#your fave is from new jersey sorry :

[the-lonelyshepherd]

im sorry im stumbled upon your poll

can you explain from where the trans travis martinez comes?

or point me to the posts about that analysis

i just dont see it

you dont have to.do it if you think it'll bring the haters. thx

Hi! yeah um no worries i’m always happy to answer questions.

tldr in the words of @periwinklekryptonite

but if you want some more in depth personally for me it’s because of the themes of yellowjackets. it’s a story very much centered around girlhood, ESPECIALLY in the wilderness. 

(gonna be using she her for travis. for the sake of the post)

we start off with only three guys - javi, travis, ben (coach martinez immediately dies lmao)

lets look at each of their fates - javi? killed and eaten. ben? isolated, off in his own world and… probably going to be killed and eaten. but the outlier is none other than travis. why? she becomes part of the group. 

the wilderness is at its core a place where there’s a complete shift in power and gender dynamics. in early season one travis plays up this big though guy, something that she very clearly is not. and everyone can tell because it doesn’t work out in the slightest. similarly to ben, besides his hunting (and other stuff) trips with nat he’s relatively outcasted from the rest of the girls. it’s when we get into season two when things really start to change. after javis disappearance it’s a rough spiral for travis, out of the rigid social dynamics of wiskayok new fucking jersey and into the fluid and very female wilderness. 

i’m not like. a pioneer of this idea at all and it’s relatively new to me but it is something i thing is very very compelling and interesting and i do really think it makes sense. i do think @periwinklekryptonite’s (though introductory) write up is very very good and he’s writing more in the future i think so im going to add that here vvv

i’ve also written an analysis on that travlottienat scene in Edible Complex and i do talk a little more in depth about Travis’s relationship with femininity

AND EDITING TO ADD LIKE THE MOST INSANE AMAZING THING IVE EVER READ THAT JUST DROPPED LIKE TEN MIN AGO BY @cannibalizedyke GENUINELY JAW ON THE FLOOR

yeah it’s a headcanon but it works. pretty well imo and it would make a lot of sense narratively and is just overall fun. i love her :)

[percervall]

Ms Mar, my favourite list-maker, would love to know your thoughts about a liverpool Secret Santa exchange, since all we got for a Christmas video on best present was kinda boring lol.

who would get who, and what would they gift each other? 🤭

Okay, after messaging @curiousthyme to brainstorm we quickly discovered that this was accidentally sent on anon. oopsies 🤭 So thank you Ives for this brilliant ask!

In true teacher fashion, I used a name picker wheel to link players and then went from there. Some of them were just too good, honestly this wheel is a Liverpool girly

Putting them all under a read more because it's a long list

Lexi → Virgil - a personalised maté set, similarly to the one he gifted Ibou (whom I have seem to forgotten to include in this 😭 my poor petit)

Virgil → Alisson - a gift card for a spa day (+ a "we're sorry for fucking up so much" card signed by all our defenders)

Alisson → Wataru - a gift card for a local Japanese restaurant, for Endo to enjoy with his partner on a double date with Ali and his wife

Wataru → Pep - a new set of whiteboard markers and magnets shaped like football kit for all his tactical planning sessions

Pep → Cody - (like I said, this wheel was just being so kind to us) Pep would give him a Christmas ornament shaped like a Bossche bol (shout out to the 2 Dutchies who follow me and know what this is) to remind him of home

Cody → Lucho - seeing as Luis' partner is about to give birth to their second child, a mobile to hang over the cot. Maybe even Liverpool themed with tiny felt jerseys 🥰

Lucho → Joe - Joey would get a picture frame key chain so he can take his family with him wherever he goes

Joe → Ryan - A Scouse dictionary and an FC24 game but with Ryan's face photoshopped onto every player on the cover 🤭

Ryan → Joël - New shower curtains with Virg's face all over them to push the bromance agenda, and a friends mug

Joël → Darwin - A DVD set for friends to help him with his English and a little pin that says "chaos demon"

Darwin → Mo - A t-shirt with Darwin's cutie lil face as he says "thank you for support" + that photo in a frame. You know the one, where Darwin became Mo's bodyguard/sleep paralysis demon

Mo → Kostas - Some weights and a DVD on how to get abs + a t-shirt with a photo of Mo's abs printed on it in the meantime

Kostas → Thiago - (I told you the wheel is a Liverpool girly) Maui and Fuerte in cuddly toy form for their the new baby + a donation to Thiago's charity

Thiago → Domi - a beard care set, like one of those high end ones, and the game werewolves (iykyk)

Domi → Trent - (y'all, we were YELLING) a chain necklace "because that's what the girls like" + Hungarian schnapps/pálinka + a temporary tattoo of the CL trophy because his mum said no to the real one 🤭

Trent → Andy - (SCREAM) a BFF necklace, a Dua Lipa album, and his fave biscuits

Andy → Klopp - Andy would give Klopp the Scotsman treatment: full kilt + a set of bagpipes (bonus: Kloppo promising to wear the full get up when they win the league)

Klopp → Diogo - An annotated copy of Cruyff's book about football because Jots wants to go into coaching after his playing career

Diogo → Lexi - a personalised gaming chair with a maté holder, and a personalised game controller

This was so much fun, thanks babe!!

[hearts4golbach]

Light Shower. (Sal Fisher x Fem!Reader)

part 6

-

"I was cold, my past grew mold around my heart."

-

in New jersey, no one cared for valentines Day except for the 4th graders. exactly one week before Valentines, a Monday to be exact, I walked in from recess to see a wilted dandelion on my desk. I gingerly picked it up and looked around the class. I looked at sal, who just shrugged. what an amazing actor he was. I sat down, placing the bright yellow flower at the very top of my desk, and reached to get my math book. a piece of notebook paper fell out of my cubby hole. It was neatly folded and had a cute little cat with a messy heart drawn on it. I smiled and opened the note. the handwriting was messy but legible:

rozes are red, violets are blue. the sun shines bright, and so do u! :)

-secret admirer

the way the note was signed caught me off guard. I felt my stomach bubble with excitement. I couldn't wait to tell sal how I had a secret admirer, me! little did I know.

the short poems and silly little flowers kept coming all week without fail. with every gift, I became more anxious and excited to know who was responsible for this. cliche, I know.

I hid every note in my sock drawer, eventually collecting a small pile of 5 notes.

the next Monday, valentines Day, I walked into class to see the usual wilted flower in the middle of my desk. except, there was a tiny Hershey chocolate bar next to it. I dare say, that was my favorite valentines Day.

-

my heart yearned for sal, just like it had for so many years. except, it ached and screamed, making me want to sob. I wanted to run to sal and for him to kiss and hold me, just like he had. but I couldn't. everything changed. I was glued in my bed, once again. this never-ending cycle was exhausting, and I only knew one thing that'd help. I took the plastic baggie out of my shoe. everything was already crushed. I cried as I finished off the bag, feeling even worse for relapsing. I knew I'd forget eventually. I begged whatever God was out there to make it stop. yet, flashbacks and guilt kept hitting me, like they were in the same bed as I. I could feel Shawn's hands on my body. everything burned until it didn't. I stared up at the ceiling, my brain becoming TV static, and my body went numb. it was a choice between feeling everything or nothing, and I'd choose nothing over and over again.

when my parents had gone to work, I dragged myself out of the pool of sweat and tears that was my bed and grabbed a soda from the fridge. the cold fizz brought me a short-lived sense of relief, that maybe everything isn't so bad. but that was quickly interrupted by an eager knocking at the door. I rubbed my eyes, hoping I didn't look like I had just relapsed, fully knowing who was behind the door. I couldn't fave sal like this. i couldn't let him see me, not sober.

I held my breath, staring into his electric blue eyes, silently begging him to say something. "Y/n, I'm so sorry."

a feeling of actual relief washed over me. "sal, you have no reason to apologize for something like that." I mumbled.

"Y/n." his tone changed. "Can I come in?"

I nodded and stupidly enough led him to the room where all of the evidence was. my heart dropped when I saw the baggie and book still on my bed.

"Look, before you get mad..." Before I could finish my sentence, he pulled my in for a hug. I began to cry, and I felt a few of his tears seep through his mask, too. "I'm so sorry, I didn't have a choice."

"I know." I could hear the pain and sympathy in his voice. "I should've came sooner."

"Sal, it's not your fault." we laid in my bed. I nuzzled my head into his chest as he gently ran his fingers through my hair. he took off his mask and put it somewhere in my room.

"I really fucking like you." he whispered, breaking the silence. I looked up at him. I quickly pulled him in and connected our lips once more. I felt him smile, excitement and logning coursing through my views.

I pulled back. "I really fucking like you too." I mimicked. I watched his eyes light up.

"I was wondering if you'd wanna be my girlfriend. I'm sorry, I know you've been through some deep shit and-"

"sal," I cut him off, placing my hand on the side of his face. "I'd fucking love to. I want you more than anything. I trust you to be different, hell, I KNOW you're different." I sighed, the weight of the world finally off my chest.

-

sals POV:

Y/ns mom kicked me out, saying it was late and to go home. I laughed quietly as I walked out, like I hadn't stayed over for days at a time before. I went home and checked on dad, who was asleep in his work chair. i let out an exhausted sigh and made my way down to Larry and Lisa's apartment. I felt like I could smell his stench all the way from the 4th floor. I wandered down the hall to the apartment and walked in quietly, knowing Lisa was asleep. I walked into Larry's room and jumped onto his bed. "Hey, Lar Bear."

he groaned. "I was just about to sleep! and don't call me that, dude." he playfully punched my arm.

"me and Y/n are dating."

Larry looked at me, shocked. "finally! God damn."

"shhh! you're being loud."

he laughed. "my bad. its funny cuz I got a girlfriend today. some blonde bimbo, she's hot as fuuuck."

I rolled my eyes. "you really shouldn't talk about women like that."

he shrugged. "whatever."

[gaytotaldrama]

For the requests: maybe Brott? (Brick x Scott)

full disclosure: i haven't gotten to TDROTI in my rewatch yet (mid-TDWT rn) so if anyone seems OOC i apologize it's been a while since ive seen it!! but i think brott is a super cute pairing and brick has always been one of my faves from the newer casts so i hope you enjoy :)

also on my ao3!

Part of a soldier's duty is to keep alert, and notice the little things not everyone else does. Brick may not be top of the class, but he had to have gotten picked for the new season of Total Drama for a reason. And if he really wants a shot at the money, it's probably best to start strategizing before the game even begins.

Which is why Brick starts people-watching as soon as he boards the boat to the island, so he can get a head start on sizing up the - somewhat intimidating - competition.

The most obvious threats, he checks out first. The girl in the grey tracksuit is clearly super athletic, as is the guy in the jersey he's pretty sure is named Lightning. Loud, both of them, but probably also headstrong. Easy to anger. Brick's known plenty like that over the course of his years of training. They'll be ones to watch out for, for sure.

The big guy is quiet - really quiet - and Brick's positive he's got to be secretly housing some mad brains up there. The small kid with the glasses won't get anywhere in the physical challenges, but in Brick's experience, those types of people can serve up a truly merciless smackdown of intelligence. Brick wouldn't call himself dumb, but he's never exactly been an Einstein - watch out for them, too.

Zoey is sweet - she'd introduced herself to Brick near the top of the boat ride, obviously eager to get to know her fellow competitors - and therefore not much cause for concern. Ditto Mike, who seems both nervous and excited, and ultimately, non-threatening. Dakota (and he knows her name is Dakota, because she'd loudly announced herself as she'd sashayed on board) is caught up in her own glossy glamorous self, the curly-haired guy too wrapped up in his video games to give Brick cause for much worry. The Italian girl is a little scary (not that Brick's afraid or anything, haha) and the small kid in the green sweater has done nothing but meditate this whole time. Yeah, they shouldn't be a problem.

Neither is the loud girl in the pink jacket. Brick never caught her name - he's sure she introduced herself, but she's been talking the ear off of everyone non-stop and in all that prattle, none of it seems to actually hold any merit. And Brick would know a thing or two about merit, yes sir!

Chatty Cathy's current victim appears to be the only other remaining contestant - looks like your classic Nova Scotian farm boy, chopped red hair, threadbare wifebeater, unimpressed look on his face. Brick doesn't know his name, or his deal - strength from years of outdoor chores? Some hidden smarts no one would assume of him? Brick has no idea. Come to think of it, Brick's not even sure he's heard the guy say a word. Not that it's in any way easy to get a sentence in edgewise with pink jacket girl around, of course - had she said her name was Tracey? Sarah?

