down at you with this intensity you feel yourself melting under. You want to wipe that look of jealousy, the bitterness, from her perfect face.

“Just friends, just drunk. Always get too handsy when the liquor is flowing” It’s said as a joke but your voice comes out too breathy, too soft like you’re trying to coax her into believing you. 

“Her or you?” The words are heavy, loaded, like one answer could mean the difference between Abby snapping. “Both” a beat, then, “You don’t like seein’ Cat’s hands on me?” 

The tension in the air is stifling, your eyes heavy not just with the alcohol but lust as you look up at Abby, mouth slightly agape as you whimper at the dark look in the other woman’s eyes. It’s answer enough about what she thinks of Cat touching you, friends or not.

Your eyes move slowly to where your hands are, moving them slowly up until your fingertips are touching Abby’s thick hands. You can hear your soft panting, feel your heart racing as you ease closer into touching her — even something as innocent as touching her hands making you feel breathless.

When you look back up at Abby, her blue eyes are dark and stormy, locked on your lips and you have to let out a shaky laugh to release some of the tension.

“This why Dina was a bitch to me at the bar?” You ask quietly so only she can hear, even though Abby is the only other person with you in the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Abby’s voice is low, rough and it sounds like pure sex to you in a way no-ones ever has. The kind of gruff voice that makes it sound like she’s parched, desperate and you have to squeeze your thighs together to ease the ache building at your core. “She got wind of your work outing. Wanted to give me a chance to make a move”

Your fingers thread through hers as she starts to speak and once you’ve got your daintier fingers interlocked with her thicker ones, still slightly wet from washing them, your hands both remain either side of Abby.

“Yeah?” Your throat feels thick, words getting caught as you say them from how affected you are. It no longer feels like you’re out in public, just caught in a bubble of yourself and Abby as you lean into her space, legs tangling so a thigh presses between hers.. It’s not just you, Abby’s starting to look equally as wrecked by the sudden proximity between the two of you.

Maybe it’s the alcohol.. Okay it’s definitely the alcohol that’s making you both this reckless. Both your chests are rising and falling quickly, small panting breaths falling from each of your lips as you both teeter on the edge.

“Would you of?”

“You were dancing with her” Abby’s voice is low, her breath hot against your cheek as your faces seem achingly close. You can hear the disgust in her voice when she says her.

Between your thighs you can feel how embarrassingly affected you are by the other woman, by the thought of her making a move on you. What if you'd danced with her tonight, got to feel everything you were thinking of when you danced with Cat.

“I was thinking about you the whole time” The words come out as a whimpered confession, like you were having flashbacks to every sinful fantasy that came to mind as you danced of Abby and you have to bite at your bottom lip to stop from letting out an embarrassing sounding whine.

Of course, Abby tracks that movement almost instantly and you can see her eyes dilating at the sight. Her expression is still dark though and she raises a single brow as she stares down at you, lips so achingly close to yours. “Yeah? Wanted t’be me you were being a little slut for out there?”

That shouldn’t make your heart race and your mouth dry the way it does, slowly your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you pant softly. You had a million ideas of what Abby might be like in this situation, if she’d be a gentlewoman and wax poetic in your ear, a downright tease or if she’d talk dirty, degrade you while making your body light up.

Your eyes are fixed on Abby’s, but they’re heavy lidded with lust and say so much while saying nothing at all. It’s pure need, desperation the way you look at her because yes, you did want it to be her you were grinding against, you wanted it to be her whose hands were on you only so her fingers would ghost across your skin and so you could tease her with your body.

And the best part is you can see it mirrored in her own eyes, see the hunger and the desperation bleeding through. Abby looks like she’s hanging on to her final restraint, the one thing holding her back from jumping you and that desire you see in her? It feels good. It feels good to know it’s not just you, that it’s potentially never just been you that’s wanted this.

You nod up at her over and over, the desperation bleeding out. God, you want her, need her and it feels like pure torture to have her this close finally and not taste her on your tongue.

“God, please let me touch you, kiss you, ‘nythin..” Abby’s voice is wrecked as she speaks and she has that same look of need in her eyes you’re sure is reflected in yours. You’re not sure how you answer, another nod, a whine but next thing you know her lips are on yours and her tongue is sliding against yours, the kiss messy and dirty as your hands go to each other's bodies.

You’ve got your hands all over the place, one fisted in her hair messing up that pristine fucking braid you’ve daydreamed of for months and the other touching her everywhere. It’s against her throat in a light hold one moment, moving down her chest and groping at her small, perfect tits the next. It’s pushing up her shirt and raking the nails against her torso, her abs quivering under your touch, then it’s lower pushing her legs open wider so you can press closer and repeat how it roams.

It’s not just you that’s handsy now either, Abby lets you keep your faces pressed firmly together greedily and takes full advantage of having both hands to explore your body. God, your perfect body. Her imagination did not compare to actually feeling your skin beneath her fingers, feeling each reaction to her touch. How her large hands could hold your tits and grope them easily while you mewled into her mouth, a needy mess (not that she was much better)

“Thought about this f’months,” Abby murmurs, voice low and fucked out, as she breaks the kiss to drag a trail of open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. Her hand moves to the back of your neck to manoeuvre you enough so she’s got the perfect angle, perfect access to as much skin as she can reach as she leans down. “You’re so fucking perfect”

All you can do is whine, rocking your hips forward so your clothed cunt can drag against Abby’s jean-clad thigh and press your own thigh against her too. “Shut the fuck up, am not. You’re the one… Fucking look at you” The words are said so breathlessly and yet with such adoration, such belief that Abby can’t help but pull her lips away from your neck just long enough to gaze at your face adoringly. The both of you are biting back small noises and clinging onto each other as you both rock slowly against each other.

Abby’s almost shaking with need as your hands slide down to her hips, holding them firmly and forcing her to grind against your thigh. “I-I need you… I need you so bad” Her husky voice whimpers, forehead falling against yours as she feels herself grower wetter in her boxers. It takes everything in you not to moan at how easily Abby has become submissive under your touch, how quickly she’s started to become lost under the pleasure. 

Not that you’re doing much better, eyes rolling shut as you move against Abby’s thigh and feel the drag of fabric against your clit. You’re nodding softly, hand coming up to her jaw to capture her in another tender but hungry kiss, half-devouring her as she whines into your mouth. Your hand is sliding down to her jeans, fingers unbuttoning them when the bathroom door slams open. You both pull apart slightly, eyes wide in shock and embarrassment and skin flushed as you’re caught dry humping each other against the sinks by Cat.

Cat who doubles over with laughter when she sees the two of you, clutching onto the hand-dryer for support only to accidentally turn it on. “You said come and get you if you were long” she shouts over the dryer, shaking her head and smirking. “Congrats guys but maybe take this back home so Seth doesn’t go all… Seth on you guys”

She doesn’t even wait for a response, stumbling back out into the bar laughing leaving you and Abby half embraced and feeling like ice water has been thrown on you both. Slowly, nervously, you turn and look back up to Abby. You’re not sure why but now you’ve both been shaken out of the haze of lust and drunken courage you’re worried that maybe, just maybe Abby might be having second thoughts.

“Abby?” Your heart is racing again, lip drawn between your teeth as you worry it. God, what if clarity hit and she’s sobering up enough to realise she doesn’t want this. That you should have never crossed the line. Shit, her kids involved in this, she’s probably already regretting it. You’re visibly spiralling, eyes wide and worried.

Abby’s large hands come down to cup your cheeks, the pads of her thumbs softly brushing against your cheeks soothingly. “Hey, hey, calm down” The words are spoken so gently as she moves the two of you around so your back is to the sinks, and she gently lifts you up so you’re sitting on the counter top. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Fuck, she’s perfect and it only makes you more nervous. You let out a shaky sounding breath, a sad look on your face curtesy of your drunken emotions. “I… really like you, Abby. Like, really really like you a-and I don’t want this to be something you’re regretting, cause I know you’ve got your kids and I get that if you don’t wanna carry on ca—”

Abby cuts you off, shaking her head and looking at you with such a soft, sad look. “When did I say I’m regretting anything? Or that I don’t wanna keep seeing you? Shit, I’ve been thinking about you since I met you so I don’t think I could stop if I tried”

“But Lev and Yara, I don’t wanna make things complicated for you or for them”

“Leave my kids to me, okay? I know what I’m doing, I know what I want. I want you, I’ve been wanting you and I don’t just want you in bed.”

That gets your attention, looking up at her with a hopeful glint in your eye and an excited smile threatening to curl at your lips. “Yeah, really?”

“Yeah, silly. I want you at the dinner table with us, ‘wanna see you on Saturday mornin’s in your pajamas cooking eggs and waiting for the coffee with me before the kids wake up.” Her stupid, beautiful face is lit up with a fond smile. You lean into her touch, her hands still cradling your face as she speaks. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been thinking about you in other ways too but… I’m not regretting this, but if you don’t think you’re—”

“I’m not, I-I mean I’m not regretting this, not that I’m not ready. I want.. I want that too. I want all of it” Laughter spills from both of you at your panicked and nervous babbling, leading into a comfortable silence. It feels like the outside world slowly starts seeping in, the muffled sound of the bar’s music and peoples talking becoming more audible — like the bubble the two of you were in finally popped.

Slowly, Abby moves her hand to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear and press a soft kiss to your forehead. “What do you say, wanna listen to Cat and get out of here?”

A wide, unapologetic grin is stretched wide across your lips at the thought of leaving with her, of this being real and not just a figment of her imagination anymore. “What, not into people walking in on us kissing, Abs?”

“Not if I can help it.” Easily she kisses you one last time, short but thorough before she’s helping you jump down from the counter top and throwing an arm around your shoulders.  You can still taste her on your tongue as you both pull the bathroom door open and walk back out into the bar, intent on leaving and going home, whoever's home that may be. And if, over the loud music and crowd, the two of you can hear cheering and shouts from both groups of friends, you both choose to ignore it.

[tallykale]

episode 19

as you can probably tell, i've thought a lot about what post-canon one would look like in my vision... i've said before that i have issues with straightforward fix-its, and i do genuinely love the tragic open-ended conclusion that the series has, but i... am not immune to playing with characters like dolls LOL

here's some writeups about where everyone is at mentally in these pictures. please please please PLEEEASE feel free to ask me more about this cuz i love talking about my beautiful mind palace

charlotte: somehow the most optimistic person in here, mostly out of necessity. when she died, she saw parker leading her out of a cave as her waiting room and was about to take his hand when airy respawned her, so she has a brief moment of bonding with bryce when he talks about the waiting room and seeing stella. with the knowledge that there is potentially a way to get out (bryce and liam being the proof) and the fear of rotting away again she is by far the most actively motivated to help liam figure out the computer. a lot of her days are spent talking to liam over the mic and writing out the code in the dirt so she can try to understand it. she still has to push against her natural misanthropy (and often shouts at liam or bryce for being fucking stupid and useless) but both working on the code and helping amelia give her something concrete to focus on outside herself. she wants to get home so she can make amends with her friends. charlotte is scared of dying! she's really genuinely horribly scared of dying and has awful vivid nightmares about rotting away. she often pushes amelia into talking about her life which causes some tension, but it's because she really hates seeing amelia lose herself like that - a metaphorical rotting away of the self.

subway seat & atom: not on the same level of pure existential depression as the batch 1 contestants, but they both feel the hopeless mood pretty harshly regardless. subway feels very lonely as the only hidden object still 'awake', and likes to carry whippy creamy around rather than just leave him sitting on the ground constantly. tray is too big and unwieldy for him to do that with, but he 'hangs out' with her anyway, talking to her and whippy creamy in the hopes that it'll get them to want to wake up again. atom doesn't talk much, but he still carries his piece of grass. he's definitely the person who's the least affected by the prospect of being stuck on the plane forever, since he… doesn't really perceive existence in the same way as everyone else? he's an atom. but his time in the competition definitely made him view everyone else as friends, and he feels even more powerless than usual in the face of this incomprehensibly difficult problem.

amelia: falls into total hopelessness when bryce rejoins, basically seeing it as the final sign that they're never going home. still calls everyone their competition names (she actually gets into a big fight with bryce about it lol). she gets really clingy and dependent on bryce when he first comes back but it crashes and burns pretty quickly when, during an argument, bryce tells her how much he wishes he could just go back and never have let liam in and forgot about everything… which really sucks for amelia to hear, given that she's part of that everything. after that, with bryce isolating himself, she's kind of reliant on charlotte to keep her going. she blames liam for airy dying and secretly kind of thinks he killed him but just isn't telling them… she also doesn't really believe there's any way of getting out and is just kind of waiting around to die of, like, old age i guess. after how long she's been here, amelia is convinced that she has nothing to even go back to and frequently forgets details about her life. regularly cries and hates being alone. the shift markings on the side of the water tub have changed from being a way to keep track of time and stay sane to a horrible reminder of how long they've been here and how much longer of an eternity they have before them.

bryce: hates himself and liam and airy and the plane and his entire stupid fucking life. bryce is really, really fucking pissed off at liam for losing the notes and letting texty die and every other mistake he's made, and isn't shy about telling him that. as well as being angry, he's also incredibly miserable, because he was finally starting to turn his life around (he quit drinking after the plane) and now it's all for nothing - and even worse, those 7 months he spent getting better were 7 months he did nothing to help the rest of them, especially amelia. he's horribly guilty about that, and that he didn't tell amelia about the fake votes before he was eliminated… but finds it easier to just let liam take the heat for that one at first. after he fights with amelia about it he becomes a bit of a hermit, hanging out by himself next to the plug, and never responds when liam tries to talk. contemplates suicide regularly but pretty much the only option is drowning himself, and the idea of that still scares him more than staying like this forever. would kill for a beer.

liam: tortured by horrible guilt every day over a million different things. these include getting bryce pulled back into this (plus delayed guilt over getting him for real killed), letting texty die and not saying anything about the charger, not telling amelia that everything was fake, knowing that charlotte is going to die if he doesn't get really smart really fast… he's frequently gripped by fits of rage where he almost smashes the computer and has to hobble around outside with the axe for a while to blow off steam. he has really bad nightmares and dissociative episodes, made worse by the isolation and spending hours in a dark cave. liam really wants to fix things with everyone but genuinely has no idea how to start that conversation. he assumes airy killed himself (and views it as an unforgiveably cowardly move) and directs a lot of resentment towards him. he has a lot of things he wants to say, especially to bryce, but the fact that he cant talk to anybody one on one makes things difficult. spends a lot of time just reading through the code, too afraid to actually make any changes in case everyone explodes, but talking it through with charlotte at least makes him feel like he's doing something. more than he would like to admit, liam catches himself staring at the plane as if it's a simulation or a livestream.

[love-byers]

i've seen a few anti-byler people say they view byler the same as percy and nico from percy jackson, meaning that both dynamics are just a tool to reveal one character's sexuality. and i think that's interesting because i've always thought the opposite

if you're not familiar with percy jackson, percy is of course the main character, and nico is a recurring side character introduced in the third book (there are 5 books total). in the sequel series, heroes of olympus, it is revealed in the fourth book (of five total) that nico once had a crush on percy.

nico's crush on percy was undoubtedly just a tool to reveal the fact that nico was gay. so let's go through the several differences between these two dynamics, because it's actually in byler's favor

first of all, percy and nico have a four year age gap. when they meet in book 3 nico is 10 and percy is 14, so this comparison is automatically garbage. will is literally 2 weeks older than mike. needed to get that out of the way at the beginning lol

aside from that, mike and will are best friends of 7 years when s1 begins. they became best friends on the first day of kindergarten, they are extremely close, they hang out every day. mike's entire arc in s1 is about finding will. we see how he defends will behind his back, how devastated he is when he thinks will is dead, how he clings to the first bit of proof that he may be alive even though no one believes him, how happy he is when will is found. he runs into will's hospital room and lays his head on will's chest. and we all know about s2 byler...

in the first pjo book, we have no idea nico exists, and neither does percy. percy bonds with annabeth (his love interest) for the entire story (as well as every book besides the third because she was kidnapped at the beginning, and percy's sole motivation was to save her. sounds familiar...).

pjo spoilers ahead (its been out for 20 years come on...)

in the third book, nico is absent for the majority of it because percy leaves camp on a quest with bianca, nico's older sister. bianca dies on the quest, and at the very end of the book percy tells him what happened. nico is devastated and blames percy for her death. the few times percy and nico interact in the 4th book, their arc is entirely centered around nico accepting bianca's death and the fact that it wasn't percy's fault. in the final book they briefly team up at the beginning and make peace, and nico fights on the good side in the final battle. percy and annabeth have their first kiss in the 4th book and start dating at the end of the 5th (looooong situationship)

nico doesn't appear in the first book of the sequel series. he does briefly appear at the beginning of the second, and then leaves to go off on his own business. he is absent for basically all of the third book because he was trapped in a jar by a titan (long story). but percy and the others save him at the end. in the fourth nico is a main character for the first time. he's present for the whole story (while percy and annabeth are stuck in tartarus) and heavily involved. this is the book where we find out nico had feelings for percy. nico and another charcter, jason, are attacked by cupid and cupid forces nico to admit that he had a crush on percy, therefore admitting that he is gay, outing himself to jason. then in the fifth and final book, nico narrates about a quarter of the chapters so we get his more insight on his thoughts and feelings. he feels like a mistake for being gay and feels like he'll be alone forever. when he had a crush on percy he viewed him basically as a superhero. percy was an older, stronger, powerful demigod that protected him, and nico idolized him. but at this point in the story nico is essentially over it. near the end of the book, nico teams up with a guy his age named will solace. and there's a scene in nico's last pov chapter after the final battle is over where nico tells percy that he used to have a crush on him, but that he's over it and percy isn't really his type anyway (lmfao). and then nico walks over to will who had been waiting for him, obviously symbolizing him moving on from percy and choosing will. and in the trials of apollo series we find out that nico and will are dating. (solangelo my bookies<333)

how is this in ANY way shape or form similar to byler??

percy and nico do not have the depth and backstory that mike and will do. percy does not give nico a tearful monologue about how asking nico to be his friend when they were children is the best decision he's ever made. percy and nico do not agree to go crazy together. percy does not tell nico that home isn't the same without him. percy doesn't emphasize that they are just friends. nico isn't the one to push percy into confessing his love to annabeth. nico and percy don't spend every single book attached at the hip. percy doesn't choose to stand with nico instead of following annabeth when the world is ending. percy and nico barely bond at all. their relationship is complicated. they are borderline enemies in the 4th and 5th books (the hate is one sided, but nico has also yet to earn percy's trust), but they become allies and friends in the end.

percy and nico are a good example of a character's feelings for another solely being a tool to reveal their sexuality. byler would be an awful attempt at that. there is unnecessary depth and development. mike and will's bond is a plot point every single season, which would be pointless if they don't end up together. nico had a crush on percy. a crush. it is only every referred to as a crush. will is in love with mike. deeply, devastatingly in love, and always will be. percy was not the only person capable of making nico not feel like a mistake. nico never said he needs percy. nico never says that he's lost without percy.

IF I EVER HEAR P*RNICO EQUATED TO BYLER AGAIN I WILL DRINK BLEACH ON INSTAGRAM LIVE FOR EVERYONE TO SEE AND I MEAN IT. miss me with that bullshit

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Heesu in Class 2: A personal reminder why I watch queer media

As always I am super late to the party

I recently binged Heesu in Class 2, and I've read a lot of posts about it on here, both positive and negative.

All I need to say or will say has probably already been said in the posts I'm going to reference (notes at the end), but I still wanted to make this post because I watched the series on a whim, but it hit really close to home.

Before we go any further, some things that I need to point out: I have not read the webtoon (I started it after watching the show) and this post is going to have personal takes that might not resonate with everyone. Also, this is only my second meta analysis post, and I haven't watched very many BLs to truly comment on the nature of BL or queer media of a particular kind (though I try to maintain diversity in what I watch), so if I say something incorrect, I'm always open to constructive criticism.

Firstly, as a queer person who'd been in high school not so long ago, I could really relate to the characters and the narrative.

I had an unrequited crush on a really close friend. I never confessed. To this day, I think about the what ifs. Using Heesu's words, I had used up all my feelings for her so I got over her, but maybe confessing when I had the chance would have given me the closure too.

So when I saw that the story started with Heesu having feelings for his best friend that might or might not be returned, I was instantly hooked.

Secondly, the narrative is much more than it seems, and every single scene has a purpose, a meaning, a layer that might just go unseen if you don't know to look for it.

The het narratives are important. Did it frustrate me? To no end. Did I actually consider for a short period to put this show on hold? Heck yeah. Did I finally understand why the het narrative was important to highlight the queer one? Yes.

Let us take the het plot lines one by one.

Chan Yeong and Ji Yu. The most important, the most highlighted. This is a very common story in high school. Girl likes boy, boy likes her back, and they date. I had a lot of friends with boyfriends in school (I attended an all girls school) and I see even more het couples in college. Every single time, it reminds me of what I cannot have. I can't be too close with my partner (if I were to have one), I cannot publicly show affection that goes beyond friendship, I cannot sleep on their shoulders, I cannot laugh over lunch together, I cannot go on dates. That was the same for this show. In Class 2 bolds and underlines het privilege, putting it side by side with the internal struggles Heesu has to go through.

Ho Sik. How het people can be open with their affections, but also how beauty standards play out. One girl thought he was ugly even though he worked really hard to make her a whole ass scarf, while another girl found him cute enough to pursue him even from afar.

Hee Sin. Her repeated confessions. I relate from experience when she says that when she has feelings for someone she can't help but confess, and even if she faces rejection, and dramatically mopes around till her next crush, it helps her move forward. Quite a while after I had feelings for them and even gotten over them, I confessed to a few people. Fortunately, all of them took it in stride, one of them told me she used to have a crush on me too, one was really happy and wanted to know more even though I told her my feelings for her were very short-lived, and the third person is still my friend. And confessing to people does make them happy. Unfortunately, not a lot of queer people have the freedom or confidence to do it. There are just so many things that could go wrong. Especially when the person you like is a close friend, it's incredibly hard. But in the end, her confession gets her a boyfriend, one who was in a relationship at that too. Miracles do happen.

Hee Jae. Her arc shows how easily a comfortable relationship can shift into a toxic one. I don't know how to put what I think about this relationship into words, but it's explained really well in @soypim's post (notes, reference #8).

Hee Jeong. Her story tells us to jump, to take the leap, to prioritize one's own self and dreams. Initially she was afraid to go abroad and study even when she wanted to; this fear may have stemmed from worry about her siblings (also an arc about eldest daughters), or fear from going to live in a completely unknown milieu. But Heesu's words act as a catalyst, and she is ready to take this step. Through her relationship, Heesu is also shown how a friendship doesn't have to end when one person confesses, that despite being in a relationship and breaking up and not seeing each other in a long time, Hee Jeong was still friends with her partner/best friend.

And finally, let's talk about the queer narrative.

I loved the conflict resolution. I loved how Heesu got to be angry at Seung Won. I've seen a lot of BLs, especially Thai BLs, where the lead just sort of forgives the romantic lead for playing with their feelings, and I really do not like that. I love that they cleared that, that Seung Won actually confessed, loud and clear.

They might not have kissed, but boy do I love them.

Personally, I think the scene where Heesu confesses to Chan Yeong is very realistic. I have been lucky to have queer or ally classmates, but I have seen when an indirect reference to a person not being heterosexual confused someone, and they didn't really even understand how it could be. Chan Yeong's parental pressures and expectations were also very relatable, as an Asian only child.

When Chan Yeong called Heesu to the tennis court and hit him with balls, I understood where he was coming from. I'm glad he took the time to process what he'd been told and very clearly told his friend his actual thoughts on the matter. I was glad to realize he values their friendship more than Heesu had given him credit for.

How Heesu in Class 2 was a personal reminder why I watch queer media. I feel like after watching all the BLs I have, I developed certain expectations from what I want from a 'BL'. This show reminded me that at the end of the day, I'm just another queer person searching for queer narratives not only for catharsis through fictional characters, but also to hold on to hope about queer stories. This show reminded me of my high school days and every moment was so real. I lived this show, I could see it unfolding in real time, and that made me really giddy. I want to watch more shows like these.

