#including using his whole entire title every time

[rooniearts]

some auntie amy content for all you dadow au enjoyers <3 she would do literally anything for that boy

[mordredpendragon]

SIR MORDRED, The Traitor: A Masterpost

“Know that he will be born the first day of May in the kingdom of Logres.” ⸺ Post Vulgate

In celebration of Mordred's birthday, here's a compilation of all things Mordred!

Majority of these links are supplied by the @arthurianpreservationproject 💕 Would just like to shoutout @queer-ragnelle and @tboymordred for the help in making this! As well as many of my beloved friends and mutuals for their extended support. I put a whole lot of time and effort into this post, so to anyone reading this, I hope it will be of use to you in some way.

I would just like to preface that while I do try to be as thorough as possible, this is by no means an exhaustive list of every single Mordred appearance that exists. That would be impossible. Consider this moreso a curated list of based on what I have seen and what has been available to me thus far, so this will be updated as I go along.

There's a myriad of things I elected not to include for numerous reasons, so the media and literature I have chosen are ones that I think would be of interest for someone seeking out Mordred content specifically.

EDIT: After the scare I got for having my account terminated, I decided to make a Google Doc version of this masterpost in case anything happens again. The gdoc and this post will be updated at the same time whenever I have any new additions, which will be marked as ‼️

Last updated: 31/5/2025

Medieval Texts

Exhibit A

British History and The Welsh Annals by Nennius (Latin)

⭐The History of the Kings of Britain by Geoffrey of Monmouth (Latin)

⭐The History of Scotland by Hector Boece (Latin)

⭐Chronica Gentis Scotorum by John of Fordun (Latin)

The Dream of Rhonabwy (Welsh)

The Welsh Triads (Welsh)

⭐Lancelot-Grail Vulgate Cycle (French)

Post-Vulgate (French)

Merlin and the Grail by Robert de Boron (French)

⭐Roman de Brut by Wace (French)

⭐Layamon's Brut (Middle English)

Stanzaic Morte Arthure (Middle English)

⭐Alliterative Morte Arthure (Middle English)

Le Morte d'Arthur by Thomas Malory (Middle English)

Mort Artu (Middle English)

La Tavola Ritonda (Italian)

These are the texts translated into English that I'm aware of where Mordred is a central character or plays a significant role. Out of all of these, I personally recommend Alliterative Morte Arthure, Layamon's Brut, and Vulgate the most. In these texts Mordred is given a surprising amount of complexity and nuance, especially in Alliterative Morte Arthure. He even gets a sick title, Mordred the Malebranche/Evil-Arm. Below in the essays section there's plenty of literature analyzing and discussing it, which I suggest you go take a read if you're curious. His characterization in Vulgate is also one of my top favorites and is also incredibly in-depth, especially prior to his rebellion. He was described as having been "kind and compassionate" at the start of his career as a knight, only for him to spiral after finding out his true heritage.

The Scottish Chronicles (such as the accounts written by John of Fodrun and Hector Boece, although there are more of them not listed.) are also fascinating since they talks about how Arthur is actually illegitmate and Mordred is the rightful ruler all along. While Fodrun speaks well of Arthur as an admirable king, Boece is biased against him in favor of Mordred/Modredus.

Exhibit B

⭐Perceval + Continuations (French)

I put this text in an entirely separate section purely because Mordred is just a side character here, but I think it's worth looking into if you like Mordred. In the Perceval Continuations, particularly the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Continuations, he is primarily shown as an antagonist for Percival. They have an intense duel where Mordred loses and begs Percival for mercy, to which he then sends him off to Arthur's court as his prisoner. Admittedly, I am biased 🌈 but Mordred shows up more often than you'd expect. The tone is moreso lighthearted and humorous with his rebellion against Arthur seemingly absent in it.

Retellings

I'm working on this in a time crunch so not everything has commentary (might update it when I feel like it lol) All my favorites and ones I consider must-reads/watches are listed with a star⭐ That being said, enjoy!

Novels

part I (Main Character)

⭐The Wicked Day by Mary Stewart

⭐A Camelot Triptych by Norris J. Lacy

⭐Idylls of the Queen by Phyllis Ann Karr

Queen's Knight by Marvin Barowsky (cw: pedarasty)

The Book of Mordred + The Last Knight of Albion by Peter Hanratty

part II (Secondary Character)

Arthur The Bear of Britain by Edward Frankland

The Eagles Have Flown by Henry Treece

The Great Captains by Henry Treece

The Green Man by Henry Treece

Poetry

The Song of the Four Knights by Ernest Rhys

The Fight at Camlann by John Masefield

⭐Modred: A Fragment by Edwin Arlington Robinson

The Death of King Arthur by Your Loving Granny

King Arthur's Death by M.G Lewis

Plays

⭐Mordred: A Tragedy by Henry Newbolt

King Arthur by J. Comyns Carr

The Misfortunes of Arthur by Thomas Hughes

Guenevere: A Play in Five Acts by Stark Young

Short Stories

⭐Mordred and the Green Knight by Phyllis Ann Karr

Night Mare by Chelsea Quinn Yaribo

Told by the Moonlight by Darrel Schweitzer

Films and TV

Films

⭐Knights of the Round Table (1953) dir. by Richard Thorpe, played by Stanley Baker

Sword of Lancelot (1963) dir. by Cornel Wilde, played by Michael Meacham

Camelot (1967) dir. by Joshua Logan, played by David Hemmings

Unidentified Flying Oddball (1979) dir. by Russ Mayberry, played by Jim Dale

⭐Excalibur (1981) dir. by John Boorman, played by Robert Addie (adult) and Charley Boorman (child)

⭐Morte d'Arthur (1984) dir. by Gillian Lynne, played by Nickolas Grace

⭐Knightriders (1981) dir. by George A. Romero, played by Tom Savini (technically his name is Morgan here but he's basically just Mordred.)

⭐New Adventures of a Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court (1988) dir. by Viktor Gres, played by Mark Gres

Camelot (1998)

King Arthur Excalibur Rising (2017) dir. Antony Smith, played by Gavin Swift

Arthur & Merlin Knights of Camelot (2020) dir. Giles Alderson, played by Joel Phillimore

Everything listed with a ⭐ are genuinely some of my top ever favorite portrayals of Mordred. Absolute must-watch. 80's Arthuriana is life changing.

TV

Adventures of Sir Galahad (1949) uncredited for whatever reason :/ if anyone knows who his actor is please let me know!

⭐BBC Legend of King Arthur (1979) played by Steve Hodson

⭐Merlin (1998) played by Jason Done

BBC Merlin (2008-2012) played by Alexander Vlahos (adult), Asa Butterfield (child)

Other

Music

⭐Mordred's Song by Blind Guardian

Mordred's Song by Grave Digger

Mordred's Lullaby by Heather Dale

Crashing Down by Heather Dale

War Between Brothers by Heather Dale

⭐Seven Deadly Virtues from Camelot (Musical)

Demon Down by Gary Hughes ft. Doogie White

The Hard Way by Gary Hughes ft. Doogie White

Peacemaker by The Mechanisms

Skin and Bone by The Mechanisms

TTRPG's

I, Mordred: The Fall & Rise of Camelot

Fair warning that I reccomend this with HUGE caveats as this contains violent misogyny, racism, and homophobia. If you like Gareth please look away because he sucks in this. That being said, Mordred is very much intended to be the hero you root for and he's so dreamy. He's described as pure of heart. He seems cold, but is warm to those he's close to. He has war dogs and they're all named after the 7 virtues. In a dark, bleak and gritty fantasy setting, Mordred is a shining beacon. It's adorable. I haven't played this myself, only read through the entire booklet but there's a lot of cool concepts and story beats that you can definitely expound upon yourself. Even the less savory elements, especially the misogyny and racism, can honestly just be ignored by the GM.

Video Games

King Arthur: Knight's Tale

I haven't played this so I can't tell you much about it, but it's a turn-based strategy game where Mordred is the main playable character and it's set in Post-Camlann.

Resources and Essays

Books

The New Arthurian Encyclopedia by Norris J. Lacy

The Arthurian Material in the Chronicles Especially Those of Great Britain and France by Robert Huntington Fletcher

The Arthurian Way of Death: The English Tradition edited by Karen Cherewatuk & K.S Whetter

Essays

⭐Mordred: Heroes and Anti-Heroes in Medieval Romance by Judith Weiss

⭐Arthur, Mordred, and Tragedy in the Alliterative "Morte Arthure" by Gillian Adler

Friendly Fire: The Disastrous Politics of Friendship in the Alliterative "Morte Arthure" by Christine Chism

Re-presenting Mordred: Three Plays of 1895 by Pamela Yee

⭐Mordred's Lost Childhood by Elizabeth Archibald

The Sword and the Scepter: Mordred, Arthur, and the Dual Roles of Kingship in the Alliterative "Morte Arthure" by Steven P.W Bruso

⭐Who Was King Arthur’s Sir Modred? by Andrew Breeze

[flying-fangirls]

As a music, religion, and literature nerd, the Dies Irae has been one of my favorite go-to pieces of trivia for a long time, which means that this line:

Has been driving me batshit BONKERS since part 42! And also as a semi-professional media analysis yapper, I figured I might as well dive into the exact reasons I jumped up and audibly gasped upon first hearing this line and have subsequently lost my mind since then. So!

Here is why I think that the Dies Irae is the perfect analogy for John and Arthur:

Religion

Let's start with the most straightforward meaning: "Dies Irae" is a Latin term, and it translates to the "Day of Wrath." Or otherwise known as the Judgement Day, the foretold second coming in Catholic canon, when Christ will "come again in glory to judge the living and the dead." It's at this Last Judgement where God will wield perfect justice to send the worthy to everlasting peace and the unworthy to everlasting punishment. (everyone say "thank you" to excessive childhood Catholic lessons for burning this into my brain)

There's a kind of irony to the fact that Arthur so vehemently rejects Christianity and religion as a whole, and that John spends much of his arc trying to distance himself from the role/identity of a god, yet both are given this incredibly religious title, effectively restricting them from ever forgetting the presence/influence of religion in their lives.

This title has a couple layers though, because we have to consider why it's the Day of Wrath specifically that represents Arthur and John. Now, I don't think I have to tell you that those two are bursting with anger 80% of the time. But I am going to tell you that those two are not just angry, but moreso "divine fury" incarnate.

The Day of Wrath, the Final Judgment, is the final and eternal judgment of God on all: "For now before the Judge severe / all hidden things must plain appear; / no crime can pass unpunished here." (Dies Irae, Dies Illa). The final Judge, the all-powerful God, can see the objective morality of every single person, and is thus the sole, rightful determiner of fate.

This assumption of their right to perfectly and single-handedly decide others' worthiness shows up over and over, not just John and Arthur's actions, but also in how they describe these judgments.

When Arthur kills the widow on the island, it's not because she was dangerous, but because she was a cultist who "deserved" to be punished.

When John and Arthur need to get rid of Mr. Scratch's stone, John says they should give it to "criminals" who are "deserving of this curse." Even though, just moments before, Arthur refused to give the stone to Oscar because to do so would be to cursing him to a fate of eternal suffering.

And I can't go into every single detail about the entire Larson plotline because this post would double in size, but it obviously needs to be included here. Possibly the strongest tie between this arc and the idea of the Dies Irae is Arthur's conviction through it all. Arthur vows that he is going to kill Larson in divine retribution not because he wants to, but because he has to. He even goes so far as to admit that killing Larson will be a mistake, a cruel and overly-bloodthirsty action that goes against his compassion. But killing Larson isn't a choice to Arthur, it is the unavoidable punishment for Larson's sins and Arthur is simply the enactor of justice. Just like the Final Judgment, there is no sympathy, no hesitancy— the judgment is absolute, divinely ordained, and cannot be stopped no matter how undeniably horrific it is.

If we look at the Catholic Catechism, principle 2302 states that it is sinful to kill out of desire, but that it is "praiseworthy to impose restitution" and use violence to "maintain justic." So even if Arthur has intent to kill, his actions count as divinely sanctioned. He is acting as the hand of God's punishment.

Over the course of Season 3 and 4, Arthur's fiery rage dies down to a more gentle simmer, but his conviction only seems to grow, and John follows suit. Despite previously reprimanding Arthur for his unquestioning wrath, John eventually becomes just as convinced that Larson "deserves" to face a wrathful reckoning. The "fact" that Larson is wholly unforgivable and is fated to receive eternal punishment becomes more indisputable in their minds, and they both stop questioning the morality of their intentions, entirely convinced of their judgment.

Throughout the story, Arthur and John insist upon the importance of kindness, compassion, and forgiveness, and say that these are the values that guide their every action. Yet, time and time again, they approach certain people with nothing but wrath and resentment. It's a sharp contrast to the benevolent figures they make themselves out to be, and Arthur and John are often blind to the contradiction because, in their eyes, they are still following those values in every action. And in the moments when they do recognize their horrific words or actions, they still cannot let their judgment go, convinced that it is their "duty" either way.

In Part 35, Arthur says "Just because you can't make the hard decision, doesn't mean it's wrong." This is exactly how John and Arthur view themselves. They know that some of their actions are harsh and violent and painful, but they are don't view that violence as wrong, because they are enacting that violence in justice. They move through life with carefully-selected destruction, culling the world of those they view as unforgivable sinners, and punishing them with divine righteousness. Arthur and John carry righteous fury in their every step, bringing the Day of Wrath down upon the world around them.