"What are you staring at, buzzcut?"

Brick instantly straightens his spine, standing at attention, embarrassed to have been caught looking at the farm boy. "Nothing. I wasn't staring at anything."

"Uh, yeah, you totally were," says pink jacket. "It was so obvious! By the way, did you know that my great-great-great-great-great uncle Gordon first coined the term obvious wayyyyyy back in - "

"Put a sock in it," farm guy mutters, and strangely, she seems to listen to him. He diverts his attention back to Brick, advancing on him like some sort of terrifying jungle cat. "Trying to size up the competition?" He sniffs, thin lips curled into a sneer. "All you need to know about me is that I'm gonna kick your sorry ass off this island."

Brick stands his ground. "With all due respect, you don't know that for certain. Mr....?"

"Scott." He grabs a hold of the front of Brick's shirt, pulling him in close and oh no, he's hot, and whoa, he's got freckles like everywhere. "I'll make sure you won't forget it, private."

And with one last withering glare, he lets go of Brick and stomps away.

"Wow." In all that had just happened, Brick had forgotten Staci (!!) entirely, but she's throwing an arm around his shoulder now in what she likely thinks is a comforting manner. "That guy is gonna eat you alive! Speaking of cannibals, my cousin's sister's dog's landlord totally eats people! Chris would probably love to have him on the show, yah, he's a total maniac but I bet he'd be great for ratings, ya know? Ya know, my great-great-great-great - "

But Brick isn't listening to a word. He's staring down at his shirt, positive he can see the imprint of Scott's fingers seared into the fabric there, because why else would Brick have burned the way he did when Scott touched him?

[echoweaver]

15 Questions from Mutuals

@oasislandingresident, @hazely-sims, @danjaley, @anamoon63, and @olomayasims tagged me in this meme. This is the first time I’ve been able to actually do it! Thanks. I feel loved. It feels good to be included.

​ Are you named after anyone? My great-grandmother, father’s father’s mother. She and my great-grandfather were immigrants from Hungary. I have have a picture of her holding me as an infant. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know her.

When was the last time you cried? I cry all the dang time. I find it more notable when I haven’t cried recently -- when putting our cats down, despite me being the one person in the family who was tracking their health in detail and really worrying about their quality of life. I’m also the one who made the call and coordinated the final vet visit. There’s stuff in there about my personality that I’m pondering.

I guess the last time I really cried it out was over gender politics, if you would believe it. My wife is trans. The horrible state of conservative oppression toward trans people right now is terrifying. OTOH, I think that enemy has led trans advocacy to be less nuanced rather than more. The complex landscape of gender, sex, and safety is often trivialized, and people get hurt. When I can’t jump on the bandwagon, I feel like a traitor to my wife. I wish there could be more thoughtfulness and compassion and nuance, but with the wave of vicious anti-trans laws and rhetoric, I appreciate why it doesn’t feel like there’s space for it.

Do you have kids? One bio-daughter, age 12. We wanted to have another and couldn’t. Then we tried to adopt from foster care, which ended up being a miserable 5-year rabbithole that led nowhere. OTOH, we have a found-daughter who entered our life through the side door as our girl’s babysitter when she was young. It’s an odd family, and we’re still figuring it out, but it’s ours.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? I think of myself as fairly snarky, but actually sarcasm not that much.

What sports do you play/have you played? I got into really physical stuff late-ish, close to 30. I got into weight-lifting and cardio rhythm games. No team stuff. Later, I took up figure skating when my kid was 4 and taking lessons. I love it. I think I could have been really good if I’d found it when I was younger, but I’m very YOLO about this stuff. If I’m going to be a figure skater in middle age, so be it. Convenient classes for adults were canceled during the pandemic, though, and I haven’t built up the momentum to return. I’m settling for a lower-hanging fruit at the moment and taking up Tai Chi.

What’s the first thing you notice about other people? I don’t know exactly what it is, but I get a sense of how easy it is to relax around someone.

Scary movies or happy endings? Those aren’t mutually exclusive. I like being scared, but not so much the jump-scare, blood-and-gore way. Definitely happy endings though. I’m only much into dark endings when my life is stress-free, and I don’t remember when that last happened.

Any special talents? I’m good at looking at a problem from all angles. I think this is objectively a good thing, but it’s also a pain in the butt because I can’t turn it off.

Where were you born? New Jersey, USA. Grew up in Indiana, just north of Indianapolis.

What are your hobbies? Dur. I knit, edit movies, mod video games, write fiction (sims and other), scuba dive, play board games, downhill ski, do amateur carpentry. I did some glassblowing in my 20s, and I’m finally getting a chance to take lessons! I do not specialize well. I also played the viola as a serious amateur. I bought a guitar and am going to try to learn to play so that I can sing and accompany myself.

Do you have any pets? One cat, down from 3 cats. Also one corn snake.

How tall are you? 5′4″ or 162 cm.

Fave subject in school? History, I think?

Dream job? I’m not sure all the stuff I’d want to do in a career can be digested down to 1 job. I’m pretty close to it at the moment, though. I write educational software on a small very family-like team at a university. Sometimes I fantasize about quitting and doing something with game modding that could somehow be profitable, but I’m sure if that were actually possible, I’d end up hating it because my hobby would then be my job.

Eye color? I have the exact eye color @zosa95 described in her reply to this meme.

It feels good to be tagged, but I still have this weirdo anxiety about tagging people. Plus this has mostly made the rounds. I’ll try @withlovefromayre, @declaration-of-dramas

[hearteyesmcgarrett]

is it weird to just answer the ask meme questions without actual asks? probably, but i want to yell about fandom shit rn so you can't stop me

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. its obvious that im in a grimm fixation rn, so i have to say nick/monroe as a romantic ship (or nick/monroe/rosalee), and the whole gang as a platonic relationship. For SGA, i'm always a mcshep fan but i honestly enjoy any pairing of AR1. Anyone that has followed me for an extended period of time knows that im a mcdanno (H50) and leverage ot3 truther as well.

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind. hmm, not sure? OH some folks doing the sga kinkmeme have mentioned john/cam and im very intrigued

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will. Rodney/Jennifer :( I love Jennifer, but the writers consistently changed her characterization and that relationship felt forced and weird (SGA)

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t. John/Elizabeth. I'm sorry! maybe its just because im gay af but to me their relationship felt like bffs, not romantic (SGA)

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what? I made that stargate cinnamon roll meme, if that counts

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom? ~10 years

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it? i'm a multishipper for sure, but one of the first ships i remember really clearly was eric/ryan from csi miami (circa age like 12)

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)? TV!

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why? I dont know that it was entirely tumblr, but yeah, Voltron. The fandom was truly fucking awful

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.) uhhhh, like every show tbh. 99% of the shows i watch came from tumblr or online friends

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc? Eliot Spencer (Leverage)

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. hmm, I guess Adalind counts as a character who isnt one of my faves. She's a complex and interesting character, and its clear that a lot of her decisions come from a place of trauma. After having Diana it really shows that she does want to protect her and keep her safe (grimm)

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend. Ronon (SGA), Hardison (Leverage), Teal'c (SG1), etc

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom 1. men showing emotions!!! (grimm does this well, thankfully) 2. on a similar note: depicting how the shit these characters get up to is traumatizing and how that impacts them long term 3. literally any canon queer rep. can we PLEASE have a show like stargate or grimm where one of the characters (especially a man) is canonically queer? is that so hard???

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of? Forfeit by Rise Against always makes me think of ascended Daniel/Jack (SG1). Oh and ever since i saw a gifset with lyrics from it, Timberwolves at New Jersey by Taking Back Sunday makes me think of John (SGA)

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas). one of these fuckin days i am going to write a baseball SGA AU

Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why. As previously mentioned: Voltron because the fan base was toxic and awful

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom? all my favorite fandoms are themed around found family so this is so hard lmao. Nick & Hank (Grimm), Eliot & Harry (Leverage Redemption), Harry & Breanna (LR), Don & Charlie if brothers count (Numb3rs), etc

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon anyone who reads my H50 fics knows that i will fuckin die on the hill that Danny has an anxiety disorder

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?  besides anxious danny, I'd say John having ADHD (SGA), and Monroe being bi (Grimm) are two right off the top of my head

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites 1. Steve McGarrett (H50) - he's been through so much shit, but he's still so damn loyal and protective and kind. He's such a good dude who is just traumatized beyond belief. 2. Charlie Eppes (Numb3rs) - besides the fact that i am CONVINCED he has ADHD, he's just so fucking loving and passionate about his work and the people he loves. he balances out the hardness of Don and the gang with the sheer size of his heart 3. Eliot Spencer (Leverage) - basically the same reason as steve. I have a type.

V - Which character do you relate to most? this is tough. probably Daniel (SG1) - esp early seasons - because of similar worldviews and interests and personalities, and Danny (H50) because of similar personalities

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom. MISCOMMUNICATION!! its so frustrating.

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom. im a big ol softie so i love stuff like mutual pining, hurt/comfort, etc.

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms Good Omens is a big one rn lmao. I've read the book but haven't watched the show. Also, Daredevil probably. I watched at least the first season years ago, but haven't seen anything beyond that. I still enjoy seeing people's posts about it and i read fic sometimes

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! im so cranky rn about the lack of depiction of trauma/mental illness/neurodivergence/etc in fandoms where its to be expected. like with Grimm rn, you give Nick PTSD and sensory enhancements but then suddenly forget about them?? that's not how that works! Or why is it always just hinted at that characters are ND? why is it so hard to just be like 'yeah no x has ADHD (or whatever)'? i want to be able to actually have complex/tough/interesting/etc protags that are ALSO neurodiverse. if we're all reading John as having ADHD (SGA) or Parker being autistic (leverage) anyways, why can't these things just be intentionally part of the character

[hangmanbradshaw]

I’ve been a giants fan since childhood and am watching them now for the first time in years and instead of childhood memories I’m just getting Jake/Bradley vibes and it’s great. Also watching jones at QB and you truly picked the best one to replace in the AU world😭 you might have answered this already but how did you end up picking the Giants for Jake? It is the perfect franchise for your story and I’m curious

omg I'm sorry that game was such a rough one to tune into, BUT I love that so much? The Giants are forever associated to Jake/Bradley in my mind, and it really adds a little something something to watching them, don't ya think? Makes me feel like I'm in my fic haha

The whole game I was like someone put Glen in a damn jersey and throw his ass on the field. Jake needs to save them from Jones.

I LOVE this question. Okay...sooooo I thought about doing my fave team but I know myself and there's no way I could have been normal about that hahaha also I know it's fiction, but I wasn't going to replace Mahomes. Couldn't do it. So I was thinking, and I knew I wanted to do a big market team in a big city for story sake, there were certain teams I refused to do (LA...) because of my own personal feelings towards them, and I wanted somewhere progressive enough that he'd be supported, and New York fit perfectly in my mind. The celebrity of NYC, the Giants are such a historic franchise, Bradley could have his little new york chef moment, Mav would be there as a big sports agent, Ice for the NFL headquarters which are there, etc etc. I love their vibe, colors, and I'm familiar with NYC so it seemed perfect in my mind? I really do think it was the perfect choice and I'm glad you agree! Just felt right once I started brainstorming.

[groovytimes]

Oh it's so nice to find someone who loves the Sopranos, not many people on this site know it unfortunately..can you talk about the things you loved? Favourite season, episode, character/actor? What you thought of the ending and where the characters ended up?

Aw sweet! Glad to hear from someone who also loved the show. I rarely get anons to discuss film or tv series, so you've just made my day!

Full disclosure, I haven't finished it yet. I'm still six episodes away, but I already know mostly how it's going to end; I watched the last few minutes of the finale when it aired back in 2007. And yes, people did talk about it in my high school the next day and I was glad I tuned in for that. I didn't watch the show then because I was too young and not interested, but I lived in New Jersey around that time and the show and its huge success was something the state and the city I lived in was proud of (and you would hear sometimes about them shooting a scene somewhere near). I liked the ending then and now; Tony’s luck was going to run out one day, and we didn't need to see it. No one can cause that much carnage and destruction and get away with it, even he knew it from the day of his first panic attack. The people who didn't like it obviously weren't paying attention to the brilliant writing and James Gandolfini's masterful acting skills (rest in peace, king).