Finally, some moments that stuck with me in no particular order:

When Heesu saw Hee Jeong coming in late and told her to do what she wanted to, that he'd always support her.

When Heesu came out to Hee Sin. Hee Sin was visibly trying to come up with the best reply, but she handled it well.

When Heesu learns Sweong Won has two moms and he thinks "at least he won't hate me for who I am" I almost cried.

The tennis court scene.

The hand holding scene. I absolutely adored it. I want more scenes of boys giggling over holding hands.

Notes and references Posts that inspired this one (so sorry for the long list of tags 😭):

@alien-ally (post)

@bengiyo (post)

@dramalove247 (post 1 & post 2)

@jackandjoker (post)

@lurkingshan (post)

@nabi-unveiled (post)

@neuroticbookworm (post)

@soypim (post)

@wanderlust-in-my-soul (post)

and this critique by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

MY GOD this took me so long (I've been here for almost 3 hours) my eyes are dead my laptop is cursing me out.

Anygays, I really hoped y'all liked and enjoyed this!

If you read all the way till here thank you so much I love you <3

Remember to hydrate and eat properly, and here's a cupcake for you 🧁

[pampushky]

i hate the air he breathes his foolish decrees

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 2 - 5k

woooo welcome to part 2 my loves! sorry for the slight wait. I've been doing hot bitch shit (my actual job). but now we're back. enjoy the fuck out of it. TW: no mention of abuser other than as him. mentions of abandonment and severe physical trauma in the form of a house fire. lore drop on the main character too!!

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Mid-March 2005. Los Angeles.

Niki gets a call from an unknown number that wakes him up from a deep slumber, and he hardly has any time to think as he’s pulling a sweater over his head and forgoing a hat entirely. It’s his third day in as your legal guardian, and you’re already transferred to a state-of-the-art hospital in Los Angeles, across the country from where you’d lived previously. A newer set of mountains. A city to the hamlet you’d once known, hidden away in the foggy mountains of North Carolina.  

As he blearily walks into the hospital lobby, there’s already a small team of doctors waiting for him, explaining rapidly what's happening to you as they walk him up to your room in the burn ward. You’re in the best hospital for burns on the continent— Niki had made sure of it. Had paid for the flight over here two days ago, with a medical staff on board to keep you stable during the five-hour flight. 

The doctors swarming around your unconscious form resemble vultures. The burn center director explains everything to him when they finally get to your room. The rapid medical treatment nearly made you present early. Freakishly early, by all standards. It’s understood to have been a panic response by your body— because you're on the brink of death in the burn ward, your hormones so out of whack that for whatever reason, your brain had gone, ‘Oh, yes, it’s time to do that now.’

Studies had shown that those in areas where the risk of death was high often presented much earlier, with other cases that also supported something known as “panic presentation”. You’re an extreme example of the latter. But it had never been seen to this degree. You need to be knocked out for several days, going comatose while a team of doctors works around the clock to save your life while it seems likely you will melt away like the first snowfall on a sun-warmed road as it seems new complications get piled onto your case file every day. The way the doctor talks about you makes Niki feel like you’re more of a specimen meant for study, and not a pup who’d just lost her Dam. 

Marlene has already decorated the sterile room to reflect more on a child’s room. And wherever there’s an empty space on a table, she’s placed down vases full of fresh flowers. Flowering dogwood. That’s what the state flower was of North Carolina, and however early in the season for blooming it was, she managed to find fresh ones every day. Now, Marlene was back at the hotel, settling a new wave of interest about your identity while Niki tried to figure out what he was going to do with you when he's lead into the room.

You’re already on several new medications to prevent you from presenting early, having them inserted in through an IV and eventually, to be taken as a pill when you could swallow. You'll be on these same medications until you’re seven or eight, when they can start to consider weaning you off of them to let you present then because it’ll be safer. Niki hates the idea of you presenting even then. You should be almost fully grown when you present. Not— not still a pup. With baby teeth still in your mouth. You should be wrestling. Learning to access your canine form, and causing mayhem like his sons had. 

So he does what he’s been doing for the past five days. Niki sits quietly by your side in your private room. Holding your tiny hand while a machine breathes for you, not even five years old, and fighting for your life. Completely unaware of the complications your existence has thrown straight into Niki’s lap, dredging up old, old wounds that his sons have yet to recover from.

Because the great complication is that you’re his biological grandchild. 

Through a son, a beta, that neither Lukas nor Mathias had gotten to know. Or Niki, for that matter. But here you are. The only link to that son. To the ultimate undoing of his marriage and mating, his infidelity thrown back in his face in the form of a sedated, traumatized pup that can’t understand him through his accent.

Left without a dam, your mother. Lost to the roaring flames of a housefire that you’d somehow survived. Part of Niki wants to know how his son had ended up in the area, and if there are any other new descendants he should know about. So he petitions the court to gain access to your files before he legally adopts you, and he stares down at them before finally lifting the cover of the manila folder and starts to read.

All the files seem to stare right on back at Niki as he continues to pour through them, officially five minutes and nine seconds into being your legal guardian. They’re meticulous, just as expected— it had become standard for anyone who’d had so much as a visit to a hospital to create a DNA profile, especially after they presented. His affair child’s profile stares back at him, with what he can only assume is an up-to-date photo. Male. Beta. Signed away parental rights before birth. Austrian nationality. That’s all you have to go on for your biological father’s identity. 

That’s all that linked Niki to you, and how the social worker had managed to contact him. All other positive matches from your father’s side are his former mistress as your biological grandmother and his two sons with Marlene as your uncles. There are no other pups listed for his affair child. No other grandchildren that he has to worry about. Your dam’s profile is more complete. A smiling picture of her holding you as an infant, left by her family.

Female. Omega. Deceased. American nationality, born in Banner Elk, North Carolina. 

And under that:

Dam’s pack signed away pack and next of kin rights to the pup. Relevant health history is accessible through the International UN DNA database. Pack requested no contact order until the pup has reached legal age, or unless the pup does not survive her time in hospital, so they may bury her in the family plot with her Dam.

This makes a chill run down Niki’s spine. Your pack had… signed you away? The only people who had been familiar to you— and they had signed away their rights as though you were more of a burden than anything, only asking for you back if you were dead. It makes him shudder, as he looks down at your tiny body again, for what must have been the thousandth time since he’s been introduced to you. Since he’d so quickly agreed to become your legal guardian, your legal sire. Covered in bandages and hooked up to dozens of wires. 

The social worker explained that signing you away was them not wanting to pay for the massive medical bill, along with the scandal your birth had caused in the small community. Your Dam was unmated, and even worse, unmarried, raising you on her own in a less-than-up-to-code cabin her late father had left her, further out in the mountains, a thirty-minute drive into town. 

The matriarch of her pack had been well-regarded in the area— it was an open secret that she was looking for any excuse to remove you from the picture. This just happened to be the perfect excuse. How was she going to be able to pay for your medical costs on her own when it was just her? All the advanced treatments you’d need— it would be too much in her old age.

When told about the Children’s Health Insurance Programs that could easily provide care for you, your grand-dam had just made a sour face and told the Social Worker she was still signing away her rights. Her surviving children were quick to follow her lead.

What a backward system. Niki had growled to himself, pacing in the room. Reading the reports from the insurance company he’d managed to legally bully his way into receiving from your biological family. 

The cabin had burnt down in nearly an hour. You’d been trapped under a metal bed frame when the roof collapsed in on itself. When they’d found you, it had been a recovery effort for bodies. And despite it all, you’d survived, your whimpering and crying alerting the firefighters that you were alive. Severely burnt, with the old mattress and polyester blankets having melted and dripped across your little body as the embers settled. Half of your body severely burnt from where the flames could still reach you. Crying out for your Dam even as you were airlifted to the nearest hospital with a functioning burn ward.

Going over your files has become a habit for first past three days. Ever since Marlene had gone silent when Niki told her that he was going to adopt you, before brusquely starting to order furniture and calling countless contractors that a new pup-friendly room be added to his house in Hof. He’s lucky to at least be considered a friend of his former mate, otherwise, he would be stumbling through his second round of parenting. He looks down at the newest addition to his pack. You. Four and a half. With burns covering an incredible amount of your body. Nearly 45% percent of your torso, completely mangling one of your legs, crawling up your neck and dancing across your jaw. Now lying in a medically-induced coma to conserve your energy. 

You wake up nearly two days later. Five days into Niki’s tenure as your legal sire. Unable to scream. Eyes fixed on Niki as your little chest heaves with the effort it takes to breathe. You pull at your IV and try to snap at a nurse who tries to stop you. But your eyes are still fixed on Niki, likely horrified by his burns. You were glancing at your own bandaged arms and body as if to gauge how you would one day look. 

There is a wild look in your eyes as you look at him. The way you tremble as the doctors try to explain everything. It hurts Niki’s heart, especially with the gasping noise you let out before they sedate you again when you’re still not responding well to anything. Niki wants to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go. You mumble something out as you drift away again, tears in the corners of your eyes. Foggy eyes on the extravagant bouquets of flowers on the tables beside your bed and across the room.

Where is my Dam? 

Early February 2024. Woking.

Your right leg was acting up again. It always did when you were stressed. The fire had mangled it— and that was putting it lightly. Not bad enough to amputate, because that would be too easy, and they didn’t want to send your body into even more shock. So you had your crispy, chicken-fried, useless leg. You could put some weight on it now, after nearly twenty years of intense therapy and correcting surgeries. But it was still incredibly weak. All twisted, mottled skin and a full knee replacement.

That’s what had made it so easy for him. That’s what had made it easy for him to chase you down as you tried to leave every situation that saw him near you. Easily able to keep pace with your shambling, stress-induced walk as you choked on his scent. 

Your upper thigh twinges. The needle pierces your skin all over again. That was the only reason you’d been able to walk away without experiencing a true heat from whatever drug he’d hit you with. The bad, mangled leg of yours. Your downfall and savior. 

The halls are winding, but you can vaguely follow the way to your office from previous talks. You call Lewis the moment you get to the room. There’s already a brand-new mini fridge sitting on your desk, likely from the accommodations you’d listed in the countless documents you’d had to sign when you got hired. 

There’s a few people unboxing your items and they look a bit shocked to see you back from what was supposed to be a much longer meeting.

“Ms Lauda—”

“Leave, please,” you whisper while pacing across the room, trying to calm yourself down. You can feel your scent-blocking, adhesive strips tingling. Your scent glands, especially the damaged ones, threatening to blister from the stress of what just happened. You were going to be sacked for certain. Not only had you yelled at the driver you were meant to work with, you’d also thrown an empty can at him. “I’d like some space.”

The workers, your new assistants, you realize, hurry out, not even catching your mumbled thanks as you tuck yourself into a corner where you can’t be seen from the door. So much different than Williams. So much more support. Lewis doesn’t pick up immediately, but just as you’re about to call again, his contact photo appears on your screen. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay—” Is the first thing you hear, like the protective older brother he’s always situated himself as in your life. “What room are you in? I still haves ways to get into the classified parts of the MTC—” 

“I’m going to fucking kill Lando Norris,” You growl into the phone, and Lewis lets out a relieved noise, before breaking off into a fit of laughter, his voice more distant as if he’s trying to muffle himself. “Don’t laugh! That fucking brat, I should box his goddamn ears, showing up nearly an hour late to what was supposed to be our initial meeting—” 

“Ah, yeah, sounds like Lando!” 

“Fuck off, Lewis,” You whine, and he has the audacity to laugh even harder, because your accent slips, as it always seems to do when you’re with your immediate pack. You can hear him shuffle a bit. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” You concede to him with a soft sigh. You hear the chortling barks of Roscoe in the background of Lewis’s call. “I’m gonna do my job. But I’m gonna hate it. Unless I get switched to Oscar.”

“Don’t sound too hopeful.” Lewis chides on the other side of the phone, and you hear the doorknob jiggle, followed by a soft knock. “Sounds like you have some work to do.” 

He hangs up before you can say something in response to him, leaving the gentle knocking on the door to slowly drive you insane. Likely Andrea or Zak, telling you that you were going to be let go for committing a minor assault against their star driver. 

And you're right, it is Zak. But he looks more concerned than angry with you, immediately putting his hands up in a placating manner when you open the door as if you’re the one with all the power and he’s not the CEO of McLaren Racing, your ultimate boss. Your boss’s boss. The one who bulldozed his way into getting you on the team because he’d seen your work to get at least a modicum of respect back to Williams, and, in his own words, got a good vibe from you.

(And maybe Niki had been in his ear a little bit about it, but when Niki Lauda spoke, people had a habit of listening rather closely to whatever he said.)

“Mr. Brown,” You start formally, leaning down in a way that is traditionally seen as submitting and a very, very formal way to apologize before he starts to squawk in surprise at it all. 

“Don’t– What are you submitting for— are you alright?!”

The last thing you expect is Zak fretting over you like you’re a pup. He’s gently squishing your cheeks with his hands, checking you over, and you can see his nose twitching, as if he’s checking your scent for any signs of distress. Only to look confused by how… clean, you smell.

“Are you— are you still hurt from everything?”

“No, I just,” You take a step backward, and hold up your hands just like he had just been doing for you a few seconds ago. “It’s easier to hide my designation when I smell like this.”

He just looks confused at your explanation but doesn’t seem to question it.

“And you… want to continue hiding it?”

“Preferably.”

Even as you say it, you can see a bit of pity in his eyes. You know his mate is an omega. He has a pup who’s an omega. Both of which he supports wholeheartedly. You’d seen all the articles. Part of you is jealous. Another part just wants everyone to stop caring about what your designation may be. Why should anyone care what you are? 

You’re proud of yourself, regardless of your designation. You’re not some prize to be won! You can stand on your own two feet, you can take care of yourself. You had more than shown that—

Zak is hugging you. Rumbling softly like any parent would do for a distressed pup.

“You don’t have to justify it. I just need to know so I can make sure that no one else is told, aside from our medical people.” He whispers, and you sag against him. Relief fills your mind. “What— what do people think you’ve presented as?”

“Alpha. Like Vati. They think I’m an Alpha.” 

“We can work with that,” Zak pulls away, looking at you. There’s only worry in his eyes. “Can I ask one more thing?”

“Yeah,” You sniffle, not realizing you’d starting to tear up as you look at him. “What is it?”

“Why…. did you throw an empty can of Red Bull at Lando? You’re not in trouble, I just want to know why.”

You flush, and Zak just starts to laugh. 

McLaren is much, much different than Williams.

Lando has been sitting in a chair while Oscar screams at him. Andrea has disappeared. It’s been ten minutes and all he wants to do is curl up and die and apologize for commenting on your voice and being late and not charging his phone and really, every other thing that he’d done wrong, ever.

Yes. He is technically the older one. No, he shouldn’t be acting like such a pup over this.  

Yes. He should know better than to comment on things that people can’t change or help about themselves.

Yes, Oscar, Lando was aware that you had survived a very traumatic house fire that nearly killed you. No, it’s not okay that he called you a robotic bitch. No, he didn’t read the email about the apparent triggers that you had from this event. Frankly, he wasn’t even aware that they had emailed those to him. That seemed like a bit much.

“I mean seriously, Lando! This is ridiculous! Fucking calling her that!” 

It feels like he’s being lectured by his Dam again, her words blending English into Flemish until he can’t tell what she’s saying, just that she’s pissed at him. Instead, it’s just Oscar’s accent getting thicker and thicker until Lando’s certain he’s never heard anyone sound so furious with him, and that’s really saying something. 

“I get it,” Lando whines, letting his head slip so that he can press his forehead against the table. And he does feel bad! Really! “I didn’t know she’d respond like that!”

“Wonderful excuse to be a fuckhead, champ,” Oscar drawls, eyes narrowed. His arms are folded. He looks unimpressed. He smells more, now than ever, of rotting oranges. Lando can imagine the maggots. “I’m shocked you didn’t comment on her designation as well.”

“She’s an alpha! And she smells so medicine-y,” Lando wrinkles his nose, lifting up his head enough to glare at the omega in front of him. Oscar’s face is a blank mask of annoyance, with a flicker of some other mystery emotion. But he can at least tell what he’s thinking because he can smell his displeasure from across the room. It’s all rotten oranges, burning rubber, and singed hair. “C’mon! I didn’t know it’d set her off that much, man!”

“Commenting on traumatic events tends to do that to people.”

“How was I supposed to know it was traumatic?!”

“Wow, you really didn’t read any of the emails,” Oscar lets out a low huff, sitting across from Lando in one of the plush office chairs. “We’ve been in talks with her for weeks!”

“You were in talks with her, maybe,” Lando says snidely, narrowing his gaze at the omega across from him, “I didn’t think I needed a new race engineer, yet here we are. But you seemed awfully interested when you heard she was looking for a new team.”

Oscar scoffs. His cheeks turn slightly pink. “No, I wasn’t. She’s a good friend. I thought she’d be a good fit for the team.”

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the fact that you have such an obvious crush on her? I bet Logan even helped set you up,” Lando knows he’s been a dick again. But he’s frustrated. He’ll get lectured by his therapist for this later, and he’s okay with that. He just needs to make Oscar squirm a little for his high-and-mighty attitude. “You want her pups, I bet. Already have the first three named.”

“Fuck off,” Oscar snarls, and Lando decides to keep digging a bit more. “It’s not like that! Besides— I’m courting someone!”

An awkward silence settles between the two. Oscar’s flushed pink. And Lando starts to grin. All evil like, in Oscar’s opinion. Gleefully, in his own. 

"Oh, but it is!” Lando chimes, his voice all sing-songy. He’s in full older brother mode. He knows exactly what to do to push Oscar’s buttons now that his teammate has shown his weakness. He’s done this with his sisters. And Oscar’s probably used to being the one doing the tormenting, as his family’s oldest pup. “You like her!” And then, with a very dramatic gasp, “Oh, you’re probably courting her! No wonder you wanted her here!”

Without so much as a warning, the Australian driver leaps at him with a snarl the moment the words are out of his mouth. They’re both tussling on the ground, before it turns into the two of them in their canine forms, snapping and snarling at each other. This is when Andrea decides to make a reappearance, looking a bit startled to see a mousy-brown wolf and a dark-brown wolf rolling around on the floor of the conference room. Oscar is large for an omega in his canine form, but still smaller than Lando. Lando is wirey, not as bulky as many would expect an Alpha to be. It’s rather evenly matched, considering how often the two of them are training. 

One moment, Lando has Oscar pinned. Another, Oscar has him pinned. Snarling and biting and kicking until the door opens again, and now it’s Andrea, Zak, and yourself watching the two of them wrestle until you fearlessly walk into the fray and grab Oscar by one of his hind legs.

Oscar turns human again immediately, hitting the ground with a loud ‘oof’ while Lando scurries away, watching as you start to lecture the other driver as he stands up. Your tone is hushed, but it’s clear that this seems to be a common occurrence between the two of you. You’re leaning over him, and the rumblings of annoyance and displeasure are clear as day.

Lando can’t help but smirk as the other man makes fleeting eye contact with him as you sit on his side of the table, taking your place as his engineer, despite your obvious contempt for him. 

“Now, let's get to business…” Andrea sighs. You keep your eyes ahead. Hands folded neatly in front of you. Letting his words blur until you feel Oscar gently tugging on your arm. He looks concerned, and you smile tiredly at him. Only just remembering the promise of cuddling in his nest with him when this was all done. 

You don’t even care if you look or act nothing like the Alpha that Lando thinks you are. You just slump against Oscar with a grumpy half-whine as he hoists you over his shoulder. The other driver lets out a loud snort at that, and your friend only glares at him, about to say something else before you bring one of your hands to tap his cheek lightly.

“Just get to th’nest,” You mumble, leaning against him. Your leg aches. You don’t want to walk. “Wanna get th’blockers off.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Oscar sighs, glaring at Lando over his shoulder before walking past with you in his arms. You don’t care about how it looks. You’ll deal with it later. And before you know it, you’re curled in the world’s comfiest nest, all in shades of orange and black. With the comforting scent of sweet tangerines and charcoal. Oscar hands you a nice little bottle of micellar water to help get the sticky adhesive of the blockers off, much more gentle with your skin than you ever are with yourself. He’s even soaked cotton rounds to make it a bit easier to apply, gently rubbing them across your scarred glands to clear any remnants of the adhesive off of your skin.

The smells of mountain rain and fresh baked peach cobbler mix with Oscar’s scent as you stretch, rubbing your cheeks tiredly.

You let yourself relax then. Sinking deep into the soft pillows as Oscar comes to spoon you from behind. A commonplace action, and had been since he started to get more and more bold with you in his attempts to court you. 

You can hear Oscar start to Facetime someone, probably Logan. But you honestly don’t care all that much— he’s there, and you’ll give your friend a full debrief, of course, after you’ve fully rested. 

“Your leg acting up?”

Oscar nudges you, and you grumble, trying to press your face further into the plushness of the nest, voice muffled by pillows. “Who cares if it is?”

“I do.”

“So do I!” Logan chimes in from the phone, and you roll over enough to glare at him. “Did you take all your meds, mouse?”

“Unfortunately, yes. So I’m afraid you’ll just have to put me down at this point—”

You don’t even have time to respond as Oscar cuffs your ear. You let out a dramatic whine, actually letting yourself act on your instinctual noises. Nothing hurts, of course. Oscar’s always been gentle, making sure nothing actually hurts when he wrestles with you or cuffs your ears. 

“Did you have to get my bad ear?” You whine, looking accusingly at the Aussie who just grins down at you, cuffing the same ear once again. “I’m gonna tell Lewis.”

“He doesn’t scare me, and besides, he’d probably agree with me! All, ‘C’mon, Mousey, that’s not how your therapist said to cope with your trauma—”

“That’s a bit scary, how accurate that was,” You prop yourself up to glare at your dear friend, only to smile broadly at him. You can’t help it, really. He manages to make you smile, even when you feel like shit. And even when he cuffs your right ear by mistake, after swearing he won’t do it again.

In truth, the ear looks almost melted. It’s usually carefully hidden by your personal stylist, with hair masterfully combed over it. The skin around it— luckily missing your scalp— was mottled and pink. What was left of your ear was little more than a small ridge of skin and cartilage at this point, and was much the same in your canine appearance, just more dramatic without all the fur. The upper half of your ear was utterly gone, along with most of the lobe. It was the ear you were deaf in. 

“Can it even hurt if you’re deaf?”

“Yeah! Doesn’t mean it’s gone numb to the feeling,” you pout, looking at him as he sets his chin on your shoulder. Logan giggles from FaceTime. He’s set up somewhere, Williams blue all around him that makes you avert your gaze but continue talking to him nonetheless. “Ugh. Logan, I almost killed Lando.”

“She threw a can of Red Bull at him,” Oscar clarifies, to his rather shocked-looking boyfriend and courting partner. To his credit, it takes a few seconds before Logan starts to cackle.  

“It was empty!” You protest back, but there’s a wide smile on your face as you hazard a glance at your former partner. “He was being a little bitch!”

“Should I be offended I didn’t get the same treatment my first day?” Logan’s voice crackles and his face is frozen on the screen with a mix of a confused look and smirk, before serenading both of you with a jumbled, robotic mess before the call abruptly ends. 

“Stupid wifi,” Oscar mumbles, pulling the phone away to text his boyfriend to see what happened. You just settle back into your side of the nest, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off while Oscar’s comforting scent wafts over in you waves. You could just about fall asleep when there’s a gentle knock at the door, followed by Andrea poking his head in. 

He blinks at the two of you. You blink back at him, already knowing you won't be able to take a much-needed like you had originally planned.

“Ah! Ms Lauda— can I speak with you for a second?”

“Can I do it from here?” you try to press yourself deeper into Oscar’s nest. You’d need to find a place to make one here— a nice, private room. Somewhere you can easily reapply your scent blockers and can fully surrender to your instincts until you were comfortable with more people knowing about your designation. “Took off my blockers.”

“Of course. I just wanted to check in, make sure everything was alright after… how the meeting went.”

There’s a hearty pause. As if he can tell you’re thinking over your words carefully.

“It certainly… went.”

“Ah. And… no other comments?”