Now, there's already a ton of meaning just in this religious allusion alone. However, there's another application of the Dies Irae in modern culture, which brings us to the second side of this title:

Music

Back in the 13th century (sounds like a familiar setting...), friar Thomas of Celano wrote a poem for and about the Dies Irae. The poem was recited at Requiem Mass (church services to honor the dead), and it ended up being set to a Gregorian chant tune.

Over time, this melody has been used by a variety of composers, but the one we're focused on is Hector Berlioz. In 1837, Berlioz used the Dies Irae melody as part of his narrative symphony, Grand Messe de morts, in order to communicate that the main character had died. Then a lot of other composers saw that and said "Hey that's a cool idea!", and started also using this melody to represent death in their music. Nowadays, it's a fairly staple part of modern film and musical storytelling. If you've listened to literally any major soundtrack, then there's a good chance you've heard this motif (or a variation of it) used before. It's often subtle, sometimes loud and obvious, but no matter what, it reveals the inevitable presence of death. (essentially, the Dies Irae=death)

Now, obviously there's something tragically ironic about Arthur being likened to a musical motif when he tries so hard to distance himself from it, and there's something tragically ironic about John being associated with such a dark piece of music when he shows so much fascination and joy toward the art. Again, though, we've got some layers here. Yorick doesn't just compare Arthur and John to the Dies Irae, he literally defines them as the Dies Irae, a full embodiment of it.

Even before the story started, Arthur lost both of his parents, his friend and wife, his daughter, and his best friend.

John, when he was part of the King in Yellow, knew only how to harm and attack. In the Dark World, he falls back on this fearful lashing out with violence, harming even more people.

And throughout the story, John and Arthur seem to bring devastation to everyone else around them: Lilly the buopoth, Oscar, Noel, Collins, Daniel, Larson and Yellow.

The arrival of Dies Irae musical motif in a film always indicates that death is approaching or that is has already struck— a host carrying its blight to spread onto others. Just like the musical motif, the arrival of Arthur and John foretells the near-arrival of death. They play a duet together— John and Arthur, and death— always singing and dancing around and with each other.

These two never succumb to death, always finding a way to slip through its fingers and survive every situation. But they cannot escape death's presence because they are death's partner— singing the melody to death's subtle harmony. They cannot escape death because they are its host— destined to carry and spread devastation to death's victims. From the moment you meet John and Arthur, you know that death is inevitably approaching just a step behind, waiting to strike you down.

Whether it's the religious or musical side, we can see that John and Arthur are the literal embodiment of these allusions. They carry these powers and ideas in their every action and word, in their every step, in their very breath and blood.

Arthur and John. The hands of God's justice. The enactors of divine fury.

Arthur and John. The hosts of blight and destruction. The partner of death's song.

The man himself. The voice inside his head.

The Day of Wrath. The Dies Irae.

[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)

[lexirosewrites]

An ask abt nugget #5 for slick sunday in the same universe as my new year's birth nugget #4

The Munsons live in Chicago, Eddie both co-owns a landmark music store & co-founded a small record label tht is growing by the year. Steve is THRIVING as a stay at home mom who gets to write fun kid friendly fantasy novels on the side & has had a number of them printed to a resounding success with his latest being the 1st of a kid friendly horror book series titled "The Strange Times Files"

Steddie got married/mated January 5, 1988 when Steve was already pregnant w nugget #1

The names & birthdays of the 4 Munson nuggets are as follows:

Nugget #1: Joan Riot Munson (May 4, 1988)

Nugget #2: Lennon "Lenny" Eagles Munson (August 15, 1992, 10:23am)

Nugget #3: Stevie Jett Munson (August 15, 1992, 10:25am)

Nugget #4: Jim Hendricks Munson (Jan 1, 1996)

(I did actual math to make these birthdays make sense so I can get the age gaps right & yes Lenny is going to b very obnoxious about being older than Stevie around their 12th birthday)

Steddie decide to hold off on nugget #5 for a few years. Then in 1998 when baby Jim is 2 years old, the twins are 6, and Joan is 10, they decide to start trying for #5

For their anniversary tht year Lucas uses his professional basketball player money to get them a private jet to Amsterdam, Will uses his art connections to get them a whole townhouse not far from the Van Gogh museum, and El makes Steve an entire bespoke wardrobe just for the trip (including lingerie).

They'll b gone for the rest of January (enough time to encompass Steve's upcoming heat) & while there is nervous energy tht they're leaving their pups for so long they know that their pack will take good care of them. Eddie provides a binder on each of the pups likes & dislikes & any allergies (Joan can't have shellfish & Lenny can't have mushrooms) along with a rough outline of the usual schedule of their days during the school week & weekends as well as any & every phone number they might need (poison control, pediatricians, school, and the number of the townhouse they'll staying at) & last but not least is what to do when each pup can't sleep (Joan goes down after a short game of scrabble because tht kid is a voracious reader w a vocabulary to match, Lenny & Stevie get tired after a cup of warm milk with honey extra points if Wheel of Fortune is playing on the TV, and Jim usually just needs to b allowed to get excess energy out then given warm milk with honey of his own)

The trip is wonderful!

Steve's mom visits for a few days from Vienna, she brings the famous sachertorte w her (which steve "sweet tooth" munson ends up loving) & invites them to visit her in Austria for the Christmas season next year in 1999 insistent tht she will pay for everything & tht she doesn't care tht Eddie makes good money producing music in Chicago she got an amazing divorce settlement & as a result owns half of Richard's more lucrative investments as well as her own newer investments. Amelia Harrington extracts a promise from the couple to be in Austria for Christmas 1999 then bids them goodbye & returns to her apartment in Vienna wishing them luck on making nugget #5.

they smoke weed in coffeeshops, they see an NSFW art performance in the red light district, & wander the museum & streets & generally be in love. Steve's heat comes on schedule near the end of their trip & it's a beautiful experience of reconnecting as people not just as parents or a couple. By the end they miss their pups, have fallen more in love, & r ready to be home again.

A few weeks after getting home Steve feels a little weird like he might b coming down w something, he's more easily nauseous & having body aches but cannot figure out what exactly is going on. He goes to their doctor with an inkling but wants to rule out all other possibilities, his blood test comes back telling them he's not only healthy but pregnant again w nugget #5!!! Steve is ecstatic & when he tells Eddie the alpha starts crying from how in love he is with his mate & how grateful he is tht Steve has given their family 4 healthy pups & is now pregnant w #5

Nugget #5 is a textbook pregnancy, so much so the doctor jokes abt it. Steve is glowing by week 5, baby #5 likes tumbling around more than their siblings, his cravings r different on the whole except he still craves pickles tht r as crunchy as possible like he did w his previous 3 pregnancies. Nugget #5 is due around October 29th but all baby does is drop into Steve's pelvis around tht date.

Then... October 31st arrives & Steve wakes up at 5am from a contraction. It isn't quite go time yet so the family goes abt their day w the exception tht Steve pauses to breathe thru contractions every now & then, steddie get their pups ready for school complete with costumes & makeup & promises tht when the day is done they'll have a new baby sibling in the world, Eddie takes the day off & takes baby Jim to Wayne's (who lives 2 doors down at steddies insistence) who then starts the phone tree to let everyone know nugget #5 is on the way today. By the time Eddie gets back home Steve has timed the contractions closer together but his water hasn't broken quite yet so after Eddie gets the hospital bag in the car along w his mate they go to portillo's for some French fries & a chocolate cake shake. It's as they get back in the car with Steve happily dipping his fries into his shake tht his water breaks. The hospital knows they're coming & so there's almost no chaos to speak of.

Steve gets hooked up to machines & Eddie gets scrubbed in so he can hold his mates hand as it comes time to push. He's pushing well but something feels wrong the longer he goes on, he doesn't feel weaker but something isn't right. & steddie realize at the same time as the medical team tht the babies heart rate is dropping with every push. Then there's a lot of movement really quickly as the doctor is suddenly prepping for surgery while a nurse explains tht an emergency c-section is going to be necessary & tht Steve will need to go under anesthesia. Eddie is doing everything in his power to maintain his own calm while thru the bond he feels Steve's anxiety mounting into panic as the information sinks in, he promises to not leave his side & tht everything w b okay & tht c-sections must not b a big deal bc already the doctor is ready & the anesthesiologist is entering the room & did Steve know tht Shakespeare mentioned c-sections so tht means they've been around longer than anesthesia & then Steve is breathing in the gas & counting backwards from 10 but only gets to 8 before he's closing his eyes

The surgery is indeed not a big deal, there's a lot of blood & he peeks to see they had to move Steve's organs around & Eddie's heart drops into the basement when he sees how blue his baby girl was because the umbilical cord had wrapped around her neck but soon they unwind it & she's breathing in big lungfuls of air & crying at the injustice of leaving her warm home of the past 40 weeks & she's laid down under a warming lamp before they even wash her because her temperature wasn't what they'd like

While Steve wakes up baby #5 is weighed & measured & she's healthy all around except the scare she gave them all because of her propensity for tumbling around in the fluid filled womb. Once she's washed her scent blooms milky but sweeter than any of their pups & after a blood test the doctors confirm she's indeed an omega (Joan was born with a milky but spicy scent & dual sex anatomy so a blood test confirmed tht she's a girl alpha, and its very likely the twins will b betas)

Steddie name her Siouxsie Robin Munson, Robin begins blubbering immediately when Steve tells her this. She gets baby Siouxsie a stuffed Robin bird for her crib tht the pup holds onto well into adulthood

Siouxsie goes home from the hospital & about a year later proves to b the water baby of the bunch. taking to the infant swimming classes at The Y like a duck to water. Eddie jokes she was tumbling around so much in the womb to prepare for an Olympic career.

((Indeed, 18 years later, following a lot of hard work & a lot of tears & a lot of moments of almost quitting but persevering anyway, in 2016 the entire upside down pack (+ pups & spouses & the list goes on & even not-so-baby-anymore Jim took a break from his latest filming schedule to b there) are all cheering wildly in the stands of Rio de Janeiro while Siouxsie Robin Munson wins gold in the women's 400 metres freestyle swim event, it is the first of many Olympic games she will attend & the first of many gold medals she will win))

(i was indeed impressed with the dates but also laughing because steddie have the same anniversary as my mom and i who are both divorced from the curse of our january 5th weddings😂)

[werewolfsmile]

The Eliot Spencer Details Masterpost

I have been recording details about our beloved Eliot Spencer on my latest watch through. And now, it's finally time to reveal the details!! If I have gotten any details INCORRECT, I beg of you to correct me, at which time, this post will be updated and credit given. (Note: S1 was aired out of chronological order. I am going by chronological episode numbers - aka the correct order - and providing the episode titles as well to minimise confusion.) !! This post contains details from Leverage: Redemption! Read the episode references carefully if you are wanting to avoid certain spoilers !!

Shirtless Moments

S1 E7 The Two-Horse Job: The flashback scene when Aimee asks Eliot what his excuse was for not coming back to her, we see him being dragged/tortured, shirtless. "Tell us what you did with the monkey!"

S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Eliot is shirtless for the fight match.

S4 E9 The Cross My Heart Job: Ehh he's not completely shirtless here but whatever. At about 16 mins in, Eliot and Parker are getting changed together, Eliot strips to a singlet then throws his shirt at me the camera. (I didn't include other scenes of Eliot in a singlet here because in this scene he's actively undressing, whereas in others he's not.)

Necklaces

The earliest sighting of his guitar pick necklace is S1 E2 The Homecoming Job. It continues to pop up frequently in episodes, though noticeably less in S1. I thought about recording every occurrence of it here but ... lmao it's in legit waaayyyy too many episodes for me to bother.

S2 E10 The Runway Job: Honourable mention of the necklaces Eliot wears with his fashion week outfit. The longer one is kinda dogtag-esque, the shorter one is ... I think it's a fleur de lis? He also wears a range of chain necklaces later in this episode.

S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Bird pendant (possibly kingfisher) visible at 34 mins 39 seconds. Full credits to @wolves-in-the-world for this one including the time stamp! You can check out their reblog of this post with more details here!

Dammit Hardison

S1 E13 The Second David Job: The FIRST INSTANCE of dammit Hardison in the entire show! Said upon discovering each other in the gallery, around 4 mins 15 seconds.

S2 E1 The Beantown Bailout Job: Said around 22 mins 30 seconds, immediately following, "What are the odds that Eliot's crotch will actually explode?" Iconic.

S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: When setting up for the magic show and discovering the rabbit missing, roughly 19 mins 45 seconds.

S3 E3 The Inside Job: Running from security, around 31 mins 30 seconds.

S3 E4 The Scheherazade Job: Trying to enter McRory's at the same time, around 1 min 30 seconds.

S3 E5 The Double Blind Job: This is an honourable mention because this time NATE is the one to say dammit Hardison! 9 mins 15 seconds.

S3 E6 The Studio Job: Upon discovering the master tape isn't in the case, roughly 32 mins.

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Eliot and Hardison running in the woods for their lives, arguing as always. This one is a bonus 'dammit' because Hardison says it straight back to Eliot after Eliot yells it at him! Around 21 mins.

S3 E12 The King George Job: Discussing Hardison's forgery work, followed by Eliot regretting touching anything. Around 23 mins 55 seconds.

S3 E13 The Morning After Job: Pretending to be cops and accidentally ending up with a prisoner to take back to jail, around 16 mins 20 seconds.

S3 E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job: Honourable mention of Chaos mocking Eliot by saying dammit Hardison. Roughly 21 mins 15 seconds.

(phew, S3 was rough on Hardison! given what Eliot was going through with the whole Moreau thing.... ooh that's delicious angst)

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Honourable mention for Sophie saying it this time! While playing the role that was meant for Eliot, around 24 mins.