I love how Tony is obviously a morally flawed human being and is affected by his actions. He's not someone we should cheer for, but we silently hope for him because we want him to be the good man he has shown he can be (look how loyal he is to his family, even to his mother and uncle, for better and worse). Take his depression, anxiety and the intergenerational trauma; his mind and body can barely take it anymore, and although his sessions with Dr. Melfi do work, he is doomed to the life he was born into. It's a tragedy, in some ways. He is the definite definition of the word anti-hero. Even Carmela, whom I love, knows exactly what her husband is up to and how the glamorous lifestyle she loves is achieved and she wilfully turns a blind eye until it literally comes into her home, the only place in the world she has any real say and control (the breakup in season 4 and 5 have some of my favorite episodes). And his fellow goons who are part of that notorious subculture are pretty clear that they love the goodies the life of all that crime gets for them, conscience be damned.

My favorite characters are Tony, Carmela, Dr. Melfi, Johnny Sack, Corrado Soprano, and sometimes Paulie when he's not being a full blown sociopath. These characters are fully written and fleshed out, your favorite skips from the episodes you watch (like one week, Adriana is my fave, the next Bobby, etc.). The success of this show is because of how these characters were written with their motivations and intent made subtly clear, and we get to see how it ruins their lives. No one gets a happily ever after here.

Favorite seasons are the first (talk about starting with a bang!) and the third, and so far the 5th. Maybe the sixth when I finish it, but I also liked the episodes when Tony and Carmela were separated, because I seriously wanted that for her.

Sorry for the long and rambling response, but this was such a treat for me and I hope some parts make sense. Thank you!

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Six

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

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

WC: 15k

Chapter Warnings: believe it or not there's fluff in here. very very cute scenes I have to say. but obviously encompassed by angst. a fluff sandwich with angsty bread if you will. and the butter is nico's continuous pining. luke being the ultimate girls girl, wise beyond his years god bless him, the rest of the boys being soft, Nico's family being endearing, and then here we go!!! mentions of vomiting and food aversion, mentions of pregnancy & early pregnancy symptoms, I want to say there's mentions of drowning I remember thinking of the imagery and I can't remember how detailed I went with it sorry! it isn't actual drowning just like a metaphor of sorts. mentions of the birth control patch if you've ever had it you KNOW that needs a full trigger warning whoever came up with that deserves jail it's hell it's horror!! and mentions of poor parental relationships.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Five)

A/N: potentially fun fact the last scene in this chapter is maybe the second thing I ever wrote for this fic!! like as a concept/idea it was one of the earliest scenes in my head and it's one of my faves!! I've been dying to get to this part to flesh it out and figure out how to build to it and I'm really happy with how it turned out!! writing for families of real people is such an odd concept but I really like the differences in their parents lmao it's fun to write and compare the dynamics obviously it goes without saying I do not know these people lmao

I know the last chapter broke a couple hearts so I'll leave you guys to crack on! as always, never proofread, and as always, would love to hear your thoughts and opinions!!! all the love in my heart to anyone who messaged me this last week on anon or not or private or whatever it may be I appreciate you so much yous have been so so kind to me and it means the world 💖

Nico

If anyone were to ever ask Nico what his favourite trait of Poppy’s is, he knows for a fact he would not be able to narrow it down. She’s a culmination of all things good, has been from the day he met her, and even the things he shouldn’t like about her, he loves.

He shouldn’t like that she’s sarcastic, quick-witted - scarily so - and sometimes says things before she has the chance to properly think about them or any problems they may cause her. He remembers his first couple of years in Jersey, when he was one of the more junior players on the team, still considered new to the country and the culture, and a lot of people had underestimated how familiar he was speaking English despite his years playing in Canada and growing up learning multiple languages. They would often default to explaining things like he wouldn’t understand, like common terms or jokes told amongst a group - and he, being too polite to correct them, had always ended up feeling like an idiot for it. 

There had been one instance prepping for a media day, where he had only met Poppy once a week or so before, and she had been prepping him to be on camera, clipping his mic pack and checking the settings. 

One of the other media staff, a guy called Liam who was in his second year where Poppy was in her first and had been the one she had to initially shadow, had cracked some misogynistic joke to her about how she was messing around with controls she didn’t understand just to be able to stand closer to Nico, as if he wasn’t right there or couldn’t hear him - and then when he had seen Nico’s furrowed brow and downturned lips, had assumed he didn’t understand the joke because he hadn’t laughed.

“It’s because she thinks you’re hot!” The guy had obnoxiously enunciated every word, capturing the attention of some of the more senior assistants in the room who had rolled their eyes just as hard as Nico had.

“He’s from Europe, Liam, not Jupiter. You don’t have to speak to him like he’s some alien.” Poppy had shook her head, caring so little about the fact that Liam had seniority over her, fitting the pack into Nico’s back pocket without him even feeling it, “He understands your slimy little jokes, he just doesn’t find you funny. Nobody does.”

Nico shouldn’t have liked her speaking on his behalf as much as he did, coming to his defence with her sharp tongue and cold glare, but no one had ever picked up on how uncomfortable that kind of thing made him before. The stupid jokes and the belittling tone Liam had used toward him. Poppy saw through both.

And all of her good is even better.

Poppy is positive. He has never seen her leave a room without having caused at least one smile or laugh. She’s someone he’s seen most of the guys perk up around, seek her out for help or even mundane conversation just to lighten the load, and he knows he’ll never be able to keep track of all the times he’s gone to her for a pick me up over the years.

She’s generous. Generous with her time when it comes to her friends, always making sure to maintain plans even when she’s at her busiest. When it comes to her work, staying late to help out a colleague or finish a project so it isn’t left to the last minute. With her knowledge and experience, always there for new members of staff or additions to the team to show them all her favourite spots in the area and get them up to speed with their role.

She is patient - waits around for him when he gets stuck doing media, or held behind to see the physio, and she never complains. She’ll never watch an episode of a show they start together without him, despite the fact his schedule doesn’t often allow for him to stay up late catching up, and she doesn’t moan when she gets spoiled if it’s something that comes out weekly and ends up being a hot topic in the office, doesn’t even spoil it for him out of spite. She even pauses the tv as soon as she notices he’s fallen asleep, and she’ll busy herself doing something else until she feels like he’s rested enough to drive home. 

And, above all, she’s forgiving. If someone were to push for an answer, and they were to have done so before this whole mess happened, he probably would have said that was his favourite thing. It’s like her superpower - to be able to understand things from a different perspective without judgement or a major confrontation. It’s like her default process is to give people grace and make things easy, even if they aren’t entirely deserving of that way out.

She had done so with Nico, that night up on the roof. He hadn’t deserved her leniency, not entirely. He had expected he would have to grovel and beg, and he had been more than willing to do so, but she had wanted to avoid further heartache for the both of them, and had decided to move on. 

And sure, she hadn’t technically forgiven him at that point for the way he had treated her, not properly, but she had put him on the path to redemption, and had made it clear what was expected to make it all the way there.

She’d gone easy on him, in spite of how much he had hurt her. She’d been patient with his reasoning, generous with her time, and had done so with an affectionate glint in her eyes that even now makes his heart warm to think about.

It’s the same glint she’d had when she’d come out of that elevator and had seen him by her door. He’d watched her take him in, eyes cast over him in a concerned assessment, and he knew then that no matter what he said, no matter how he explained what had led him to leave her that morning without a word, she would have forgiven him.

She would have found some way to rationalise what he had done, and put how it made her feel to the side in the name of moving on.

And he had seen his life flash before his eyes. 

Nights of coming home to her, muscles weak, brain fogged, and she’d give him that same look and accept what little he had to offer her. She’d be patient, she’d be forgiving. She wouldn’t get mad that he didn’t have time to take her on dates or trips, wouldn’t bite back when he got snappy after a couple of successive losses and let his frustrations come between them, would resign herself to those little parts of him she’d get to herself in the summer, when he wasn’t training or travelling or trying to fit everyone else in, and would swallow down the longing for something more because she loved him. 

And he couldn’t subject her to that, no matter how much she tried to fight him on it, or tried to call him out. 

No matter how much he wanted to be better for her, how much he wanted her to change his mind, the one quality he loved so much was going to be their demise, and so he had relied on it to cling on to the one thing he can give her.

Friendship.

Even if she won’t accept it for a while. Even if she wants to tell him to leave, and to ignore his texts, and his calls, and his efforts to bump into her at work, she has to forgive him. It’s who she is. 

She’ll forgive him and they can be friends.

Eventually.

And so with the weight of her bracelet in his pocket the whole walk home that night, Nico had decided that he could take a leaf out of Poppy’s book. 

He could be patient while she came to terms with what he had done. He could be generous with the space she needed. He could be positive and push down the bubbling doubt that she’ll forgive him at all.

—

Space happens to be the one thing Nico struggles with the most when it comes to Poppy. Especially conceptualised in the way that it has become - because he can’t physically give her space, they work in the same building. They share the same friends, they end up in the same rooms, and his resolve is as weak as ever where she is concerned, especially when she’s so close, so his generosity ends up being the trait that wains first.

He will give it to himself, he has been trying. He hasn’t been texting her as much as he wants to, understanding that bombarding her with begging and pleading is not only pathetic, but could also be considered harassment. And that will do him no favours in trying to earn back her favour.

But the other night he had been up on the roof after a long day, the air cold but the evening nice, and as he looked out across the Hudson, he had remembered how Poppy had once said her favourite time of the day, and her favourite thing about where she lives, was getting to see the sunset. 

On the early winter evenings, when she’d not long gotten home from work, she liked looking out her window and basking in what she had called cotton candy skies. Swirls of pinks and greyish purples behind the rows of skyscrapers on the other side of the river, all of which reflected the lowering sun in a glimmering, golden glow. He had taken a picture and sent it straight over with the thought that she might be missing it, and he just wanted to let her know. 

Even avoiding him, even wanting space, he was hoping she would at least appreciate that.

The sentiment attached to the picture had read, Just in case you don’t catch this yourself. And as he periodically checked his phone for the rest of the night, he had realised she had probably turned her read receipts off.

At least she hadn’t blocked him.

Nico had, however, started to get creative when it came to work.

Unable to stifle the need to check up on her, or to make sure something happened to brighten her day, he had taken to recruiting the rest of the guys to help.

He should have known how easy it would be, his first enlistment being Jack, who he knew would visit Poppy often, anyway. Only, now he did so with a drink in hand. Peach iced tea if his trip to her office was anytime after lunch, and a hot chai with oat milk if it was before. Nico had initially suggested snacks, but Jack had ended up eating them, himself, which turned out to be useful when it came to bribing him for information.

According to Jack, she was doing okay. Cracking jokes, rolling her eyes at the stupid nicknames he would come up with, and overall she seemed like her normal self. No signs of insurmountable heartache - not Jack’s words, but his own deduction.

He had been surprised at the lack of questions from him, but Jack knows when not to push something, so maybe he had decided to go easy on Nico for now.

Timo had been making sure she was breaking for lunch, checking in every few days so it wasn’t obvious.

John and Bass had taken to calling dumb jokes out to her every time they saw her in the halls, just to make her crack.

Curtis and Dougie had signed themselves up for the mentoring sessions she had been chasing them for since the season had started.

She had been fine with everyone - she smiled, she laughed, she joked, she engaged in conversation - and it was like nothing had happened.

Only, when Nico had felt brave enough to attempt even just eye contact, she wouldn’t even look at him.

No matter how many of the guys reported back that she was doing fine, he could see it every time he looked at her. 

He could see it even when he wasn’t looking at her - that teary, pleading frown she had given him as she had tried to take his hand, the resigned acceptance he had seen when she’d monotonously told him that they had made a mistake, assuming she was mirroring his own sentiments, the tremble in her lip as she had waited for him to leave with her head down at the door.

He thinks about it more often than is healthy, in situations where his focus should really be elsewhere.

Like in the gym, arms shaking as he attempts to lift more than he has in a while, and Jonas who is spotting him has to intervene before he ends up getting crushed.

Like in training, adrenaline pumping as his mind races all over the place, weaving around the defensemen and making sloppy attempts to swipe the puck until he finds himself on the weaker side of a nasty check by Luke that he can’t even argue was unwarranted.

Or in important debriefs in the small team auditorium, where one of their associate coaches, Travis, is going over team strategy before they travel to play the Canes, and he really should be absorbing all the information for such a crucial game - the potential to build on their current 2 game winning streak theirs for the taking - but all he can think about is the looming distance between him and Poppy.