“I meant what I said. You baby Lando.” You shift slightly. Tiredly. Giving the team principal the trademark Lauda stare from where you’re comfortably curled into the nest. So soft, yet so harsh at the same time.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here to fix that,” Andrea smiles politely at you, and ducks out of the room without another word. You just settle deeper into Oscar’s nest, wondering what in the hell you’d gotten yourself into. The only thing on your mind when you finally manage to fall asleep is how much you miss your mother's fresh peach cobbler.

tags: @the-holy-trinity-l @laura-naruto-fan1998 @amalialeclerc @st0rmzi3 @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @seonghwaexile @mrsmelinda

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Eight

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

*I say it's an OC, it's just a name and third person POV. I use minor character descriptions because I don’t get on with writing vague reader inserts/YN for long-form, story heavy fics, but I will generally try to avoid including race and body type or really any physical descriptors. I’m always open to feedback on my writing, or how to be more inclusive.

WC: 18k (I need help)

Chapter Warnings: jealous!nico makes a tiny cameo lmao, fluff!!! it's everywhere!! like those pranks you see on tv where they put like honey on someone then send them through a door with a bucket of feathers hung precariously over the top. so fluffy. and little sprinkles of fake dating!! the best writing trope there ever was. poppy's family are a living breathing nightmare, so angst there including comments about food/weight/eating and just a lot of ignorance and judgement, and nico is her saving grace. repeatedly. that's all I've got.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Seven)

A/N: you know that meme of sarah paulson laughing at her phone in ahs and she looks like a clown that's me rn after finally finishing this!!! not a single thought in my brain in the 14 days since I posted the last chapter. no gender reveal in here it will be in the next chapter tho!! I didn't really want to time jump too much in one go or include too many milestones because I feel like I'd just be skipping stuff for the sake of it, and I wanted to dedicate a chapter entirely to one aspect of the pregnancy. I literally had one conversation in this pre planned and the rest came to me after DAYS of staring at a blank page lmao but I hope you all enjoy as always would love to hear any thoughts any feelings anything at all 💖

Nico

Coming to the realisation that he is seriously no good at the concept of baby steps takes Nico a grand total of three days. 

To give himself credit, it has been three long days of battling every instinct in his body to hover protectively in Poppy’s peripheral. 

The first day had been the easiest - mainly due to the fact he and Poppy spent it together anyway, her having the day off of work and him only having that morning training session and an afternoon practice after he had dropped her home. 

He had been able to shamelessly dote on her in the safety of his own home - he had ordered her in a late lunch, a giant caesar salad she had no chance of getting the whole way through and some sweet potato fries, and she hadn’t been sick again the whole time they had been together. They had sat with each other on the couch, creating a joint calendar where they could figure out when to book her first scan, and he had sat and watched her as she made the appointment, biting nervously at the skin around her nails until he pulled her hands away from her mouth to break the habit. 

They had marked the date in their phones, Friday 23rd, where they would both be at work but Nico didn’t have a game, and had given it the cryptic title of Blueberry Day in case anyone accidentally came across it, because that is how big Google had told Poppy the baby would be by then.

And it had been then that it dawned on Nico that he was now responsible for a pretty big secret, which made the second day almost unbearable.

The Devils hosted the Avalanche at home, and where he spent his evening dealing with the mammoth task of playing some of the greatest players in the league, and the team that had taken home the cup only two seasons prior, he had spent his entire day with the even bigger workload of keeping his mouth shut around his parents.

His mother, specifically, who had mastered the art of knowing her son like the back of her hand.

Keeping secrets had never been Nico’s strong suit. It’s probably the youngest child in him, he thinks, his siblings having tried every single trick in the book on his parents before he ever had the chance, and he never managed to perfect his poker face - especially when it came to Katja.

His mom, who had once told him she had memorised the depth in which he breathed in his sleep, and so she could always tell he was pretending when he curled himself up in bed with his hand tucked under his pillow, holding his beat up brick of a phone under it while he waited for updates from his friends on the latest football score-lines from across the European leagues, and faking snores when she came to check up on him.

She would always huff out a resigned sigh, would reach under the pillow and take the device from a clutch too tight for him to have been asleep.

“You can text your friends in the morning, Neeky,” She would say as she tucked his phone into her back pocket, levelling him with a knowing look when he peeked an eye open only to roll it at her astute observation skills. “You have school tomorrow, you need to sleep.”

But during the second day, when he had managed to grab brunch with his parents before he was shut away in preparation for the game, as much as he still feared being on the receiving end of that dissecting glare, he had to bite his tongue to keep his priorities in check.

He had promised Poppy he would move at her pace - baby steps and all - which means respecting her boundaries and only telling other people when she is ready to do so.

So when his mother had brought up Poppy, had asked how she was getting on after being sick, and how he was getting on after she had laid into him after his event the week before, he had told the whitest lie that he hadn’t had chance to check up on her yet.

He had rationalised it by telling himself it was the truth. He hadn’t checked up on her yet, that morning. Not until after brunch, when he had arrived at the arena and had made a bee-line straight for her office.

As much as he wanted his mom to know - wanted to share what could be the biggest thing to ever happen to him with the woman who gave him life, and wanted to see her reaction in person before she was to fly home in a few days - putting pressure on Poppy to tell her just because she’s in the country and will be leaving soon hadn’t exactly seemed like the best idea. Pressing her on it and coercing her into something she might not be ready for had felt unfair - especially given how patient she had been with him.

Only, when he made it to her office, and had heard the sound of her melodic laughter even through the closed door, and had opened it to see her sat across from Josh from PR, all other rational thought had left his head. He had to clench his free fist and bite his tongue to save from screaming the news from the rooftops - thinking there might be someone jumping the queue of who needed to know first.

“Nico!” She had shot up from her seat at his arrival, and he had thought his mind was playing cruel tricks on him when he had seen her eyes light up, but then the telling twist of her lips followed. She was happy to see him. Thank God. Calm down, he had told himself. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just,” his eyes had darted inconspicuously over to Josh, “I’m cutting it a little bit fine for training and I need to talk to you about the thing.”

“The thing.” Poppy had pressed her lips together in amusement, her own focus going back to the man sat on the other side of her desk. “Sorry, Josh, can I come find you later?”

“Of course, you know where I’ll be, Poppy,” Josh stood, “Good luck today, Nico,” he smiled as he passed him. “Go, Devils!”

Nico had jut his head as an acknowledgement, able to just about stop himself from outwardly cringing and rolling his eyes, muttering out a quick and direct, “Joshua,” as if that was any reasonable kind of response.

“You’re disturbingly bad at being subtle.”

“Yeah, well I was on the spot,” he huffed back, eyes narrowing at the chair that was supposed to be his, but now looked uncomfortable and worn. “How’re you feeling?” He had rounded the corner of her desk, instead, stepping more into her side of it and placing a strawberry smoothie he had picked up for her by her monitor before perching himself on the corner. She had still smelled a little like him, like she had used his shampoo when she had been over the day before and the scent still lingered in her hair, and he watched with bated breath as she chose to stand in front of him instead of sitting back down. 

“I’m fine,” she shrugged, arms crossing over herself as she leant against the wall directly in front of him. 

“Fine?”

It wasn’t that she didn’t look fine. She had probably looked the best he had seen her in a good few weeks - colour in her cheeks, hair down and brushed smooth instead of haphazardly pushed back, a soft gleam back in her eyes - but if his sister and mother had ever taught him anything of serious value about women, it would have been that fine never means fine.

“I’ve been resisting the urge to puke in my trashcan for a good hour at Josh’s cologne,” she had admitted, her lips twisting guiltily as if she hadn’t wanted to say anything even remotely mean.

“He smells that bad?” He hadn’t been able to help but tease, and had chuckled heartily when she leaned over to shove at his shoulder.

“No, it was just strong. I feel like I need to sniff coffee or something to reset my senses.”

“Do you want me to get you some?”

“No,” she leans back against the surface behind her. “I thought you were cutting it a little bit fine for training.”

“I am. Do you have plans for tomorrow night?”

“I do actually,” she had craned her head back, wistfully, but had only kept him sweating for a moment before adding, “I’ve made arrangements with my bathroom floor. Candles, Hozier playing, non-alcoholic rosé, I think if I can convince my brain that spending all my time with my head in the toilet isn’t that bad, the nausea will go away.”

“If anyone can reverse-psychology morning sickness, it would be you.”

The smile she had given him back was astute, head tilting from her position against the wall as she raised a brow at him. “Where do you want me?”

If only she knew the half of where he had wanted her. 

“My mom’s going home on Friday morning,” he had mirrored her stance, crossing his arms over his chest and spreading his legs just a little as he sat atop her desk, angling himself so that she was directly ahead of him. “They’re coming to my place for dinner tomorrow night, and she’s been on at me since last week about seeing you again, so I figured it would be nice if you were there.”

“She’s been on at you?”

“Neeky, you should see if Poppy’s free,” he had tried his best to respectfully imitate her voice, and had ended up sounding somewhere in between a muppet and a chipmunk. “Will Poppy be at your game tonight? Will she be at the game on Thursday? She’d probably extend her trip if you asked her to, I don’t even think she flew out to see me in the first place.”

“It’s because she knows.”

“She knows?” 

“Well, she thinks she knows,” Poppy had rolled her eyes affectionately. “She called me out back when you had the signing last week. I’d told her about how I wasn’t feeling or sleeping too great, and she assumed it was because I was pregnant straight away. She’s kind of the whole reason I ever thought to take a test in the first place, apparently you Hischier babies all wreak the same kinds of havoc in the womb.”

“Oh, God, please tell me she didn’t go into too much detail,” he cringed, his face curling up at the thought of what his mother could have possibly said to her - at the thought of her even jumping to that conclusion in the first place. 

“No, it was really sweet, actually.” Poppy hummed, smiling softly just at the memory, “I was trying not to freak out at even the thought of being pregnant, and she spoke about it like it was the greatest time of her life. Even after I told her I wasn’t, she made me feel like it would be okay if I was,”

“That explains why she laid into me after,” he scoffed in amusement, remembering in vivid detail the lecture she had given him as he drove her back to meet up with his dad after the event. “She bit my ear off the whole way back to her hotel about how I need to appreciate the good people in my life more.”

“Aw,” Poppy cooed, pushing herself off the wall and stepping into the space just in front of him, reaching to pinch his cheek gently and mocking him with, “Did Neeky get a telling off from his mommy?”

He had swatted her hand away despite his cheek curving into her touch, trying to suppress the smile teasing his lips at even the closer proximity. “She saw us talking before the event, noticed we weren’t exactly in the best place and she told me to sort things out before I lose you, basically.”

“Her manifestation skills are crazy off the charts,” Poppy had scoffed, gesturing to her belly and lowering her voice like she was sharing an inside joke, “You’re pretty stuck with me, now.”

“What can I say? She’s good.” He had succumbed to the grin that was tugging at each corner of his mouth, so big that his eyes began to crinkle in the corners, and Poppy’s own gaze had flickered down to it and smiled back instinctively. “So, dinner?”

“That depends,”

“On?”

“Are you cooking?”

Nico had sighed, rolled his eyes dramatically and levelled her with as straight a face as he could muster, ignoring the urge to crack a smile at the way her own lips twitched with mirth. “I’m a good cook, Poppy.”

“Of course you are.” She nodded in agreement. “Hell, if I had a particular affliction for plain chicken and rice every day of the week I’d actually say you’re the best cook in Jersey, and I grew up with a house chef!” 

“I’m good with vegetables, too.”

“Just what every pregnant girl wants to hear.” Nico had wished he didn’t find her sarcasm so endearing, she was making it too hard for him to defend himself.

“Why don’t you come over earlier, then? You can supervise,” he hadn’t paid any mind to how desperate he had seemed, pressing and pressing and relenting to her every whim like it was nothing. He’d long made up his mind that things would just be like that for the foreseeable future. “I’ll even provide the candles and the music you’ll be missing out on.”

“Now you’re speaking my language.”

“Is that a yes? I promise I’ll go easy on the cologne.”

“Yours is fine,” Poppy shook her head, affectionately, lips twisting like she had been caught out at something she had no intentions of admitting, “Okay, yeah, I’ll be there. It sounds nice, actually. I did promise your mom I’d catch up with her, too.”

“Perfect,” and only because he seriously was cutting it fine to get to their final practice skate before their game that evening, he had jumped up from the desk, pressed a fleeting kiss to the crown of her head, and parted with, “I’ll pick you up at 6.”

And despite how insistent he had been with her in her office, it had been the third day that opened Nico's eyes to just how nigh on impossible baby steps would be when it came to how far gone he was for Poppy.

It had started in his kitchen, where they had easily settled once he had picked her up from her apartment after work, and the two of them were prepping vegetables to roast for the pasta sauce. Poppy had been laughing at the way he cried while cutting onions, he had been laughing at the way she frowned when she noticed the wine in the corner he had bought specifically for his parents, and they had conversed with ease the whole time as she cut the peppers and he cut the tomatoes - sharing stories of cooking with their families as children; specifically how Poppy used to spend her weekends with her grandmother, and would follow her around the kitchen like a magnet.

“Are you excited to tell her?” He had asked, leaning against the counter after putting their vegetables in the oven to roast and drying his fingers off with a hand towel. 

“I think so,” she had hummed in response, “More than I am to tell my mom, that’s for sure. I think I’m gonna put it off for as long as I can.”

“You don’t think she’ll be happy for you?”

She could only scoff at that, avoiding his gaze as she fiddled with her own fingers, inspecting her nails and shrugging. “She’ll find some way to make me feel bad about it.”

“Why would you feel bad about it?” His heart had sank at the thought - beyond the initial panic and fear at telling him the news, Poppy had been nothing but excited since. Disregarding the ever-present nausea and the exhaustion, she seemed to be running on the fumes of happiness the past few days, their shared secret eliciting subtle smiles whenever their eyes met at work.

“I know that I shouldn’t,” Poppy settled into the counter to the side of him, her posture slumped and defeated, “But she won’t understand it. She’s really old fashioned with stuff like this, and as proud as I am of what we’re doing, and how we’re dealing with this, she’s gonna turn it into something ugly. Lawyers and custody agreements and all those scary, official, set-in-stone kind of things.

And I realise that technically we should be agreeing on all that stuff if we’re not together, but I don’t want to ruin what we’re doing. The whole baby steps thing doesn’t exactly work when we have to pay people to figure everything out for us, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he had tried to keep a reassuring tone, despite the heavy weight that settled on his chest - a sense of impending doom cast over the two of them like a fast approaching dark cloud.

The thought of being on the other side of a nasty custody battle against Priscilla Jensen had made his heart do that hollow kind of thud in his chest. The kind that rattled and stuttered and filled his entire body with unrelenting doubt. The woman had hated him since the first moment she ever laid eyes on him, and that was before the possibility that he could have her grandchild snatched from her clutches in some court order.

Not that he ever would, but it wouldn’t stop the obviously insane thought from crossing her warped mind, and her doing everything in her seemingly unlimited powers to stop it happening.

“Maybe we should just tell her that we are together,” he had said it before even thinking it through, but as soon as the words left his mouth, some of that doubt had eased.

Surely it would lessen the blow, he had thought, if her mom knew that she was in a loving, committed relationship. That this wasn’t some mistake they would both come to regret and resent, or that there would never be an instance in which Nico could ever do anything so spiteful to Poppy as to interfere with her or her family’s rights to their baby.

Poppy’s brows practically met her hairline, shooting up in surprise, her eyes darting to meet his in alarm. “You think that we should pretend we’re a couple? To my mother?”

“It’s not like we wouldn’t pull it off,” he had shrugged, again feeling more comfortable the more the idea fully formulated in his mind, his shoulders straight and his tone fuelled by bravado. “She knows who I am, we’ve been in each other’s lives for years, we’re gonna be in each other’s lives for a long time, we would barely even be pretending, Poppy.” 

He could practically see the cogs turning in her brain, her head tilted, her eyes narrowed and a pensive pout pulling at her lips before she asked, “You’d do that for me?” Like he would be putting himself out. “Knowing what she’s like? Nico, you’re literally throwing yourself to the wolves.”

“I told you before, Poppy, I’d do whatever you need me to do,” he swore, “Even if that means looking your mother in the eye and praying I don’t turn to stone.”

When she grabbed the hand towel from the side and swatted him with it, he caught the fabric with a hearty laugh, his chest swelling with pride as he saw how much effort she was putting in to hold back a grin of her own.

“It’s not the worst idea,” she hummed, “I’ll probably feel less anxious about it if I can share the blame with you.”

“There you go,” he gave her a warm smile, like it was nothing at all for him to be on the receiving end of Priscilla’s wrath. Like the woman didn’t terrify him to his very core. “When should we tell them, then?”

He probably wouldn’t have asked if she hadn’t brought it up, but with his own parents coming over in less than an hour, he had thought he would be able to gather his wits about withholding the truth if he had a timeline for it.

“I don’t know, in a few weeks, maybe? You guys have that stretch where you’re close to home the back end of March, and my brother is coming over for Easter. Maybe if we do it while the whole family is around it might save an argument. Plus, I’ll be around 12 weeks then, I think I’ll feel better telling them when we’ve had those first couple of appointments and we know everything’s okay.”

“Whatever you want to do, I’ll be there, Poppy.” He reached over to clasp his fingers around her hand, which she swiftly turned in his clutch to interlace her own fingers with his. “What about mine? Ideally I’d want to tell my mom in person, but I don’t think she’s coming out for the rest of the season now after Friday.”

“Oh, yeah,” Poppy frowned, her gaze turning guilty as she looked up at him, “Did you want to tell her tonight?”

“Not if that’s too soon for you,”

“If anyone deserves to be the first to know, it’s her, I think,”

“Are you sure?”

And even though it had been the desired outcome, for him to get to tell his parents in person, to see their reactions and gauge their thoughts on it all, he would have held back if that was what Poppy wanted. He would have settled for a FaceTime call if he needed to.

“Yeah,” Poppy smiled, “She called it, I kinda want to see her reaction to be honest.”

“She’s gonna lose her mind.”

“In a good way?”

There was a flash of something vulnerable in Poppy that squeezed relentlessly at his heart - a childlike insecurity wherein she craved any kind of maternal approval, and he felt content in knowing she would at least get some in this instance. 

“Poppy, you don’t even want to know the half of the torture she’s put me through since she met you. The idea of you giving her a grandchild is like the second coming of Jesus or something. She’ll be on cloud nine.”

And despite the cute little snort she did, and the way her lips curved up in the corners, that vulnerability remained. 

“You don’t think she’ll be a little disappointed? Or your dad, even? Like I’m taking your focus away from what’s important?”

Important?

Nico blinked slowly as he tried to comprehend what she was saying, and where it had come from. 

Had he really made her feel like she wasn’t important? Like she hadn’t been his sole source of reprieve and release most days?

“Poppy, you’re important.” He said it with ease, but the weight of the words and how much he meant them pushed on him until he was stepping forward, until his hands gripped at the sides of her upper arms and he just about saved himself from rattling the message into her bones. “My parents know that more than anybody, more than even I do sometimes. There isn’t a single inch of them that would be disappointed in either of us, not for this.”

“Are you sure?”

He raised a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, thumb swiping from her cheekbone up to her temple, “I’m positive,” he had hummed, “If it helps, we can tell my family the same thing we’ll tell yours-,”

“I don’t want to lie to your parents.”

Nico had always thought the way his parents loved Poppy was endearing - the way his father would ask about her work after he kept tabs on her projects with the Foundation online, the way his mother was always checking up with him about her wellbeing and what she was getting up to even outside of work - they had taken to her like she was their own, and he never had any worries or doubts about her being good enough to impress them. 

But the way Poppy loved them back - Poppy who had such fractious relationships with her own parents, who had never grown up with the reassurance that she would be loved and respected no matter what, or that whatever she ended up doing or achieving in life would always be enough - the way she embraced his mom and dad, had never shied away from their enthusiasm or made him feel embarrassed by their interference in her life, was something so precious he couldn’t even fathom the way it made him feel.

Poppy, who has always cared so much about him and his family, that the thought of being dishonest with them had turned her stomach.

“How about a half truth, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“We love each other, right?” She had nodded without any hesitation, and despite the fact that she had told him before, he feels warmth and relief pool in the pit of his stomach. “And we’re figuring out how this is going to work for us, right?” Another nod, and the gentle flutter of her lashes as she maintained eye contact. “Then I don’t think it’s a lie to tell them we’re together. And it helps with the overlap in case our families cross paths down the line, I don’t have to ask mine to bend the truth.”

“Is that what we’re doing? Bending the truth?”

“I think so,” he breathed, confident in his convictions that they weren’t going to have to lie. 

He loved her, she loved him, they were together in the sense that they had each other’s backs in a situation that had the potential to turn their whole worlds upside down. His parents didn’t need to know that he had hurt her before that, had messed things up so bad that she had no faith in his word that he wanted to be with her - but he knew that could be resolved. He felt it in his bones, knew in every fibre of his being that he could prove himself to her. They just needed time.

Time without interference from anyone else that there was an ever-looming deadline on those decisions.

Baby steps. Their own way.

“You don’t think she’ll catch us out?”

He tried to move swiftly past the way his heart sank at the thought that Poppy would always feel like someone was trying to catch her out or prove her wrong. She didn’t deserve that, and thankfully, he knew she wouldn’t receive that from his parents. Maybe they could help him reverse that damage, restore her faith that there would always be people in his world that would be in her corner.

“She’ll be too relieved at the thought of having another daughter that she won’t even care, Poppy. Especially considering it’s you.”

“Okay,” she had breathed out, like a sigh of relief, “Do we need a plan? A backstory?”

He had broken out in a wide grin at the thought, laughter bubbling up from the depths of his chest and he couldn’t even feel guilty about the way she arched her brow, unimpressed and concerned at the same time. “Poppy, we have a backstory. Don’t overthink it. We’re not lying, remember?”

She had started to smile back, bashful and sweet, and he had to force himself to take a step back so that he didn’t do something stupid and impulsive again. 

And he had spent the hour after that until his parents arrived all but tying his hands behind his back to stop himself from touching her, settling for the occasional bump of hips as they moved around his kitchen and the knock of elbows as they set the table together, repeating the baby steps mantra in his head and growing more and more frustrated with every iteration of it.

Only after his parents had arrived and they all sat around talking once they had eaten did he let himself ease into his instincts, self-indulgently slinging an arm across the back of Poppy’s chair and relishing the pounding of his heart when she’d laugh so hard at something that she would lean back into it.

They were yet to broach the big news, deciding between them to wait a little into the night so that they didn’t have to answer too many questions, and Nico had held his breath every time his mother started onto a new topic, just knowing she would be the one to prompt the conversation somehow.

“You know, Poppy,” she had leaned onto the table, pushing her glass of wine forward as not to spill anything, and had given her the kind of smile Nico associated with the gushing, proud speeches she would blurt out after long bouts apart. Where she would get sentimental and sappy and he would pretend it embarrassed him but really it stirred the kind of gratification he longed for when he was homesick. “I’m so glad we got to sit down and do this, I was worried after the last time I saw you we wouldn’t get the chance before I left.”

“Me too, I really appreciated your help back at the event, I figured I couldn’t let you go home without us seeing each other again, and it’s been really nice to catch up on everything.”

“It really has, I’m happy you could fit us in. I was telling Rino how I threatened you not to hang out with him without me when I’m gone next week.”

“I was hurt you agreed so easy, Poppy.” Nico’s father had chided in faux-outrage, with a fond roll of his eyes.

“You can’t call dibs on Poppy, Mom, especially if you’re pouncing on her when she’s sick.”

“I did no such thing!” Katja had gasped, and Poppy had leaned so far back that her head was resting just beyond the inside of Nico’s elbow, no intentions of sitting up or moving, watching his parents with an affectionate beam that lit up her entire face. “I gave her advice on how to feel better! And look at her now, glowing!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Poppy scoffed, “I’m probably a couple months from the whole glowing thing.”

He had felt her go rigid against him as soon as she said it, had tried to rub comfortingly at her shoulder to ease the tension as she looked up at him in alarm - hoping he could telepathically communicate to her that everything was going to be okay.

“A couple of months?” Katja questioned, her brow quirking in the same way Nico’s would whenever he was confused, or weighing up different possibilities in his head.

Poppy’s eyes stayed on his, apologetic, questioning, seeking his approval, and all he could do was smile as he looked down at her, letting the lopsided grin that was twitching at the sides of his mouth take over before he gave a quick nod, letting her take the reins on this.