S4 E6 The Carnival Job: Mixing chemicals for a distraction, roughly 25 mins 30 seconds.

S4 E17 The Radio Job: Hardison running away from being thrown off a high floor, around 5 mins.

S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Sneaking around at the Bellington Dam, roughly 13 mins 35 seconds.

S5 E1 The (Very) Big Bird Job: 'Accidentally' putting a brew pub menu in front of Eliot, around 10 mins 20 seconds.

S5 E15 The Long Goodbye Job: Emotional scene that we do not speak about, around 12 mins 40 seconds.

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: After knocking Harry out and asking Hardison to help carry Harry, and Hardison refuses. 11 mins 40 seconds.

RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: Upon discovering that security is headed to the vault where Parker is, and the only way down there is through the vents. Around 34 mins 10 seconds.

RS2 E1 The Debutante Job: We get 3! In this whole episode! Probably to make up for Hardison being gone for most of Redemption. Anyway! First one when Eliot and Hardison are in Ralphie Roy's place and Hardison has no idea who Ralphie is, around 23 mins 15 seconds. Second is when they're breaking into the elevator and Hardison won't help fight or move the unconscious guards, roughly 37 mins 40 seconds. And third, after the job when Parker says that Hardison was the one who took out all the guards. Around 45 mins 10 seconds.

RS2 E3 The Tournament Job: Right at the start after Eliot says gaming isn't a sport and Parker texts Hardison, so Hardison starts blowing up Eliot's phone. Lmao. Around 4 mins 20 seconds.

RS2 E4 The Date Night Job: After realising Breanna stole his truck, Eliot says dammit, then aims it at a grinning Hardison, since Breanna is already running away. Around 46 mins 50 seconds.

Dammit Parker

S1 E4 The Snow Job: Parker jumps out of a second floor window, Eliot catches her. 15 mins. (Parker gets a dammit from Eliot before Hardison does!!)

S3 E8 The Boost Job: Parker driving erratically, Eliot thrown around in back seat. (Technically there's a pause between dammit and Parker but I'm still including it) 35 min 35 seconds.

S5 E12 The White Rabbit Job: Searching the mark's house, Parker wants to steal a shirt. Again, this isn't technically a proper dammit Parker, as Eliot instead says, "Put it back! Dammit." But I'm still including it because it was aimed at her. 21 mins 20 seconds.

RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: Parker is pretending to be a hacker heavily modelled off Hardison. Not a proper dammit Parker as, again, Eliot only mutters "dammit" under his breath, but still counts to me. Just after 18 mins.

RS1 E10 The Unwellness Job: At end of episode, after Parker admits that she didn't even learn Eliot's name till after the team broke up the first time. 44 mins 30 seconds.

RS1 E13 The Hurricane Job: After washing up on shore and entering the Beacon Inn, Parker and Eliot are bickering about Maria. He doesn't strictly say dammit Parker but there's absolutely no doubt who he's directing the dammits towards. 3 mins 30 seconds.

RS2 E6 The Fractured Job: When farewelling Billy and Parker says next time she'll finish telling him about the robot bodies. Again, it's just dammit not dammit Parker but it's close enough. 41 mins.

RS2 E8 The Turkish Prisoner Job: Another standalone dammit that is most definitely aimed at Parker! When breaking Romero out, Parker says she's a firefighter (with far too much glee), around 14 mins 30 seconds.

RS2 E10 The Work Study Job: A full dammit Parker this time! When Parker reveals that it's super easy to steal from a university and produces a whole bunch of stuff, roughly 22 mins 40 seconds.

Very Distinctive Moments

S1 E2 The Homecoming Job: Eliot ID's the weapon from the gunshots, around 8 mins. Later, he ID's a guy off his knife fighting style, around 18 mins 50 seconds.

S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: ID's a CIA guy from his stance, roughly 7 mins 45 seconds.

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: ID's the smell of peppermint on Hardison's breath, around 21 mins.

S3 E12 The King George Job: ID's former British paratroopers by their haircuts, 30 mins 10 seconds.

S4 E1 The Long Way Down Job: ID's a former spetsnaz guy by his footprint, 13 mins 45 seconds.

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Honourable mention of Eliot ID'ing ex-military personnel by their stances, he just doesn't say very distinctive. 18 mins 50 seconds.

S4 E11 The Experimental Job: Honourable mention of Eliot ID'ing a helicopter by the whumpa-whumpa (there's 7 of them did you know). Around 7 mins.

S5 E3 The First Contact Job: ID's military satellite transmission by the static, 7 mins 20 seconds.

S5 E9 The Rundown Job: ID's a Navy Seal who enlisted between '90-'95 by his watch, around 16 mins.

RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: ID's a drone (Breanna's) from the sound. 11 mins 50 seconds.

RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: ID's Russian mob by the tattoos, 36 mins 30 seconds.

RS1 E7 The Double-Edged Sword Job: Honourable mention for Maria ID'ing the way Eliot disarmed her gun, 7 mins 50 seconds.

RS2 E4 The Date Night Job: Eliot ID's a guy as not having a distinctive anything - which is what is so distinctive. 20 mins 40 seconds.

RS2 E13 The Crowning Achievement Job: ID's MI6 off their search pattern, 6 mins 50 seconds.

Known Family

S1 E6 The Miracle Job: When discussing Bibletopia, Eliot says his nephew would like it. This is the ONLY mention of a nephew in the entire show, Redemption included; nor is there any direct mention of a sibling beyond this (which leads me to believe that this nephew is actually the son of a close friend/cousin/military buddy, rather than a direct family relation, but that's just my headcanon).

S2 E3 The Order 23 Job: When talking to the abused boy, Randy, Eliot says he has an uncle named Randy.

S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Eliot's dad owned a hardware store and he wanted Eliot to take over one day. But Eliot wanted to get out of that small town, so he joined the service. Fought with his dad the night before he left and hasn't been back since. He goes back at the end of this episode and knocks - but his dad never answers the door 😭

RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: While interrogating/torturing Eliot with Red Haze, Bligh says that Eliot's dad's friend from Vietnam has invited Eliot to join them for Christmas. At the end of the episode, Eliot goes to join them for dinner, only to get a message from 'J' that his dad was a no show. This 'J' is widely accepted as Eliot's unknown sibling but that is incorrect! 'J' is Eliot's dad's buddy from Vietnam!

RS2 E6 The Fractured Job: The ultimate Eliot family backstory episode!! (if you haven't seen it yet and don't want spoilers, skip this one!) Eliot was adopted by a black couple, Billy and an unnamed woman, after being abandoned/surrendered at a hospital as a baby. His father was a war hero who got none of the glory and sustained a wound, ruining his civilian career path, so Billy never wanted Eliot to follow in his footsteps. Eliot loved the stories of his dad in the military so joined up to be like him. His mother died while Eliot was on an op and he couldn't get leave to come back for the funeral, deepening the rift between him and Billy. Ultimately, they reconcile, (Eliot says his dad was always a hero to him, Billy say's he's proud of Eliot, they hug), and I cry every time 😭❤️ [Edit: Eliot being a baby at the time of being found at the hospital and consequently brought home by his adopted mother is unconfirmed and my presumption. We have no clear info on his age at adoption. Thanks to @nival-kenival for picking that up!]

Phrases: Ain't

S1 E4 The Snow Job: Said to Nate, right before Nate tells him to go skip some rope.

S1 E9 The Stork Job: Says it twice while conning Irina.

S1 E10 The Juror #6 Job: Upon being told to go help Parker instead of watching a sports game, Eliot takes his beer back.

S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Discussing the fights the mark runs, says they ain't the UFC.

S2 E3 The Order 23 Job: Said right before threatening to throw Randy's abusive father over the railing of a stairwell.

S2 E4 The Fairy Godparents Job: Upon spotting a hitman sent to kill McSweeten and Taggart.

S2 E8 The Ice Man Job: After hearing Hardison call himself the Ice Man, says he won't bail him out when things go wrong.

S2 E9 The Lost Heir Job: While trying to get Parker to the court room and end up cut off by the police.

S2 E11 The Bottle Job: When Hardison wants help to clean up Nate's apartment and Eliot refuses.

S2 E14 The Three Strikes Job: When Nate says to meet outside the ballpark but Eliot refuses because now he's sucked into the sport.

S3 E3 The Inside Job: Twice while arguing with Hardison about how to rescue Parker, once when Parker offers him a lift down the stairwell with her on her harness rig and he refuses. This is the most he says ain't in a single episode!

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Once when the militia try to make him kneel, later when the militia kid catches him and Hardison near the train tracks.

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: When Sophie changes her story to mock Eliot's accent and mannerisms.

S3 E15 The Big Bang Job: When confronting Moreau with Hardison.

S4 E1 The Long Way Down Job: Upon arriving at the base camp and complaining to Nate.

S4 E7 The Grave Danger Job: When looking for a buried Hardison and hearing the sprinklers.

S4 E10 The Queen's Gambit Job: At the end, swearing revenge on Sterling.

S4 E12 The Office Job: Arguing with Hardison about Eliot's sandwich while searching the warehouse.

S4 E13 The Girls' Night Out Job: When trying to convince Nate to socialise at the very start.

S4 E14 The Boys' Night Out Job: Exactly the same as the previous episode, so this one barely counts.

S4 E17 The Radio Job: In the patent office, when trying to figure out who lured Nate into this situation. The same scene is used later as a flashback.

S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Warning Nate of the consequences of taking a life with your own hands.

S5 E2 The Blue Line Job: When ambushed by Marko when leaving the ice rink.

S5 E9 The Rundown Job: Once when going to wring information on the hit out of Riley, once when Hardison steps on the trigger plate of the claymore.

S5 E13 The Corkscrew Job: First time talking to Betty about how Leonard's a jerk.

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Twice when ambushed by RIZ thugs in the warehouse.

RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: Once when discussing Ryan Corbett at the start, once when refusing to let Hardison have a turn with the diamond-tipped drill.

RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: When warning Breanna to be certain of her calculations for how to get him and Parker out of the casino's vault.

RS1 E8 The Mastermind Job: Once when discussing hiring people to overthrow a government, once when discussing how they're going to do like 6 things at once, including saving Harry.

RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: Said twice while talking with Blanche, after Blanche helped rescue Eliot from RIZ.

RS1 E14 The Great Train Job: While digging through the tainted soil with Harry.

RS2 E1 The Debutante Job: When trying to get to Volkov's plane with Parker and seeing that two guards are in the way.

RS2 E5 The Walk In The Woods Job: Talking to Paul after rescuing Harry, who was pretending to be Eliot.

Fun fact: for every ain't that Eliot says, Hardison says at least two more. And that's too many for me to bother recording!

Phrases: Y'all

Never. Not even once.

Hardison, on the other hand, says y'all all the damn time - every season, multiple times, sometimes even multiple times in the same episode.

Honourable mention for Chaos saying y'all as an incorrect mockery of Eliot's accent in S3 E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job.

... Okay, okay! So Eliot says it a few times in Redemption! But only in ONE episode!

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Said 4 times when playing a character and convincing people to clear out of the auction house.

That's it.

Aliases

These are all the names that Eliot's gone by or used on cons that I could find, not just full blown aliases.

S1 E1 The Nigerian Job: Detective Lieutenant Carden (the scene with this alias was cut from a lot of versions of this episode)

S1 E4 The Snow Job: Vince Fetkey, Hans Von Schwesterkrank

S1 E7 The Two-Horse Job: Brad Mackie

S1 E9 The Stork Job: Dale

S1 E12 The First David Job: Professor Sinclair

S1 E13 The Second David Job: Professor/Dr Adam Sinclair

S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Kid Jones (on the fight match poster)

S2 E4 The Fairy Godparents Job: Coach Brewer

S2 E5 The Three Days Of The Hunter Job: Earl

S2 E9 The Lost Heir Job: Officer Hilts

S2 E10 The Runway Job: Julian

S2 E14 The Three Strikes Job: Roy Chappell

S3 E1 The Jailhouse Job: Dr Abernathy

S3 E2 The Reunion Job: Lloyd Hickey

S3 E4 The Scheherazade Job: Guy Hamilton

S3 E5 The Double Blind Job: Phil

S3 E6 The Studio Job: Kenneth Crane

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Agent Quint

S3 E8 The Boost Job: Skeeter

S3 E9 The Three-Card Monte Job: Detective Moffat

S3 E10 The Underground Job: Eric

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: Dr Wes Abernathy

S3 E16 The San Lorenzo Job: Ray Laroque

S4 E2 The Ten Li'l Grifters Job: Charlie Siringo

S4 E4 The Van Gogh Job: Lieutenant (only granting him this one because CK played him in the flashback)

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Tom Boonen

S4 E12 The Office Job: Mr Dennis

S4 E14 The Boys' Night Out Job: Luigi

S4 E15 The Lonely Hearts Job: Jackson Cooper

S4 E16 The Gold Job: Tobias Bowden

S4 E17 The Radio Job: Cowboy (*cough* John McClane *cough*)

S5 E2 The Blue Line Job: Jacques "Jack" Labert

S5 E3 The First Contact Job: Willie Riker

S5 E5 The Gimme A K Street Job: Steven Turner

S5 E6 The DB Cooper Job: DB Cooper/Young Steve Reynolds (again, technically not an alias but whatever it's here anyway)

S5 E7 The Real Fake Car Job: Barry McElroy

S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Archer

S5 E14 The Toy Job: Carl

Honourable mentions of Eliot being called: "Rambo" by Hardison in S1 E2 The Homecoming Job [thanks @independent-fics for this!]; "Emeril" by Parker in S1 E3 The Wedding Job [thanks @aardvaark for this one!]; "Sparky" by Parker in S1 E10 The Juror #6 Job and by Tara in S2 E15 The Maltese Falcon Job; and "Skippy" by Hardison in S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job.

RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Will Gallagher

RS1 E6 The Card Game Job: Glenn the Savage

RS1 E7 The Double-Edged Sword: Emmett Milbarge

RS1 E8 The Mastermind Job: Frank Farmer

RS1 E10 The Unwellness Job: Hank

RS1 E12 The Golf Job: Reed Wilkins

RS1 E13 The Hurricane Job: Calvin

RS1 E15 The Muddy Waters Job: Armus Vagra

RS2 E7 The Big Rig Job: Kris

RS2 E8 The Turkish Prisoner Job: Nick O'Brien

RS2 E10 The Work Study Job: New Blood, Caterpillar

Honourable mention of Eliot being called "Skipper" by Hardison in RS1 E16 The Harry Wilson Job.

Known Associates

This is in direct reference to hitters/people from the criminal world that Eliot knew or was aware of prior to the Leverage Team. Quinn is not included in this list due to that distinction (sorry Quinn).

S1 E3 The Wedding Job: The Butcher of Kiev

S2 E7 The Two Live Crew Job: Mikel Dayan

S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: Gutman

S3 E15 The Big Bang Job: Chapman, Damien Moreau

S3 E16 The San Lorenzo Job: Damien Moreau

S4 E4 The Van Gogh Job: Frank, Randall

S4 E6 The Carnival Job: Roper

S5 E4 The French Connection: Rampone

S5 E9 The Rundown Job: Riley

Trivia

S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: Eliot claims he only sleeps 90 minutes a day, and that he cured his claustrophobia as a kid by locking himself in the woodshed behind his house for a couple nights.

S3 E6 The Studio Job: Eliot is nervous to perform in front of an audience, to the point that Parker startles him and she's surprised that she did. Interesting to note that he seems to have no issue playing sport in front of crowds.

S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Eliot says he hates beets.

S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Eliot chews gum. He does this throughout a LOT of episodes across the seasons but I've only noted down this one episode for it.... thanks, past me 🙄 [Edit: thanks @nival-kenival for more info! Another confirmed episode is S1 E2 The Homecoming Job, and S3 E13 The Morning After Job!]

S4 E9 The Cross My Heart Job: Eliot says he fought a guy with a Nerf sword in Damascus, 2002.

S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Eliot drives an F-150 to his dad's house in Oklahoma. This is a THIRD vehicle that apparently belongs to Eliot, in addition to the Chevrolet Silverado and Dodge Challenger we see in other episodes. The F-150 is not seen again.

S5 E12 The White Rabbit Job: Eliot has 'special sedatives' aka a little psychotropic he picked up outside of Bogota.

Eliot mostly walks at the back of the group, presumably to be the rear guard and make sure no one falls behind. See ... just about every damn episode for evidence.

RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: Parker says that Eliot has cut his way out of an ice cave, escaped a gorilla enclosure, and catered a wedding for the mob.

Eliot is seen wearing glasses throughout various episodes. A flashback in S1 E1 The Nigerian Job shows him wearing presumably his own glasses. All other instances of him wearing glasses (that I can think of) are when he takes someone's glasses for a con. It is unconfirmed if Eliot actually needs glasses to correct his eyesight or not, but is a fandom headcanon. In S3 E1 The Jailhouse Job there is an interaction where Nate ribs Eliot for taking so long in a fight, and Eliot says it's because of new glasses. An argument could be made that this means Eliot does require glasses. [Thanks @independent-fics for picking this up - for pretty much all the details pertaining to Eliot's glasses!]

And there you have it! All the details that I've spent the last 3 months collecting!! Now it's time for me to take a good, long break because my brain is fried! 😂

Once again, let me know if you find any errors so I can update the post. Data from Redemption S2 is where I've most likely missed things, since I don't have it on DVD and it's sooo much harder to scrub through streaming footage to find things. When will they release RS2 on DVD I need itttt.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! I hope this post can be a helpful reference for you!

[bakahimesama]

The Allmother: An Entirely too Long Analysis

In the whole demo, we only get one completely missable set of dialogue on this potential deity.

But that is more than enough information for me to start speculating. The two important parts to break down here are her supposed connection to the hearth and thus fire, and her title of Allmother.

A hearth is the part of a house where fires are made and kept (a fireplace is the modern day equivalent). Traditionally, before the advent of stoves and furnaces, this fire was used both for heating the house and cooking meals. It was considered one of the most important parts of the home, and so by extension, the spirits and deities that lived in the hearth and controlled the hearth fire were the most important beings to the household and its survival.

Hestia, Greek goddess of the hearth, was given the first offering of every domestic sacrifice, and at feasts she was granted the first and last sip of wine.

Gabija is the Lithuanian spirit of fire, who was offered bread and salt to feed her. If you did something to disrespect the hearth, like spitting or peeing in it, she was known to burn the house down. Later she would become known as the hearth goddess Matka Gabia.

The Ainu people worship Kamuy-huci, who lived in the hearth and controlled the gateway between humans and the divine. Deceased souls would reside in the hearth alongside her, and so keeping it clean was vital to ensuring those souls could eventually reincarnate properly.

Jowangshin is the hearth goddess of Korean shamanism, and relayed to the heavens the going-ons and behaviors of each household's inhabitants. She is described as vengeful towards those who do not respect their hearths, and actively works against such individuals.

The pattern between all of these deities is clear. The hearth is controlled by a woman who is deserving of the utmost respect. And it is pointless to think on the hearth without tying it to the element it is tasked with controlling and maintaining, fire. Hestia is sometimes described as a living flame, Gabija is originally a fire spirit, in some myths Kamuy-huci is born from a fire producing drill, Jowangshin is the goddess of fire alongside the hearth. To say that a hearth goddess is also a fire goddess is no great stretch of the imagination.

But why does the Allmother's connection with fire matter? Because we're all rather familiar with a certain being who is constantly being associated with fire, flames, and especially warmth:

Right from the beginning, before we even know what he looks like.

In non canon events.

In teasers for the game.

And of course, in the demo itself.

Kuras is a furnace, and we're not allowed to forget it. And wouldn't it just make sense, that the angels of a hearth goddess are themselves related to fire? Kuras is an angel, which means he responds to a higher being, why not this one? What that means for his route, I can only image.

Back to the original text, the traveler is praying that the Allmother will be forgiving of sins, implying that part of her domain includes the right to judge lives and morality. She is also believed to guide lives "unto her hearth," likely at the time of death considering the context of when the pray is being uttered. Which leads me to believe that she is responsible for helping souls pass on peacefully, but only if she deems them worthy of her fire. Since in many cultures a "good" death is a very important end goal to pursue, staying in her favor would be considered paramount to those who believe in her.

Moving on to her title, the name suggests that she is either the deity of a monotheistic religion and thus naturally all encompassing, or a major deity in a polytheistic pantheon. Either way, there are only so many interpretations one can dissect from a title that implies an all encompassing claim of maternal jurisdiction.

If nothing else, I suspect she is considered a mother to her angels. Whether or not Kuras will even bring her up is debatable, since I could just be seeing connections that aren't really there. But as an angel I'm sure he'll at least drop the name of the being he's serving penance for.

Maybe she won't be mentioned ever again. Maybe she'll be an integral part of Kuras' route. Maybe she'll be a passing mention that isn't nearly as important as such a name suggests. Regardless this break down has helped me better understand Kuras' themes, and has made me even more excited to play his route.

[insert-random-account-name]

Analyze the Princess- The Moment of Clarity

Ooooh boy, we started on the Chapter Threes. Expect less frequent additions as I find a way to include every possible voice combination and every different way of finding them...

I’m starting with one of the shortest chapter 3’s. The Moment of Clarity is what some players may call a “walking simulator”, since the only real choice you can make is to either go to the cabin or call it quits. After that, no actual choice is offered, the player instead being forced to click one option, all the others being grayed-out text that aren’t even actions, but their own story. I understand those who may be disappointed with the lack of player choice in the game about player choice. However, I completely disagree. The execution of the Moment of Clarity is the perfect finale to the story you’d been building that entire time. One in which you continuously fight for a middle ground where there is none, ignoring your survival instincts, the Narrator telling you to end her NOW, and the Princess trying to convince you to free her. Due to the nature of this chapter, my analysis will be a lot more chronological and ordered than my usual.

You get the Moment of Clarity by either fleeing the Nightmare or telling her to do her worst, since you won’t free or slay her. This enrages the Nightmare, she calls you a coward, and, for the first time, pulls down her mask to reveal what’s underneath. Before the darkness envelops you, you briefly see two wide, terrified, and miserable eyes, one of which has a tear dripping from it, and an toothy grin, punctuating the frozen sadness in her gaze. Then you enter one of the coolest scenes in the whole game, in which the Narrator describes the agonizing repetition the Nightmare has experienced, punctuated by the Nightmare telling, demanding, SCREAMING at you to “Let. Me. Out!” This goes on until even the Narrator can no longer bear the weight of the words he is saying, and he gives up. The Nightmare, with her usual cadence returned, mockingly says that she’s broken you, and tells you that when you return, you’ll know what to do.

And then you’re back, but something has changed. The Moment of Clarity is one of three chapters that break the traditional title screen format. At first you see Chapter III, but then consecutive chapters start appearing, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI, until the entire screen is covered in text, the numbers only ever growing. Finally, black text appears across the senseless jumble. THE MOMENT OF CLARITY.

This scene shows how broken everything is, especially you. How many times have you been here? How many choices did you make? How many ways did you die? Were you even there? Did someone else make the decisions for you? Did you simply forget, your own mind being too shattered to recall the horrors you’ve witnessed? You’ll never know.

When the chapter begins, the Narrator can’t even get through his first sentence before Paranoid freaks out. This again references the past chapters you can’t remember. Soon, you realize that every single voice is there.

The opening scene is so incredibly powerful. The trees are hanging in midair, roots suspended above an infinite void. Turning around and leaving isn’t an option. Not only does this represent the construct breaking down as the thread is pulled taut, or the disintegration of your very self, but the options that have been taken away from you. You can’t run away. There is only one path to follow; the one that leads to Her.

You approach the cabin. But there is no cabin. No, there’s always a cabin. Don’t ask about the mirror. You walk up the hill and face the mirror. You proceed. The where doesn’t matter. You take the blade. You’ve tried every other option before, remember? (Side note: Using the greyed out options to add additional storytelling is brilliant) But the blade sinks into the ground, out of sight. You look into the abyss left behind, and She’s there. Her mask is barely held together, pulsing in and out of place. Countless arms pull her up to the surface. There is no other ending. You take her hand and set her free.

The message that the Moment of Clarity delivers is one of failed compromise. You ran away from choice, leaving her in the basement to suffer, and then tossing your blade (or running) in a foolish attempt to avoid making a choice. But you lost your control a long time ago. By putting off your choice, you rob yourself of the ability to make one. By refusing to pick a side, your side is picked for you. You aren’t morally superior by staying neutral; you’re just a coward. And now, you’re nothing but a puppet. A tool. Pulled along by your strings until you fulfill a purpose given to you by someone that hates your very existence. Sound familiar?

In this chapter, you get to feel what the Princess feels. You get a glimpse of existence itself as you’re pulled into its spiral. The neverending cycle of birth and death, the fleeting nature of success and happiness, the monotonous emptiness of a basement filled with chains. You see the ugliness of change, the part of the Shifting Mound the Narrator wishes to destroy. And it breaks you.

The Moment of Clarity’s mask is broken. It floats around her head in shattered pieces, until you take her hand, when it fully disappears. This represents how she is no longer hiding herself, how she’s opened every part of her heart to you. Now that you’ve seen into her soul, the mask doesn’t work anymore. It’s transparent, cracked, flimsy. When you take her hand, she stops trying to keep it up. It falls away, revealing darkness underneath. A beautiful, deep, darkness, but still darkness. There is nothing to hide between the two of you. She knows what she is, and she knows that you will always be a coward.

When the Moment of Clarity talks to you, it is quite reminiscent of the Nightmare, with the two having the same cadence and general attitude. Again, the Moment of Clarity has shown you her heart. There is no change that needs to happen to her. The only one who needs to become something else is you.

Finally, when you let the Moment of Clarity out, she is taken by the Shifting Mound. Before that, however, she makes the usual remark of being cold, but adds something else. “I didn’t think I’d be so tired.” In that moment, her voice loses the effects put on it, making her sound small. Now that she's free, now that she’s won, she doesn’t know what to do. The emptiness of all the Moment of Clarity had to do to get there finally sets in.

The Moment of Clarity is one of the most psychological routes of the game. It takes you through the twisted maze of one’s own heart, and the suffocating darkness that lies behind. 

“This one is a waiting maw. An inevitable destination where all roads end. She will make for a wise heart.”

Btw, I have breached 45 pages, 15,000 words, and 62,000 characters (not including spaces). This project has permanently changed me as a human being.

Guess who finally caved and made a masterpost? Me! You can find links to all of my character analysis posts there!

Slay the Princess Character Analysis Masterpost

[mtkay13]

The peach blossoms are blooming

Lol @the fancy title, haha. Yesterday I promised "two hoboxu's today!" but I'm an inconsistant liar so the second is today and not yesterday, HAH.

Anyway, another painting of my very beloved; more about this piece below!

So aside of the obvious joke, what I really wanted to work on and represent on this picture is, as the title makes it clearer, grief, and what it looks like for ZZS.

The idea came from imagining ZZS setting off, happy with his disguise, and passing by a peach tree orchards and seeing all the peach blossoms blooming, and what it would entail.