They’re going down to Tampa after, and then head straight into the All Stars break. He isn’t going to see her for almost 2 weeks. Isn’t going to be able to send anyone to check up on her - not without rousing suspicion at least.

He thinks having Bratter knock on her door at home might ring alarm bells.

The distracted glance Nico casts towards the creaking door of the auditorium as it opens is instinctual and fleeting, but all his senses go into high alert when he sees who comes through it. 

The guys have been right, for the most part.

She does look okay.

She looks put together - probably more than he has looked the last two weeks without her, having barely shaved and punishing himself with a borderline dangerous lack of rest - her smart casual attire is neat and co-ordinated, a buttoned up red cardigan and long, dark trousers, her hair up in a ponytail that sways with her movement, and the only indicator that she has any sort of discomfort is the slight purse of her lips where he can tell she’s chewing at the corner.

Travis has become background noise - whatever he’s saying Nico is sure he can catch up on another time - and all he can focus on is the way she watches the coach with genuine interest.

Poppy is the kind of person that gives anyone the time of day - makes them feel like whatever it is they’re saying is the most important thing in the world, and he yearns for a day where her attentions are directed his way again. 

“And Poppy is here from the Youth Foundation,” Her name is one way to get his focus back, Nico’s eyes having not left her figure since she snuck in, leaning beside the door with a binder in hand. He follows as she descends the few stairs to the bottom and moves beside Travis, holding the binder to her chest as she smiles to the rest of the guys. “They have a favour to ask of anyone with some free time that you’re willing to give in your week off, she’s more likely to convince any of you than I am so I’ll just hand straight over.”

“Thank you, Mr Green,” she flicks the binder open, and Nico finds himself holding his breath in anticipation of her looking up and accidentally meeting his eyes, even for a second. “I know you guys are well overdue some time off, and we’d never usually ask so close to the fact, but we have a clinic out in Garfield on the 29th, we’ve donated a bunch of equipment and have some money to donate for the programme they have, and we were supposed to have Patrik Elias out to present it to the kids up there but he’s been held back in Czechia and won’t make it.”

Nico fights the urge to do something stupid like shoot up and volunteer straight away - if not for the fact that he’s supposed to be giving her space and shouldn’t force himself into her good graces, then for the fact his parents will be back in town by then, and he has plans throughout the week with them. Him looking desperate is the least of his concerns.

“If any of you are gonna be around, it would just be for the afternoon, a couple pictures and maybe some skating with the kids. There’s also one of those huge fancy cheques if you’re into showboating,” she tries to sell it, and earns a few affectionate snickers, but Nico knows these guys - while they’re generous people, and he loves them all, and knows they all love her, they’re exhausted, and have been waiting too long for a week of reprieve. 

He kicks at the shin of whoever happens to be sat closest to him. Holtzy. Perfect. He knows he was planning to stay in Jersey. It earns him a glare, but it captures his attention enough so that Nico can level him with a stern look back. 

“If anyone wants to do it, just swing by my office-,”

“I’ll do it,” Alex raises his hand after rolling his eyes and acquiescing to his captain, faking a smile Poppy’s way.

“Oh,” she doesn’t mask the surprise on her face, her lips parting in shock and eyes rounding in disbelief. She looks to Travis who just gives an approving nod in response. 

And, only because he snickers in amusement, Nico kicks Dawson, too. He hasn’t sent him Poppy’s way yet, he’s overdue his turn, and it’s his own fault for laughing at Holtzy’s misfortune. 

“Me too,” Dawson sighs, raising his hand as well and kicking back at Alex when he laughs in turn at him. 

“That was easier than I thought, thank you guys, the kids will be over the moon with the two of you!”

Nico wishes he was the recipient of the smile she gives the both of them. It’s the biggest smile he’s seen her wear in recent weeks, and he can see the light reflect in sparkles in her eyes from all the way across the room. 

That should hold him off for a bit - that little bit of warmth she gives. And sure, it isn’t directed his way, but he can settle with the fact that he’s technically the cause of it. Maybe when he’s down in Raleigh or Tampa he’ll see that smile instead of the other look etched into his recent memory.

“That’s all I’ve got, I’ll leave you guys to your meeting, thanks again!”

He watches her the whole way out, until the door swings closed behind her retreating figure, and his mind races with a surge of misplaced adrenaline for the rest of the debrief.

That’s most of the guys checked off his list, now.

Dawson and Alex are going to help her out with the hockey clinic, John and Nate have been making their way through the worlds worst dad jokes for the past two weeks to relay back to her, Jack is on drink duties, Timo on lunch, Curtis and Brendan are hopefully slowly thawing the ice with cute pictures of their kids. Jonas, Dougie, Haula, Dawsy, Pally - majority of the team have been recruited on his mission to keep her spirits up. Those who haven’t yet had a task are more than willing to play along.

All except one.

His attention drifts over to a mop of curly hair a few rows down, slumped in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest, and though he can’t see his face from where he’s sat, Nico imagines it bears the same angered frown it had when he’d checked him on the ice, earlier. 

Luke is pissed, even as distracted as Nico has been lately, that much is obvious, and he needs to get him on side if he has a chance of ever fixing things with Poppy.

He had underestimated their relationship, when he’d given it some thought, before. When they had been talking about Poppy that one time on the flight back from the Capitals game, and Luke had suggested she had deeper feelings than Nico had ever previously considered.

He had assumed because he’s never seen them together much, that they weren’t as close as Poppy and Jack seem to be, but he knows now he was wrong. 

Luke can be reserved to most, cast in the ever present shadow of his older brothers and held to unfair standards, but he is quietly observant, Nico has noticed, and he clearly sees more of Poppy than he lets on.

He knows Luke is protective over her, that he cares more than he’ll probably ever say.

He hadn’t overshared something she wouldn’t have been comfortable with when they’d had that initial conversation about him and Poppy pretending not to be into each other. He had told Nico to talk to her, had called him out on suppressing his feelings for her and pushed him to take action.

And when he had encountered Nico with Talia in the elevator back in their apartment building, he had been disappointed. 

Jack had been awkward, and evasive, but Luke had a clenched jaw and a purposely avoidant gaze. 

He thinks he gets it.

Luke had encouraged Nico to pursue Poppy, and in his pursuit, Nico had ended up hurting her.

As much as he definitely blames his captain, Luke also blames himself, and Nico of all people knows how frustrating that can be. 

When Travis calls time on the meeting, and the group disperse, Nico rushes down the steps as the boys flood out of the room and catches up to Luke with hastened steps.

“I need to talk to you,” Nico falls in line beside him, a hand clapped authoritatively on his upper back to guide him off his path and toward the locker rooms.

“Can it wait? I’m hungry,” Luke huffs, trying to resist the rerouting but falling victim to one of Nico’s infamous glares.

“Don’t make me pull rank,” he sighs as he yanks the heavy door open, his free hand gesturing for him to enter while the one on his back gives a light shove, “In.”

“Look, I’m sorry for the check earlier, it was a dick move, I didn’t mean it,” Luke starts as Nico follows him into the otherwise empty room, closing the door behind him and gesturing for Luke to take a seat.

“Come on, Luke, I’m not an idiot,” Nico scoffs, “You’re pissed at me. You have been since you saw me with Talia back in our building, but you’ve got the wrong idea,”

“Your personal life is none of my business,” Luke says like it’s something he’s been taught, something he’s rehearsed, and there isn’t a doubt in Nico’s mind that he and Poppy have been the topic of conversation in the Hughes household since the day he had run into them, maybe even before. Jack has been avoiding the topic like he’d never seen it happen, giving Nico a breather where he had initially thought he would call him out - but it’s becoming increasingly clear that Luke is the actual confrontational one of the two of them.

“If you have something to say to me, I’d rather you just come out with it than check me in a practice game, Hughes.” Nico sighs, leaning against the door to block Luke’s path out and staring him down until he relents. He has never thought he would be thankful for someone checking him before, especially not in a practice game, but the minor hit has given him the perfect opportunity to clear the air.

“Fine. I don’t like how you treated Poppy,” he says, plainly, “She’s supposed to be your friend, you don’t do that to someone you care about.”

“Carry on.” Nico thinks a part of him is urging Luke to argue because Poppy won’t, and he needs to have someone he can vent to - even if it’s someone who won’t side with him. He probably prefers it that way, ever the glutton for punishment.

“If you didn’t like her the same way, you shouldn’t have led her on, she deserves better than that.”

“I agree.”

“And she-,” his eyes narrow, “You agree?”

“I didn’t break things off because I don’t like her the same way, I did it because I do,”

“I hope you understand how stupid that sounds.” Luke rolls his eyes as he throws himself into his cubby, running a hand through his curls in frustration.

“I know it might not make sense, but I’m trying to do what’s right. She deserves someone who can give her one hundred percent of themselves, who isn’t away all the time and isn’t constantly stressed out of their mind or too tired to function.” He finds himself relaying Talia’s exact sentiments, and the memory of that particular conversation makes his stomach churn. 

“I care about her too much to end up being the guy who can’t make her happy. I know you of all people understand that to some extent, Luke.” It’s one of the few flaws of making it to the elite level of their sport - the lack of balance between their career and their personal entanglements. They’ve both spent their lives wanting nothing but to win and succeed, and it’s always going to be difficult to come to terms with, but the cold, hard truth is that they can’t have everything without paying the price for it. Something will have to give, and it would be an injustice for that something to be Poppy. “It wouldn’t be fair to her to start something that I can’t put my all into. So, I agree, she deserves better.”

“You know what else she deserves, Nico?” Luke stands from his point on the bench, the inch between them seeming more than it really is when he’s dishing out home truths like punches to the gut. “She deserves to make her own decisions. She deserves for you to be honest with her and not let your ego get in the way of what she might want.”

There it is again. Luke letting on that he knows something he doesn’t about Poppy. Unease spreads throughout his every nerve ending.

He’s always been the one who knows Poppy. Who understands her. Who gets how she thinks and grasps how she feels. 

Luke might think he does, but he doesn’t. Not like Nico.

Nico, who can’t quite fathom how he’s ended up being schooled on how to treat a woman by a 20 year old. By Luke. 

“It isn’t ego,” he mutters in denial, but it’s no use. Luke is scarily prompt to retort - especially when it comes to defending Poppy, Nico knows by now. It would be endearing if it didn’t frustrate him to no end.

“Really? ‘Cause it sounds to me like you’re so afraid to fail with her that you won’t even try.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.” He knows again that’s a pathetic excuse. Poppy had called him out on it, herself. But surely the hurt now is nothing in comparison to the hurt that could be. 

The hurt that comes with the demise of an actual relationship. Of building and building and building something, putting in years of tiresome efforts only for it to be demolished just as the final brick is laid. Of the ever-growing love between the two of them wilting into something sad and lifeless.

He can take the silent treatment. He can take the avoidance.

He won’t be able to handle that.

“How’s that going for you?” 

Luke isn’t trying to be mean, he knows that, but it doesn’t lessen the sharpness of his words - the truth digging into the most sensitive parts of Nico’s skin so deep that he feels like he’s bleeding out.

Nico sits down himself, no longer blocking the exit and allowing for Luke to leave of his own accord - only, the younger boy sits beside him, heaving out a prologued sigh and giving his captain a friendly pat on his leg. 

“Just give her time, she’ll come around, and then the two of you can talk. And when you do, you owe it to her to be open about what you both want. If you can promise me you won’t do anything else to hurt her, I’ll promise you to stop checking you in practice.”

“Sounds fair,” Nico agrees, mustering up a weak smile to give to the younger defensemen before Luke stands up. “Sorry for cornering you.”

“You’re fine, I was being an idiot.” Luke shrugs, making his way over to the door, and only because he clearly can’t help himself, he stops before leaving. “You see how easy that was to admit?”

Nico usually has better aim, and he blames Luke’s speedy departure for the way the pad he throws hits the wall with a soft whack.

Frustration is a feeling Nico doesn’t think he has ever been as familiar with as he has been lately. 

He’s frustrated as a player - the team unable to keep a winning streak to save their lives, having lost both of their games on the road last week and the mentality of the locker room dwindling with every week that passes that they don’t keep their momentum going.

Frustrated as a captain, specifically for the teammates they keep dropping to injury. Jack, Timo, Eric, Pally all dipping in and out with scratches, the roster dwindling with every passing game.