“Uhh,” she turned back to face his parents, smiling nervously as she looked between them before settling on his mother. “You were right, before, about the dream thing.”

Nico watched as his mom’s lips turned up, the all-too-familiar knowing glint in her eye that only ever shone when she was proven right. The smile took over slowly, until her eyes wrinkled in the corners, and her nose scrunched in delight. “You’re pregnant?” 

Poppy could only nod, and Nico felt his heart swell three times bigger as her face transformed with unadulterated joy.

When she had told Nico, she had been afraid. She had been scared of his reaction, and fearful of what the future held, and he felt proud to know that she didn’t feel that way, anymore. Not in that moment, at least. Her features shone with lighthearted elation, and he could feel his own morph to mirror them.

“Oh, Poppy,” his mom had cried out, her own eyes welling up as she shot up from her seat and rounded the table, “That’s so wonderful!”

He watched tenderly as the two of them embraced, Poppy standing and melting into his mother’s arms, Katja rubbing at her back and most likely squeezing her - a feeling he knew all too well.

And when he looked over to his father, he found him already watching him, and met his eyes immediately, the corners of them crinkling and his lips curved into a soft, perceptive smile that communicated a thousand feelings. Pride, congratulations, acceptance, excitement.

Nico had hoped when Poppy got a good look at Rino, she would see the same - see there was never any need to pretend, any need to lie, that the truth sat between them all comfortably in the shape of familial, unconditional love and support.

“Tell me everything,” Katja had parted with her hands on Poppy’s arms, holding her in front of her with eyes full of wonder, “Nico never said you were seeing somebody.”

“Oh, I-,” Poppy had gawked.

“Mom-,” Nico had sighed.

“Kat,” Rino laughed heartily from across the table. “Don’t be silly.”

With Poppy still grasped in her arms, Katja looked between the three of them. Poppy’s guilty smile, her husband’s amused chuckling, the expectant pressing together of her son’s lips.

She had glanced between Poppy and Nico, doing the math in her head before she gasped. “You two?”

He nodded from behind Poppy, watching her body stiffen in anticipation of a bad reaction, his cheeks starting to ache already from the joy pressing into them. 

“You’re having my grandchild?” Her eyes had gone round, glassy in an instant, and Nico couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to share something with her that brought her this much happiness. She had always been proud of him, but this was something else, entirely. “I knew there was something going on!”

“You didn’t know,” Nico scoffed, standing to rescue Poppy from his mother’s excited shakes, pulling her into his own clutches and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. His hand had inched by default from her hip bone inwards, thumb and fingers cradling the unchanged curve of her belly, but the thought of the tiny seedling sprouting in there set sparks off in his own stomach.

“I’ve known you were hiding something. You’re a terrible liar, Neeky, you were breaking a sweat at brunch yesterday, pretending nothing new was going on,” Katja had pointed, her face morphing into sheer excitement as she shifted toward his father, “And I told you they’d end up together years ago!”

“Mom,” Nico had all but whined, unable to be truly embarrassed when he felt Poppy’s body sink back into his, the tension seeping from her bones as she melted into the moment - any previous anxiety or worries washed away by the fact his mother had come to the conclusion all on her own. There was no need for either of them to fabricate up some story or tell any half truths.

“She did,” Rino stood from across the table, circling around to congratulate the two of them, himself. “The first night we met you, Poppy, she said she had a feeling.”

“You really are good,” Poppy marvelled, her body vibrating with laughter against his. Comfortable, happy, cherished, just how he wanted her to be.

“No, I just know what’s good for my baby boy.” Katja cooed, reaching out to pinch at Nico’s cheeks affectionately before she took Poppy in her arms again, the four of them trading hugs between them like they were in an assembly line, his parents embracing her just like he knew they would, like she was one of their own, expressing their excitement with crinkled eyes and soft kisses to her cheeks.

In the almost 3 weeks that followed that night, baby steps had turned into what Nico could only describe as a misguided, drunken stumble - where he let unsteady limbs carry him in the wrong direction, but still somehow always ended up safe at home.

There had been the shameful Valentines Day incident, where he had built up enough blind courage to ask her over for another dinner date, and had been shut down before he could even properly propose it to her. 

“You doing anything tomorrow?” He asked when he had dropped by her office to offer a quick goodbye before the team flew out to Nashville, watching as her attention barely strayed from her computer, already so deep into her workload so early into her day.

“For Valentines?” She asked across the desk to him, “Oh yeah, I got men lining up down the block to take me out for a dinner I can’t keep down,” she scoffed, oblivious to the flash of something that had washed over him at the thought of her going on a date with someone else.

“Funny,” he gulped.

“Me and the girls usually do Galentines, like a boozy brunch kind of thing, but obviously I’m ruled out this year,” she broke from her typing to gesture at her stomach before going back to it, “Nia found a Paint’n’Sip near her apartment though, so that’s where I’ll be. Sans-sipping, of course.”

Nico had never struggled so much with the English language in one sentence than he had there.

“Galentines?”

Despite the embarrassment that had tickled his spine at asking, the way she smiled when she looked over to him made up for it.

“Valentines for the gals,” she pushed herself from her keyboard, giving her full attention over to him, then, “You boys really miss out on all the fun festivities, you should start a new one! Valen-guy-nes!”

“I’ll be sure to run that by the team on our flight later,” he scoffed.

“C’mon, that’s genius!”

And while he had never ended up asking her for that dinner, he had sent a bunch of flowers straight to her office, and reaped the rewards of his actions when she sent him a picture of two painted mugs beside each other on the Wednesday night, one with pink hearts and unfamiliar writing that said World’s Best Mommy-To-Be beside another, blue hearts with Poppy’s handwriting that read World’s Best Baby Daddy.

The latter end of that same week had been their Stadium Series game, one of the biggest events in the team’s calendar all year, and one he had been looking forward to since it was announced the year before.

The Devils organisation had set up their own celebrations for the guys to mark the monumental occasion, allowing them to bring their loved ones  out to East Rutherford to take part in a family skate. The guys were bringing out their parents, their siblings, their partners, their children. And Nico had wanted more than anything to bring Poppy.

He had followed up on what had now become a routine, dropping by her office that Friday when he arrived at the Rock with a red berry smoothie in hand, perching himself on the corner of her desk and talking through her plans for the day.

She had asked the same of him, knowing his father and sister would be joining him at the stadium, and wanting him to pass on her greetings.

“You could say hi, yourself,” he had said, head tilting as he watched her push back from her desk, her chair rolling to give her enough leverage to properly look up at him instead of half-focusing on her work. 

“We’re not really involved in the stadium stuff, now,” she had frowned, brows furrowing and her own head tilting in response. 

“Would you want to be?”

“Want to be what?”

“Involved.” He crossed his arms over his chest, surveying every iteration of emotion that crossed her face, before adding, “You could come out on the ice with us, for the family skate.”

“Won’t there be cameras there?”

He shrugged, having not put that much thought into that aspect of it. He just wanted his family with him, and she was a part of that now. “If there are, they’re following Jack and Luke, they’re not following me.”

“I think you underestimate how much people pay attention to you, Nico,” she had scoffed, “You get seen carting Bambi on ice around and people will start to ask questions.” She stood from her chair, fidgeting with her fingers as she stepped around him to busy herself with some unnecessary task to avoid the conversation.

“Would that be so bad? For people to ask questions, to know what we are?”

He was thankful for the smile that she gave, one of amusement.

“Nico, we don’t even know what we are.” She scoffed, “And as much as I would love to do it, I also kind of want to protect our peace for as long as we can.”

Protect our peace.

His mind had taken him somewhere he hadn’t wanted to go.

To private pictures being posted online, endless threads of vitriol and lies, and finding her in tears one day at the way her life had been turned upside down.

“Makes sense,” he agreed with a heavy sigh, his chest tightening as his thoughts spiralled. “I’m sorry, that was impulsive, I was just thinking about it and I wanted you to be there.”

He wanted what all the other guys had - to guide her around on wobbly legs and hold onto her for dear life as someone he treasured more than anything. He wanted to share this incredible thing with her, to stand in the centre of a stadium that could facilitate over 80,000 people and know she was the only one who could ever make him feel whole.

“It was sweet,” she reassured, her hand reaching out to rub soothingly at his arm as she stepped back toward him, “And I will be there tomorrow for the game. You just won’t get the pleasure of witnessing me make a fool out of myself on the ice quite yet.”

“Probably for the best,” he let his hand move between them, a curved finger stroking gently at her stomach, always relishing the reminder of what was in there, “I’ll get you out there one day.”

She smiled, big and bright, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. “We’ll see.” She had said, like a promise, and despite him stumbling in his attempts to take another step in the right direction, he had still felt like he stuck the landing.

The weeks ahead had followed the same pattern.

Nico would suggest something to Poppy that fell just outside the remits of baby steps, she would find a way to shut him down - rejecting him with the kind of grace he wished softened the blow even the slightest, but didn’t - and he would go back to the drawing board on how to warm her up a little more to his attempts at moving the goalposts of their relationship.

And then, finally, Blueberry Day arrived.

Nico has circled the date in every diary he owns. The one on his phone, the little magnetised version attached to his fridge at home, the one he shares with his family in an online drive.

The date of Poppy’s first scan. 

He drops by her office to pick her up at lunch, having showered after his morning skate and freshened up enough not to cause concern when he takes her for something to eat before the appointment. 

They grab lunch together, Poppy’s morning sickness having subsided for the most part, only coming in the odd bout here and there and she no longer has to stress about certain foods aggravating her stomach. She’s now kicking into cravings - or, so she says.

Conveniently, it’s anything sweet - which helps his cause with the smoothie thing. She had directed him to a bakery nearby the clinic, and the two of them sit in the corner, Poppy trying her best to gulp down her water in preparation for the scan and chatting to him around mouthfuls of almond croissants and strawberry jam.

He tries to control his urges as he notices her press her fingers to her mouth when she watches him talk, cleaning them of the sticky sweet substance and batting her eyes at him like it’s nothing. 

3 weeks of taking things slow have done nothing but take a toll on him, every sense heightened when it comes to the girl in front of him - everything she does so endearing and captivating that he can’t remember the last time his heart wasn’t racing.

And when they’re sat in that darkened room together - her shirt raised to reveal the skin of her stomach, her fingers linked through his beside her on the bed, and both their gazes widened and glassy as they watch the slight staticky movements of a tiny peanut like figure on the screen in front of them - he feels like he is about to implode.

It’s a euphoric feeling if anything, unlike any emotion he’s ever felt before. That tiny peanut is theirs. Their blueberry. Their baby. And it’s still so small but is already occupying such a big part of his life.

He wakes up, and he thinks about it - anticipates his morning routine when the baby comes, getting up before Poppy, getting a bottle ready in the kitchen while he makes himself a coffee, getting the first feed out of the way so that she can sleep in. He goes to work and he thinks about it - one day carrying his little mini me around the arena, pointing out all the corners of the building in which he and Poppy became what they are now, what they could be in the future. He goes back to his apartment and he thinks about it - about a floor littered with toys and books, laughter bouncing off the walls, joy emanating from everywhere he turns in a place that had never felt as much like a home.

And his chest aches with optimism and longing.

It aches so much that when they get their little printouts of the scan, monochromatic stills of the ever-growing life in Poppy’s belly, he can’t stop himself from looking at it every chance he gets. 

How he manages to lose it is beyond him - but it arouses a panic like nothing he’s ever known. 

When he’s in the locker room after a game against Montreal, adrenaline still pumping through him to suppress the incoming ache of his body, he reaches into the pocket he knows he had stored the picture, only to come up short. He waits until the room has emptied, the boys trickling out annoyingly slow as his stress levels increase, before he gets on his hands and knees to look for it. 

He had it before practice earlier. He’d swiped tenderly at the curve of it’s little body as a calming practice, the picture grounding any nerves he had for the game later in the day. And after that, he had been too into his routine, and too surrounded by his unknowing teammates, to get it back out again. 

“Are you looking for something?”

He’s on all fours like a dog in the locker room when Poppy finds him, completely forgetting the two of them were going for dinner to talk about the next appointment. He turns to see her leaning against the open door, observing him with a quirked brow and a gaze that is a combination of amusement and accusation.

“I’m-,” He’s still a little out of breath from the game, and from darting around like a mad man in search of the small square of photo paper. He feels out of sorts in so many ways it’s a surprise he hasn’t blown up in some sort of catastrophic meltdown - hair still slick from his post-game shower, which he feels like he dressed too quickly after, the seams of his t-shirt twisting awkwardly around his elbows. “I’m good.”

He doesn’t want to stress her out. 

“You’re good?” Poppy asks, stepping a little further into the room, nose scrunching only slightly as she tries not to breathe too much in through it. Testing the limits of her dwindling morning sickness shouldn’t be subjected to the various smells of the locker room.

“Yup,” he gives a guilty smile, standing up from where he was crouched and dusting himself off. “Couldn’t be better.”

“Really?” She steps closer.

“Uh huh,” he stands firm.

“Not even if you had this back?” She holds the sonogram between two fingers and extends it out to him, and he practically charges over to close the distance to take it back and examine it closely. 

Monochrome. Peanut shape. Poppy’s name in the corner. 

“How did you get this?” He turns it to look at both sides, as if she would have written her name in sharpie on the back. “It isn’t yours?”

“No, mine is safely locked in my car where it can’t be dropped for the whole building to see.” She’s still smiling despite the condemnation, her head tilted and lips twisting with mirth as she takes in his flustered appearance. 

“Who saw it?” He winces in preparation for the answer, praying to whatever God is out there to please not let it be one of the brothers.

“Timo,” she tells him, thankfully deciding to put him out of his misery already instead of dragging it on. “He’s very excited.”

“Fuck,”

“Yeah,”

“Why didn’t he-,”

“He seems to be very into finding new ways to make you suffer, I think. I just bumped into him on his way out, he was really happy with himself.”

He and Timo have been fine ever since their blip back on his birthday, he had thought. Clearly not fine enough.

He’s in for it the next time Nico sees him, he thinks.

“He’s supposed to have my back.” Nico pouts as his thumb swipes at the picture, his lips slowly softening into a smile as the gesture calms him once more. “I’ve done so well not telling anyone, and if he just gave this back to me, you’d never have known he found out.”

“Oh, I’d have known, he can’t hold his waters to save his life,” Poppy scoffs, watching as Nico goes to grab his jacket and get his phone and keys. “Probably for the best he came straight to me or someone else would have noticed him getting giddy and we both know he would have blabbed.” 

“He’s a traitor.”

“He’s your best friend,” Poppy smiles as he frowns, thick eyebrows curving down until a little line forms between them, and she reaches to smooth it out from sheer instinct. “Now we both have someone who knows.”

“My entire family knows, Poppy,”

“Yeah, but do you don’t see them everyday, it’s different,” she shrugs, and when he realises she doesn’t actually mind it, the tension releases from his shoulders. “Plus, I’m actually conspiring to steal your parents so they’re our family now that I have the perfect in.”

“They’d go willingly, I’m not sure that’s stealing.”

“And now that Timo knows about little Cheeto, you have someone you can get excited with. The perfect distraction.”

“Cheeto?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it looks like a little Cheeto in there.” She steps straight in front of him, the picture between them, and she traces a pointed finger around the shape. His eyes follow the movement, their arms bumping, and he looks down just as she looks up at him.

“I’ve been calling it Peanut.”

Her lips twist. “That’s lame,” she nudges at his side, “We’re gonna have to work on your creativity before it comes. I can’t have you naming our baby something boring.”

Her eyes sparkle in amusement, and he likes the way his stomach flips at the mention of our baby.

God, he wants to kiss her - the lingering twist in his gut at her previous rejection be damned.

“I thought Peanut was cute.” He tucks the photo into his pocket and slings an arm around her shoulder as they make their way out, their steps syncing as they walk toward the exit - Poppy making no effort to shrug away.

“Cheeto’s cuter.”

“Fine, Cheeto it is.” He relents immediately, because he had realised something the second he and Poppy saw the little Peanut-Cheeto hybrid forming in her belly. 

He doesn’t need to move the goalposts or make efforts to convince her of anything. Acquiescing to her every whim is the least he can do for the girl who’s building their future. He can revert to his old ways, with the kind of easy conversation and familiarity that lay the foundation of something bigger. Something better.

As long as she keeps giving him moments like this, with soft, devoted smiles and tender glances that say more than a thousand words ever could, he’ll go at whatever pace she wants. 

Poppy

Poppy has convinced herself that there is an ever-evolving part of her brain that is actively praying on her downfall. 

It’s the only logical explanation for why on Earth she would ever keep a man like Nico at arms length, she thinks, because ever since she told him she was pregnant, he has been some sort of godsend, showing up for her in every possible way.

It had started with smoothies in the mornings - he would bring them to her everyday, or have them dropped off if he wasn’t around. Had tumbled then into getting lunch delivered to her office, always fine tuned to when she might be hungry, or what she might be hungry for - even when he was on the road and hadn’t seen her in a couple of days. It was followed by texts to cheer her up when she started to miss him a little, or when she was overwhelmed with emotions for whatever reason - she felt like he just knew her like the back of his hand.

It made it all feel so easy.

And he had been attentive to the newly acquired hormones without even being aware of it. The smallest ticks he has always had, the pushing back of his hair, the crooked smile that presses one side of his cheek up when he knows he’s being funny, every shift of his muscles when his arms fidget as he speaks, have all all managed to settle the bubbling in Poppy’s stomach that had her yearning for physical touch.

He had even been helping her in weird, subliminal ways. 

When his mother had told Poppy that while she was pregnant with Nico, she had movies playing in her head the whole night while she slept, she thought she was being hyperbolic.

But, God, had her dreams been intense. 

And it probably hadn’t helped that first night after she told him - after she had slept in his bed the night before, had used his shampoo in the shower despite him buying her her own, and had even spritzed his cologne on the sleeves of the hoody he had loaned to her - that she retired to her own bed wearing that same hoody and keeping her hair down for once through the night.

She was enabling herself at that point. Encouraging her own mind to dream of him by flooding her senses until it had no other choice. But the dream she had when she had slept over at his place was a lot nicer than the ones from before, and she wanted to try and replicate the circumstances.

He had been enabling her too, though - and sometimes she had thought he knew exactly what he was doing. 

It had started with their game at MetLife stadium - more specifically, those God-forsaken outfits he and the guys wore to arrive in. She had sworn when she’d first seen him in it that he’d chosen it specifically to be dream-fodder. She could foresee many restless nights tossing and turning in her sheets, visions worsening with the vivid mental bank of pictures she saved of him in that tank top, the chain she had gifted him slung from the neck, thick muscles and broad shoulders-

And that had only been from a picture.

She’d gone to the game with Nia, who had flashed her phone to Poppy with a quick quip of, “They look straight out of The Sopranos,” and it had been a tweet of the boys on the carpet.

She had only seen him at that point - the image burned into her retinas as she nodded and hummed along to whatever her best friend had been saying up until the point the team came out onto the ice.

And then he had scored within the first minute, and she had watched a stadium full of people erupt into mostly-celebration for the man who held her heart, who’s baby she was carrying in her belly, and her whole body had buzzed with pride.

She got to watch him thrive on the largest stage he’d ever played on, and she had started to feel weirdly possessive and uncharacteristically regretful.

He had tried to share some part of this with her when he’d asked her to come out for the family skate, and she had turned him down.

And it was with that regret that she decided to meet him after. She brought Nia for protection, flashing her staff pass to get the two of them to the designated family lounge at the stadium, where Nico’s dad and sister were waiting for him, too.

She got to introduce Nia to the two of them, that immediate circle of people being some of the only people in the world to know the true extent of her relationship with Nico, and so when they finally reunited, and he swept her up into his arms, taut muscles wrapping around her still vibrating frame, she let herself melt into him. Let herself bask in his touch for as long as she could withstand, pressing her face into his chest and circling her arms around his torso, holding out to hear the rampant thud of his heartbeat.

And he had been so happy that it felt contagious. Spread onto her like a lingering fever, that she didn’t actually want to shift. It remained for weeks, flooding into her bloodstream when she needed it the most.

When she became emotional out of nowhere, when she became fearful or stressed for no reason, she thought of him - of his unwavering support, of the ease in which he cared for her, cared about her, and she relied on that to get her through most days.

And most nights.

Dreaming of him in that tank top, or out of it.

Dreaming of him in her bed, on her couch, in her kitchen - every corner of her apartment tainted in the best possible way - and it ended up being the only thing keeping her resolve in tact.

In her dreams, she never held back. She never thought too much about things, just let pure intuition and desire take over. Instead of stepping back, instead of pressing that restrictive hand to his chest, she pulled, she gripped, she held on for dear life.

Because as long as she could have him in her dreams, she didn’t have to give in to him in person. She could maintain her insistence on taking things slow, on figuring things out in their own time, without all the intensity and pressure of rushed intimacy. She no longer had to overthink every interaction, able to take his word at face value, and lose herself in the familiarity of their teasing back and forth.

And in reality, when he flashed her one of those dimpled smiles, or let his darkened gaze linger on hers for so long it made her breath stutter, she didn’t feel like she was about to fall.

Not in a bad way, at least.

He just has an innate ability to make things easy for her. 

When she had her first scan, he could have made it hard on her. Could have let his nerves overshadow hers, could have asked a bunch of questions that scared the living crap out of her, but he had let her take the reins. He did the same with his parents - let her bask in their praise and adoration, never made her feel guilty or selfish for the way they kind of made that moment about her instead of him.

And, as they make the drive to her parent’s house over in Alpine, he does the same - distracting her with questions about them and their lives to fill the heavy silence - quelling her anxiety with lighthearted jokes and genuine interest in her family.

He asks her about her brother, who he had met briefly one time before in passing, but who she rarely sees - and she tells him about his family, his wife and their two boys, who are coming over from the West Coast for Easter and who he will meet when they get to the house.

He asks about her nephews, about her bond with them, and she gets to tell him that, despite her rocky relationship with her brother, his wife Kimberley often FaceTimes her with updates on the boys, and she’s managed to maintain some semblance of a connection through a phone screen with them.

He reluctantly asks about her mother, and Poppy ends up being the one to really delve into that minefield. 

Only, this time when she talks about it, there isn’t the same heaviness she had felt when they first proposed telling her - all those weeks ago back in Nico’s kitchen.

There’s trepidation, but there isn’t fear.

“She might not be horrific to be fair. She loves Easter. And Oli’s here with the kids so she can’t be as awful to me as usual if she still wants them to think she’s their gentle unassuming grandma.”

“And you’re gonna be on your best behaviour so she’ll stay in a good mood, right? Play along so she lowers her guard?” he asks, sending her a sidewards glance.

“Ha, you wish!” Poppy chuckles, “I have a whole list of sickly sweet nicknames in my head for you that are gonna drive her up the wall. She hates that lovey-dovey stuff. You can’t take my one source of fun from me, Nico.”

“Poppy, that isn’t gonna help me win her over.”

“That ship sailed a long time ago, baby,” she makes a mocking kissy face at him, and something fizzes in her gut at the flush that swarms up his neck.

“Fine, what about your dad, how do I win him over?” Nico glances quickly over to Poppy, one hand in control of the wheel and the other drumming slightly on his lap in time to the low hum of music playing in the car. “Is he a hockey guy?”

“God no,” she scoffs, her body angled toward his, legs bent so her knees are toward the centre console and she can watch him as he drives, looking out the window for an extended period still making her feel a little sick. “No offence.”

“I want to say none taken,” she likes that she can see the indent of his dimples still from this angle.

“Not a hockey family,” she sighs. “Do you know anything about football?”

“I know a lot about actual football.” Another quick glance over gives her a quick glimpse of the flash of amusement in his dark eyes, warmth and familiarity bubbling in her stomach.

“What does that even mean?”

“Soccer, Poppy.” He corrects, that almost-instinctual sour face he pulls whenever the word doesn’t quite taste right coming from his mouth tugs at his brows. 

“Absolutely not,” she cautions him, straightening in her seat, “He has this stupid story about how Ronaldo once stole his table at his favourite restaurant in Turin, and I don’t want to have to hear it again. I’m not even sure it was actually him, but either way, he hates soccer.”