...So let's talk about what TYK is about again, shall we?

(usual caveat: those are my thoughts and interpretations etc etc)

Little is known of the four years that separate the end of QY and the beginning of TYK. Even less is obviously stated when it comes to the reasons why ZZS has put in the nails, besides the obvious "requirement to leave Tian Chuang" part.

So, trying to leave all headcanons and other suppositions aside, and looking at what the text gives us, one of the main "storylines" of ZZS' personal journey across both books seems to be: dealing with the loss of LJX, first of their relationship, and later, of LJX entirely.

>I'm going to boldly announce that (I think) TYK is in great parts a story about getting over grief, or rather, properly living with grief.

Needless to say that it is clear that ZZS has a bunch of issues he's dealing with, including "the void after meeting your goals; what's next?" and some form of burnout from completely over-exerting himself and going way beyond what he thought he could sustain mentally; but also. Four years after he lost LJX, ZZS is still deeply grieving. Still seeing him in crowds, still thinking about him frequently, still hallucinating him, dreaming of him. He couldn't resist taking in ZCL because ZCL reminded him of LJX. Nearly every single thought of his own past ends up rooting back to LJX.

The first time he mentions LJX's name out loud in TYK, chapter 41, is the first time he mentions it at all in four years, and to quote the text:

Speaking out his name hadn't been that big of a deal, in the end; it had only felt like something had been pulled out of his chest—like he was now missing a piece, like it left behind an empty void.

(TYK ch41, TL by me)

The next scene is when it hits ZZS that he's going to die; from that moment on, ZZS starts feeling stupid, ZZS slowly starts wanting to find a solution, influenced by WKX... and the story culminates with ZZS making the opposite decision that he made in QY: instead of risking never seeing WKX alive again, and against WKX's decision, he goes to meet him, unlike LJX whom he was too scared to go meet, and lost forever without even saying goodbye.

>I think that ZZS essentially took the nails because he couldn't manage to live with that grief, basically. (I know, I KNOW there are other reasons, but for the sake of analyzing this theme, I find interesting to look at it from this angle; how the narrative shifts towards ZZS putting in the efforts to stay alive at the exact same times he starts letting go of LJX literally.) And then, as he learns, as he rediscovers life differently, the story becomes about getting free from the nails, about actially living with that grief rather than dying because of it.

*coughs* so, hum, yes. This is what I wanted to represent. What grief looks like, at this stage of melancholic, happy, self-deprecating acceptance of freedom through death—freedom of the burden of grief and guilt. It's a bittersweet feeling, but the way I see it, he smiles out of what he thinks is inner peace, resignation, and once again, self-deprecation.

I would go even deeper, in that ZZS' relationship to death with regards to LJX is quite complex and difficult, given how he was told by LJX himself that he ought to die for what he's done (or misunderstood LJX saying so), but that's a whole other can of worms and I don't have the brain juice to go there again (since it wouldn't even be the first time iirc). SO YEAH, again, grief, but ZZS style: turned into a bit of a melancholic, silly, but gentle joke, and with a smile on the face. On brand with TYK as well.

Cheers!

[bteezxyewriter12]

You Won't Regret Me/ 1

Pairing- Wooyoung x Named Reader

Word count- 4k

Includes- enemies to lovers, arguing, insults, hate sex, semi public sex, bathroom sex, wall sex, sex from behind, squirting, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, arguing during sex

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13 @mknae-jongho @bykeynote

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝ATEEZ Masterlist 📝Wooyoung Masterlist

Wooyoung POV

We all stand behind Hongjoong, watching the drug exchange go down, all of us ready to scrap if we have to

Hongjoong waves his hand, Joanne coming forward with the case full of heroin

She puts the suitcase next to Hongjoong, standing stoically next to him, waiting for the other gang to show the money

I scowl at her back

I can't fucking stand her

She's Hongjoong's best friend from childhood and when he started the ATEEZ gang, she was invited to be in it

As a member of his inner circle

She's tough, loyal and ruthless just like him

But she's also cocky, a know it all and argumentative

She thinks she's better than us

She's mean and rude

I hate her

The other guys tell me to chill the fuck out but I can't

Just her fucking voice grates on me

And the way she presents herself as if she and Seonghwa don't share the title of second in command

How it doesn't bother Seonghwa is beyond me

I'd shut that shit down in a second but Seonghwa lets it go

Probably because they fuck from time to time

But I'll be damned if I let some pussy affect my job

The leader of the gang puts a suitcase on the table and opens it, showing Hongjoong the money

Hongjoong goes closer, checking the bills, making sure it looks like it's all there

We won't know until we count it

"Jo", he says, and she opens the suitcase we brought, showing the rival leader the product

He goes to the suitcase, takes a knife out and opens one of the blocks

Sticking his finger in it, he tastes it and nods

Hongjoong scoffs, "Did you think we'd give you fake heroin?"

"You never know", the leader growls

"We have a reputation to uphold. When we say we'll do something, we do it", Hongjoong sneers, "We don't go back on our word"

"Noted", the leader says dryly

"If that's all", Hongjoong rolls his eyes, waving his hand to the suitcase of money

Seonghwa steps up, closing the suitcase and taking it

"Actually that's not all", the leader says

I hear guns cocking and when I look around us, all the men the leader brought has guns pointed at us

Great

"Give us the money"

Hongjoong sighs, "And what, you'll let us go?"

"No"

"Yeah thought so", Hongjoong says, shaking his head

"You were stupid enough to bring your whole inner circle with you", the leader grins, "It's just too good an opportunity to pass up. Taking out the whole ATEEZ gang. My gang will be famous for that. I will be famous"

"No, you're gang will be eradicated", Hongjoong says, holding his hand up and waving two fingers

Bullets fly by us, hitting all of the rival members

They all go down, some dead, others severely wounded

"You were stupid to think I didn't bring reinforcements", Hongjoong growls

I want to laugh at the leaders shocked and scared face

"How..."

"Snipers", Hongjoong shrugs, "You're an idiot if you didn't think I cased this place out first and thought of every possible scenario that could go wrong. And now your men are dead or dying. You're going to die. And we are going to eliminate your entire gang"

He pulls his gun out and shoots the leader in the kneecaps

He goes down, screaming like a little girl

To us Hongjoong nods, "Go"

Taking out my gun, I walk to the nearest guy to me and check him

Dead

Moving to the next one, he's groaning, holding onto his ribs

Raising my gun to his forehead, I pull the trigger, killing him

As we go around killing all the surviving men, Hongjoong says to the leader, "You should of just taken the money"

Then he shoots him in the head

"Fuck!", I hear San yell, a gun going off

I quickly turn to him, seeing him shoot down, his upper arm bleeding

"You good San?", Hongjoong asks

"Bastard shot me", he says, putting pressure on his arm in an attempt to stop the bleeding, "Flesh wound"

Sucks

"You get him?", Hongjoong asks

"Yeah"

Joanne appears next to San, taking her hoodie off and pressing it against his wound

"I'll fix your arm Sannie", she says

We don't use hospitals

And she is normally the one who fixes the guys when they get banged up

She did Hongjoong the favor and got trained as a nurse, so she knows what she's doing

For cuts, stitches, bruises, minor injuries, flesh bullet wounds, she fixes

Anything major like broken bones or body bullet wounds we go to a hospital and threaten the people there to keep quiet

"Thanks Jo"

"Yeah, let's get you back to Joong's house", she says

"Let's move out", Hongjoong calls

The rest of the guys come back towards us, Jongho dragging one of the rival members

"He's alive?", I ask

"Alive enough to answer questions", he says

We need one alive to tell us about his gangs hideouts and the inner workings of the gang so we can kill them all

No one crosses Hongjoong and ATEEZ

"Woo, drive Jo and San back to my house", Hongjoong orders, "Were going to the interrogation hideout. When she patches up San, all three of you come meet us"

I roll my eyes, keeping in a huff, nodding

As I walk to my car her and San are waiting at, I catch her glaring at me

"Let's go", I growl at her, unlocking my car, "And don't fucking get blood on my seats"

"He's bleeding you fucking idiot", she snaps, climbing in the back after San, "If blood drips deal with it"

"I don't want blood in my car", I snarl

"You can wash it out. Don't be a prick"

"You're such a bitch! It's a simple request. Don't get blood on the seat"

"You fuck-"

"Ok guys, can we go?", San interrupts, "Kinda in pain here"

"Yeah", I answer, remembering that yeah, he's hurt

Arguing with the witch isn't going to help him

Starting the car, I drive towards Hongjoong's house

--------------------------------

The music is loud in the club as I make my way to the bar

After San was patched up, we met Hongjoong and the rest of the guys

Jongho got information out of the rival member he tortured and we used that info to make a plan

Our gangs subunits are hitting all the hideouts as right now, killing everyone in them, essentially erasing that gang

We're on call in case we're needed but honestly we're good

Hongjoong inspires loyalty and everyone in the gang, from the low level drug dealers to us, his inner circle, are totally loyal to him

The low level ones are terrified to fuck him over

They should be

Hongjoong suggested we go to our favorite club to unwind and we all agreed

I'm on my way to get a drink, get shit faced and hopefully lucky

As I pass by the bathroom, it opens, someone walking right into me

I turn to glare at the person and seeing who it is my blood pressure rises

"Watch where you're fucking going!", I snarl at Joanne

"Oh fuck you", she snaps, rolling her eyes

"You walked into me you cunt!"

"Wah wah wah", she mocks

God, she just pushes all the wrong buttons, infuriating me

"You should apologize for being such a clumsy fuck!"

"How was I supposed to know your dumbass was standing by the door? Why are you hanging by the bathroom, you perv?"

My mouth drops momentarily at her stupidity, "I was walking by, idiot"

"Uh huh. Sure"

Oh that's it

I'm so done

"Do you ever shut up?", I snap

"Do you?", she snarls, "You're such a whiny little princess"

Princess?

Is she fucking kidding me?

"Fuck you!", I yell, getting so heated

"No fuck you!", she shouts back, glaring at me

I glare back at her, so much hate and anger running through me

And the next thing I know, I pull her to me, she comes willingly and her lips are against mine

Her kiss sends shivers down my spine, my head spinning and fire running in my veins

Goddamn she's a good kisser

Just as soon as we kiss, she's pushing me back, a look of disgust on her face

Yeah well I'm disgusted too

What the fuck is wrong with me?

"Fuck off!"

"No you fuck off!", I snarl

"Don't fucking kiss me you toad!"

"Toad? Thought I was a princess", I snap

"Yeah, a princess toad!"

"You sound like a five year old", I snort

"Shut up! You're fucking gross"

I gape at her, insulted, "I am not gross!"

I take painstaking steps to ensure I'm not gross, I'm groomed and always looking good

So fuck her

"You are! A dirty whore who fucks anything that walks"

Is she calling me a slut?

"I do not! I may make out with a lot of girls but I don't fuck them all!"

And I use condoms most of the time

"Yeah sure. I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole"

I snort, "You would be lucky to fuck me"

She laughs, "Right. Cause you're such a catch"

I am

When I'm in a relationship I give my girl all of me, love her unconditionally

She'd be fucking lucky to have me

"Too bad you would never find out. I'd never touch a wannabe bitch like you"

"Wannabe?", she growls

"Yeah", I spit, "You pretend your tough shit, pretend you're second in command when really you share that title with Seonghwa"

"I earned my title asshole"

"Yeah right,", I snort, "Teachers pet"

"Fuck you, you little prick!", she snarls in my face

"No fuck you", I roar

We glare hatefully at each other and in the next second, her lips are against mine again

I slide my tongue in her mouth, playing with hers as her arms move around my neck

Putting my hands on her hips, I push her back, opening the door to the single bathroom

Slamming and locking the door, I turn her, shoving her against the door, kissing her hungrily

"What are we doing?", she asks between kisses

"Don't think about it", I answer, not knowing what the fuck we're doing

"Ok", she says breathlessly

I move my hands down to her pants, starting to undo them

"Are you trying to fuck me?", she scoffs when she pulls away

"Oh just shut the fuck up and let me take your pants off"

She glares but says nods

"Good. Shut up and kiss me"

She growls but does what I say, her soft lips so good against mine

I get her jeans open and I shove them and her panties down at the same time

She kicks her sneakers off, then moves her legs through the jeans and panties, leaving them a heap on the floor

"Bet you suck at sex too", she snaps as I pick her up and shove her against the door, her legs wrapping around my waist, her arms around my neck

"Suck?", I scoff, "Please, you're going to be screaming my name in a minute"

She actually laughs, pissing me off more, "I seriously doubt that"

"Yeah we'll see", I growl, pulling my pants and boxers down

I'm not stopping to think how stupid this is

Or that I should definitely not do this

I'm ignoring that voice that's telling me to stop because I'm fucking horny

I hate to admit it but I really like her kisses and they turn me on

"We will see", she snarls as I align my cock to her hole

I thrust hard into her, bottoming out in one stroke, splitting her tiny cunt wide open

"Oh my god", we both cry

Holy shit, she's so fucking tight, clenching around me hard and so very wet, drenching me

My god, she feels fucking amazing

But I'm never telling her that or I won't hear the end of it

"Well you have a big cock, I'll give you that", she concedes

I smirk up at her

"Doesn't mean you know how to use it"

Snarling, I grip her ass hard as I pull back until just my head is in her pussy

"You'll see just how well I can use my cock", I snap, then slam back into her forcing her open around me

"Oh fff....", she trails off as I start railing her into the wall

I groan, feeling her pussy suck me in with each ram, like she wants to keep me inside her

I can feel every inch of her pussy impale on my dick, completely soaking my length and my lap

"So wet for my cock huh?", I smirk at her

"Don't flatter yourself", she moans, "It's a natural reaction"

"Oh?", I laugh, "It's a natural reaction for your pussy to drown my cock and douse my lap?"