Frustrated as a friend, guilt building every time he thinks about Jack becoming more reserved in the days leading up to the All Star break, his shoulder putting him out of contention to play and the team having to send Jesper as their representative in his place. 

And, it goes without saying, frustrated when it comes to Poppy - who he had hoped would be in attendance when he had elected himself to take Jesper’s place at the signing and Q&A session he had scheduled at the end of the week. When he had come all the way out to the Rock and sought her out in the Foundation offices after volunteering, he had found out she had been off sick since that day in the auditorium, so his frustrations had crescendoed to an all time high. 

Even his parents being back in town hasn’t helped - his mother more observant than he likes to think, and she has been pecking away at any attempts of a cool exterior with more questions than he thinks he’s going to be on the receiving end of at this Q&A.

Nico has never been one to complain about any kind of community event, but the thought of having to spend all day plastering on a fake smile and pretending he isn’t at his boiling point is proving to be difficult.

So, when Jessica, the media admin who had been debriefing him on what was going to be posted on the team socials, had finally finished and had left to liaise with one of her colleagues, he had sent his mother, Katja, away to grab him a drink before the signing started. 

He just needs a moment of quiet. Where he can self-level the anxiety that is currently crushing him like a bug, take some deep breaths, and mentally prepare for the overwhelming social interactions he is about to endure. 

He wishes Poppy could be there.

He had tried texting her, just to check on her, but again, she hadn’t replied, and the thoughts have been swirling into something ugly within him the longer he has gone not knowing where or how she is.

Is she actually even sick, or is this just another attempt to stay out of his way?

The breathing clearly isn’t working, he thinks. Maybe walking might help.

Or maybe walking straight into the front of the girl who is the cause of all his frustrations might help.

As soon as he sees her, he feels guilt prick at his nerves like continuous, thick needles pushing into the flesh.

When he thinks back on the weeks before, he doesn’t entirely know if he had wanted her to look worse for wear, but as he takes her in now, he realises he hadn’t.

This is the furthest thing from what he had wanted for her.

Poppy stands before him a paler version of herself - eyes sunken, lips chapped, a slight sheen to her forehead that has caused the baby hairs around there to curl up and stick to her skin. 

Her boss Elaine had said she was sick and he had selfishly spiralled into the assumption it was just another attempt to avoid any contact him, but now his chest feels heavy with a mixture of shame and worry.

She takes a moment too long to gather herself after their initial collision, and his words feel heavy in his mouth as he asks, “Are you okay?”

“What are you doing here?” Her voice is hoarse, and the way she blinks up at him is slow and fatigued. 

“What are you doing here? You don’t look like you should be working.”

“I’m fine.” She definitely doesn’t sound fine. “Where’s Jesper?

“Bratter went to Toronto to take Jack’s place in the All Stars, they didn’t tell you?” It hadn’t been a last minute decision, so he isn’t sure how she wouldn’t know already.

“Oh,” she frowns, and if he wasn’t so worried, he’d find it cute how she looks like she’s trying to recall a memory where that information had been relayed to her. “Yeah, I think they did. They didn’t tell me who’s replacing him, though.”

“That would be me.” He doesn’t point out that it should be obvious.

“That seems like overkill.” There’s a hint of familiarity that he feels at the quip, and Nico doesn’t know if she’s trying to crack a joke or trying to be rude - he doesn’t care, either way. When he notices her squinting against the light, he subtly shifts until she’s no longer facing it directly.

“I volunteered.” He admits, and he watches as realisation sinks in. He volunteered just to be near her, and if she calls him out on it, he’s in no fit state to deny it. Of course he did, she has barely spoken to him in almost 4 weeks, and if he’s being honest with himself, he’s losing his mind a little. “I was hoping we could talk after,”

“Nico,” she sighs, touching her palm to her temple and seemingly applying pressure, pinching her eyes shut as she tries to breathe through a wave of what looks like disorientation, “I really can’t deal with this today,”

“I miss you, Poppy,” he hums, and he knows it’s an asshole move, to take advantage of the current situation, of her being sick and having lowered her defences, but he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t take the opportunity to touch her. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, strokes a thumb softly at her cheek, and tries not to think too much about the way she seems to lean into it. “I’m worried about you.”

“You’re supposed to be giving me space.” She sounds defeated, and there’s a selfish part of him that hopes she is - that she is relenting to his advances and giving in - but he knows Poppy too well to assume it’s going to be that easy.

He doesn’t even like to think about how much he has hurt her. When images of that evening flash through his memory - when he closes his eyes and sees her teary ones looking back at him, can hear how she’d fought for him to listen, to figure things out together - his chest aches in a way he doesn’t think it has before. It’s relentless, and excruciating, and he hasn’t yet found a coping mechanism that gets rid of it.

Except for seeing her. When he sees her, it lessens. When he hears her laugh from around a corner, or spots her in the halls at The Rock, talking with her co-workers or perusing one of the vending machines, he can pretend he’s okay. He can pretend that they’re just not talking because they’re both busy - not because he monumentally messed everything up with her.

And now, talking directly to her, touching her, seeing her up close - despite the difference in her usually bright complexion - he can convince himself of the same. Things are okay. They’re okay.

“I also said I still wanted to be friends.” He tries, his hand still cupping the side of her face before she shakes him off.

“Except that we’re only friends when it suits you.” She accuses with a frown, a little energy seeming to flood back into her system. “And when it doesn’t, you just toss me off to the side like I mean nothing to you.”

“That’s not true, I-,”

“I really don’t feel well enough to be having this conversation right now.”

“Then when? Every time I see you, you can’t get away fast enough. We work together, we have to see each other, you can’t avoid me forever.” He knows he doesn’t deserve to rush her. He knows he has no right to be making any kind of demands, and that the situation they’re in is entirely his doing, but he can’t help himself.

He’s frustrated.

He’s desperate. 

He had thought he could give her the patience she deserves - the space she needs - but it has been proving immensely difficult, and he just wants her back.

In whatever capacity she’s willing to offer, he’ll take it - as long as her eyes meet his for longer than a second at a time and he gets to be on the receiving end of one of her heart-stopping smiles, he’ll take it.

Even if they can’t be what they were. If the texts cease, the dinners together stop, the drives home from the Rock aren’t on the table anymore - he just wants to know there’s still love between them. That when she looks at him she doesn’t only feel the crippling hurt he fears he has caused her.

“You had no problem shutting me out the last time,” she scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling up at him, “It should be like second nature for you to ignore me again.”

“That isn’t fair, it’s not the same-,”

“Poppy!” 

Nico has always loved the way his mother is enamoured by Poppy.

The first time they had met, she’d been besotted with her. It had been during Poppy’s first year with the team - his parents had come out quite late in the season, late enough that he hadn’t seen them in a while since the summer, and he was anticipating their arrival with child-like excitement. 

Their flight into Newark had been delayed, and with them coming out on a game day, he was shut in the locker room by the time they had arrived, and he had asked Poppy for his biggest favour yet in the course of their friendship.

She had agreed to it no questions asked, no favour held over him in return, and she had pretty much hosted the two of them from their arrival at the Prudential Center to when the arena had emptied.

When Nico had reunited with his parents in the family lounge, Poppy had still been with them, waiting until she saw them off into their son’s company before leaving them alone, and he had never been more grateful to someone in his life.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he had apologised as he embraced his father, a firm clap coming down on his back as his arms wrapped around him, and he had smiled at Poppy over his shoulder. “Did you guys enjoy the game?”

“Of course we did, we had the best company in all of New Jersey,” his mother had her own arm around his best friend, Poppy’s cheeks flushing as she smiled bashfully back at him. 

Nico had kissed his mom on the cheek and had given her a side hug with the arm not around Poppy before he moved his attention to his friend.

“Thank you for looking after them,” he beamed at her, wrapping his arms around her once his mother had released and giving her a little squeeze. “I owe you,”

“That’s alright. Your dad got a little rowdy in the second period, but other than that they weren’t too much trouble,” Poppy had shrugged, a mischievous smirk cast toward his father who gave a humoured scoff in return.

“You were yelling louder than me, Poppy,” he remarked, his accent thick and his tone fond. “Katja tell him.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Nico chuckled, shaking his head toward his mom as she opened her mouth ready to pick a side, “I believe him, she gets creative when it comes to calling out the refs, I’ve heard it before.”

“Sorry for being passionate about my team,” she had pouted, “I’ll just sit in silence while you all get high-sticked to holy heaven next time.”

Nico had felt warmth wash all over him when he heard his dad’s loud cackle of a laugh - the kind he gave over family game nights when Nina outsmarted both her brothers, and they would turn to their father for some kind of defence, the kind of laughter filled with familiarity and affection - and had seen his mother’s crinkling eyes and dimpled smile.

“Do you need a ride home?” He had asked, swallowing down the attraction that was spiralling within him before it was too obvious to ignore. They had rode in together that morning, and he would usually drive her home if that was the case, but he had also promised his parents he would treat them to a nice meal after their long flight in.

“I’m alright, I can hitch a ride with one of the other boys,” Poppy declined, “You guys enjoy your dinner, it was really nice to meet you.”

“Nonsense,” Katja had exclaimed, a hand on Poppy’s arm as she moved to hug her goodbye, “Come with us, Nico can drop you home after,”

“We’ve been dying to hear someone tell us all of Nico’s secrets about his life over here.” Rino had joined in, egging Poppy on until she couldn’t say no.

When she had looked over to Nico, he hadn’t realised she was silently asking for his permission, too busy looking at her with a dopey grin on his face before he pulled himself together enough to nod his approval.

“Okay, yeah, thank you,” Poppy had agreed, “I just have to grab my bag from the office, I could meet you at your car in five minutes?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you in five.”

Nico had watched her go off as his mother looped her arm through his, leaning into him and watching Poppy until she disappeared through the far doors. 

“I like her,” Katja had a big, complimentary grin on her face when Nico looked down a little at her - and despite slipping into their native tongue, Nico had thought it would be obvious to anyone listening in what they were talking about just from the look on his mother’s face.

“Yeah, she’s great,” He had concurred, shaking her off his arm so that he could wrap it around her shoulders as they walked, and in a true show of his denial at the time, he had added, “A really good friend.”

He still remembers the sound of his mother’s knowing hum, that interaction between the four of them a catalyst for the feelings he had for the longest time suppressed.

Weeks ago, Poppy had asked him the last time he had wanted to kiss her. He’d told her about a night in a bar after the team had crashed out of the playoffs last year. A night where, in all the anguish and misery and regret, she had made him feel like he could breathe again. It was the last time he had felt overwhelmed by the urge to take the leap into something more with her.

The first time had been that night with his parents, when he’d dropped her back at her apartment after an evening of them oversharing embarrassing childhood anecdotes and Poppy sharing her own stories - ones she had of her favourite memories with Nico, and even ones without, letting his mom and dad into the strongroom that was her life before she met their son. 

Looking back, he thinks that night truly would have been a catalyst for his blossoming affections if he didn’t feel the watchful gaze of his parents waiting in his car while he made sure Poppy got inside safe.

He would have kissed her, he knows it.

Instead, he had returned to the driver’s seat and tried to ignore the smug grin his mother kept sending through the rearview mirror from her place in the back seat the whole journey to their hotel.

In the years since, her affections for Poppy have only grown, and so he should have expected that she would get excited the second she saw her - he only wishes her timing was better.

“Hi, Mrs Hischier” Poppy smiles despite her discomfort, the apples of her cheeks rounding and endearment sparkling in her previously dull eyes. The energy she gives to his mother is a stark contrast to that she had just been giving to Nico. “It’s so nice to see you!”

“It’s Katja, sweet girl, it’s clearly been too long since we have spoken!” His mother’s arms wrap around her, and he watches as Poppy’s body seems to melt at the touch, tense muscles relaxing and hand rubbing at her back. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look too good, are you feeling okay?”

She presses the back of her hand to Poppy’s clammy forehead as Nico remembers her doing so often to him as a child, gauging her temperature and casting a concerned glance over her from head to toe. 

“I’m alright, I’ve just been off sick the past week, I still probably look a little like a zombie,” Poppy chuckles, dismissively, still maintaining an eyre of warmth in the way she looks at his mother.

“Not at all, as pretty as ever, isn’t she, Nico?” His mom nudges him as if he needs any prompting to compliment her.