“Noted.” Nico chuckles.

“Golf?”

“I like it, I’m not the best, though.”

“Do you know enough to hold a conversation?”

“Does that not risk him wanting to play?”

Poppy reaches toward the screen in the middle, tapping away the warning that comes up on the navigation for impending road works, figuring the more delays they can encounter, the merrier - even though they’re probably not even 10 minutes away by now.

Maybe all the roads can just close down? She and Nico can do a swift u-turn and haul ass back to Jersey City. Where’s the harm in just texting her mom the news? She’ll get a lecture either way, she thinks.

“He likes winning, it doesn’t matter if you’re bad.” She shrugs, her head pressing sideways into the headrest as she again focuses on his profile. 

“What about tennis?”

“Ooh, perfect,” she cheers, “He loves Federer!”

“Really?” Nico turns, excitement in his eyes and a genuine smile twisting at his lips. 

“Yeah!” She responds, “I think so!” And when she actually does think about it, she realises she isn’t sure. “He goes to the Open in Queens every year, I can’t actually remember if he roots for anyone.”

“Real helpful, Poppy,” 

“You’re asking me how to impress my parents like I’ve ever even done it,” she scoffs, liking the way he shakes his head as if he’s trying his best not to find her funny. 

It’s helping. He’s helping.

Just like he had when she had been nervous to tell his parents - and that had turned out okay. He’d made her feel comfortable and supported, and even just doing this - driving her home, subjecting himself to the horrors of a Jensen family dinner and heeding none of the warnings she tried to give him - made her feel even the slightest bit better.

“My dad isn’t as hard as my mom, don’t worry about it.”

“I want him to like me.”

“My dad doesn’t really like people. He likes money and things like boats and cars,” she sighs, eyes following the movement of his other hand settling on the wheel, the flex of his fingers as he splays and stretches them out, the whitening of his knuckles as he tightens his grip back up, the glint that reflects from his wrist, “Ooh, and watches! You’re a watch guy!”

“I’d like to think there’s more to me than just being a watch guy,” he scoffs, and when she rolls her eyes in response, the view out of the window catches her eye, and that impending sense of doom fills the car once again. 

She could make the rest of the drive with her eyes closed. Just a few more turns until they make it to the gate, swirl up the winding driveway and arrive in the courtyard of her parents’ home, the grandeur of it all swallowing her up into a deep, vacuous pit of ignorance and facade.

Nico must notice the stiffening of her spine or the clench of her jaw, because she’s shocked back into the moment with the clasp of his hand around hers. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Mohn,” he reassures, but where Poppy would usually find his optimism endearing, this time it makes her feel worse.

He doesn’t know the half of it. 

He’s never had a reason to believe it wouldn’t be okay.

It had been for him.

His parents had been accepting, had welcomed Poppy with open arms and warm embraces, and God, was she thankful for that - but knowing he’s about to enter into this with blissful ignorance encompasses her with a sense of dread.

“Could you promise me something before we get there?” She asks, shuffling completely to face him in the seat, knees knocking against the centre console and her free hand falling atop where their others are intertwined. 

“If you’re gonna ask me to take the seat by your mother at dinner, then no,” he chuckles, and when he glances out the corner of his eye, and notices her demeanour, he squeezes her hand consolingly. “Sorry, go on,”

“I really don’t want you to think less of me when you see where I came from,” she chews nervously at the inside of her cheek as she watches him consider her words - watches the scrunch of his face, the furrow of his brow, the downturn of his lips. “Like, I know you’ve met my mom, and I know you think she’s scary, but you don’t know the full extent of it. I really don’t think this is gonna go too well, and you’re gonna see some pretty ugly stuff in there, and sometimes I don’t like who I am when I’m here so I need you to promise me that whatever happens, you won’t run afterwards.”

“I won’t run, Poppy,” he promises, relaying his sincerity in the soft swipe of his thumb over the back of her hand, and giving it one last squeeze before he adds, “I have a car. I’ll drive.”

And he’s lucky he’s driving, she thinks, because she throws his own hand back at him, frowning purposely and dramatically to mask a smile as he gives a hearty laugh, the vibrations of which settle deep in her bones, outweighing the anxiety that had been riddled in them before.

It’s enough that when they park up, and he helps her out onto the gravel while he gets their overnight bags from the trunk, she isn’t overcome with dread.

When he looks up at the overwhelming size of her family home, and his eyes widen and his jaw drops, she doesn’t fear judgement - not from him, at least. 

And once their bags are discarded by the stairs, and she takes his hand to lead him through the house and out to the sprawling garden she knows her parents and her brother’s family are gathered in, she doesn’t feel the need to turn and bolt back out the door.

Their hands stay clasped together as they greet her family. Her brother’s wife, Kimberley, being the first to come over.

She introduces Nico as her boyfriend, and it rolls off the tongue a lot easier than anticipated, the slight reassuring squeeze his hand gives hers easing any guilt she might start to feel over technically lying straight to her sister-in-law’s face. 

Her brother is next, their boys in tow, and then her father.

Her mother keeps a measured distance, narrowed eyes focused on the point where Nico and Poppy are connected, and when she makes her way over, her greeting is cold.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be bringing company.”

“I told dad,” Poppy shrugs, knowing her father would never have passed the message on if she called him during his daily newspaper time. He barely ever listened to her, his nose buried in the business section, and would just hum and grunt in response. “You remember Nico, right?”

“I don’t recall the two of you being together,” she frowns, again glancing down at their intertwined hands.

And, God bless Nico, Poppy thinks, as the poor, misguided soul tries to relay some kind of heartwarming sentiment to Priscilla, with, “We’ve been seeing each other for a little while now,”

“Seeing each other,” she scoffs, “I see my gardener every day, yet I’m not out here skipping around holding hands like children.”

“Maybe you should hold someone’s hand, a little physical touch and you might lose the stick up your-,”

“You have a beautiful home,” Nico squeezes Poppy’s hand once more, this time more like a warning. “Poppy never told me how magnificent it was.”

“Yeah, well, Poppy only seems to think she should feel shame about her home life. She doesn’t understand the amount of work or effort it takes to maintain something like this.”

“Oh, I-,”

“Leave it, babe,” Poppy sighs, tugging on Nico’s hand as she tells her mother, “We’re gonna get something to drink.”

And as she pulls him to safety, toward a table where pitchers of lemonade and water sit, he rolls his shoulders and lets out a huff.

“Has she ever tried leading with hello?”

“My mother doesn’t do niceties, Nico.”

And as the day winds on, Priscilla Jensen does little to prove that theory wrong.

Poppy thinks she’s going out of her way to make Nico feel like an inconvenience - and while she knows she had been childish in not telling her mom directly about his attendance, she had done so with the knowledge that there was always more than enough to go around in the Jensen house - so when she makes little effort to accommodate his presence, Poppy amps up her own efforts to get on her mother’s last nerve.

When they all sit around the table outside for a light lunch, and there isn’t enough seats for everybody, Poppy takes one for the team and perches herself on the arm of Nico’s chair, one arm slung around his shoulders and the other feeding him bites of the sandwich they’re sharing because his hand had taken up residence on her waist.

Whenever anyone has a story to tell, an anecdote or a recap of recent events, Poppy uses the time to insert little quips about Nico. About his experiences travelling, about his life, or about his successes in his career - giving the family who only care about themselves and their own reputation no other option but to learn about him. When her dad tells stories of his recent trip to Prague, Poppy chimes in with “Nico and the team will be playing out there in October, isn’t that right, babe?” And when Kimberley and Oli speak about taking their kids skiing in the Alps, Poppy suggests that Nico give them recommendations.

When her mother demands her to help with another round of drinks, and has only gathered enough glasses for the guests she had originally accounted for, Poppy makes a point of gathering one more. 

And when the festivities start, she recruits Nico in helping her nephews find all the eggs in the hunt - figuring if she has any chances of charming anyone, it would be the boys. And what would annoy her mom more than her grandchildren worshipping the ground Nico walks on?

Nothing.

As little effort as annoying Priscilla Jensen takes, it ends up exhausting Poppy quicker than she had anticipated, and so she ends up folding into Nico’s side while he tries his best to keep up in conversation with her dad and brother. It’s where she stays for almost an hour, still perched on the arm of his chair despite the seats that have since freed up, until her legs start to get restless.

“I’m just gonna run to the bathroom,” she whispers to him, their noses bumping when he turns his head and whispers pleadingly in response for her to be quick.

She travels through the halls with a pep in her step, having enjoyed her afternoon grinding her mom’s gears, and even though she knows winding her up isn’t going to pay off too well for her in the long run, the short run victories are worth it for the time being - alleviating the bubbling panic in her gut, even if just temporarily. If it wasn’t for her pettiness, all she’d have to think about is her nerves around telling the big news - and she’d soon get swallowed whole by her mom’s little digs.

The panic fizzes up a little when she exits the bathroom to find her mother waiting outside, and her breath catches in her lungs at the shock of her lurking there like the grim reaper.

“Jesus, Mom, you can’t creep up on people like that, especially outside the bathroom, it isn’t appropriate.”

“Oh, lay off the theatrics for a day in your life, Poppy, I didn’t raise you to be this dramatic.”

“Are you sure about that? I can go ask the gardener considering how close the two of you are-,”

“Don’t get clever with me,” she narrows her eyes at her daughter, “You’re not as cute as you think you are, and the more games you play trying to rile me up, the more your little friend will see that. It’s unbecoming to be so childish, dear.”

“It’s also unbecoming to be such a bad host. If the ladies at your luncheons could see you now, they’d throw you out on the streets, Mom.”

“I’m not entertaining your immaturity any longer, you get your fun in while it lasts, I’m sure by the time you go home tomorrow your friend will see you for what you are,”

“He’s my boyfriend-,”

“And please go easy on the chocolate, the egg hunt is for the children, Poppy,” her mom chides, a judgemental roll of her eyes and a bobble-head like shake of her head causing Poppy’s fists to clench by her sides.

“I’m your child, am I not?” She asks, petulantly.

“You’re a grown woman who might want to start thinking about how hard it’s going to be to shift that little pouch you’re getting now that you’re older.” She sneers back, a pointed finger gesturing to her daughter’s torso. “Don’t think I didn’t notice when you were reaching for those glasses in the kitchen, before.”

“Pouch?”

“The extra belly you have going on from no doubt eating a bunch of processed garbage at that circus you call a workplace, honey. I’m telling you, there will come a point that it doesn’t just go away if you skip a couple lunches.”

It’s just like her mother to strike low when she’s losing an argument.

And where Poppy would usually be offended - disgusted, even - at her need to comment on even the slightest changes in her body, or how she can even find ways to slip a subtle dig about her job into a completely unrelated conversation, she bites her tongue. The snappy response fizzles back into her throat as she waits for her mom to continue on her way back to the festivities before she turns on her heels and steps back down the hallway in search of the mirror at the end.

Extra belly?

She lifts her sweater and turns where she stands, and, sure enough, there’s an ever-so-slight roundness to the bottom of her stomach that hadn’t been there last week.

The tension seeps out of her body as she presses her hand there,, cups the shape with curved fingers and strokes at the skin with her thumb.

“Hi, baby,” she whispers, biting back a beaming smile - and before she can lose herself in the moment, and someone else catches her in the hall looking like a crazy person, she drops the fabric back over her torso and sets off in search of Nico.

She finds him back out in the garden, standing beside her dad and looking as uncomfortable as ever, arms folded across his chest as he watches Oliver’s boys fight over a little egg they both found at the same time. 

“So,” she hears him speak after clearing his throat, “Do you like golf?”

“Hey, babe,” she approaches from the side, looping her hand through the crook of his arm and folding into his side. “I need to show you something,” she hums, and turns to her dad, “I’m just gonna borrow him for a second, we’ll be right back,”

“Don’t rush on my account,” he scoffs, and, thankfully for him, she again can’t find it within her to care about how rude he’s being. 

She tugs at Nico’s arm until it uncrosses with his other, and slips her hand into his, intertwining their fingers and pulling until he stumbles to follow. She guides him back through the house, and into the closest bathroom she can find, shutting and locking the door behind the two of them.

“I don’t think locking us away in a bathroom is gonna give your parents the best impression of me, Poppy,” he sighs, letting her push at him with two hands on his firm chest until he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

“Like I said earlier, we’re past the point of no return with those two,” she sighs, the disappointment only lasting a second before she remembers why she lured him into the room in the first place. “Look!”

She lifts her sweater, angling her body how she had before and biting her lip as she awaits his reaction. 

“Is this an attempt to seduce me?”

“What? No!” She tries not to succumb to the heat filling her head. “You think I’d shove you on a toilet to seduce you?”

“Depends how desperate you were, I suppose.”

“Is that what works for you? A girl flashing you her stomach?”

The banter is nostalgic and familiar, and she feels more at home in the small guest bathroom with him than in the rest of the house, entirely.

He shrugs with a smirk, and gives one of those trailing, darkened looks down her figure as he says, “Depends on the girl.”

“Shut up,” she scoffs, ignoring his chuckles as she looks down at her belly and caresses it as she had to herself in the mirror, highlighting the swelling with her fingers. “I have a little pouch!”

“Like a kangaroo?”

“No, like the woman growing your offspring inside her.”

He reaches a hand out and presses it beside hers on her stomach, his palm cupping the roundness of it, and Poppy finds herself holding her breath in anticipation.

His touch is gentle, and his dark eyes roam the expanse of her skin, assessing the slight change there, committing it to memory before that lingering smirk melts into a soft smile.

“Hey, Peanut.” he hums, pulling her closer with another hand at her waist, and she steadies herself with her hand on his shoulder. Her fingers curl around the back of his neck, scratching slightly at the base of his skull, and his clutch at the dip of her hip while he runs the tip of a finger over the beginning of a bump. 

“Cheeto,” she corrects him.

“Sorry, Cheeto.” His laugh is breathy and his voice is low, “Getting big in there, huh?”

“As big as a fig,” she beams with pride, heart palpitating when he looks up at her, chocolate eyes gleaming and lips stretched into a smile.

“A fig?”

“Yeah,” she pushes down the memory of the last time he looked up at her from that angle, and makes a fig sized circle with her fingers and holds it to him. He lifts his own fingers to copy it before moving it back down to her belly and resting it there for comparison, features flushed with awe as he pictures what it would look like in there.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

His touch lingers for a good minute as he watches her belly and she watches him, taking slow, measured breaths to quell the rampant beating of her heart. 

Her anxiety starts to dwindle somewhat, and a thought settles within her that no matter what else happens while they’re here, she’ll always have this. 

She’ll always have him.

Poppy has never wanted to hurt someone as much as she wants to hurt her brother right now. 

She could honestly leap over the dining table and throttle him - but then again, she should have been fine tuned to the way he and her father had been talking all day, the two of them never being able to go a full five minutes without talking business.

“What do you mean Rich Horowitz got in before you?”

She wishes with all her might she didn’t come from a family where they had mortal enemies, but here she is, listening to how her brother has fumbled one of the biggest investment opportunities of his life to her dad’s biggest opponent. Losing out on millions of dollars that is now going straight to Rich Horowitz's pockets.

“He sniped me, Dad,” Oli all but whines from his place at the bottom of the table, Kimberley having disappeared a while back to put the kids to bed - something he clearly has no interest in helping with. 

If she thinks he’s put her in a bad mood, when she looks over to her dad, she thinks he’s turning purple.

“And how on Earth did you let that happen?!”

“I didn’t let it happen,” Oli scoffs, “He was eavesdropping like a rat at the country club and I-,”

“Stop talking.” Philip snaps, pointing his knife down the table at his son, “This is your problem, you don’t know when to shut up. Why were you talking private business for the whole world to hear at the club?”

“Because it was a business trip? That’s what we do, get a few holes in and share investment tips-,”

“Maybe next time you can ask to share some brain cells.” He growls as Kimberley returns, meekly sitting beside Oliver and immediately taking a big gulp of her wine. 

Poppy tries to focus on her breathing, tries to focus on the calming presence of Nico beside her, their chairs moved so close together that their thighs touch, and he helps her feel warm all over.

She can do this. Just wait for her dad’s anger to pass and bring up her own life. 

Poppy’s father gives a disapproving huff, and his fork hits his plate with a loud clatter as if the conversation has put him off his food entirely. “What about you, Poppy? Any horrific news that you’d like to share with the table? I know how the two of you like to try to one-up each other.”

See, she tells herself, that hadn’t taken long at all. 

“Oh, uhm,” her chest feels tight, cold even, like she’s been out in the crisp air a little too long and needs a hot drink to settle herself back in, “Actually-,”

“Have you joined the Church of Scientology? Pledged your inheritance away to some fruitless non-profit? Have you gone and got yourself a heinous lower back tattoo?”

“Philip, please,” her mother scoffs, as if the tattoo is the worst option in the list. “Let’s move on, Kimberley, how is James getting on in the first grade?”

“Oh, well, he-,"

And only because the interruption and swift change in subject grates at Poppy, she straightens up in her seat, a hardened glare directed towards her mother, and she blurts out before she can think twice about it, “I’m pregnant.”

The way her mother turns her attention back to her is slow. She blinks, as if she’s registering what was said, and swivels in her seat to narrow her eyes back at Poppy.

“Ha!” Oliver pipes up from further down the table before their mom has a chance to react. “That’s hilarious.”

“No it isn’t.” Priscilla snaps, “It is not funny in the slightest.”

“Why would it be hilarious, Oliver?” She frowns over at her brother, trying to tell her mind to succumb to the way Nico’s hand settles above her knee to calm her, but nothing at this point will work.

“You as a mother? You can barely take care of yourself, you don’t know the first thing about being a parent.”

“Well I figured if you could have a go at it, anyone could.”

The two of them are both airing grievances to a party that isn’t listening, isn’t technically even fighting back, just firing bullets at one another with little regard for where they might ricochet.

“See. You’re a child.”

“And you’re a loser. You have everything in your life handed to you and you still fuck it all up.”

“And what, you’re going to have a baby with him?” He points towards Nico with the edge of his fork, immediately getting her back up. “With some jacked up meathead who slaps plastic around with a stick for a living?”

Nico’s grip tightens on her flesh, and while her heart tells her he’s trying to reassure her, trying to stop her from sinking to his level or taking the bait, her head tells her otherwise. Her mind says he’s offended, he’s hurt, and she can’t go another second without at least trying to defend his honour.

Defend the perfect man who’s been by her side all day - has been by her side since the second he found out. Who brings her smoothies every morning like his father brought his mother when she was pregnant, who looks up all the vitamins she needs and makes sure she’s fully stocked up, who holds her hand and supports her in anything and everything she does.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” she sneers, feeling the pressure of his hand when she starts to stand. “Just because you’re a fuck up and an embarrassment to your family, doesn’t mean you get to point the finger at my life. Nico is a great partner, and he’s going to be an even better dad, because he has a big heart and a sense of fucking direction and dignity, something you wouldn’t know if it came and slapped you in the face-,” 

“Mohn,” Nico tries to ground her, delicate fingers stroking at the arm attached to her now pointed fingers, but it’s no use.

“Which, if you say one more thing about him again, I’ll slap you in the face. You have no right to pass judgement on my life or the people in it.”

“Poppy, stop it!” Her mother slams her own cutlery down onto the table, the glasses shaking and the liquid within them sloshing around at the intensity. “There’s no need to threaten your brother over something that isn’t even real. You should apologise for causing such a scene!”

Poppy doesn’t think that even dignifies a response, so instead of biting back, she reaches into her pocket, pulling out her copy of their scan and sliding it across the table.

There is a slow, prolonged silence that lingers between everyone at the table, and Poppy can see her dad shifting uncomfortable out of the corner of her eye, can feel Nico’s gentle touch on her wrist, but all she can focus on is her mom’s reaction. 

Her lip curls as she eyes the square of paper on the table, and she doesn’t even reach to pick it up for a closer look.

“You are unbelievable.”

There’s a small part of Poppy that withers and dies in an instant at the tone in which that sentence had been uttered. A minuscule scrap of dwindling hope that maybe she would have been happy. Maybe her mom would have overlooked the outdated ideals that she has tried for so long to impose on the rest of the family and just be happy for her daughter.

But she should have known better.

“You aren’t married, Poppy, how many times have I drilled into you how important it is that these kind of things are done right?” She shoulders the blow, the implication that anything about this is wrong incessantly plucking at her nerve. “Could you be any more belligerent? Are you doing this just to spite me?”

“To spite you?” Poppy scoffs, “Yeah, I’m changing the entire course of my life and future because I thought it would be funny to annoy you. My God you’re so narrow minded-,”

“You watch your tone with me when we have guests, Poppy.” Her voice is raised as she scolds her daughter, and it takes Poppy back through the years - being lectured about her grades, about her friends, her clothes, her weight, her career. Nothing she has ever done has appeased her. Even giving her another grandchild, bringing life into the world and trying to prove herself - it’s never enough.

“He’s my guest! He’s mine.” She doesn’t care that it’s petulantly possessive. She’s had enough. She isn’t going to let her mom use Nico of all people as a tool to silence or embarrass her. “And he’s had to stand around all day and listen to you all drop petty little digs while he tries his best to impress you! But you’re all so ignorant and rude, and none of you have even attempted to get to know a single thing about him! I don’t know why I even bothered bringing him here, or sharing what is supposed to be the greatest news of my life with you guys, because all any of you do is judge and shame people, and I won’t let you do that to us.

“We’re having this baby, and we might not be married, we might not ever even get married, but we make each other happy, and we love each other, and I couldn’t care less about how it looks to anybody else.”

She snatches the photo from the table, and turns to her brother with a pointed finger, unable to help herself before she spits, “And hockey pucks are made out of rubber, you fucking idiot.”

Her mother scoffs at the curse, but Poppy can’t find it in her to care as she storms out, ignoring the footsteps that follow as she stomps through the house towards her bedroom. 

“Don’t walk away from me, Poppy,” Priscilla calls out after her, quickening her steps to catch up before the inevitably infamous slamming of her bedroom door occurs. “I won’t have you behaving like this under my roof.”

“That’s fine, Nico and I are going to leave.”

“You’re doing little to disprove the fact that you’re immature, reacting like this,”

“You think I’m reacting poorly?” She stops in her tracks in the hallway, turning to face her mother with a heated glare. “Why do I always have to prove something to you in the first place? You couldn’t just support me, just this once? Be happy for me? You don’t think I need my mom right now to tell me that everything is going to be okay?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“And you’re being heartless and cruel.” She hates that she’s about to cry. Resents the tears that well on her lash line or the lump that forms at the back of her throat. “You know how long Nico and I have known each other, how close we are, how could you possibly say that what we’re doing is wrong?”

“You went on a date with someone else 2 months ago, Poppy! I’m not as stupid as you think I am, you can’t hide your mistakes and lie to me like some teenager anymore!”

“I’m not lying-,”

“You’re being irresponsible, and you can’t seriously stand there and try to convince me otherwise. Having a baby with a man you’ve barely even been dating for five minutes, who you don’t live with, who travels here, there and everywhere for work and can’t support you-,”

“You don’t know him.” Poppy snarls, “You’ve made absolutely no effort to get to know him. Not today, and not in the years that you’ve known he was in my life, so you don’t get to tell me what kind of man he is, or what kind of partner he’s going to be for me in this. And I don’t need to convince you of anything. If you can’t be happy for us, then you won’t be involved.”

And with that, she marches into her bedroom and slams the door behind her.

Her heart pounds against her ribcage, her breathing heavy as she paces the floor by her bed.

She had always known it would end up like this - in some almighty, entirely unnecessary bust up - but there could never have been enough preparing herself for just how much it hurts.

Her mother had berated her, her brother had bullied and belittled her, and her dad had sat there in a detached silence that probably was worse than saying anything in the first place. None of them were ever going to have her back, or ever going to be in her corner, and she should have known better - should have known from an entire lifetime of the same thing happening for all the other decisions she ever made for herself.

There had been a fight around her choice of college, her choice of career, her choice of living arrangements. Why would this have been any different?

So, as she finds herself stuck in the constant loop of condemnation and judgement, she starts to feel it manifest itself in her surroundings. In the walls of her bedroom she was never allowed to decorate, in the closet full of clothes she was never allowed to choose for herself, in the house full of people who pretended to care but didn’t, not really.