"Shut up", she groans, pleasure all over her face, her body shivering against mine, her fingers bunching in my hair

"You're this drenched and I haven't even hit your spot yet"

"As if you could find it"

"Oh I can find it", I assure her

I roll my hips into her, plunging deeply

No, not there

I hike her legs up higher on me, shifting her around

Burying in her again, her body shivers and she yells out in bliss

I smirk, "Found it"

"Fffff...fuck you", she stammers as I hit her spot again

"Oh look", I mock, each thrust making my head hit her spot, "You're pussy gets wetter and wetter every time my head rubs you there. What was that about me not finding your spot?"

"Shut up", she roars

"Nope", I say gleefully, watching her tremble with every stroke

Her white shirt is clinging to her in sweat in all the best ways, showing off her big tits

Her hands move from my hair down to my chest, her hands unbuttoning my shirt one at a time

She gets it open, the air cool against my sweaty skin

She pushes it down my arms but I'm not letting her go to take it off, so I just let it hang

Her arms move around my neck again, her lips crashing into mine

I take her kiss eagerly, loving the chills that are running down my spine

I move faster into her, her pussy throbbing like crazy as her moans get louder and louder, her legs tightening around my waist

She's close

And I never wanted a girl to cum on me as much as I want her to

I want her to eat her words from before

"Cum on my cock", I pant, fucking her into the door

"Nnnn....no", she groans

I snap my eyes to hers, peering at her in disbelief through my sweaty hair

"What the fuck do you mean no?", I snarl, snapping my hips harder, smashing her spot

I watch her moan, her pussy clenching my cock like a vice grip

"No", she cries out, "I don't want to"

She's really fucking something else

She has the ability to piss me off during sex

That's a rare gift I wish she'd lose

"Yes you do", I growl, "You're squeezing my cock like you're trying to choke it, your pussy is drooling all over my dick, you want to cum"

"Fuck you", she snaps, her fingers digging into my shoulder, her other hand twisting in my hair, her pussy trying to unclench around me

I fucking had it

"Stop trying to force it back", I yell, thrusting into her with each word, "And. Finish. On. My. Cock. Now!"

Fucking into her once more, she screams as she falls into her orgasm

"Fuck! Wooyoung! I hate you!", she yells, pulling my hair so hard my head is pulled back, her pussy watering my cock like I've never felt before, throbbing like crazy, throwing my body into unbelievable pleasure

"Shit", I whisper, forcing myself to stay up, gripping her thighs hard

"I fucking hate you!", she cries, her body shaking, her face in pleasure as she keeps coming

"I fucking hate you", I snap

God, her orgasm feels so fucking good

That's just another thing to hate her for

I fuck her through it, wanting her to be in complete and utter pleasure because of me

Just to spite her

When she finishes, I pull out, putting her down, then spinning her around

I kick off my shoes, pants and boxers, then throw my shirt on the floor

Getting closer to her, I pull her shirt off her body, then undo her bra

Pulling her against me, her back to my chest, I snarl in her ear, "Open your legs"

She does, moving her hands against the wall as I slip back inside her, her pussy pulling me in so pleasurably

Moving my arms around her waist, I begin to move, getting a fast and hard pace going

It feels phenomenal

Pushing her hair to the side, I growl in her ear, "How does it feel to know you came on the cock of someone you hate?"

"Fuck you", she snarls, her body shaking with each plunge, betraying the pleasure she's in

"Uh uh. Not an answer", I say, burying inside her and grinding into her spot, "How did it feel? Don't lie"

"Stop"

"Just answer the fucking question"

God, can she stop being argumentive for a fucking second?

"It felt.....good", she says through clenches teeth

Pounding into her tight cunt, I press a kiss to her neck, smirking at the way her skin trembles under my lips

"Just good?", I ask, running my fingers softly up her stomach, between her boobs then back down

"Wooyoung-"

"Joanne!", I snap

"Fine! It was fucking amazing! The best orgasm I've had in a while!", she roars, "Happy"

"Extremely", I smirk

"I fucking loathe you"

"But you like my cock", I rub it in, pulling her head back against my shoulder, sliding my hands up her body and squeezing her boobs

She just grunts, the pretty wet sound of her pussy swallowing my cock so loud in the small bathroom

"Cum again", I whisper in her ear

"No!"

Can't she just fucking do something without an argument?

She liked it before, I'd think she'd want another one

But she's so goddamn stubborn

"You're gonna cum again", I snarl, pumping my cock inside her tight wet hole

"Fuck you"

I let out a frustrated cry and grab her neck, squeezing slightly

Her pussy gets so fucking tight, a moan coming from her

Well well, she likes being choked

That works out because I want to strangle her all the time

"You're going to cum on my cock again", I growl in her ear, "Your pussy is going to do what I say, when I say"

"I-"

"Shut up", I snarl, choking her lightly, her pussy getting impossibly tight, "Right now, I own your pussy. It does what I want. Do you hear me?"

I let go of her neck so she can answer but she just grunts

"Do you hear me?", I snap

"Yes!", she bellows

"Good. Cum"

I squeeze her neck as I thrust directly into her spot and she screams wordlessly, her body thrashing against mine as she orgasms

That same utter ecstasy I felt from her previous orgasm washes over me and I close my eyes, just basking in it

Forcing my orgasm back, I let go of her neck, her screams of my name shattering the silence as I let her ride it out on my cock

"Wooyoung! Wooyoung!"

God, I really like hearing her yell my name like this

I hate it when she says my name any other way though

Pushing her forward, I bend her over my arm, resuming my thrusts

Looking down, I gape at how utterly creamed up my cock is

There's a coat of cream all over and a thick ring at the base of my cock

God, I've never seen anything like it

And it's such a turn on

"Yeah you love my cock", I laugh, "If you could see how much you're creaming me, you couldn't argue"

She just grunts, her forehead against the wall

I watch the fascinating sight of her little hole spread open for my dick, straining the closer it gets to the base of my cock

Her hole is smeared in her cream and it's driving me insane

But I had her cream twice and there's something else I want

Moving my fingers to her clit, I play with it, rubbing quickly

"Fuck", she cries, more cream gushing from her hole

"You're gonna squirt", I murmur, rubbing her clit as I thrust, "You're creaming my cock so much and I fucking like seeing that but you need to squirt now"

"I....never....I don't think...."

"You never squirted?"

She shakes her head, her hips starting to move backwards, meeting my thrusts and taking me deeper than before

"Fuck", I whimper, "Yeah shit, fuck yourself on my cock. I'll make you squirt"

We move together, the sound of our skin slapping getting louder as we desperately fuck each other

"Oh god", she whimpers, her fingers scratching at the door, "So good. So fucking good"

I smirk, wondering if she knows what she's saying

I'm never letting her live this down

The next stroke has her pussy raining squirt around my dick, her screams of my name so pretty

I keep fucking her, so close myself

"I'm coming inside you", I grunt, as she finishes gushing all over the place

"You fuck-"

"Shut up", I yell, "I'm coming inside your cunt and you're going to take it"

She snarls but she doesn't say anything

"Ok?", I growl

I need her to agree

I'm not an asshole, if she really says no, I'll pull out

I'm not going to make her do something she doesn't want to

Not that I can anyway

If she doesn't want me to cum inside her her big fucking mouth will tell me

"Yes", she murmurs

"Yes what?"

"Wooyoung-"

"Say it", I urge her, so close

"Yes, come inside me!", she yells

"Is that what you want?", I moan, my body shaking hard from holding it back

"Yes! I want you to fill my pussy!", she cries

Ok then

Shoving my cock in to the hilt, I yell her name, euphoria tidal waving over me as I cum deep inside her

My fingers dig into her hips, holding her on my dick as her pussy milks me dry

Stars blast in my vision, it feels fucking amazing

Best orgasm I've ever had, hands down

But unlike her, I'm not dumb enough to tell her that

I pull out of her, watching my cum drip from her hole to her thighs

"Don't clean up", I order her, moving to grab my clothes, getting my shirt on

She glares at me hatefully, "What?"

"Keep my cum in your pussy", I clarify, picking up her panties and tossing them at her, "Let it drip out on your panties. I want you to feel me there the whole night. I want you to be reminded that you have the person you hate's cum leaking from your cunt, making a mess in your panties"

"I fucking hate you"

I roll my eyes, already knowing this

"Put your panties on now. Princess", I snap

She grumbles but she does like I ask, pulling her panties on

We dress in silence, then she heads for the door

"Don't fucking tell anyone", she snarls

"Oh I won't. I don't want anyone to know I banged the witch", I scoff

"Fuck you asshole"

Leaning down to her, I whisper in her ear, "The asshole who's cum is making a mess in your panties"

She huffs, despise in her eyes as she opens the door, the loud music crashing into the room

She immediately walks out, practically running to get away from me

I just smile, step out and continue my way to the bar

[watermelonsloth]

Ino Should’ve Been on the Sasuke Retrieval Mission, Not Neji

I realized something and if I don't say it, it’s gonna bother me.

In part 1, pretty much every member of the Konoha 12 can be split into two categories: those who take their jobs seriously and those who don’t. The first group are the characters with something to lose or, more often, prove who tend to be more skilled than their peers. It includes Naruto, Sasuke, Neji, Rock Lee, Hinata, and seemingly Shino (although we don’t know enough about him or his motives for me to say this with full confidence). The second group either has superficial or no known reason to have become ninja and for a variety of reasons don’t really take their jobs, training, or (in some cases) even winning or losing seriously. It includes Sakura, Shikamaru, Ino, Choji, and Kiba. The only one I didn’t place was TenTen because she doesn’t have enough of a presence for me to know which she falls under.

Along with the part 1 finale, the Sasuke Retrieval Arc also serves as a wake up call for the team of genin. The entire series was a slow burn of information about how unfair and dangerous the shinobi world is—bell test set up KIA’d shinobi and that everything was not as it seemed, land of waves set up shinobi being used as tools and team 7 realizing their personal priorities, chunin exams introduced that there were much bigger fish and how cruel the shinobi world is, and the search for Tsunade arc displayed what could become of the shinobi who grew up in this system—that built to the Sasuke retrieval mission being the wake up call that not only did they need to get serious, they needed to get serious now. I could write a whole essay on this arc and what it represents, but I’ll leave it at this: the Sasuke retrieval mission made Naruto realize that he didn’t understand Sasuke nearly as much as he thought he did and the rest of his team (-the backup) realize that if they didn’t start taking their job seriously, they’d get themselves or their friends killed.

Or… almost the rest of his team. Neji doesn’t actually fall into this category. As I already said, he already took his job seriously and he was already very aware about what happened to the powerless. I’d be more forgiving if it helped move his personal arc along more or at least did something else for his character, but it doesn’t. It’s just extra screen time. And as much as I like Neji, he really didn’t need to be a part of this arc (or at least not such a large part).

You know who did? Ino. She never actually got an “oh crap, my priorities out of whack” moment. She doesn’t take her job seriously during the chunin exams, she doesn’t really show up again until the very end of part 1 for a scene here and there, then we don’t see her ‘til shippuden where she’s suddenly taking her job seriously. Maybe you could argue that Choji nearly dying was her wake up call, but it would be a pretty flimsy one considering the only reaction she has is calm relief after finding out he’s okay. Everyone else got their wake up call—Sakura during her iconic forest of death scene and the boys during this arc—but she didn’t.

Now, as you might’ve guessed from the title, I think the most obvious solution to this problem is the best. By swapping them out, Neji isn’t acting as a noticeably unnecessary inclusion and Ino gets a proper moment of character growth (and badassery). As bonus points: I think Ino would have a more interesting dynamic with the rest of the team, Ino would have more emotional stakes in the mission through knowing Sasuke and Choji sacrificing himself prior to her fight, the audience could potentially get some actual insight into why Ino (and the other girls) like Sasuke so much, and both of Shikamaru’s teammates nearly dying on the first mission he led would be even more of a swift gut punch for him. Ino should’ve been on the Sasuke retrieval mission, not Neji.

[wayfind-er]

I really didn’t want it to come to this… but genuinely atheneum-of-you (the previous owner of acropolises) needs to stop. Some decisions of hers were criticized months ago, in a server she wasn’t part of, and she is still making posts about it. As a Priestess of Lord Hermes she should be stopping drama, not feeding into it. This was a whole thing on your tumblr a while back (which I appreciate, as you gave many people a voice), and I hesitated to bring it back onto here, but a lot of her content has become fuelled by hate, and it doesn’t look good that things like that are coming from her as a priestess. I think she has potential to be an amazing priestess, but she needs to get over herself.

Hi Anon!

You aren't the only person who has come to my ask box about her recent actions. Something new happens every month, and even beyond the grave, the Acropolises server continues to haunt me 😭

Since you are the first to ask, I'd like to reiterate some of my previous points:

My blog is not, and has never been, a place for hate.

I am all for people using my inbox as a shared vent box, but I ask that no one send any hate to atheneum-of-you in any capacity.

I genuinely believe everyone would be better off never interacting with her again, but I digress.

This blog has grown significantly since January, and I'm sure many people don't know what the Acropolises server is.

For context, the Acropolises was a HelPol server run by atheneum-of-you, a decently sized HelPol account run by Lottie, a Priestess of Hermes.

In January, I posted my opinion that the server was dangerous and that Lottie (Poppy at the time) could not be trusted. This quickly turned into me using my blog as a platform for others to anonymously voice their grievances with Lottie, her community, and the like.