“Yeah,” he agrees without hesitation, and he starts to feel palpitations when her eyes glance quickly over to meet his before darting away.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Poppy huffs, and he doesn’t entirely know who she meant that for. “Did you and Rino enjoy your trip to Canada?”

Nico doesn’t know why he finds himself surprised by the way Poppy effortlessly recollects the information - a throwaway comment he had made to her in the back of that bar all those weeks ago of his parent’s whereabouts. Poppy remembers because she cares. She has always cared. Always listened to what he has to say, even if he thinks it’s irrelevant, and has always shown interest. 

He finds himself watching her as she catches up with his mother, giving tired smiles but engaging nonetheless, the conversation flowing between the two of them just as effortlessly as it had on the day they had met - where they had conversed over dinner like they had known each other for years, and Nico had blushed every time he met his mother’s eyes from across the table.

He remembers his birthday dinner with his family at the beginning of the month, where he had sat in mostly-silence and wished for her company, and he starts to wonder if it’s always going to be like that, from now on. 

If he’s always going to be longing for her. If he’s always going to feel like something’s missing if she isn’t around.

“I should go,” he hears her say, “I have to check some of the questions with the moderator and they’ll be opening the doors for the signing, soon.”

“Of course, don’t let me keep you,” his mom presses a comforting hand to Poppy’s arm, thumb rubbing in a soothing gesture before they part with goodbyes and a promise to catch up, properly, at some point. 

Nico doesn’t miss the way she hadn’t given him the same courtesy. And neither does his mother.

Her eyes narrow in his direction, and just as her lips part to no doubt call him out, a figure comes up beside them,

“They’re ready to start the signing if you are, Nico.” Jessica’s unusually perky voice rings out beside him, and he’s never been more thankful for an interruption in his life.

He hasn’t seen that disappointed glint in his mother’s eyes since he’d told her he was bringing a girlfriend home to meet her at the end of last summer, and had shown up to the house with Talia in tow.

Poppy

As backwards as it might seem to some people, the only part of Poppy’s life where she is able to seek complete solace in recent years has always been in her work.

When she had first gotten her job within the organisation - a co-op internship that covered her final year of college - she had been almost overwhelmed with pride for the first time in her life. She had always been a good student, had got into college of her own merit and hadn’t used family connections like she suspected her brother had done, and she had worked her butt off to prep for the application and interview.

And when she’d gotten the call to tell her they wanted her on the team, she had been over the moon.

She’d gotten along so well with the people she had met in the team so far, had loved their ethos and the environment at the Rock, and she couldn’t wait to build something great for herself when she got started.

She had immediately called home after accepting the position, buzzing with excitement to tell her father that she of all the alleged thousands of applicants had been accepted to work on the media programme for the New Jersey Devils, a respected establishment in one of the biggest sporting leagues in the country. She had expected he would be proud of her, too, but he had ended up heaving out a disappointed sigh, and she could hear him fold up his paper in the background before he had asked, “Hockey, Poppy? Really? What kind of success do you expect to find in such a barbaric environment?”

As much as his disapproval had hurt at that time, she credits her father’s aloofness with her happiness in her role to this day.

It turns out, she can find a lot of success in a barbaric environment if she puts enough of her heart into it.

Even back in her media days, acting as a lackey for some of the more senior guys and trudging through those first few months of hazing, she had loved her job. 

Sharing insights into the team and the sport, determined to break any stigma associated with the guys who played it and all while highlighting the way it brought pride and community to her home state, she left the building every day with a pep in her step and a giant grin on her face.

And it only got bigger when she was recruited onto the Youth Foundation team. The projects she has worked on, the people she has met, the incredible things they have all achieved together - she doesn’t think she could have gotten any luckier with her career - despite what her judgemental, uppity parents think of it.

So, when things get hard elsewhere - when she spends a little too much time with her family and goes a little stir crazy, or when she gets her heart broken by the one guy she had trusted to handle it with care, and ends up fixating on the possibility of him rekindling things with a woman he had told Poppy didn’t make him happy - she resorts to her factory settings of knuckling down and putting her work first.

Which is how, in the weeks since Nico had left her apartment that horrific night, she has attached her name to every project she can pick up. She has accepted every meeting, answered every call, returned every email, all with a smile she had felt like she was forcing at first, but has started to feel real as time has gone one.

And she thinks it’s working.

She doesn’t dread coming into the Arena - doesn’t pace the length of her office to prepare herself every time she needs to leave it, doesn’t hold her breath as she turns the corners in anticipation of seeing him, doesn’t wince every time someone knocks on her door until they pop their head in and reveal themselves.

Poppy has well and truly immersed herself in her work, and she can’t even feel the rattling of the shattered pieces of her heart anymore.

She’s too consumed with other stuff. With hockey clinics, planning fundraisers, local rink openings, development programmes, the Sweep The Deck gala, mentoring sessions, preparations for the Stadium Series in the next month. 

She should be exhausted. 

If she actually gives herself the brain power to think about anything other than work for a second, she probably would be - but she’s turned into a hammerhead shark of sorts, and she knows she’ll suffocate in all the other feelings if she stops swimming. 

If she gives even a second of her time to the constant urge to think about Nico, she’ll drown in him. In the hurt and the ache she feels when he’s even in the same room.

She has taken to pretending he isn’t there. To looking at others, immersing herself too deep in conversations that he won’t dare to interrupt, and she is actually satisfied with how she’s managed to hold herself together when it comes to the rest of the guys.

When the season had started last year, and Poppy had been avoiding Nico for the other reason over the course of those months, she had pretty much locked herself in her office during work hours, and had stayed home outside of them. She didn’t go to games, didn’t go to team events that she wasn’t working, didn’t attend birthdays or dinners or celebration trips to whatever bar could accommodate the whole team for the night. She had stopped engaging as much with the other guys - Jack had even taken to calling her a recluse if she remembers correctly - and she’s determined not to let this mess get in the way of the great relationships she has with the rest of the team. 

If not for the fact that it would be petulant for her to take out her frustrations regarding their captain with them, then for the fact that she needs the companionship.

She needs it so much that she doesn’t run from it, or even pretend like she doesn’t like their company. 

Weeks ago, if she had been coming up from the parking level with Nate Bastian, and he had tried to crack the joke, “Hey, Poppy, why are elevator jokes the best kind? Because they work on many levels,” she honestly would have scoffed and called him lame. But she had felt her lips twitching earlier in the day, and had let him boast about how he had made her smile as they walked together through the building to anyone they passed without even denying it.

The guys have been doing more for her mentality than she can ever thank them for - holding her up while her every instinct is telling her to crumble - and she couldn’t be more grateful to be a part of such a great team.

The Hughes brothers, especially. Luke, who texts her his every rambling thought sandwiched between memes and links to Tiktoks about giraffes, because he knows they make her smile. And Jack, who, despite being out of play with his shoulder, still, checks in with her every day he comes in, a drink in hand when she needs a pick me up the most, and an ever growing list of ridiculous names to call her. 

His continued visits have made her grow less weary of the knocks at her door, and so when one echoes through the room as she’s replying to some emails, she doesn’t feel the stutter of her heartbeat like she would have done last week.

“Hey, Pop,” he pokes his head into her office, fingers flexed around the door jamb as he edges his way in, empty handed, this time, but Poppy can’t hold it against him. Her day is almost finished, after all.

“What, no stupid nickname today? Did I upset you or something?” She pauses typing as she looks up at him, watching him close the door behind himself as he takes her lighthearted tone as an invitation inside.

“I did have a joke lined up about Snap and Crackle, but you’ve ruined it now actually,” he rolls his eyes playfully, throwing himself down in the chair opposite hers and flicking affectionately at his bobblehead. 

“Sorry,” Poppy gives a quick, bashful smile before going back to her work, tapping away at her noisy keyboard as she works her way through her inbox, “What’s up?”

“Was wondering if you’d seen Luke?”

“Not today, he doesn’t usually make a habit of coming down here though. Did he say he was gonna stop by?”

“Not exactly.” Jack frowns, a slight shrug of his better shoulder.

Poppy casts a confused glance his way, eyes narrowing as she watches him fidget in the seat. “Do you guys think the y chromosome is meant to get you out of ever giving a straight answer to something? What do you mean, not exactly?”

“Well, Dawsy said he’d seen him with Nico, and lately that means,” he looks as if he’s weighing up what to say in his head, and Poppy wishes the lower part of her desk didn’t block her legs from his so she could give him a quick kick to the shin, “Well, people usually come straight here after Nico pulls them to talk.”

She sighs.

She had figured as much, but the confirmation of it doesn’t make her heart ache any less.

She’d had her first suspicions when Smitty had shown her every picture she thinks he’s ever taken of his kids the other day. He’d sat beside her in the lounge while the team and staff had been waiting for some sort of safety meeting - one she hadn’t even got to focus much on because he had talked her ear off for almost an hour until he was finally pulled away for some other responsibilities. 

And then Jonas had come by her office - something he had literally never done before. He had found Poppy working on a project, brainstorming with post-its on her cleared floor, and had waited around until she had finished - chipping in little ideas here and there for a presentation on the Learn To Play programme and using his 6’2 stature to take an aerial photo of all her sticky notes that Poppy never would have been able to get right, enabling her to clean them away and tidy up after herself before she finished for that day. It wasn’t that she minded his company, he’d actually been a massive help, but she had this nagging feeling that he would never come see her of his own volition.

Then there was Holtzy and Dawson volunteering for the hockey clinic in the debrief earlier like they were being held at gunpoint and forced into labour.

Nico has put them all up to it.

Even when he’s giving her space, he can’t leave her be.

“So what you’re saying is he’s abusing his position of power to get you all to come talk to me,”

“I don’t know if I’d phrase it like that,” Jack scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck, and she only feels a slight pinch of guilt. She knows he had a habit of coming to see her before all of this, but his visits have definitely increased over the past few weeks - so, he isn’t entirely innocent, either. “Maybe he misses you?”

“Maybe he should have thought about that,” she mutters, leaning onto her desk and pressing her palms into her closed eyes to relieve the headache that’s starting to build. 

Distracting herself with work had been going so well.

“You know we can’t talk about this, Jack,” she sighs, “He’s your captain, it’s not fair of me to vent about our situation to you of all people.”

“Ouch,”

“You know what I mean. If it was anybody else, I’d come to you for advice, but you guys are a team, I’m just-,”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Poppy,” Jack rebukes, sitting up straight in his chair and levelling her with a stern look, “You’re our friend. Even if Nico is asking the others to check up on you, they wouldn’t do it if they didn’t care about you. None of us want a repeat of the start of the season, okay, we just want to know you’re alright.”

“I appreciate you saying that,” Poppy gives a weak smile, the kind that doesn’t quite meet her eyes, “I just don’t want anybody taking sides, I know Luke’s been off with him about the whole thing,”

“That’s probably where he is now,” Jack realises, “He did get a little rough in practice before.”

“Yeah, I heard,” she says, knowing Luke and Nico had a collision earlier that had been the talk of the office all morning. “Look, I love you guys for it, but I don’t need babysitters. I just wanna move on. And you can tell Nico that, the next time he tries to force you out here with.another iced beverage just to keep me company or whatever.”

“Well, they go on the road tomorrow, so you should get some peace and quiet around here.” Jack still seems solemn at the thought of the team travelling anywhere without him, but she has tried one too many times to talk to him about it and, every time, he has shut her down. He’ll talk about it when he’s ready, and if she’s making a point of not wanting to be pushed on a subject, she isn’t going to do the same to him, even if her instincts are telling her to wrap the guy up in a bear hug and tell him everything will be okay. “I’ll leave you to your work, anyway, I’ll be around until the weekend if you need me, Pop. I promise I would be bringing you drinks even if he wasn’t asking me to.”

He pushes himself up from the seat with his good side before retreating back towards the door, and Poppy can’t let him go without at least attempting to cheer him up. He never usually leaves this quick, always finds some reason to hover and affectionately irritate her just a little - but she can tell he’s done figuring out reasons to linger around the arena for the day.

“I would have laughed, by the way,” she calls out to him, causing him to pause half way out and look back, a questioning brow arched her way. “Snap, Crackle and Pop would have been a good one, it’s funny.”

“They’re all funny, Poppy.”

She really is losing her mind.