Except for Nico, who finds her repacking her overnight bag and stuffing it with a bunch of other things she doesn’t want to have to return for.

He watches silently as she whizzes around, perches himself on the edge of her bed, beside the bag, and waits for her to tire herself out a little before he asks, “Is there any chance that you’re adopted?”

She scoffs, stopping in front of him and running a frustrated hand through her hair in an attempt to calm herself down. “Nice try. Flattery won’t really help right now, Nico.” 

He reaches out to take her hand, tugging until she steps closer, and he parts his legs to accommodate for her body. “Are you okay?”

“We need to leave. I can’t sleep in a house with them all here, their rotten energy is gonna seep through the walls and suffocate me. I can’t expose Cheeto to that.”

“Poppy,” he chuckles, breathily, a soft and reassuring smile remaining on his lips as he looks up at her, “I don’t want you getting worked up over nothing-,”

“It isn’t nothing.” She frowns. “What my brother said about you, it was disrespectful and rude, I don’t like that he talked about you like that, he’s such a dick,” she groans, heat rising up her neck in morbid embarrassment at her family’s behaviour. “Calling you a meathead? And he says I’m the childish one?”

“I’ve been called much worse, Mohn, trust me.”

“Yeah, well, none of it is true.” She steps a little closer, her knee knocking against his thigh, “He wishes he had even an iota of your emotional intelligence, but his head is stuck so far up his own ass that his disgusting hair sticks out of his nostrils.” Nico smiles wider, and she reaches to cup his cheeks, hoping to pass her sincerity through the touch. “I think the world of you, Nico, you know that, right? There isn’t another man on the planet I’d rather have this baby with.”

“Of course I know that,” he tilts his head in her hands, smiling teasingly as he reminds her, “I’m yours, remember? I don’t care what anybody else thinks, it’s you and me, yeah?”

She nods, heart warming at the earnestness in his gaze. 

“The unmarried mommy and the meathead. We should get t-shirts made.”

She swats at his shoulder, snorting out a giggling laugh that clouds the corners of her eyes. “That’s not funny.”

“It is.” He affirms with another nod, placing his hands on either sides of her hips to hold her in front of him. “He was wrong about you too, you know. You were ready to drop gloves for both of us.” His palm caresses the slight swelling of her baby - the beginnings of her pouch, “You’re protective of the people you love, and you’re loyal, and you care. Our baby couldn’t be more lucky to have you as their mommy.”

Before the tears that line her eyes can fall, she scrunches them shut - and with darkened vision and a will to clear her mind of the million racing thoughts, she leans forward and kisses him.

It isn’t the passionate, all-consuming kiss like they had shared before. It isn’t steamy, isn’t sloppy or rushed. It’s gentle. It’s familiar. It’s brief, but intimate and impactful all the same, and he juts his chin until his lips press firmly into the touch of hers.

And when they part of equal volition, her eyes flutter open slowly to his doing the same.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair,” she breathes into the small space between them, “I shouldn’t just plant one on you when I told you that we shouldn’t-,”

“It’s okay,” he interrupts, voice slightly hoarse. “You can plant one on me any time.”

She breaks into a slow smile, one that ends up so big and so bright that her jaw aches slightly, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, collapsing into a hug where she squeezes around him. He holds her back, hands rubbing up and down her sides until he can feel her relax and melt into his touch.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” He whispers into the side of her head. “In the middle of an argument?”

“It isn’t gonna get resolved, there’s no point waiting around,” she sighs, pulling back a little so that she can see him again. “Plus, we’re gonna need to go looking for a Drive-Thru or something, I’m starving.”

“What are you hungry for?”

“I’ll know when I see it.”

“Poppy,” he chuckles, standing as soon as she steps back and reaching for the bag she had packed. “You’re gonna pass out as soon as we get to the bottom of the driveway.”

“Am not,” she pouts, the two of them making their way towards her bedroom door. “I’m so amped up right now, I could take on a bear. I won’t be sleeping all night.”

Poppy wakes with the shutting off of the car, the soft hum of the engine beneath her ceasing the vibrations that had lulled her to sleep in the first place, and she blinks away her confusion to look at Nico across the centre console.

He’s leaning against his seat, angling his body to face her directly, and he smiles softly as her eyes focus on his.

“We drove past that bear you wanted to fight about half an hour ago.”

“You should have woke me,” she croaks, breaking eye contact to look past him out the driver’s side window. “This isn’t a Drive-Thru.”

“No, I thought you might have worked up a bigger appetite in the big Jensen family smackdown.”

“Hilarious,” she yawns, arching her back to stretch it out as she leans toward the windshield, getting a better look at where they are. “Is this Rosie’s?”

Rosie’s diner had always been a hotspot for the two of them whenever he drove her home from The Rock, slotted just by Lincoln Park, and perfect for a post-game catch up late into the night, Poppy and Nico had spent one too many evenings ignoring the passing of time in a corner booth, a basket of fries between them and a thousand secrets shared.

She hasn’t been back here in a while.

“You’ve been eating sweet stuff all day, figured you’d be alright with pancakes.”

“You’re good at that, huh?” She smiles, “Knowing what I want?”

“I’m great at it.” He brags, unclipping his seat belt. “Wait here, I’m gonna check if the kitchen’s open.”

And he’s gone before she has a chance to question him. Why wouldn’t it be open? It’s a late night diner.

The car is too warm for her to care though - a cosy kind of heat, that almost has her lulling her head back into slumber before the car door is yanked back open beside her.

“So I kind of wanted to surprise you,” Nico says, slight urgency in his tone as he reaches over her lap to unclip her belt, “But I realised just now that I don’t want you to feel like I was blindsiding you with this.”

“With what?” She shuffles until her legs hang out of the car, looking up at him.

“I know that you kind of expected things not to go well with your family, but I also know you, and that you probably hoped there would at least be one of them that was happy for you.”

“Your family was happy for me,” she shrugs, trying to ignore the pang of longing. It has to be enough, she thinks, otherwise the hurt she’s feeling will just snowball into something worse. 

“Well you deserve more. And I happen to know a few more people in your family who might give you the reaction you’re looking for,”

“My cousin?”

“Where would I have found your cousin?”

“That’s my only other family?”

“No it isn’t,” he chuckles, extending a hand to help her out of the car and tucking her into his side when she’s stood on the sidewalk. He nudges the door closed behind her and locks it with the key in his pocket, guiding her towards Rosie’s with an arm around her shoulder. “Cheeto has a whole bunch of uncles who you’re not gonna be able to hide that little pouch from for much longer.”

“The guys are here?” She gasps, her face lighting up as she angles it to look up at him and stops in her tracks. “We’re gonna tell them?”

“Only if you want to.”

She nods, smiling so big she’s about to bare teeth, and he takes her hand to pull her toward the entrance.

“There she is!” Jack exclaims when the two of them make it into the diner, standing from his spot in one of the booths and extending his arms out in a boisterous greeting.

Nico has somehow managed to round up a good chunk of the guys, the diner otherwise empty as they take up two booths, with a few of them standing between. There’s Jack and Luke, Timo, Johnny, Dawson, Holtzy, Jesper, Nemo, Jonas and Bass, and Poppy doesn’t even feel intimidated by the rowdy bunch as she and Nico make their way over. 

She feels comfortable, like she should have felt around her actual family, at ease and somewhat excited.

“Thank God, Luke was getting hangry, we told him he had to wait until you guys got here to order.”

“Luke, it’s past 10pm, how can you be hungry at this time?” Poppy questions, standing beside Nico once they get over to the booths. She at least had a valid excuse - growing human life within her and being neglected by her own mother’s portion sizes at family dinner.

“This is prime snack time, Poppy, I usually have a grilled cheese before bed.”

“You’re not supposed to eat cheese before you sleep, Luke, it gives you nightmares.”

“Wow, okay, mom, did you call us out here just to impart your almighty cheese wisdom?”

“Cut it out,” Timo reaches over to smack Luke lightly upside the head, sending Poppy a proud, encouraging smile as she just chuckles in response. 

“I called you all out,” Nico puffs his chest a little, taking a deep breath as if preparing himself, “We have something we want to tell you guys.”

“Can you tell us after we order? I’m starving,” and when Luke ducks out of the way from Timo’s extended arm, Jack reaches across the table and swats him, himself. “Oh, come on, we all know they’re just gonna tell us they’re finally together! They can do that once I’ve got a burger or something.”

“That isn’t what we want to tell you,” Nico rolls his eyes affectionately, pulling Poppy into his side for comfort, where her lips twist in amusement at the scene before her.

“You’re not together?” Jack frowns, looking between them. 

“We’re figuring it out-,” Poppy shrugs, at the same time Nico responds.

“We’re working on it.” 

“Jesus,” Luke mutters, shielding himself from the onslaught of hands that reach out to smack his head. “Why are you all hitting me? They’re the ones who called us out here in the dead of night to tell us something we’ve all known for months. Next thing Dougie will be calling a press conference to tell the world he’s ginger. I don’t see anyone smacking either of them upside the head.”

“Well we can’t hit Schao ‘cause he’s our captain,” Jack explains.

“And you can’t hit me ‘cause I’m-,”

“A girl, yeah whatever,” Luke huffs.

“Actually, you can’t hit me ‘cause I’m pregnant.” She gives a smug smile, reaching into her pocket for the now-worn scan picture.

“And I’d hit you back.” Nico scowls playfully, watching their jaws drop in turn like a Mexican wave.

The guys all shoot up from their seats in unison, scrambling out of the booths to swarm the two of them, crowding around to get a look at the picture, a chorus of questions shouting out that fill the diner with a rambunctious echo.

The only thing Poppy can make out is Jack’s cries of Baby Schao, Timo’s bragging of I knew first and John and Nate’s childish singing of Poppy and Nico sitting in a tree. 

She feels her heart swell to four times its regular size.

She feels giddy, and proud, and loved.

“Alright,” Nico calls from beside her, bringing the rowdy bunch of men to silence, “Let her sit, then you can bombard her with your questions.”

She slides in a booth between the two brothers, and Nico slides in across from her between Timo and Jesper. The rest of the guys lean over from the booths at either side, leaving a couple of them standing in the aisle beside the table.

And as she looks over at Nico through teary eyes from her space across the booth, a smile so big it aches carved into her cheeks, their calves tangling under the table, the sonogram of their baby resting between them on the top, and surrounded by their found-family, she feels a kind of happiness she doesn’t think she ever has before.

He had assured her earlier that she could plant one on him any time, and she thinks that she might just have to start taking him up on that. 

Next Chapter

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

[hephslacker]

Ena: The details you might have missed in the Trailer

I'm unsure if anyone has pointed this things out before, so this is just a fun little post I made!

This is mostly me talking about some interesting details I have noticed in the trailer and my analysis of them.

> I'm pretty sure that at this point most have heard of the Hands Theory, as well as with the Theory that Meanie, between the two sides, is the more genuine one. That being one of the reasons as to why she usually uses her right side for interacting with things that are more of a personal interest to her.

Following that tho, have you noticed that in the trailer Ena's "Meanie" side is the one who's pulling the trigger?

And sure, it could be argued that her Red side doesn't really have any means of pressing the firing the gun, but it still seems interesting. That is not to mention that in ENA, be it the series or the game, nothing has really been the way it is "just because".

Notably, throughout the game Meanie is the one who's speaking when it comes to any military related stuff. She's the one who's reacting to the accusations (or even most personal things, she's the one to give a more "personal" and "honest" opinion). She's also the one who's speaking when Ena gets to the Bathroom, and most of the hatred to the things around her or her self-deprecation is also voiced by Meanie. Humanoid Ena also seems to posses more of right side colouring, and it might not be just due to that colour looking more "natural".

Salesman is also more likely to try and talk things through (negotiate), while Meanie is the one who's ready to get things done, even if it means getting physical.

> Another interesting detail is that in the trailer we can actually see the right side having an 'index finger'. I doubt it was a mistake on the animators' part.

> Everyone knows that the world of ENA possesses many references - or outright includes - technology, codes, programmes etc. Have you noticed the fact that this location, and the creature inhabiting it, consists out of the keyboard buttons/keyboards?

Another appearance of the technology can be seen here behind Ena, and it seems to strongly resemble some sort of a camera.

> And finally, I find it interesting that, right after we are shown Green Ena, we get this phrase:

"Let's put that dead meat in its place!"

Before the frame switches to Ena and the Unknown Entity, who points the gun on her.

So we are basically shown Ena in a dead-like-state, before someone (probably Froggy) says "put that DEAD meat [...]", and that scene also follows up by Ena being held at a gun point. So is Ena the "dead meat"?

And what's more, you know who was the only other character called that? The Boss

> Multiple people have already pointed it out, but the Unknown Entity looks a lot like Froggy.

If you look at this frame, you'd notice that that looks a lot like the position Ena herself has been in at the End of Chapter 1.

More about Froggy Theory you can read in this post by @simple228

> The Entity also seems to have the same “vines” or “branches” growing out of him as Ena did in the Purge Event

> I've noticed that in this scene Ena seems to have the same orange glow on her lips? I wonder if it's got anything to do with the constant references to hunger and eating in the world of DBBQ? Her eyes also seem to be a brighter purple, which could either simply be to make the picture more enthralling, or it could mean that she's under some kind of an influence.

Interestingly, throughout the game we have only 2 characters that I can remember that reference any kind of cutlery. That being Spatulady and this Unknown Entity (a parasite?).

These details paint an interesting picture when you combine them, no?

> Flowers symbolism!

I think I have covered everything I had to say about the trailer so far! What are your thoughts?

[absolutebl]

10 BLs That Shook Me

@trribledelight asked for "BLs that made you think or learn smthg or shook you culturally? Eg the political considerations in Not Me..."

Let's get the rough ones out of the way first, shall we?

1 2gether

Green. One of the most egregious reps for punching down humor against femmes in BL (and there sure are a lot out there). Seriously GMMTV? Must you?

At the time we all watched this because there wasn't anything else to watch, and it's been a long time since I bothered with a rewatch, but Green is one of the reasons I just can't with this series.

I'm not knocking the actor, but the character and how the other characters behave around him, and the director with regard to this aspect of the plot and portrayal was rough going.

What shook me was how casually homophobic 2g was. It was just so odd to watch a gay romance gloss over and degrade queerness. I was like, wait, aren't they supposed to me on our side?

(Ah, the before times.)

2 Fish Upon the Sky

Shall we address the head wrap in the room? This BL has some of the most shockingly racist content I've seen in a long time. Also punching down humor. I fast forwarded through it and I still don't want to think about it. GMMTV should be throughly ashamed of themselves... Again. I was shook, but in a bad way.

Okay, now for the ones that shook me in a good way.

3 Until We Meet Again

I watched this early in my Thai BL journey (while it was airing) and I had no idea what to expect. Frankly, you could watch it now and still not know. It's just very unusual for a Thai BL.

The plot twist about how they each ended up reborn. Just so brilliant. I still can't get over it. So simple. SO CLEVER. So punishing for the families.

Fantastic!

4 Secret Crush On You

This one kinda shook me all along but that Daisy & Touch scene. It lives on in my head rent free forever. Just because it was so beautifully sweet and genuine and kindly towards a femme character.

I still don't like this BL.

But I love that scene in it.

5 My Beautiful Man

I went on a JOURNEY with this show. Mostly because I didn't think Japan had it in them to land something this complex. But they managed it beautifully by not shying away from the delicious messy ugliness of it all.

Possibly the greatest final episode in all BL.

And from Japan. Usually so bad at endings.

I remain gobsmacked.

6 Unknown

I shouldn't have been shooketh by this one but I really was.

The style of it while staying so down home and gritty.

How old school Chinese BL it felt yet it still managed to be very modern BL about it.

The execution and quality of the acting.

How it was aired (available in YouTube?! we NEVER get that from Taiwan!)

Also the pair branding. We haven't gotten this level of pair brand from the leads in a Taiwanese BL since SamYu.

I'm was absolutely riveted by everything about this show and its production.

I loved seeing it. I hope we get more BLs like this from Taiwan as a result.

But I ALSO hope they realize that a big factor in the popularity and the success of this show was in distribution.

It's what's for dinner.

Along with the stepbrother trope.

KOREA'S SUPRISES

I watch a lot of Kdramas as well as BL, and have done for a really long time. I'm riveted by Hallyu, from an entertainment industry perspective (what I wouldn't do to get my hands on some of their proprietary data). I also listen to a ton of Kpop.

Therefore, Korea dominates the P'ABL gets shooketh list because I had (and have) more expectations firmly in place around Korea's media product sfyle than anyone elses. Even before they started to make a big play into the BL scene.

My favorite BLs from Korea, like Semantic Error and Light on Me are EXACTLY what I expect from them, manufactured perfection. But I was also shook more times by Korea than other BL nations because I had such rigid expectations.

7 Color Rush

Yeah yeah. But it starred an idol. It started out pretty and stiff and everything I was expecting and then the concept hit me up side the head and I never recovered from the CLEVER of this show. I'm not used to my Kdramas or my BL being this high concept and SMART about their sanitized perfection.

8 Blueming

What with the 8th Sense and others since, Blueming seems to have been somewhat forgotten about. But at the time, I was shook by the down home grit of this show. By the actual pain from the characters. By the higher heat concept. By Korea actually going THERE.

And then these babies came along...

9 The 8th Sense

I just didn't think Korea had it in them. Yes, I realize now that it was a bit navel gazey, and we were weighted heavily towards the seme and his pain. I would have liked a better balance between the leads, but that's in retrospect.

At the time I couldn't believe it. A KBL dealing with mental health?

And can we talk about those sex scenes? How insanely comfortable the actors were with each other? How easy in each other's personal space? I've not seen anything else quite like that from Korea. It's super rare. I had assumed they, culturally, just didn't do casual intimacy, or if they did, it wasn't allowed on screen.

Of course now I know the CAN do it, I want more.

10 Love for Love's Sake

Okay, lots to unpack with this one. A genuine isakai BL, in the original sense of the term. The death twist didn't shake me up, but the execution, acting, open gayness, and a couple other things did. Enough to make me still think on this show with fond surprise and affection, despite its undercurrent of darkness.

I like to be shooketh.

(source)

[evergreenlake]

And Fate was on His Side

Chapter 1

1.1k words

tw: mentions of cheating and hook ups, violence, guns and terrorism (please let me know if I have forgotten anything)

Price x F!Reader, Secret Baby Trope

an: Okay this is just a small note before the chapter starts. I just wanted to warn everyone that this is my first fic, so any of my descriptions of violence may suck lol. And since I don't really have a beta reader this was just barely edited by me and Grammarly lol. But a warning for the future some characters may seem ooc since I do not have much practice writing for them. Anyways that's all I hope you all enjoy.

series masterlist

next chapter

Most people who have been in a relationship for multiple years think that they'll last forever. Unfortunately, that does not always happen. And y/n is one of the unlucky ones. Her boyfriend of five years slept with his boss's wife. So she broke up with him and decided to travel abroad finally.

She decided to head to England as she'd always been curious about it. When she was out and about on her sightseeing she found out about this bar everyone was raving about. So she decided that after everything that happened back in the States, she deserved a drink. While at the bar she met the most attractive man she's ever seen. They ended up chatting for a while and she decided to finally get out of her comfort zone for once. So they ended up hooking up and the man was gone the next morning. Y/n ended up leaving London the next day.

About 2 months later, she finds out about the twins. The young woman decided to keep them, as she didn't have any plans for future relationships. And she also has always wanted to have kids, so 9 months later she ends up having a boy and a girl. Their names are Daniel, or Danny as his nickname, and the girl was named Mia.

Now Y/n did end up raising the twins alone, along with the help of her friends and family. Well, she did it alone for 16 years, until the day fate brought her and Captain John Price back together.

"Danny come on! You're gonna make us late. Mom has already got the car started. " Mia was standing at the bottom of the stairs as she yelled for her twin brother. Their mutual friend's birthday was today. Shay wanted to spend it at the mall with the twins and some other people.

Danny was taking forever to get ready, his twin thought it was cause he didn't want to go. In reality, he just has a crush on Shay and wants to make sure he looks good. He sighs as he finally stops messing with his hair and quickly comes down the stairs.

Mia was waiting at the door impatiently with a small frown. She was all bundled up in her winter coat with a beanie and her gloves. It was early winter, so the temperature was freezing. Once Danny finally got his coat on they hurried to the car.

Laughing Mia beat him to the front seat and he grumbled getting in the back. Y/n watches the twins with a small smile, she shakes her head with a huff before she asks " Are you two finally ready to go? Shay might be there already. " The twins just groaned before she put the car in drive, and then they were on their way to the mall.

It didn't take long for them to get there, and as soon as their mother had parked. The twins jumped out of the car and were hurrying towards the front of the mall. Back in the car, Y/n sighs, she grabs her purse before she quickly follows after them.

The twins were talking with Shay and the other two people that were there. Standing to the side was Shay's mother. Y/n happened to be close to Grace so she decided to help watch after the 5 teens.

Grace sent Y/n a cheeky smile before she grabbed her arm. " Can't wait to feel so old following them around. I have no clue what they have planned but apparently, they've made a list of places they want to go. I've told Shay we would just follow them around. " Y/n smiles a little before looking at the group of five and she hums a little. " I don't expect anything too wild out of them. Though I do think they may spend a ton of time at the arcade." She let out a small laugh and both of the women started following the kids into the mall.

And just like what was predicted the first place they stopped was the arcade. Shay and Daniel would split off from Mia and the other two. Grace and Y/n shared a small smirk as they watched them.

The adults would wait by the front of the arcade for them. Just gossiping about everyday things, mostly what their teens were up to. At one point Mia came back and just sat next to her mom quietly. She was quite the book nerd, she brought The Hunger Games with her so she could finish her third read-through.

After some time of the teens playing games, they came back over. All of them were now ready to move on to another store. As the group was leaving the arcade a loud explosion shook the building. Chaos was now what the mall atmosphere was like. People were running, others were getting under doorways.

The teenagers had looked to the adults scared, and unsure of what to do. Grace and y/n looked at each other before they started trying to herd the kids through the crowd and to the exit. And not even five minutes later they could hear gunshots. Shay and Mia immediately started screaming. Daniel quickly grabbed onto both of them and followed after the other two teens. While the five of them headed towards a store the adults were right behind them.

As the group was almost to the store, a group of masked men came around the corner. They looked like they were in some kind of tactical gear. Y/n's eyes had widened as she saw them and as soon as they lifted their guns she pushed Grace towards the children. Daniel had turned back as he heard Grace cry out a little. And he was immediately screaming his mother's name as he watched a bullet enter her shoulder.

The woman stumbles into the store as Daniel makes his way back to her. The employees of the store were motioning people to head towards the back room. Grace and her daughter quickly made their way there with the other two teens. Mia turned around and headed toward her mother and Daniel. The three of them barely made it to the register before the men were in the front of the store.

The family of three were now hiding behind the counter. This is because as soon as the employees had seen the group of men outside the store, they rushed into the backroom and shut the door. So the three of them were stuck behind the counter until either the men found them, or someone came to save the day. Little did anyone know, a group was on their way. This group had experience with dealing with a terrorist group like this.

Task Force 141 was on their way to take out the terrorists that were now wreaking havoc upon the mall.

Taglist:

@miss-vanta-likes-to-write @galactict3a

[tumbling-through-deepspace]

Summer heat

Breaking the fourth wall series. Previous >>> next

This was inspired by Zayne's secret time: Silent poem. It's a bit of self-indulgence after coming off my episode. I've had Zayne on my mind a lot these past few days.

Genre: fluff.

Warning: slightly suggestive, mutual pining, lots of kissing.

It has been several days since the start of the summer vacation in her world, and Bree was enjoying the peace and quiet.

Bon-bon was swept away by her siblings for a week, who made an excuse about her working too hard, and their niece needed to be around the energetic bunch. The house was clean and quiet, so this was an opportunity to unwind.

It was weird not having her toddler around, having nothing much to do. She also hadn't heard from the trio for a while. One afternoon, a few weeks ago, Mephisto delivered a message from Lyssa stating she'll be away on a few missions that would have her unavailable. Sylus had business deals out the country that couldn't be missed, and Zayne had a full schedule with surgeries.