Then, in February, Lottie deleted the entire server after a massive fallout with some of its most prominent members.

This was around when one of those members created a new server and reached out to me. I know that using my platform disturbed many people; however, I've talked with a good number of formerly active members of Acropolises, and I am pretty active in the new "splinter" servers that this community has created in the aftermath.

I actively participated in the conversation in which Lottie was criticized, and truthfully, seeing how this situation has devolved has been validating.

The conversation you're talking about was less about criticizing Lottie and more about people sharing their (often positive with a mix of negative) experiences with her and as members of her server. I include that to say that Lottie is not just a terrible person. There were and are likely still people who look up to her as a mentor and a role model within this community.

However, I feel that this needs to be known: I don't like Lottie, and I am not particularly subtle.

Lottie often misuses her title as Priestess. In Acropolises, she used her role as a "messenger of the Gods" to cause panic within her community (claiming the Gods are mad with specific people and then not clarifying).

She used the Gods to push her own narrative.

I've said it once and'll say it a thousand times again: Lottie is a bad influence on this community.

She parades around as an educator, a Priestess, and a messenger for the Divine. Do I think she has the potential to be a great Priestess? Not really. The Lottie I know is a liar and a manipulator; however, I would be remiss not to acknowledge the influence she has had on many people's practices.

When I consider my intention when platforming asks like this, I realize that they, too, are feeding into the drama (probably more than Lottie's not-so-subtle vague posting). That's something I will have to confront and deal with.

I cannot say whether these comments will get back to Lottie again (as the second time is rarely as effective as the first), but at the very least, I hope others become aware of her bad influence and stay away.

I already know there will be an influx of these types of asks, so be prepared for more. I cannot speak for every anon; however, many of these anonymous people are and were so much closer to Lottie than I ever was. While Lottie shows herself as a kind Priestess online, I hope this saga makes the collective HelPol community question the type of people they decide to let into their practice.

(photo censored since I don't want to dox her real face)

[indigovigilance]

Every single minisode is Aziraphale's memory, and why that's [not?] important

There is extensive meta-analysis, my own included, that Before the Beginning is a doctored memory resulting from erasure of Angel!Crowley, and that the trace of him that is left in Aziraphale's memory is the Starmaker, so that this is what we see at the opening of S2. With this foundation of "some scenes are altered memories," we can critically examine the minisodes and see that, in fact, they are ALL Aziraphale's memories that are potentially subject to doctoring.

Evidence (and exploration) below the cut:

A Companion to Owls

The largest part (S2E2 22:10 to 44:00) Book of Job flashback is book-ended by Aziraphale leaning over the physical Book of Job in his bookshop. We enter the memory when Aziraphale enters it, we leave it when he leaves it. Pretty straightforward.

The Ressurrectionists

Similarly, in S2E3, we begin the first flashback to 1827 with Aziraphale's "dear diary" entry. We flash out each time to Aziraphale: in the car to Edinburgh, getting out of the car at the Ressurrectionist Pub, and with Aziraphale staring up at the statue of Gabriel while standing in the graveyard in Edinburgh, respectively for each of the three flashbacks. This all strongly indicates that we've been in his memory.

Nazi Zombie Flesheaters

I didn't even notice until I was doing research for this that basically the entire episode takes place in 1941. From the end of the main title at 5:00 to 37:50, we never come out of the 1941 story. But what is interesting is what bookends this minisode.

Before the main title, Shax has tricked her way into Aziraphale's car and alludes to a time when a rumor started about our ineffable husbands:

Sometime in the last 80 or 90 years I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item. I didn't believe it then. Not really. Poor old Furfur.

And when we flash back to modern day, we first go to Hell with Shax proposing a full frontal assault on the bookshop, and then we get:

Aziraphale has arrived back in SOHO, and has spent the 8 hour drive reminiscing about what Shax alluded to.

But this part gets even weirder. Because the final line of the episode is:

You're really hosting the meeting? Absolutely! And I can guarantee you: it will be a night to remember!

What this means in context of the 3 memory sequence

This line has been taken by a lot of analysts as a reference to A Night to Remember by Walter Lord, a collection of first person accounts of passengers of the Titanic. Most notably, the thematic ties of this work to the cinematographic design of Good Omens are captured by this quote:

A key to Lord's method is his technique of adopting an unconventional approach to the chronology of the event, "[taking] an imaginative approach to time and space in which hours and minutes prove extremely malleable, the ship itself seems almost infinitely complex, and the disaster assumes order and unity from far away."

Which is an amazing connection, and probably true, in that it was a deliberate reference by the writers. "Malleability of time and space" describes well how this show is put together for us the viewer. But it also illustrates how Aziraphale experiences his relationship with Crowley; skipping over centuries at a time, while dwelling on and protracting intimate moments spent together, create a cohesive whole when viewed from a distance. That whole is their relationship. [Which is about to go down like an unsinkable ship.]

But absent the literary reference, we could even take this line for its literal meaning. Aziraphale is talking about forming new memories, after we have spent the last three episodes living in his memories of times with Crowley that were key to shaping their relationship. This isn't a S1E3-style series of allusions to a furtive, flirtatious, and organically blossoming intimacy; these are rough events where the two are shoved into moral quandaries and forced to make some really difficult decisions that bring them closer together and define "their side." These are core memories, and incredibly precious to Aziraphale. And now, after a few short days in which he has spent a lot of time ruminating on these intense memories, he is embarking upon the task of making another important memory, that is, dancing with Crowley.

Why We Care

Because memories can be altered, all of the information we get from these episodes is subject to a reliable narrator problem. As of the Gabriel trial, we know that memories can be doctored even when the person in question isn't present. Crowley knows that his memories have been removed or altered, and has put painful effort into retrieving them. Aziraphale may not realize that he has suffered the same fate. These memories that he holds so dear might not even be true.

Memory, Identity, and the Relevance of Fidelity

We would probably expect to get some "corrections" to these memories in S3, to see exactly what kind of manipulations our heroes suffered and what that reveals about the motivations of the perpetrators. That's how a paranormal mystery story with a memory manipulation element would normally proceed.

But it will be even more significant if we don't; it would speak to a philosophy-of-self that you are not the product of your objective past, but of what you remember, and so we don't get to know what actually happened because it doesn't matter to informing us about who Aziraphale is.