As if the universe is playing some gigantic, cruel joke on her, Poppy’s promised peace and quiet while the team have gone on the road has turned into her shut in her apartment with every single curtain drawn, wrapped up under a mountain of covers to combat the shivers, and a leg poking out of them to alleviate the hot flushes - all while battling the most crippling waves of nausea she has ever experienced in all of her adult life.

She had gone home from work on Wednesday and had invited Nia around, hoping her best friend’s anger around the Nico situation had dwindled enough that she wasn’t going to harp on about it all night, and they could enjoy some movies and dirty takeout like they were back in college without Poppy having to even think about anything else.

Uptown Girls had been playing on the TV, empty containers of Korean Hot Pot had littered her coffee table, and Nia had fallen asleep sprawled out across the couch when Poppy had first started to feel off.

She had been watching Brittany Murphy and Dakota Fanning swirling around in the teacup ride, and had started to feel like her own living room was spinning.

She had barely made it to her bathroom before she was puking her guts up, waking Nia in the process who had spent the next hour holding her hair back before she tucked her into bed.

Poppy had called in to work the next morning. She had missed even watching the game against Carolina, could barely remember a solid half an hour of consciousness between that Wednesday night and Saturday morning.

All she remembers is vomiting, Nia checking in after work, bringing an abundance of electrolyte drinks and trying to get her to eat before she had to leave again She recalls burning bagels she had forgot she had left in the toaster, vomiting again at the smell of the burned bagels, and having a series of the most absurdly vivid dreams she’s ever experienced in her life. 

All of which had one common theme.

Nico.

Dreams where she’s swimming in a large, unidentifiable body of water. It’s cold, and she is exhausted, and her limbs ache from treading water and trying to stay afloat. It’s mostly dark, sometimes lit by the moon, the reflection of which shimmers in her path to something in the distance. And she’s stretching, reaching out, desperately kicking her legs to get to whatever it is until she realises it’s him, and he’s swimming away, making it a thousand times harder on her.

Dreams of her stood at the door of her apartment, the repeated knock on the other side echoing on and on as she scrambles to look for the keys to unlock it. It’s a pattern she thinks she recognises, a rhythmic knock that only he has used before, but she can’t get the door open with all her might, and her keys are nowhere to be seen. 

Dreams of their fated night together, only this time it’s like she’s on the outside looking in, watches the two of them in the throes of passion, only when she takes a proper look, he isn’t into it like she is. Or there’s another version where she isn’t herself at all. She has much lighter hair, and mutters out profanities in German as Nico presses sweet kisses into her lips and cradles her face lovingly. She’s Talia, and he looks as happy as ever when she is.

Despite the almost 3 days of round the clock sleep, she has never felt so exhausted in her life.

When the nausea fades ever so slightly, and she gets enough strength in herself to get up - to eat, to drink, to function like a normal human being, she feels sluggish and weak, and like she hasn’t had a moment’s rest in months.

Nia had been checking in, surprisingly not sick herself even though Poppy assumes her bug came from the takeout they shared - but Nia is vegetarian, so she had thought that might have explained it. She had been making sure Poppy remained hydrated, and continued to eat despite the continuous waves of nausea that kept coming back. She had done her grocery shopping, stocking her refrigerator with a bunch of different juices and smoothies, and buying her a bunch of fresh fruit, some bread, some yoghurts, pasta, crackers, plain chips, all the things that would hopefully keep her energy up and her nausea down.

And it had taken her a week to recover to a point that she felt like she could work again. She probably shouldn’t have forced herself back when she wasn’t feeling, or looking, 100%, but she had become so used to using her job as a coping mechanism, that regaining the slightest bit of her energy had her spiralling a little mentally, and she couldn’t take being at home any longer.

She had known that Jesper had his Q&A event, and had to stop by the Rock to pick up some of her files before making her way over - but that trip had proved to be more trouble than it was worth, and she had ended up getting herself all mixed up when she had returned to her office and had ended up dry heaving in the bathrooms when she caught a mix of smells walking through the hallway on her way in.

She had wanted to get some prep work done - approve the questions, meet with the photographers, catch up with Jess from Media, but she had ended up hurled over the toilet bowl for a good hour until she felt somewhat better, and was in so much of a rush to get over to the event that all she had managed to do to pull herself together was throw her hair up and hope that chomping on a breath mint wouldn’t trigger her senses all over again. 

She felt like she was fresh out of The Walking Dead.

She had to get an Uber over, had sat with her head out of the window like some kind of dog to alleviate the sweat that had broken out from her rushing around, and by the time she made it - she was so out of sorts she barely could remember why she was there.

And then she had bumped into Nico.

And she hates that she had felt a little better.

She hates that she found comfort in the fresh smell of his cologne, or the soft touch of his hand to her skin. She hates that the sound of his voice had quelled the rapid thumping of her heartbeat, and that it felt so good just to be in his presence, she had almost forgotten how much she had been hurt. How much he had hurt her.

She hates how she had felt obliged to pretend everything was okay in front of his mother, the sweetest woman on planet Earth embracing her like she was her own daughter, wrapping her up in a shroud of worry and sheer maternal instinct.

And she hates how all of those feelings have lingered throughout the afternoon. As she had watched him engage with his fans during his signing, big dimpled smiles sent to tiny children drowning in jerseys way too big for their small frames, and all adorning his number on the back. As she had watched Katja as the event unfolded, eyes sparkling with pride for her son and everything he has accomplished. As she’s stood and watched him answer questions she knows the answers to like she knows her own favourite food.

Where is your dream vacation destination?

He wants to visit Costa Rica.

What is your favourite sport outside of hockey?

He loves Tennis, loves Roger Federer, a real idol for him as a kid growing up in Switzerland, but also loves soccer, which he always says with an uncomfortable twist to his lips, because his father used to play.

What does he miss the most about home?

His family. His siblings. She probably knows more about Nina and Luca than she knows about Oliver, at this point.

“What’s your favourite thing to do in Jersey when you’re not playing hockey?”

“Uhh,” Poppy watches as Nico rolls his shoulders, his face pensive as he ponders the question, “It depends when we get time off. If the weathers nice, Jersey has some nice beaches, sometimes we go in a group and hang out,” he answers, and just before he carries on, his eyes flicker over to Poppy, meeting hers and holding her gaze until she looks away. “But if it’s when we’re playing I try to spend any downtime with friends. I have some really great friends here and I think that helps me destress a little, just being around them, going out for food and drinks and stuff. Some of my favourite people I have met while I’ve been living here.”

Poppy doesn’t dare look back up, her pulse throbbing in her temples.

“Well that’s a perfect segue into the next question, who’s your best friend on the team?”

She doesn’t stick around to listen to him skirt around that answer, pushing herself discretely through the doors back into the room that the signing had taken place in and busying herself packing up what she can without any help. 

She needs to carry on working, needs to stop thinking, needs to stop feeling so many things. Needs to be somewhere else, where she can’t look at him, can’t admire the way the deep brown of his irises shine when he smiles, or how one of his eyebrows does that cute little hop when he speaks for a little too long, or how she thinks she can still feel his hand on her face even though it’s been at least a good couple of hours since they had spoken by now.

She doesn’t realise how quick she’s moving around until the room starts to spin, and she stumbles a little into a table before steadying herself on one of the chairs.

“Hey, Poppy, are you alright?” The words are spoken in an accent she’s always found comforting, only the voice is different. Softer. Feminine.

She looks up to see Nico’s mom moving closer, concern causing her eyes to go round and her brows to furrow, and the soft, gentle touch of her hand to Poppy’s arm has her stuttering in her response.

“Y-yeah,” she breathes, “Just got a little dizzy.”

“Are you sure, do you need to sit down?”

“I’m okay, honestly,” she smiles, despite the way Katja’s warm, caring eyes mirror those of her son and make Poppy’s chest ache just a little. “I haven’t really eaten much today, I just got a little lightheaded, I’ll be fine once we’re done here and I can go home and eat.”

“Here,” Katja reaches into her purse, digging around before she pulls out some sort of granola bar, “I got this for a snack on my flight and didn’t eat it, you can have it to keep you going.”

Poppy can hardly decline the motherly gesture, and takes the snack with a thank you before unwrapping it and taking a cautious bite. She probably isn’t doing herself any favours, the nausea creeping up when she chews on a bit of dried fruit, and the unexpected flavour immediately triggers her stomach. She’s been sticking to crackers and dry toast, and hasn’t really eaten anything sweet in a week - the combination of the fruit and the syrupy coating making her feel so uneasy she has to sit down. 

“You’re still sick?” Katja sits beside her, watching over her in the way only a loving mother could, concern etched upon her beautiful features and a tilted head examining Poppy from head to toe. 

“I usually shift bugs a lot quicker than this, but I think the not being able to eat and the exhaustion is making everything worse.”

“You aren’t sleeping, either?”

“Technically I might be sleeping too much.” Poppy takes another bite, trying to put her mind over the matter, knowing that it should actually make her feel well enough to get through the rest of the event to have something in her belly. “But I keep having these crazy dreams, and they’re so vivid that I don’t feel rested at all when I wake up, even if I got enough hours in. Then I just feel anxious and it makes me more tired.”

Katja nods understandingly, a knowing smile plucking at her lips until her cheeks dimple, just like Nico’s do. “How many weeks?”

“Have I been sick?” Poppy asks, too busy trying to ignore the sickly sweet flavour on her tongue to notice the woman sat beside her shaking her head, “Just last week. I think it was bad takeout or something, combined with work stress probably-,”

“How many weeks are you into your pregnancy, Poppy?” She chuckles, a gentle hand placed on Poppy’s lap. “You don’t have to pretend to me.”

“My-,” Poppy covers her mouth as she swallows a hardly-chewed bit of granola, “I’m not-,” she struggles a little with her words, cringing at the way she can feel it going down her throat, and clears it with an awkward cough when she can, “Pregnancy?”

“Oh Goodness, I’m sorry,” Katja’s eyes widen in alarm, the hand on Poppy’s knee squeezing apologetically, “I just thought, the dreams, the sickness, the exhaustion, that’s how it started for me with all 3 of my children.”

“Oh.” At least she isn’t the only person Nico has ever caused to have such torturous dreams, she thinks. “No, I’ve just had a bug, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna clear up,” she says, her voice much smaller as she continues to speak through trembling lips, continues to grow more unsure of her words as something akin to dread settles in the pit of her stomach. “And this is like the aftershocks of being sick, or something, one last hurrah for the germs.”

“Of course,” Katja nods, giving Poppy’s knee a comforting rub before placing her hands on her own lap, a sheepish look given as she makes eye contact, the same dark eyes she’s been dreaming about looking right at her. “I would never usually assume, I swear you don’t look it, it was just my first thought when you mentioned the sleep. It just took me right back, my pregnancies were all like that. Heavy sickness, exhaustion, even in my bones I felt tired, and the dreams were crazy, especially with Nico, it was like full movies playing out in my head every night for the whole 9 months.”

“I never knew that was a thing.” Poppy has obviously heard of morning sickness. She’s heard of expectant mothers being exhausted, their bodies worn out from the oh-so-minor task of creating life, but she hadn’t ever heard anyone talk about dreams being an indicator of pregnancy.

“Babies make your body do crazy things.” She gives a reminiscent chuckle, and Poppy notices her lose herself a little in the memory, warm eyes melting with the recollection. “But at least you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Right.” The empty swallow Poppy takes next hurts more than the granola had before, the scratch of the cereal a minor irritation in comparison to the lump currently forming there. “What other symptoms did you have?”

“At the start, food was my enemy. Rino used to have to make me smoothies to get all my vitamins in. You wouldn’t think with the appetite my boys had growing up that they would have made me fear eating so much, but it was bad. I always envied the women who just had a little morning sickness.”

Poppy feels her eyes well up - more so at the way Katja’s eyes glint with pride and love when she talks about her family than anything else. It’s beautiful. Even recalling how sick her babies had made her, Poppy can tell from the look on her face that her pregnancies brought her unadulterated joy.

She remembers when Oliver’s wife, Kimberley, had been pregnant with their first son. They had lived in Jersey, still, back then, and family dinners were a staple every Friday night. They were all sat around the dining table back at the Jensen house, and Kimberley, God bless her, had misguidedly asked Priscilla what her pregnancies were like. 

“Hell.” Poppy’s mom had said, sipping at her wine and looking over the glass at Oliver with a measured glare. “He gave me uneven breasts and dry skin,”

“Mom,” Oliver had grunted in disgust, a protective hand reaching out to take hold of his wife’s.