They asked that while they were away that she would not access the game. It was a request she understood; after all, accessing the game popped them away from whatever they were doing and would return them after she left. It caused confusion amongst the other game characters.

She missed them... Lyssa's chaotic energy, Sylus's teasing, and Zayne's calming presence, especially his voice. Maybe it was a good thing the three were busy because she currently had a sprained ankle from slipping in the bathroom whilst cleaning the day before.

They would make a fuss. Bree smiled, thinking about their overprotectiveness. Stretching, she got up from the couch and made her way into her bedroom. A nap sounded nice at the moment.

Zayne exited Akso hospital two hours prior, went shopping and almost ran every red light to get home.

He managed to finish all appointed surgeries and had the next three days off. Any emergencies would be redirected to either Dr. Grayson or Dr. Joel.

Entering his home, Zayne quickly set the necessary alarms, grabbed his bags, and activated the portal. He didn't bother to change.

A glowing, rectangular door appeared, which he stepped through without hesitation. Coming out on the other side, the scent of cinnamon filled his nostrils, and the warmth from the summer air was a welcomed change from Linkon's cold November winds.

The portal deactived as he stepped further into the space, his eyes looking around searching for the woman that's been on this mind for weeks.

The large calendar marked Saturday, the grandfather clock showcasing late afternoon, her cellphone laying idly on the coffee table; she had to be close. It was a possibility she was asleep.

Abandoning the bags on the kitchen table, Zayne made his way down the hall to where her bedroom was. The creaking sound of the door as he opened it was overlapped by the sound of Bree's small snores.

His eyes landed on her sleeping form, heartbeat accelerating as he took in how peaceful she looked. Being away from her for so long left him agitated, making the weeks painstaking despite him being busy.

Walking closer, he leaned down, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. His lips moved to place more kisses along her face; her eyes, the tip of the nose, cheeks and finally her lips.

She shifted, letting out a sigh. Pulling back, he watched as her eyes fluttered open, squinting a bit before blinking to clear her vision.

"My apologies, did I wake you up?"

"Zayne? I must be dreaming again."

He chuckled, "You've been dreaming about me? I'm flattered, but no, sweetheart, I'm very much real."

"Prove it."

Zayne chuckled again and proceeded to take off his shoes, jacket, and tie before sitting on the bed and pulling her unto his lap.

He then proceeded to kiss her like a man dying of thirst and she was the drink of water. Her small moans urged his on.

"This helps to chase away my exhaustion. Having you like this, hearing your voice. You have no idea how much I've missed you."

The kisses traveled along her neck, accompanied by bites and his tongue.

She let out a shaky breath. "Z-ayne, I-"

Pulling away, he took in her expression of bliss. Swollen lips, labored breathing. She was so beautiful like this. How did he survive so long being away?

"Is that proof enough, or should I keep going?"

Bree attacked his mouth with more kisses, running a hand through his hair, whilst the other gripped the front of his shirt.

Zayne switched their position until he was hovered over her, arms at the side of her head. Her leg wrapped around his hip, drawing him closer.

More kisses were exchanged, each one deeper than the last.

Zayne moved to grab her other leg, but when his hand touched bandages, he pulled away and immediately looked down.

"I leave you alone for a bit, and you go and get yourself injured."

Bree laughed. "It wasn't intentional doctor, blame my clumsiness and the bathroom I was cleaning yesterday."

He gently stroked her leg. "Are you in pain? I hope I didn't cause any discomfort."

She gave him a smile. "I'm fine, Zayne. It's just a sprain. Now stop worrying and come relax. Now that I'm getting a good look at you, you need a nap. When was the last time you had proper sleep?"

Zayne gave her side a small pinch, prompting her to giggle.

"Don't try to change the subject, sweetheart. Be careful next time. As for me, I'll sleep later. I'm yours for the next three days, so i'll get plenty of rest."

A sly smile graced her lips. "With the way you've greeted me, I doubt we'll get much sleep in the coming days."

The sudden feel of his cool hands under her sleep shirt, running along her sides, made her breath hitch.

She saw the heat in his eyes, the tone of his voice going lower as his lips were hovered over hers

"I'm wide awake and thinking about one way to get rid of some of this pentup energy I know we both have."

His words had her squirming in his hold. Zayne stopped her by grabbing her hips.

"You're being unfair."

"No. Kiss. I'm. Kiss. Just. Kiss. Taking. Kiss. Advantage. Kiss. Of the. Kiss. Opportunity given."

His kisses always left her breathless, she just wanted to hold him and never let go.

"I've missed you, Zaynie," she whispered

Zayne replied in kind, "I've missed you more. Let me show you how much."

[twig-tea]

GL odds and ends 29 December 2024

The end of the year kicked my ass, but I wanted to get one last one of these out for 2024! The last one before this was 10 November. If you're interested in GL older than that, check out my GL rec list through Feb 2024 and my #gl recs tag for the other odds and ends posts. New series marked with an asterisk*.

Currently airing (with thoughts up to 29 Dec):

The Fragrance You inherit 5/8 (Japanese, Friday/Saturday-ish, no official distribution but fansub on @isaksbestpillow's blog [thank you Siiri!] I have been really enjoying this show and have been writing when I have time (last post was for ep4). At its core this is a gentle show about kind people who love each other doing their best, which is always my favourite thing. Subs are on pause for the moment so you have time to catch up before the finale!

Pluto ep 11/12 (Thai, Saturdays 9:30 AM ET, YouTube) This plot continues to be absolutely wild. There's a lot of discourse around Oom this week, to which I'll just say: Setting a test to see if the people you love will hurt themselves in order to make you feel better is not loving or healthy behaviour, even if your motivations are understandable and sympathetic. Namtan is doing a great job making these twins feel like different people, and she and Film are still gorgeous together. And I have no idea what's up with the messy lesbian sides, but I'm on the side of all of them need a time out! I've been pretty dialed out of this show because it's not my thing, so I'm not that invested in any of the relationships going into the finale, but it's been a wild ride and it seems to be holding together for those who enjoy the high drama of this plot.

*Petrichor ep 5/10 (Thai, Saturdays, 10:00 AM ET, iQIYI) The procedural aspects of this show are unfortunately not well executed, but Engfa and Charlotte have fantastic chemistry. I'm also really loving seeing Na and Max again even though I am very worried about getting too attached to their characters. It's always hard for me when a show is about a police officer trying to do good work in a corrupt system because the only takeaway I can accept is that that is not possible lol but I'm enjoying seeing these two on my screen every week (except this week, because we sadly did not get a new episode today).

*Mate, 6/12 (Thai, Tuesdays, WeTV (uncut version)) This one is hard to describe. It seems to be trying to do for trauma in a GL what Love in the Air and Bed Friend did in BL--show a realistic depiction of trauma in one of their characters and have them fall in love, and be taken care of and healed that way. But that also makes it extremely hard to watch. The trauma flashbacks and trauma responses is rough. The main character is not very likeable but that's kinda the point, I'm not minding that part of it so much. There are a lot of things I like about this show, so I don't want to discourage views. Just go into this one informed, and make the decision that's right for you.

*INTP 1/? (Korean, Fridays (?), YouTube) This is the latest short series from RedQ, who produced some of my favourite GL short series including More than or equal to 75 degrees C, and To the Ex who Hated Me. No info on how long it will be or if it will be weekly, so that Fridays release schedule is a total guess. The setup of this one reminded me of Semantic Error if SangWoo realized he was attracted to JaeYoung at their first group assignment meeting.

Recently Completed:

Apple My Love 6.5 50-min eps (Thai, Oct 12-Nov 16, GagaOOLala and YouTube) I ended up feeling like this one bit off a bit more than it could chew, as much fun as I had with it, it was a wobbly landing. I was ok with the ending at the end but I spent a lot of time watching the finale uncertain about how I felt about all of it. There's a 30 min "episode 5.1" that is an important bridge between episodes 5 and 6 (and also includes a 10-min fingering scene, thank you show) that I think resulted from either poor pacing or realizing they needed to set up the episode better? It was odd but something to make sure not to skip. The show does a lot of what I love about Kongthup's latest BLs: it avoids the worst drama pitfalls and calls them out in the show itself when it uses them, and it is largely about being kind to its characters who are figuring themselves out. Warning for extremely hard to watch secondhand embarrassment in the first couple of episodes lol Kris is such a cringefail lesbian I love her. With the caveats above, if you don't mind secondhand embarrassment and want a comedy GL and are willing to be a little patient with the ending, give this one a try!

The Loyal Pin 16 65-min eps (Thai, Aug 4-Dec 1, YouTube) Anin was the bravest right through to the end. I really liked a lot of this show, but I found the pacing a bit uneven and the finale a little rough. It's hard, because I actually am happy with the way the show ended--it makes perfect sense and was where I was hoping they would get to the entire show. What I didn't like was how we got there. It seemed wild that Pin and Anin didn't at least talk about this possibility before we got there; and didn't feel like we ever resolved the disparity between the two leads, though the show was aware of it the whole time which I did like. And you may have seen the shouting about the prank in the finale, it was in really poor taste. In the end, this show was beautiful, gave a platform for promoting Thai culture (food, clothing, history), and had excellent intimacy. I really enjoyed the slow burn between Anin and Pin, and I loved that every character had and used the agency they had, but that the show was realistic about what was in and outside of their control. If you want a slow-burn and high-heat romance and are willing to be a little frustrated for the sake of the drama, and/or you really like a pigtail-pulling romantic dynamic, you should watch this show.

Red Whisper 8 10-min eps (Korea, Oct 2-Nov 11, YouTube) Honestly this show never got better after what I wrote about it a month ago about how its portrayal of bisexuality and nonmonogamy was upsetting. For the record one last time: Not all bisexuals are nonmonogamous, and entering a monogamous relationship under false pretenses and then acting like your partner is being unreasonable by not wanting an open relationship is shitty behaviour. This one is sadly not recommended.

The Nipple Talk 10 30-min eps (Taiwanese, Nov 8-22, GagaOOLala) I highly recommended the first half, and so I am so sad to say that I can't say the same for the second half of the show. I was really enjoying how much the show seemed to support a mix of monogamy and nonmonogamy, but the second half of the show leaned heavily into 'everyone wants a monogamous relationship when they meet the right person', which disappointed me. The show also tried to introduce some themes that felt very dated in terms of how they handled them (e.g. HIV) and I ended up just not really liking the Pony character as a person by the end. The lesbian relationship was super messy in a way that I did not find fun too. Mama was the best part of this show, and I hope we get more characters like them in future (better) shows!

*Soul Sisters 24 12-min eps (Chinese, iQIYI) This entire show dropped this week so I binged it in one go. The basic setup is a GL version of Meet You At the Blossom, except the gender fuckery lasts for most of the series and they don't actually ever get to kiss. I loved this little show; it is a frenetic, very silly and censored comedy, so calibrate your expectations accordingly. But it walks the line in a way that is palatable (or was for me, anyway). Without giving too much away, it is an open happy ending. The caveats for this one are that there is no wasted tape, so the pacing is rollercoaster fast, and the cuts are sometimes jarring. But it's a surprisingly beautiful show for the budget, and I really appreciated all of the ways they came up with to give these women shippy moments. Also, good lord this main character is so competent, which is a major weakness of mine. I had a great time!

*Whisper Me a Love Song 12 25-min eps (Japanese anime, Apr-27 Dec, HiDive) This started airing in April but there was a delay and the last episode didn't air until yesterday. High school lesbians in a band having embarrassing confused and misunderstood feelings all over the place (with good endings including a kiss for at least one of our couples). I appreciate that this anime is not playing with the 'are they friends who joke about wanting to touch each other's boobs or are they more' line, they outright say they want to be more than friends and then kiss. The music is good too! Recommended if you are feeling like a high school dramedy with good tunes that stays pretty light and is in the 'bubble'.

Recent One-offs, Side Couples, etc.:

My Hot Butch Roommate (actually a 2-parter) aired on bilibili 1, 2) and was subtitled by @douqi7s on YouTube (1, 2) These two are very cute, and this little short does a ton with the very tiny 5 minutes of total runtime it uses. Give the original bilibili uploads a stream so they get views, even if you watch the YT subbed version!

Fufuknows put out a new lesbian short titled The Choices of Two Lesbian Couples in Love on YouTube This was a great short (11 min) film featuring the story of two couples at different stages in their relationship, and the different choices they make about their futures. I really enjoy Fufuknows as queer short filmmakers, and I appreciate that they regularly include lesbian and wlw content in their bi-weekly (as in, every other week) fictional shorts that they produce and release. This one is recommended!

Aim's Lesbian plotline in the new Love Sick 2024 remake concluded (this was not a plotline in the 2014 version and it's one of the changes I really like and that I think works really well) Spoiler: she doesn't get a romance happy ending but her story ends with acceptance from her friends about who she is, which was lovely to watch

There was a brief of-the-week lesbian couple who wanted to marry in Spare Me Your Mercy Spoiler: their story is tragic, which is par for the course in a murder mystery

I am suspecting wlw sides in See Your Love I may end up eating these words but I was getting vibes, and so I'm putting this out in the universe now in hopes I'm right lol

There is a new Korean shorts production company on YouTube called Lovememory (Their first BL ep is out and the GL, First Love, has a trailer)

Mom Ped Sawan started airing but I don't have a source so I can't give any info or links unfortunately. If anyone knows of a subtitled source for this show, please let me know!

My Ex's Wedding came out in Thai theatres waiting for an international source for this too

Korean short film What's In my Bag was uploaded to Matchbox I haven't seen it yet but the trailer is on YouTube if anyone is curious! The film is available now for a small fee on Vimeo (runtime 12 mins).

Sastra film app YouTube channel has several short Cambodian GL series that come out weekly Honestly they are not to my taste but I don't like gatekeeping GL especially from smaller markets. I check in on these time to time and if there are any that I think are great I'll give them a shout-out

Ditto above with JPC media YouTube channel for Thai GL shorts if there are any that stand out to me I'll say so; that being said I haven't had time recently so if I've missed anything good let me know!

Starting soon:

Us the series, Thai, 18 January 2025, most likely YouTube (as this is a GMMTV show) Caveat that this date is a rumour, see comments

Fragrance of the First Flower s2, Taiwanese, 18 February 2025, GagaOOLala ok this isn't that soon but I'm just so excited we're getting this second season after all!

It is so, so nice that we have this much GL to keep track of, I can't complain! This covers a whole month of content and it was a month I was very distracted from my QL consumption so while I always welcome anyone pointing out stuff I missed, I would particularly appreciate it this round.

[mikethebrave]

guys, i have good news for once. i've found proof of intelligent life out here in these wastelands:

my favorite excerpts:

Will, Jonathan, and Joyce Formed a Special Trio

If Eleven is the main character in Stranger Things, the Byers family is the conduit through which she flickers. Will’s disappearance in the first season spurred the Hawkins community to rush to his aid. The tight-knit camaraderie between Will, Jonathan, and Joyce juxtaposes the stereotypical family composed of kids and teenagers. Parents and children are supposed to fight and bicker in television and other media, often to build the main conflict of the story, but the Byers family already underwent that trauma offscreen.  Lonnie Byers (Ross Partridge) makes a brief cameo in the first season, flexing his standoffish demeanor and abusive nature. It’s clear that the Byers patriarch doesn’t possess much empathy for his ex-wife or his sons. Jonathan valiantly steps into the father, husband, and big brother role, amalgamating into a combination of responsibilities that no other character on the show could dream of emulating. 

Jonathan Binds the Byers Family Together

Jonathan’s multifaceted arc in the first two seasons made him one of the series’ most easily dissectable characters. Stranger Things often differentiates itself from other shows by keeping the antagonists separate from the main characters. There are no Walter White or Tony Soprano-style antiheroes in which fans must compromise one part of their moral compass to appreciate the character. One might think this makes the series boring, but it’s the opposite. Jonathan was proof that a nearly perfect brother and son can still be fascinating to watch. After Will was found in season 1’s climax, he was taken over by the Mind Flayer in season 2. Jonathan again stood by Will’s side as his little brother felt outcasted by friends and society at large. Schnapp and Heaton’s chemistry often leads to tender, humorous exchanges like this one in which the boys remind the audience that being weird can be a human superpower in its own right.  These moments became few and far between in seasons 3 and 4. Will and Jonathan were relegated to minor supporting characters as the aforementioned new additions took center stage. Will at least gets to tag along with Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and the other younger friends. Jonathan often only appears in a few small scenes with his girlfriend Nancy (Natalia Dyer), and the writers even flirted with pushing Nancy back into Steve’s arms in the most recent season. Jonathan spent the majority of season 4 high on marijuana and frolicking around in a faux buddy-comedy routine with the one-off character Argyle (Eduardo Franco).  The decision to waste Heaton’s work from the first two seasons with a 180-degree personality change made no sense. Jonathan suddenly seemed careless, distant, and uninspired, but not in a dense way that could be unlocked by further character development. Little-to-no time was spent on him. While some fans might concur it is a necessary evil to take screen time away from older characters when expanding the world of Hawkins, it certainly transforms Stranger Things from a show about family into a show just about monsters and romances. 

Jonathan’s Enhanced Role in Season 5?

Many theories point to Will being one of the critical pieces to defeating Vecna (Jamie Campbell Bower) in the fifth and final season. His connection to the Upside Down and the evils underneath the surface should open up opportunities for Jonathan to lend his ears and counseling once again. Jonathan grows on an individual level when he aids others. When locked out of his family’s life, it stunts his ability to shine as a listener and an empathizer.  Jonathan’s best scene from season 4 again features a tear-jerking moment with Will. On the cusp of coming out of the closet, Will needs Jonathan more than ever before, and his brother responds supremely to the task at hand. The poignant conversation validates that the Duffers haven’t completely forgotten how to flesh out the Byers family. When the world gets too enormous for the characters and the audience, Jonathan serves as a connector to the most human elements of the series’ thematic thesis. He may not be as funny as Steve or as neurotic as Robin, but Jonathan symbolizes the good in all of us. In a show shrouded in darkness, Jonathan’s presence will be instrumental to forming a satisfying, optimistic conclusion in Hawkins, Indiana.

[holidaygirl1224]

💬New Post from holidaygirl1224

So, I like horror movies a lot... I thiinkkk I've said this a few times here, at this point XP. I just think being scared is fun, and sometimes they can have really great stories! There's one particular series of horror movies however that I've avoided for basically my entire life... it's the one where like... everyone just dies. That's it. That's the whole thing. Every movie, it's just these terrible, elaborate disasters happening to everyone because one person "cheated death"... no one EVER lives!!! XD I don't mind characters dying, that's just how horror works... but from the start you basically know everyone's going to die... and then they die!!! And that's it!!! The thrill of it, of course, isn't about the destination... it's about seeing just how each character ends up FINALLY dying. The main reason I avoid these films isn't because of that, though... it's that almost every death is with completely mundane, real life things! Someone will drop a fork, and that'll cause the most RIDICULOUS chain of events, and by the end everyone in the room has had their heads chopped off. My problem is that I am ALWAYS thinking these things. Like, ALWAYS. When walking down the street, I'm thinking about all the things that could go wrong, and kill me... even when I'm alone in my room at night I'm waiting for the roof to suddenly cave in and crush me XD All the thoughts are of course not going to happen, they're ridiculous... but these movies? They're all ABOUT those sort of thoughts coming true... so watching one I've always feared would just make my thoughts ten times worse. Over the years I've seen some scenes from these movies, but I've never sat down to watch a full one...... until earlier today. I went to the movies with, umm.... well, someone, it doesn't matter who! But I let her pick out the movie... and guess what certain series just HAPPENED to have a new movie out in theaters. DXXXX It wasn't... bad. It was absolutely not a bad movie, in fact it had a lot more good plot and twists throughout than I expected... overall, I'd say it was a good movie. But GOODNESS. GOODNESS. GOODNESS. It was ROUUGHHHHH to watch XDD I'm always happy to be in a cold room with popcorn, so there was that... and I wasn't alone... but goodness it was a hard movie to sit through. Since getting out of the theater, I've felt like EVERYTHING is going to kill me LOL Once we got out of the theater I was walking so slowly, trying to be as careful as I could... and hey, it paid off, cause your girl's not dead!!! XD Ya'know, the whole movie's premise is based around the idea of if you cheat death, it'll come back to get you... Which just makes me think of a time me and my dad were driving during a storm, and we stopped at a traffic light..... and while we were sat there, within mere FEET of our car, a huge bolt of lightning struck DIRECTLY NEXT TO US!!! My dad turned to me, expecting me to be super worried and crying... but I was just silent... I think the shock (XD) of the situation really just stunned (XDDD) me. If it just hit a little more to the side, well... it would've been smoked venison for dinner XD Thankfully we lived to drive another day... but I wonder if that counts as cheating death.......... hope I never find out!!!!!!!!! XP

[remlionheart]

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

Marinade

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ when i first decided that i wanted to write some yuuji angst, i had a v vague idea in my head of what it might look like, but when i tell you that this fic took me for a ride, i mean it. angel boy yuuji itadori finds himself mourning his 22nd birthday rather than celebrating it. sitting alone at a bar, overwhelmed by grief when he's suddenly greeted by the one part of his past that doesn't hurt to look at. 4.9k words. hurt/comfort, angst, smut, fluff, slice of life, shonen, literally everything and anything going on here. i was crying and smiling and rooting for these characters and i'm not sure that i'll ever emotionally recover from writing this, but i'm really happy w the outcome so lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡ (also shoutout to my girl @bratbby333 for always being my biggest hype-woman and proofreading for me when i've looked at a fic for too long and start to hate it) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

now playing: marinade by dope lemon

Yuuji hadn't seen you since middle school.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He remembered you as the girl who had pretty handwriting and a serious affinity for the color blue. The girl who would leave pastel origami hearts on his desk without ever saying why. The girl who'd hide away in the library during lunch instead of eating with the rest of the class. The girl who he'd watch on the bus ride home with a sinking feeling in his stomach, catching the way your eyes glossed over each time the driver stopped in front of your house.

He learned how much you loved to read and write that year. Glancing at you from across the study hall room, secretly jotting down what number was printed along the spine of your book so that he could get you the next one in the series. He'd leave it on your desk before class started, the same way you did with his origami hearts. Never saying a word about it.

He watched you fill countless journals, your face always so concentrated as you poured your thoughts into them. He’d stop by the shopping plaza near his house after school every time he noticed that you’d reached the last page, spending his allowance to make sure there was a new one waiting for you the next morning. Each one he gave you, a different shade of blue.

But it wasn’t until the last day of eighth grade that he finally mustered up the courage to break the not-so-silent-silence the two of you had been sharing for the last 6 months. He sat down next to you, introducing himself even though it went without saying. His eyebrows furrowed a bit when you wordlessly slipped out an earbud and handed it to him. A rare, but visible smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He held it in his palm for a moment, his eyes drifting along your face as he brought it to his ear, letting the tangled white cord tether the two of you together.

He’d never heard the song before, but he still remembered thinking how fitting it was. Dreamy and melodic - just like you. The singer's voice was full of raw sincerity, adding another layer of atmospheric haze to the already heady beat while the chorus gradually filled the space between you.

He didn't have the right words to explain it at the time, but he felt lucky as he watched you stare out the window that day. Lucky to know how pretty you looked when the sunlight caught the side of your face. Lucky to know which fantasy novels you liked to spend hours losing yourself in. Lucky to know what type of music you listened to when you were deep in thought. Lucky, just to be sitting next to you.

His heart jumped around in his chest when your eyes met his again. Both of you exchanging the same somber smile as you realized what road you were on.

He handed his half of the headphones back to you, secretly relieved at how calm you still seemed despite the fact that your stop was next.

“That song,” he hesitated, the lyrics still swirling through his mind. “what was it –”

But his question came to an abrupt end as the bus began to brake, a new and overwhelming warmth dancing through his veins when he noticed how close you suddenly were to him.

His pupils doubled in size, his breath catching in his throat while you leaned in carefully, pressing the softest kiss against his boyish cheek.

"Have a good summer, Yuuji." you whispered, grabbing your backpack off the floor.

His hand rested where your lips had been, his gaze following you off of the bus. You made it about halfway up your driveway before pausing to look back at him over your shoulder, two lingering smiles blurring past one another as the driver hurried on with her route.