Aziraphale's love for Crowley springs from what he remembers about their shared past; it doesn't necessarily matter that the memories aren't true, because the love is.

~~~

I realize that I kinda buried the lead, so if you reblog, please tag appropriately? I'm taking suggestions.

If you want to read more on this topic, this meta by @ineffable-suffering is a good place to go.

[clonedchaos]

My Chaos Theory Season 2 Nonsensical Rambles! 🦖🦕

Okay, okay. This season was sooo good y’all! For those of you that have watched the season all the way through already, feel free to read. They’re just my comments, notes, and theories that I wrote down after watching each episode. It’s a whole lot of nonsense, really. THIS INCLUDES SPOILERS SO DO NOT READ BELOW THE CUT IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE ANY!!!

Happy JWCT Season 2 release day, too! 🎉 Happy Viewing! And thank you so much to our wonderful writers, animators, voice actors, and everyone in between who came together to make this absolutely phenomenal series come to life! I appreciate you all so very much for all your dedication towards a project that means the absolute world to me! ❤️💐 This season really tugged at the heart strings, and even got some tears out of me at the end. I want everyone to watch this beloved series spoiler free, so last warning— HEAVY SPOILERS AHEAD! I hope you all enjoy it just as much as me.

And again, thank you so so so much to the people who brought this amazing series to fruition. I’ve been struggling a lot lately, and this show— and its franchise— has really made the hard days in my life more bearable to overcome. It has helped me in many ways, and I just wanted you to know how much its meant to me (if they somehow see this). So… Thank you. 💐🌸🌺

🦕🦖 Camp Fam For Life! 🦖🦕

Episode 1:

KENJI WHAT THE HECK?! Why are you being so self sacrificing?! (I know why, but still) Painful to watch. The little spark of Yaz’s and Kenji’s old friendship is so cute, and I really hope she can help him work through this trauma more.

Okay, the beginning with Sammy and Yaz was so simple yet adorable. And the way Yaz wraps her arms around Sammy and pulls her close— STOP MY HEART! 😭🩷💜

Majungasaurus’s are cannibals in this franchise? I need to brush up on research for their species, but I’m just used to having a lot of them in one enclosure when playing Jurassic World Evolution. I’m glad they’re finally getting some spotlight, I’ve always had a soft spot for them. (Okay, I have a soft spot for every carnivore in this entire franchise but you know what I mean).

The lightning and animation was absolutely incredible, especially in the storm sequences. They did great at making the atmosphere fill you with a sense of dread as the characters were getting stalked at every turn. That one frame of Darius hiding behind a crate and holding up his phone towards the Majunga is a personal favorite of mine.

The fluffy moment of Darius, Ben, and Sammy trying to be the first to match a roar with its proper dinosaur was soooo cute. My favorite parts of this series have always been times when they can just relax and have fun— I’m a fluff enjoyer, what can I say? One thing this show really excels at is fostering a lovely friendship between the campers. Their interactions are always lovely.

Darius being the first one to reach out to Kenji and haul him from the boat… I’m glad they’re slowly reconnecting again.

Okay, LETS TALK about the Ben noticing Brooklynn thing. I feel like the DLN fumbled the bag in terms of keeping her a secret. Like… why did they have her in the video? If they’re using her for their own gain like I’m assuming, why would you want to give anyone the inkling that she could be alive? I guess they just didn’t think no one would notice? I mean, she’s the only one not wearing the mask in the photo.

Not Kenji making jokes about his deceased father… It’s in character for him, yes. But still… as his friends said: “Too soon.”

Episode 2:

I read the title “Marooned 5” as “Maroon 5”…

Already I love the new character. It’s really cute how Zayna’s friendship with the Gallimimus sort of mirrors Darius and his ties towards the same species. The Stegos also looked like they were protecting her when they sensed danger.

Sammy being the mama bear of the group now is so 🥺🥺. She’s still the cheerful, positive gal she always was, but I love how she’s matured as she’s grown up.

Kenji trolling Darius got a laugh out of me. Brothers will be brothers.

Suchomimus appreciation! I absolutely adore its patterning, it reminds me a lot of the African savanna’s. It’s ironic, given that Sucho’s were first discovered in Africa. I wonder if that’s merely coincidence, or maybe, just maybe, they’re being transported to continents that they would have lived on millions of years ago? Could it be the DLN’s doing? Or am I just looking into it too much? (Future Me here: Yes, you are)

KENJI WHY DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?!?!?! Bro literally squared up with a Suchomimus. Admire the bravery Kenj, but you’re making my anxiety worse, my guy. 😭😭

I really enjoyed the hints of cohabitation that was present in this episode. Humans gave the stegosaurus’s food, while the stegos offered them protection from predators. THIS is stuff I wanted to see in Jurassic World Dominion. I wanted to see HOW humans coexisted with these dinosaurs.

THE CONCEPT ART *chef’s kiss*

Episode 3:

Ah. We come to the episode a large part of the fandom has been waiting on… A Brooklynn backstory. Boy, was it a doozy. For starters, I didn’t know Brooklynn was a biker. Really hyping up that bad girl persona.

The campers keeping in touch on a zoom call makes this so much more upsetting. They still seemed very close up until Brooklynn died. Then, they just lost touch for a while.

I’ve started realizing I relate a lot to Brooklynn, especially in this episode. She’s overworked and “all over the place”. As someone who can sometimes put too much on her own shoulders, I 100% understand the level of stress she’s putting on herself. Not to mention she can be so caught up in one thing that she misses the actual moment in reality. It’s something I myself am working on; adhd doesn’t exactly help. But I definitely get where’s she’s coming from.

THE DARIUS CONFESSION STRESSED ME OUT HOLY CRAP— Like, the way Brooklynn inches away, Darius quickly tries to change the subject. Gods, it made me anxious just watching. I literally put my head in my hands and started mumbling to myself during the scene. (I’m slowly going insane 😭)

Seeing Brooklynn in pain and anguish once she realized how she lost her arm was heartbreaking. This was the time she needed her friends most. But for their safety in Brooklynn’s eyes, they couldn’t be there.

THE POOR COMPY WITH A CONE AROUND HIS NECK! 😭😭😭 No nibbling, he’s banished to cone jail!!!

So… the camp fam and Brooklynn’s dads came together for her funeral… I could have only imagined how rough that would’ve been. I’m honestly glad they didn’t show it, because I would’ve been balling uncontrollably for the next hour. And the fact that she was going to reveal her false death to her friends and family RIGHT before the DFW came in and screwed it up?!?! Ahhhh!!!!

THAT GUY?! WASN’T HE THE ONE WHO COULDN’T SHOOT A GUN IN SEASON 1?! AND SAMMY’S FARM WAS A SETUP, DID I HEAR THAT RIGHT?!?!?!?! (Someone please clarify, idk if he was talking about farms in general or if it meant Sammy, I forgot)

Episode 4:

Heck yeah! Malta! Crossing my fingers they show it in a later episode.

The small moment of Sammy watching Zayna and her mom… I NEED to know what went on between her and her parents.

Love the parallel between the opening of JW Dominion and Brooklynn’s escape at the farm. It’s a nice little throwback.

Dubai? Why Dubai? I absolutely love the mystery aspect, it’s like the more they reveal, the more questions are brought to the surface. The writers and everyone really went above and beyond this season.

Episode 5:

Sammy acting as the protective older sister of Zayna is so in character for her. “14 and 3/4. She’s still countin’ quarters, Kenj!”

Okay, I probably should’ve said this in an earlier episode, but Ronnie having the user Clever Girl just makes me so inexplicably happy.

SOYONA SANTOS?!?! AAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

WE’VE WON GUYS, WE’VE WON!!!! GUYS IM LOSING MY MIND AS IM TYPING THIS!!! IVE ALWAYS WANTED HER TO HAVE A BIGGER PART TO PLAY AND HOLY MOLY SHE DOES! OF COURSE SHES THE BROKER! HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS?!?!?! AND IT’S HER ACTUAL ACTRESS VOICING HER TOO!!!

*ahem* Anyways… I’ll try and keep my cool.

Soyona is artsy? She’s very demure, very mindful. In all actuality, I’ve always been very interested by her character. She’s very poised an elegant, yet calm and calculating at the same time. Her and Brooklynn having a sort of “chess match of wits” which was very entertaining to watch.

Well, Camp Fam, looks like we know where Red has been all this time. I wonder if Red is Soyona’s favorite of the pack, much like Blue is to Owen.

Poor Yaz having to share a boat with Kenji and Ben while they’re arguing like an old married couple. She’s such a mood, no wonder I kin her.

Episode 6:

Poor Ben. Why is everyone having panic attacks? 😭😭😭

I think it’s interesting how Yaz, whom is the most introverted of the 6, ends up being the peacekeeper in this season. She knows when her friends are hiding something, and she’s going back and forth trying to help everyone out all at once. Her and Brooklynn are pretty similar in that regard, I’ve noticed.

Sammy’s a vegetarian? I guess it makes sense given her love of animals.

OKAY THE HIPPO VS SUCHO SCENE?!?!?! THEY LEFT YAZ?!?! Nononono I’m panicking!!! SAMMY’S FACE WHEN SHE REALIZED!!! I’m so worried, she definitely must’ve gotten a concussion from that hit.

I really wanna know if Red would have attacked Soyona during her deal with Brooklynn. Every cut in film is directed with a purpose. If they’re showing you something, it’s meant with intent. Maybe it’s a coincidence they kept cutting toward Red and having her in the limelight between them, but was the Raptor debating having Brooklynn in charge of her? Maybe Atrociraptors aren’t THAT smart, but I’m curious to know. After all, it’s implied Soyona raised them with a personal connection. If Red is similar to Blue, would she had done it had Brooklynn asked?

Episode 7:

Sammy’s 100% in distress mode. She doesn’t care if what she’s doing is level headed, she just wants to protect her girlfriend. And honestly… I could blame her. If I were in her position, I would’ve reacted the same.

I know I’m supposed to be scared of the Suchomimus and all that, but… it looked so adorable when it was curled up!!! Darn it, carnivores can be cute too!!!

I love how Darius tries his best to talk to Zayna… with Sammy sitting right behind them. Like Darius she’s hearing EVERY WORD you say my man 😭. And Zayna’s RESPONSE and EXPRESSION! “Sammy’s girlfriend is by herself surrounded by killer dinosaurs. Why would I take anything she says personally?” 😐 She is very mature for her age, honestly.

Flying Pterosaurs… ITS ALWAYS THE FLYING PTEROSAURS THAT RUIN EVERYTHING!!!

More animals coexisting was fun. Well, coexisting as in Sucho’s eat hippos for a late night snack and Lions eat Dimorphodons for dinner. I’m sure it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, of course, but I really like how this series is giving us more of dinosaurs living among other animals and humans. As stated earlier, it barely got touched on in Dominion. THIS is the type of content I’ve been waiting for!

NAH THAT SUCHO SWIMMING SCENE WAS CREEPY—-

I love how Kenji immediately embraces Yaz. She just wants to hug her girlfriend and Sammy’s standing there straight faced like “…” And Yaz saying “I really wanna hug my girl right now.” 😭😭😭😭😭 YASAMMY DESERVES THE WORLD!!!

Episode 8:

YAZ HUGGING KENJI IM ABOUT TO CRY SO MUCH Y’ALL!

Darn it, I was hoping for an Indoraptor hidden in the lab. 😞 Wouldn’t have made sense, but hey, worth a shot. But what DOES make sense is how there got to be so many dinosaurs roaming around the world once Dominion rolled around. Of course they would try and clone new ones to maximize profits. There was only so many that got released post Fallen Kingdom.

The blind Baryonyx… all I can think about is giving it a hug. Poor little one is stuck down there, more than likely because Santos figured she couldn’t sell it. I wanna adopt them. :(

NO IM NOT READY FOR THE ARGUMENT I DONT WANNA SEE IT!!!!!!

Episode 9:

Ironic how creation… kills the creator. It’s honestly sad how he manipulated the baryonyx’s genes to remove its eyesight entirely. It’s nice to see a use of echolocation, however. The movies never get it quite right imo or just don’t bring it up ever.

Okay, Soyona’s “Trust is hard to come by” line makes me think… what if The Handler could have stolen some of the raptors from her? Sure, she hired a hit out for the campers and more than likely enlisted the Handler’s help. However, both of them have a deep connection with the raptors. Maybe Red was the only one who stayed by Soyona’s side? It’s a great stretch, but it just got me thinking.

Brooklynn needs evidence to send Santos to jail, right? But… she’s out doing stuff in Dominion. So either someone bails her out of jail, OR, Brooklynn fails… which one is it?

Episode 10:

WE MADE IT! Did I spend roughly 5-6 hours binge watching this for the entire day? Maybe. Do I feel like garbage for not getting out of bed? Umm… Kinda. (I’ll try to exercise, I promise…)

I WAS SO SCARED KENJI WAS ABOUT TO PUNCH BEN! DUDE WHAT?!?!?!

I love how the villains in this franchise aren’t just treating their Dino’s like the Indominus and Indoraptor were treated. Both the scientist and Soyona ended up forming bonds with their animals. AND WHAT WAS THE THING WITH RED?! HELLO? SHE CAN LITERALLY MIMIC NOISES?!?! THIS WAS LITERALLY MY FACE DURING THAT PART NO JOKE:

ITS SO CUTE BUT HORRIFYING?!?!?! ITS LITERALLY A PARALLEL OF THE INDOMINUS GETTING THE RAPTORS TO TURN AGAINST OWEN!!! RED IS BECOMING ONE OF MY FAVORITE DINOSAURS Y’ALL, I’M FREAKING OUT!!!!

I literally do not care how unbelievable of a scenario that would be. It was freaking cool!

That one frame of the Baryonyx in the dark hallway is so creepy… My sleep paralysis demon fr.

So… let’s talk about the end… Not only do I really really need a season 3, but I just… I don’t know… The moment Kenji grabbed Brooklynn’s hand before she headed into the jet is what prompted me to cry. Yes, I did cry, don’t judge me plz. 😭 “I’m not the Brooklynn you once knew”… NO! YOU ARE!!!! I was waiting, waiting for Brooklynn to ditch Soyona and embrace her friends, leaving the show off on a note where they have to stop her and Biosyn. But… Brooklynn left them. This entire season, I was waiting for them to be with one another again… All I can think about is- where do they go from here? Brooklynn has shown she’s willing to do whatever it takes to expose this mess, even if it meant abandoning her friends… So what’s going to happen when her friends follow her? How long can she keep this up?

[rei-ismyname]

Jean outs Bobby Drake part 2

It's a bit of a misleading title as Jean is mostly here for support, but this is a follow up to the younger Bobby being yanked out of the closet, and now it's older Bobby's turn. Huge intervention vibes.

'Sooo, we're gay. Right?'

Bobby 1 (the older one) is having a chuckle at Fabio Medina's codename when he finds Jean and Bobby 2 waiting for him in his room. Very little preamble here in this entirely unique situation. Bobby 2 straight up says 'I'm gay. Aren't you?' to Bobby 1. It's a lot more fraught than in part 1, because it means Bobby 1 has been closeted for a decade or two (or however the fuck long it's meant to be with the sliding timescale.)

It's definitely an awkward situation, but more 'written by a straight dude' awkward than anything else. I do like the single hard teardrop falling and Bobby 1's almost immediate acceptance. There isn't really a close real world analogue to this that I can think of - it's a good example of how the O5 change the present and their future by being here. There's also the unfortunate implication that Bobby needed to go back in the closet for however many years when they were mind wiped upon their return to their own time.

Bobby 1 confirms Bobby 2's theory about his sexual orientation being the easier minority status to put away. It's kinda awkward that Bobby has spent most of his life around nosy telepaths and Young Jean was the first to talk to him about it. Bobby has been aggressively performing heterosexuality since we first saw him in 1963, with varying degrees of success. Everyone's experience is different and being able to come out is a privilege. I wouldn't expect Marvel to go any deeper than this, like ripping off a Bandaid - but it would be nice.

The whole 'Angel being hot' thing is the epitome of the 'written by a straight dude' vibes, but both Bobbys use humour to break the ice, so to speak. It works as that, though it skirts close to the edge of the kind of thinking behind the 'gay panic' defence. I do like the mental hugs, though not wanting to touch gay men has plenty of fucked up real world antecedents.

With that, Bobby Drake was confirmed gay, something he'd been coded as for a while. His romantic and sexual life has been a mixed bag from this point, but it's had some strong moments of representation. I'd feel dishonest if I didn't point out that this wasn't exactly groundbreaking. I've seen it held up as an example of the X-Men's 'wokeness' but it's really only that compared to itself. I'm absolutely glad it happened and couldn't be undone but this was 2013-14. Late to the party by any measure. Also, I have a theory about why Young Jean was the first telepath to pick up on his repressed sexuality - a predestination paradox caused and resolved by time travel.

Considering that the O5 always came to the present and ended up returning without memory (and it's shown they did, with deviation leading to dark futures) then it's a predestination paradox and a closed time loop. Bobby came out with Jean pushing him, who then confronted his older self. They were forced to go back by Cable, who took extreme measures to ensure NOTHING changed history - hence the closed loop. He cut Warren's fire wings off and replaced them with those cut off Mimic, for example. On every level the X-Men had to go back and live their lives with zero changes from how they originally did. ZERO CHANGES. Once they got back Jean performed telepathic surgery on all of them, including herself, all based off Cable's precise instructions. Jean's mind-wiping was a complex thing and the X-Men of the present only received those memories once the time loop had been closed and they were the correct age. To make it work she would have had to push him so deep into the closet that he was incapable of remembering until the psychic trigger removed those memory blocks. That's why no other telepaths ever picked or Bobby himself picked up on it, because Jean had always put that psychic block there. Time travel made it impossible for events to happen any other way. I don't think it was written intentionally, but that's how time travel works in Marvel comics.

[blind-fic-exchange]

Blind Fic Exchange

What It Is: This is a monthly event inspired by the Blind Date with a Book events that are sometimes done in bookstores and libraries. The idea is to try something new, maybe something you wouldn't normally read, as well as getting to recommend some fics that you really like.

How It Works: On the 1st of every month, sign-ups will open for anyone interested in participating. Sign up by sending an ask that includes the maximum rating you want to read and a list of anything you are NOT interested in reading that month, e.g. certain categories of relationships, triggers, tropes, etc. (You don't have to explain your list at all, and your list can change from month to month if you want. You're not necessarily saying you would NEVER read a fic that includes those things, just that you don't want to this time. For example, if you've been reading a lot of whump lately and just want something soft and gentle, you could put "whump" and/or "angst" on the list.)

Sign-ups will close at 11:59 p.m. Central Time (UTC-6) on the 13th of every month. On the 14th, I will randomly match up names from the list and let everyone know who their partners are. (For now, the plan is to tell everyone secretly so it will be a surprise, but if a lot of people sign up, that may change ^^') At that point, you will pick three fics for your fic-reading partner to choose from, abiding by their list of what they don't want to read. Ideally, these will be fics that you have NOT written yourself. The point of this event is to share good stories with each other, not self-promotion. Send links to the three stories to your partner, along with a vague description for each that doesn't give away the title, category, or characters in it. For example: "two characters stave off boredom during a long trip" or "deathbed confession of love" or "a dragon slayer is saved by a dragon and has to rethink his entire life."

When you receive your selection of fics, pick one that sounds interesting, and enjoy!

Do's and Don'ts:

DO try to send your fic recommendations in a timely manner as soon as you find out who your partner is. There's no hard-and-fast deadline, other than the end of the month, but please be courteous and give your partner time to read it.

DON'T try to slip in something from your partner's list for any reason. Even if you think it's silly they asked for no fics with mentions of marshmallows, that doesn't make it okay to send them your favorite story about people sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows. If you end up reading someone's recommendation that has something you specifically asked not to be there, please feel free to reach out to me. Such violations will be dealt with on a case-by-case basis, because accidents happen, but do understand that if the determination is that it was deliberate, you WILL be blacklisted from participating in the future. This is supposed to be a fun event, so please don't jeopardize it.

DO remember to leave comments/kudos/etc. on the fic you read! Show some love to both the author and the person who recommended the fic!

DON'T hesitate to recommend a long chapterfic, nor feel obligated to read the whole thing in a certain time frame if you receive one. The general expectation should be that you will read at least the first chapter of whatever you're sent if you sign up for this event, but beyond that, it's up to you.

DO feel free to recommend incomplete fics (unless that goes against your person's preferences). We all know that one amazing fic that hasn't updated in five years, but is still worth a read. Just make sure you mention in your description that it's incomplete, in case that becomes a deciding factor.

That's all I can think of for now, but I may be adding to this later as things crop up. Please feel free to reach out with any questions, clarifications, or concerns! The official tag I'll be using will be #blind fic exchange