The next two months were filled with sunshine and soccer practice for him. Bike rides and camping trips and basketball courts. His days were usually full, but no matter what he was doing or where he was going, there was one song that was always on the tip of his tongue:

♫⋆｡ ♪ ₊ ﾟ“Do you want me? Just how I am? Do you need me and where I stand?”

One song that would forever remind him of you:

"Let's go steady, let's make a plan. Marinade on that for a little while." ⋆｡ ♪ ₊♬ ﾟ。

And he did.

He marinaded on the infatuation he felt for you the rest of that entire summer.

When August arrived that year and brought everyone back for high school, he was ready.

There were stories he wanted to tell you, questions he wanted to ask you. Playlists he wanted to make with you. Books he'd found while thrifting that he wanted to give to you. Daydreams he had of roaming the halls and laughing with you. Visions of bringing his lunch into the library so he could eat with you. He couldn't wait to hear about your summer. Couldn't wait to catch up with you. Couldn't wait to see you.

Unfortunately for you both though, life had other, much darker plans in store for the pink-haired boy who just wanted to carry around your books for you and hold your hand during passing period.

He was called out of class early on the first day. Forced to leave the building before he even had the chance to see you as he frantically tracked down the nearest shuttle and rushed across town to get to the hospital. His grandpa’s health had been on a slow decline, but after his most recent fall, it had suddenly started to plummet.

Yuuji missed the majority of that week, dedicating all of his time to the man who had essentially raised him. He would bring him food and sit with him for hours even though he was mostly incoherent. He’d tell him about his day and leave flowers by his bedside. He'd watch reruns of old game shows with him that they used to watch when Yuuji was little, completely ignoring the nurses who would say things like, "You need to give yourself a break.”

The hospital staff tried their best to get him to take a day off. To go back to school and live his own life, but Yuuji just couldn’t. His grandpa was the only family he'd ever really had. There was no way he was going to leave him. He ditched the comfort of his bedroom and began sleeping on the cramped hospital futon next to the grey-haired man, teaching himself what each machine hooked up to him was responsible for and what vitals they monitored. He’d sometimes leave throughout the day, but it was only for a couple of hours at most. He'd return with more flowers and books to read to him. By the third week of school, he'd missed almost every single one of his classes, but he didn’t care. His priorities were firm.

Yuuji stayed by his side - day in and day out, until the very end.

When he woke up to the sound of erratic beeping and codes that he didn't understand being called out by nurses, he knew. He knew in his heart that this was it. Amongst the chaos were two sets of shaking hands reaching for each other, his grandpa's last words hanging heavily in the space between them,

“Yuuji... You're a strong kid, try your best to help others, okay?”

He remembered thinking at that moment that there couldn’t be a worse feeling. That he couldn’t possibly have anything else left to lose. He was only 15 and he was now officially all on his own as he watched the only parental figure he had let out his last breath of air.

He had no family, no future, no chance.

Fate was a cruel and calculating thing though. A few days after the funeral, Yuuji discovered that he did have a future. One that was irreversibly sealed the minute he stepped foot into Jujutsu High. He had to let go of everything he'd known in exchange for the damning task of becoming a vessel for Ryomen Sukuna. He had to trade in his mundane role of being a high school freshman for the daunting responsibility of becoming a first-year sorcerer. And arguably the hardest thing of all, he had to give up the simple pleasure of sharing a set of tangled headphones with you to try and save a world that didn't truly care about him.

There was no room for normalcy anymore. This was his new life and it was ending, one day at a time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He sat at a nearly vacant bar by himself, staring down the empty glass in front of him, watching the ice melt as he ran a shaky hand along the back of his neck.

It was 4 o'clock and he was only one of two people here this early. The lights and music were still being adjusted by the workers. Cups being stocked and coolers being filled for the inevitable Saturday-night rush that would come in the next few hours. His goal was to be absolutely obliterated by then - to already be on his way back home before the swarm of college students took over.

He paused, noticing the calendar hanging by the craft beer list in front of him. His heart stuttered a bit as he blinked back at the date. No wonder he'd been feeling so reminiscent lately.

He leaned over the counter hoping to find the bartender who'd poured his first drink, but to no avail.

He grabbed his glass, sucking down the very last drop of whiskey it had to offer, trying desperately to drown out the realization that today was his 22nd birthday and the people who should be here with him weren't.

Almost every friend he'd made over the last ten years had been ripped away from him. They were scattered memories. Familiar voices that he did his best to hold onto. Faces, names, deaths that followed him everywhere he went.

Middle school and the innocence of just wanting to hold a pretty girl's hand while she walked down the hallway were long gone. He was an adult now. A very tired and traumatized adult.

He peered around the corner again, half-tempted to jump over the bar and pour himself another drink when the stereo kicked on, an overwhelming wave of pure, deep blue nostalgia flooding over him without warning.

His back straightened, his eyes suddenly darting towards the speaker as the lyrics drifted across his skin, causing every hair on his body to stand up at once.

"She wanted to die by a river. She wanted the tide to come up and drag her away, so that when she's dreamin', she can watch the tree line fall away." ⋆｡ ♪

It was the same hazy melody that he'd spent an entire summer listening to on repeat. He still knew every word, every beat. It was muscle memory the way his fingertips began to drum along the counter when a bartender finally emerged from the back.

"Sorry, do you need a –"

Time stilled, the glass nearly slipping from his hand as your gaze caught his.

"Yuuji?"

Despite how much you'd changed since the last time he saw you, your voice was somehow just as soft as he remembered it being.

He stared back at you in quiet disbelief, guilt quickly settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about how fucking strange and unexpected this all must feel for you too.

From your perspective, he'd spent all of 8th grade trying to befriend you only to up and leave without even saying goodbye. And now, 7 years later - he was at your work, looking back at you like you were an actual angel, and forgetting every word he knew.

Your eyes stayed locked on his for another moment, both of you studying the person in front of you before you finally let out a shaky breath and smiled at him.

"Here," You offered, suddenly feeling the need to soothe your own nerves too. "On the house."

He tried to tell you that he could pay for it, but it was too late. You were already pouring two shots and motioning for him to put his wallet away.

"Okay, fine. But..." There was a glimmer in his eye as he pulled his glass away from yours. "What are we toasting to?"

The smile he gave you felt like a warm hug. One that you didn't realize you needed until you had it again. "Oh," You stammered, trying to ignore the blood that was rushing to your cheeks. "What about... To old friends?"

He nodded, still wearing the same expression as your drinks lightly knocked together. "To old friends."

He couldn't help but grin again at the little shiver that swept across your body as you finished yours.

Your hair was longer, your features a bit more mature, but your mannerisms were all the same. You were still the girl that was made up of mid-day sunlight, handbound books, and shades of blue that were too pretty to exist in this world.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler and slid it to him, once again ignoring the credit card he tried to hand you. "Yuuji, relax." you leaned against the counter, resting your head in your hands so that you were eye-level with him. "They're not gonna go bankrupt over a $2 IPA, I promise."

"If you say so."  

You both exchanged the same small smile, his finger lightly running along the counter. "So," he cleared his throat, completely unsure of where to start. "How've you been?"

It was a loaded question, maybe even a dumb question considering how much time had passed, but he didn't care. He really did want to know how you'd been. What you'd been up to. What type of things you'd been writing about. What your Spotifty playlists looked like. What you did on your days off. He wanted to know everything. All of it.

"Well," you exhaled, trying to find an easy way to condense the last seven years of your life. "My parents..." your eyebrows furrowed, realizing that you'd never gotten the chance to tell him why you used to dread your old bus route so much. "My parents finally got divorced..."

“Oh shit, I’m sorry -"

“No,” You said swiftly, not wanting him to feel bad for asking. "It was more of a relief than anything. They used to fight, a lot. My mom wasn't always the nicest when she drank... It probably should've happened way sooner to be honest."

His breathing slowed as memories of you with tears in your eyes walking up your driveway smashed through his mind. He'd promised himself that he would ask you about it one day, but he had no idea it'd be this much later on. He'd wanted to talk to you about it as kids. Wanted to know what scared you so much about going home, but he didn't know how. It was the reason why he left journals on your desk. The reason why he never let you go without the next book in your series.

For everything he couldn't say, he tried to show. But he'd failed you on both accounts the day he disappeared.

"My parents separated my -" you paused, eyes dragging to his as you corrected yourself. "our graduation year."

He nodded, doing his best to digest the thought of you walking down the aisle in a cap and gown with the weight of your parents' downfall on your shoulders.

"But, after that," you smiled slightly. “I applied to college and got accepted. Started working here. Got my own apartment. And I don't know...” you shrugged, "I think in a weird way, things happened the way they were supposed to. It was like everything needed to fall apart before it got better, you know?"

He smiled back at you, your last sentence lingering in the space between you as he reached for your hand. He probably wouldn't have understood that sentiment a year ago, but watching your eyes widen while your fingers slowly tangled into his, he knew exactly what you meant now.

"I'm really sorry I wasn't there..." His thumb brushed against the side of your hand, steadying himself as he let 15-year-old him and 22-year-old him come together to say what they had both been holding onto for so long. "I didn't want to leave. I just -"

Your heart swelled in your chest, watching him blink back tears he wasn't prepared to shed. "Life got really hard for a really long time for me too. But, whenever I felt myself drifting... I thought of you. Thought of the way you'd glance at me from over your book during class. Thought of the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching. I thought of you... all the time. And it was like, no matter how dark things got, it reminded me that life could be good, because it was at one point. So..."

Your hand tightened around his, two sets of glossy eyes now staring back at each other as he forced himself to say what he should've years ago. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there, but... I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."

You were dizzy with emotion. Swimming through feelings that you'd kept buried for nearly the last decade. The thoughts you'd only been brave enough to write down. The overwhelming urge to kiss him again and again and again until neither one of you had any air left in your lungs.

Your mouth opened and then closed, your body saying more than you were capable of with how desperately you were holding onto him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Didn't have time to think or care about the repercussions of your impulsiveness.

"Hey Mai," You called out, "I'm really not feeling well. Think I'm gonna go home."

Yuuji's head was shaking no, but the surprised smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was saying otherwise. "What're you doing?" he whisper-shouted, watching you run around the bar to grab his hand again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mai yelled from the back, but it was too late.

You and Yuuji were already gone, practically sprinting alongside each other, laughing as you booked it across the parking lot.

"First the free beer and now this?"

"They won't go bankrupt over me missing one day." You winked. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

You may have been leading the way, but he was still the athlete between the two of you, purposefully slowing himself down to not be right on your heels. But when he noticed you starting to pant as the road curved into an upward slope, he reached out for you, gently spinning you around to face him.

"Come here." he knelt down, positioning himself so that you could easily wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

He carried you piggy-back style up the hill, the sun fading into an array of pink and orange as you pointed out every bookstore around campus, explaining which ones were your favorites and why. Promising to get matcha with him tomorrow at a local coffee shop you passed. Asking him about his time at Jujutsu High and trying to wrap your mind around what little he was able to tell you as he swore that he'd fill you in on the full story when the time was right. You caught him up on what he'd missed the last three years of high school and how your college classes had been going. You talked about libraries and ghosts and laughed about how in 7th grade he'd joined the occult club just because he thought it'd be an easy after-school credit.

By the time you'd finally reached the spot you'd wanted to show him, the moon had almost completely replaced the sun. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and your hands were full of a mixture of different flowers that he'd picked for you along the way.

"This is..." he trailed off, watching the sky shift into a deep blend of blue and silver. "Beautiful. How'd you even find this place?"

It was an abandoned park surrounded by overgrown trees that overlooked the city, only one rusted swing set left to its name. The hike you had to endure just to find it had more than likely been the cause of its demise, trekking up here with a backpack was hard enough, let alone a stroller.

"I kinda found it by accident." You shrugged. "I was working on an art project and needed a good view of the skyline. I looked up a bunch of different places online, but then I saw this spot and just knew."

Yuuji pulled off his hoodie, sweat trickling down his neck from the late-summer heat as the two of you sat in the grass, his arm gently wrapping around your waist.

There had been so many times you'd sat in this exact same spot by yourself, wondering what the odds were that you were both somehow looking up at the same star.

Your head rested on his shoulder, a warm gust of air swirling around you as you both looked out into the distance, watching the way the stars faded into the Tokyo lights.

"Hey, Yuuji?" You twirled a blade of grass between your fingers, not wanting to ruin the moment, but still needing to be sure.

"Yeah?"

"You promise, right?"

"Hm?" He could hear the concern in your voice, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

"You promise that... you're not leaving again?"

"I swear, I'm not going anywhere. And if I do," His eyes returned to yours, his free hand attentively resting under your chin. "I'm taking you with me."

You nodded, warmth washing over you as he traced along your jawline, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your fears were lost to his touch. Your worries dissolving into the sincerity of his voice. Your need for reassurance wholeheartedly met when his hand cupped your cheek and his lips finally caught yours. Seven years' worth of pent-up feelings pouring out between the two of you, hands roaming and little moans slipping out between breaths while you tugged on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He was gentle but eager. Soft but secure. Perfect, in every way.

He hovered over you, easing you onto the grass as he made a makeshift pillow out of his hoodie for you to rest your head on.

You smiled as his lips drifted from your mouth to your neck, his palm delicately traveling up your shirt, pulling your bra to the side while he helped slide your tank-top up over your head. He kissed your collarbones, whispering sweet little praises into your skin. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"

He rested a hand under your back, steadying you as his tongue flickered across your chest. He took his time, making sure to give each nipple the same amount of attention, still humming things like, "the prettiest girl I've ever seen" while his hand traced over your hip.

He tugged at the waistline of your shorts, looking up at you through his lashes as he began to leave featherlight kisses along the inside of your thigh, his blood racing at the sounds you were suddenly making.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

You whimpered out a broken "yes", practically dripping when his fingers spread you apart. He watched you writhe beneath him, drawing slow but firm circles around you. Trying not to lose himself to the way your legs were already shaking for him.

"Yuuji," you whined. "I -" his mouth was ghosting your center, his fingers still playing with your clit while he held you in place. "I n - need you." your voice was heady, lost somewhere in the clouds the faster he went. "I wanna f - feel you, so bad."

"Yeah?" He smiled, his breath still fanning across your core as his digits prodded carefully at your entrance. He groaned at how beautifully your walls swallowed him. "I wanna feel you too."

Your head lulled back, eyes pointed at the sky while your hand tangled into his pink hair. His mouth was warm and heavenly, his tongue running uppp and dowwnnn your center, saliva mixing with slick while his fingers plunged into you.

"Oh, fuck."

He only went deeper the louder you got, flattening his tongue against you with just the right pressure to keep you saying his name. His ring and middle finger hitting spots you'd never been able to reach yourself. You were clenching around him, your thighs locking around his head as you rocked against his tongue.

"Yuuji - you're gonna make me -" he thought it was adorable the way you struggled to get more than two words out at a time. "Fuck, I -"

"Mhmm, just like that."

He was in the same daze you were, sliding in and out of you feverishly until he finally felt the blissful release of your walls spasming around him. Your body suddenly unable to hold it in any longer as you gave him the privilege of really tasing you.

"Oh my god," he moaned, faithfully lapping up every bit of you he could get, only pulling away when you started begging for him.

"Yuuji -" It was needy and light-headed. "Come here, come here. Please."

The way he lifted his head up, smiling at you with your cum dripping down his chin made something inside you ache.

You pulled him towards you, desperately wrapping your legs around his waist as he began undoing the buttons on his pants. He kissed you, again and again and again, using it as a pleasant distraction while he wriggled himself free.

He took a breath, both of you watching in blitzed out awe as he lined himself up with you. "I love you." he whispered, your eyes widening from the blend of his words and the feeling of his tip slowly entering you. "Always have."

His hair brushed against your forehead as he parted your lips with his tongue, your nails digging into his neck with his first full thrust. You were so tight and warm around him.

He tried to ease into you, encouraging you while also making sure you were comfortable. His voice sweet as honey as he asked you things like, "Is that okay, baby?" and "Aw, you like when I go deep like that, huh?"

Your gaze locked with his, your eyebrows knitting together the faster his rhythm became.

You'd thought about this moment before. Thought about what it might feel like, but nothing could've prepared you for the way your heart would race at the sound of him moaning, "You're doing so good for me." The way he'd hold you, looking back at you with stars in his eyes as he filled every inch of you.

"Yuuji -"

"Let it out, baby. S'okay." He whispered, his hand reaching for yours. "I've got you."

Your vision was blurred by the feeling of his tip meeting your cervix, warm summer air brushing against your skin as you reached your breaking point.

"I love you." The words left your mouth so fast you barely had time to register them, but then... they wouldn't stop. It was the only phrase you remembered how to say. The only emotion you remembered how to feel. "I love you." you whimpered again, feeling yourself tighten around him as your confession became more frantic. "Oh - mygod, Yuuji. I love you. I love you. I love - you."

His movements were suddenly beyond his control, his body completely succumbing to the grip of yours. "Fuck, baby - I -" He didn't know if he should pull out. Didn't know if he could pull out. His head was everywhere, his mouth dropping open the longer he watched you.

Your legs locked around him in heady reassurance. "Mm'mm, d - don't stop." You panted. "Cum with me."

It was a sentence he'd only ever thought he'd be lucky enough to hear you say in his dreams.

His hips stilled after one more thrust, your walls holding him tight as he began to twitch inside you. His forehead pressed against yours, his arms struggling to keep him propped up.

You exchanged the same exhausted smirk, leaning up to kiss him while he carefully pulled out of you. A blend of fluids spilling out onto the grass beneath you as he laid by your side with his forearm over his face, trying to regain his composure.

There was a calm silence that settled between you, the both of you looking up at the stars before you rolled over to reach for your shorts, letting him catch his breath while you dug something out of the back pocket.

"Here." You said, unraveling a tangled pair of headphones and handing him one.

His eyes widened with the same curiosity they had 7 years ago as he held it to his ear, your head resting on his chest while a song he knew all too well flowed through the small speakers connecting you. A smile splitting across his face as he held you closer.

"You know, I think you were right." he exhaled, running light fingertips along your arm. "Everything did have to fall apart before it got better."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff: Bluey's The Sign

Bluey is still great and I don't need to go into why again. What's most important is that even in such short time of knowing this cartoon, you can see the growth of it all. Joe and the crew share how the world of the Heeler family gets to learn, adapt, and grow without rapidly warping the status quo. You go through and see how everyone is able to work through rough and weird times with sincere maturity. Season 3's Finale is where this all comes to a head and it's as beautiful as I expected, MORESO.

Brandi got to be happy would've been enough for me

The Sign deals with the idea of hard ideas. Those hard ideas that aren't inherently about change, but issues that when faced with initially, it feels like a bad ending. A bad ending which can't be easily fixed and you don't know where to go from there, and it hurts. It hurts when hard ideas swoop in, ruins your mood, festers your mind, and leaves you aimless. Bluey shows that it happens, this is the rare time where a ton of crap hits the fan in one day and it's not something Chili or Bandit or any adult can fix right away. I've never experienced this, but I felt the pain Bluey, Bingo, Frisky, and Chili went through where they're bargaining, burying, and avoiding confronting a potential reality they didn't want. This is where the real hero of the special comes in...

Haven't said before, but Calypso is a masterful teacher

The parable of the farmer works as an incredible seedling thought for Bluey when she reveals her moving. It's not a story I ever heard, but known the message all too well. The message of not just accepting bad things that happen to you, but know that it'll never be the end of the world because of them. Don't think of it as deep, but a natural motif to grow with. This is where a debacle regarding the episode churns with me. It can seem like a cop-out that every character gets what they wanted by the end, as I said before the cartoon can be more idealistic than what our real life allows. Then again, the true beauty of Bluey I believe has always been if it's possible, the family will find a way and do it responsibly.

If happiness can be achieved, they'll know how to get it

Beyond all this, the special is great. They waste no minute here in art and storytelling, and as said before, it's like Smash Bros Ultimate where everything is here. There are great callbacks to episodes you probably wouldn't have thought about, on top of getting to see the whole Heeler family on Chili and Bandit's sides like that blew my mind. Plus I love seeing weddings, dude, like I wish I was there with them. The feels are tsunami-ous like it's unfair to say this is the all-time best episode of the show, but darn if it wouldn't be earned.

When else will I see the epicness of riding shotgun?

But to conclude, it's been said that after this the Ludo crew will take a indefinite hiatus from Bluey the series, especially when they have a new project underway. And honestly? I'm more than satisfied. The show could've ended here and I would've been somewhat at peace with them giving us this beautiful episode. I of course didn't get into this series since its beginning, but I came around the right time to enjoy it myself, to see others recognize its greatness, and to finally make it here. It's great to know this was only another chapter in the book, and I'll see to be around when it gets to come back. As for The Sign? What else is there to say?

It was Beautiful. Cheers to the crew for everything.

[junkdrawerfan]

Idk if anyone will read this post but I've been trying to learn a bunch about different characters. And I've so far been learning about Tim. He's got so much content to sort through. I think only Dick (in terms of the Robins) has more content than him. So here are my thoughts while reading through some of Tim Drake's Robin run.

Part One:

Next

Batman 468-469:

Tim has really been set up to be the "Robin who Saves Batman." Because Tim is a Robin who does not have an internal desire to run around as a caped crusader, "why is Time Drake a hero" seems to be an essential question to his existance from the beginning:

This is after Tim has lost his mother and his father is paralyzed and unable to care for him. As such, Tim is staying at Bruce's manor (though no offical adoption has taken place. In fact his living situation is not explained beyond him just living with Bruce. So i assume a fostering situation?) Already, we see Tim stepping in to care for Bruce and remind him he's not invunerable.

I'm really enjoying the 90s action vibe they give Tim. His first nemesis is King Snake who'd feel right at home in a Jackie Chan movie! The fact that this 14 year old boy has the "second greatest figher in the world" (right after Lady Shiva) shaking in his boots is WILD even though its King Snake confusing Robin & Lady Shiva haha

This is after Tim has lost his mother and his father is paralyzed and unable to care for him. As such, Tim is staying at Bruce's manor (though no offical adoption has taken place. In fact his living situation is not explained beyond him just living with Bruce. So i assume a fostering situation?) Already, we see Tim stepping in to care for Bruce and remind him he's not invunerable.

I'm really enjoying the 90s action vibe they give Tim. His first nemesis is King Snake who'd feel right at home in a Jackie Chan movie! The fact that this 14 year old boy has the "second greatest figher in the world" (right after Lady Shiva) shaking in his boots is WILD even though its King Snake confusing Robin & Lady Shiva haha

I get why he had the longest running Robin solo act.

Bruce is very very protective of Tim in this arc. Makes sense since he just lost his old Robin and was spiraling because of it. We're -- time wise -- about a year and a few months since Jason's death. It makes sense that Bruce is having a hard time since another boy in danger, especially in a situation where that boy is being targetted by the big bad of the run. I guess they have to get Bruce to a point where he'll let Tim run around without as much helicoptering (and eventually found the Young Justice!). Its a really fun emotional core.

Batman 470

Just fun romps. I know I should switch to Robin II (Robin I covered his training with lady shiva & meeting king snake which i wrote about here) to keep learning about Tim. But I do like the Batman comics. I do not understand the difference between the Batman & Detective Comics. Like I get the Detective Comics are the original Batman comics but they're both about Batman so like.... why have two batman runs about the same guy and characters in the same universe? Just put out more detective comic runs? Makes no sense (plus having dual Batman v Detective Comic runs really fucked over Jason's time as Robin. I'm excited they're putting out the Batman & Robin: Jason Todd comics soon so we can finally have a definitive Jason Todd Robin characterization.)

Batmna 471:

WTF! Killer Croc oh my god! You poor thing!!! He just wanted to hang out with his family and watch cable tv!

Okay. Switching to Robin II series to continue to learn about Tim Drake!

(Side Note: Thoughts about the Batman comics though. I dislike that they stopped in 2011. I mean this comic series has been running since the 1940s! Its cool for a character to have that much history. Honestly, they shouldn't have rebooted the OG lines like Batman/Detective Comics/Superman/Action Comics. They're such long running series its more fun to let them just keep going. Especially since they ended up rolling it all back anyway. Its just a weird choice to decide the shit that kept your company alive from the 1940s doesn't matter anymore?)