“And she,” Priscilla gave an accusatory point in Poppy’s direction, “Gave me thin hair and postnatal depression. But she evened my breasts back out, so there’s a silver lining, I suppose.”

Kimberley hasn’t made the same mistake of seeking motherly advice since then. 

“And Nina made me have super-human scent, I could smell things from floors away.”

Poppy can barely look at her anymore.

After she’d spoken to Nico when he’d turned up before, she could still smell him from across the room. And she hadn’t been able to step foot in the common area in her office when she’d dropped by to pick up her files earlier, thinking she could smell someone’s microwaved food and feeling like she was about to vomit. She has only been able to nibble at dry crackers all week just to avoid eating or smelling anything that would set her off.

But that’s the bug, right? She’s been sluggish, she’s been tired, running hot all week, and her body has constantly ached, especially-

“I should get all this stuff packed up,” Poppy shoots up from her seat, thankfully able to suppress the dizziness. “I think I feel better, thank you so much for keeping me company.”

She shouldn’t hope so much that she isn’t being rude, shouldn’t expect or want Katja to hold her to high esteem, but she finds herself cringing at her quick subject change, and caring a little too much that it will make her think less of her.

Her son doesn’t want her to be a part of his life in that way, Poppy thinks, so it shouldn’t matter what Katja feels about her. Not anymore.

“That’s okay, Poppy, thank you for listening to me reminisce. It was nice. Nico usually gets too embarrassed for me to talk about stuff like this.” Katja follows Poppy up, mirroring her to help her pack up the rest of the merchandise that hadn’t been bought or signed.

“I don’t think he could ever be embarrassed by you.” Poppy chuckles despite herself, defending him like it’s second nature, even though she knows Katja wasn’t trying to put him down in the first place. He’s her son, for crying out loud, Poppy thinks, she doesn’t need some random girl he works with acting like she knows him any better than his own mother. “He probably just doesn’t want to think about ever making you uncomfortable, even as a foetus or whatever.”

Katja gives that same knowing smile she had worn just before turning Poppy’s world upside down mere minutes ago. The smile that would be patronising on anyone else, but the warmth in her eyes holds nothing but understanding and appreciation.

“He’s a sweet boy,” she remarks, proudly, “I never thought of It like that."

“Yeah, you raised a gentleman for sure.” Poppy had considered that it would feel more like a lie when the thought had come to her head, but as the words leave her mouth, she finds comfort in them.

Despite how much he had hurt her, she still knows Nico’s heart. She knows he cares deeply, knows he is selfless and warm, and loves with everything in him. He just doesn’t love her - not how she wants him to, at least - but she can’t hold that against him forever.

The words weigh a little heavier when the situation dawns on her, but she tries not to get ahead of herself. Not again.

She can’t be pregnant. That’s insane. 

And she can’t rack her brain trying to remember if either of them had protected themselves with his mom sat right in front of her, she knows for a fact she can’t suppress the heat that rises up her neck at the memory - she may as well wave a gigantic flag that reads Hey, I had sex with your son!

“We’re heading for dinner when he’s finished here, would you want to join us?” Katja asks, motherly concern etched upon her features, and Poppy’s heart warms at the gesture in spite of the panic rousing in her chest.

“That’s alright,” she shakes her head, guilt plucking slightly at her with the telling of the minute lie, “I have plans with another friend.”

“We’ll be going home next week, so there’s plenty of time to catch up, if you’re free at all.”

Poppy can’t help but relent with a soft smile, nodding at the suggestion without overthinking it. She’d accidentally gatecrashed a couple lunches Nico and Katja had together in some of her previous visits, and she was always so welcoming and kind - it would hardly be putting herself out if she were to do it again. “I’d like that,”

“If you’re busy, Nina and Rino will be over for the Stadium game, don’t let them convince you to come out when I’m not there.” She jests with a pointed finger, and Poppy finds herself laughing despite her nerves. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good girl.” Katja reaches out and pinches softly at Poppy’s cheek, “Make sure you keep drinking plenty, and eating too, even if you feel sick you should try make sure you’re keeping your energy up. Try soup with lots of vegetables and bread. You can make it in a big batch and freeze it.”

Poppy can’t remember the last time her own mother had cared about her like this - not without belittling her, at least. When she’d spoken to her mom last week, had told her she was off work sick and couldn’t come over at the weekend, she had heard her roll her eyes over the phone. She’d been told that this is where eating poorly gets her, and that if she was keeping on top of her supplements and vitamin shots, she wouldn’t be so prone to illness. 

Even as a grown woman, with her own career, her own life, her own home, she still feels like a berated child when it comes to her mom. 

Nico’s mom makes her feel child-like in an entirely different way. In a way that’s warm and comforting, a way that wouldn’t give her anxiety every time her name comes up on her phone.

“I will, thank you for looking out for me, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it, Katja.”

Kindness comes like a second nature to Katja - to all members of the Hischier family she has encountered thus far - and a pang of jealousy and longing hits her at the realisation that some people have just been raised around this level of benevolence their whole lives, and think nothing of it.

Though, she knows Nico appreciates it.

Katja departs back through the doors into the Q&A with a soft smile and an enthusiastic wave, and Poppy waits until they have closed properly before she retrieves her cellphone from her back pocket.

Frustrated at the way it refuses to identify her face, she prods her fingers into the screen, typing in her passcode and swiping until she finds her calendar app. 

She knows she had an appointment scheduled in December with her gynaecologist. She had been in the middle of trialling a new contraception back in October - a sticky patch that had made her bleed continuously for 3 weeks and turned her into a raging nightmare to be around - and had stopped using it despite the 6 week recommendation she had been given, figuring she’d just wait out the rough periods until her next time she was booked in and speak to the doctor about it. But she’d been so busy in the back end of last year, she doesn’t remember how long it’s been since she stopped. 

Her eyes widen when she locates the appointment, clicking into the date, December 15th and reading the notes she left in there.

NEED TO RESCHEDULE!!!! busy w/ work, gynae breaks 4 xmas 22nd, comes back Jan 2nd.

She remembers the phone call as soon as she reads it. She had cancelled instead of rescheduling, knowing she was picking up extra work and would be busy until pretty much after the Christmas break. She was supposed to call in the new year. She’d gotten distracted. She hadn’t thought it was an emergency, it wasn’t like she thought she would need it for contraceptive purposes. And her periods hadn’t even been that bad since she stopped using it. Light flow, 28 day cycle, barely any cramps. She’d even been keeping a track of it, herself. She had nothing to worry about, which is probably why she hadn’t remembered to book herself back in. Hadn’t thought to start taking any other birth control in the meantime.

Her Cycle app is the next stop, flicking through the dates until she realises she was on her period after Christmas, and that the 10 or so days after that had ended were marked another colour, given another meaning.

She can feel her heartbeat in her ears. 

No, no, no.

This isn’t happening.

She’s jumping to conclusions.

It’s just a sickness bug from the takeout.

The dreams are just her broken heart playing tricks on her.

She isn’t pregnant.

She can’t be pregnant.

Next Chapter

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

[max-nolastname]

ruined my new yorker friend’s day by telling him gotham is in new jersey state, not new york

[friesian]

1, 13, 30 (https://kralkatorrik.tumblr.com/post/691801307850440704/soft-asks-to-get-to-know-people cos it was a while ago)

HI HELLO!!! i hope u don't mind since i answered 1 and 30 a lil bit ago, i give some more options for those!! plus for 1 i just love talking about my music tastes hee hee. 1. what song makes you feel better?

MORE SONGS THAT MAKE ME FEEL GOOD!! WOO HOO!! i'll give down 3 more! if you notice repeating artists.... i sorry... but a lot of them are just very much some of my faves and i like A LOT of their tracks. fish whisperer -- vylet pony (i will always feel so artistically motivated after this one.) goblins -- nekrogoblikon (named my new kitten after this one. his name is nekrogoblikon. idk. something about this song is just GREAT.) euthanasia rollercoaster -- foreign gnomes + KM_EXP (THIS ONE IS BECAUSE i associate it with the big soo-won fight and marwyd with aurenes hammer and im just like. YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!) 13. what’s your comfort food? OHHHHH so. i have a REALLY bad stomach. celiac, intolerances, and just a sensitive bitch of a muscle. so my comfort food is very limited. but my go to is honestly french fries. ESPECIALLY fresh. i really like getting them from sheetz. i get 2 cups of fries and hard boiled eggs and it is GREAT. it's very simple and filling believe it or not. 30. what reminds you of home (doesn’t have to mean house… just things that remind you of the feeling of home)?

so. i suppose to get sappy again, maybe a little sad. so sorry for how long winded this one is. i never knew any of my grandparents except for my grandmother on my dad's side. i loved her very much. she had a bad marriage. my dad only talked to her through arguments honestly. but she never ever took it out on me. when i was in middle school, she got REALLY sick. there was malpractice and she had to move near my parents, and essentially ended up moving right next to the school. i used to walk over after school and care for her since she had breathing problems, stomach problems, you name it. however, she made sure i still felt at home and wouldn't go hungry. she'd still spoil her grandkid despite being on disability and not really ever having a job. so, before i was sick as i am now, she used to buy me those REALLY cheap box pizzas you see in stores for like a dollar. she would get A LOT of them since the school lunches were SO bad i just would not eat, and i was always too tired in the morning to make my own lunch (i lived out in bumfuck nowhere, so i woke up at 5 so i could get to school at 7). she'd have a stack of them in the old fridge from the early 90s, alongside her michelina's alfredo noodles she loved, and the ice packs she had in there for her back pain. i'd slap one of those bad boys in the microwave for a few minutes, turn on courage the cowardly dog on that small sad excuse for a flatscreen tv, check in on her, sit and eat my pizza. just me with this little tv table, her in bed, me watching tv. it felt great. she'd still ask me "those pizzas okay?" in that thick jersey accent she had. like somehow i'd change my mind half way through devouring one of those things, covered in sauce and cheese lol. i can't have those pizzas now. but sometimes my wife buys and makes them. it makes me think of her small apartment. a place i'd happily call a second home. makes me tear up a bit writing it since my grandmother passed about nine years ago now. i think around the start of next year will be ten years without her. but those damn pizzas still make me think of her, and that cozy feeling of her watching cartoons with me.

[goatsandgangsters]

Hi! I know you have probably answered this before, but I was wondering how you think meyer and lucky got together (in boardwalk empire)? I think about it a lot, and I just can never fully grasp what I feel about it, especially because this was in the 1920s

yeeeeeeeEEEEeeeeSSSS oh I’m so glad you asked, I’m gonna have so much fun! So YES I do have specific headcanons for how they got together, though I don’t know if I’ve ever actually laid them out explicitly? (also I’m saying “my” headcanons but I wanna acknowledge that they originate from Friend Conversations that happened a number of years ago, to the point where I don’t even know who originally said what but the idea of it is just lodged in my brain now. BUT ON THE FLIP SIDE, I don’t want to present this as This Is The Fanon We Agreed On, Everyone Has To Think This, because fandom should never operate that way. ANYWAY)

TL;DR: I think Meyer’s near-death experience in Emerald City was an instigating event for them to get together, because it shakes them enough to act on their feelings. Plus, it coincides nicely with Vince and Anatol becoming more comfortable around one another as actors in a way that lends itself to that reading. BUT I AM NOT THE EXPERT OR THE ARBITER ON THIS MATTER, and I think any interpretation is perfectly wonderful!

So the headcanon I operate with is that they got together after the near-death experience in Emerald City. That originates from a Watsonian vs. Doylist perspective on Vince and Anatol’s acting. They’re not quiiiiite in sync with each other in the first few eps they share, which I’m sure in actuality is them finding their groove and their dynamic as actors. But from a Watsonian perspective, it’s really easy to read their earlier scenes as pining. Like in their first scene together in Home, they’re both constantly looking at each other, but never quite meeting each other’s eye. It’s like that thing where you have a crush on someone, so you keep looking at them, but oh god they saw me and you look quickly away. And they both keep doing it!

Some of their other early scenes—like with the D’Alessios while Charlie’s playing pool, or that weirdly staged scene earlier in Emerald City where Meyer’s sitting way farther away at the table—they may exchange looks, but there’s a fleetingness to it. But then you watch the scene at the end of season 1 where they’re talking to AR with the umbrellas AND THE PSYCHIC BOND HAS ARRIVED. They are having those telltale Full On Conversations with their glances! They are synced up. They’re a team, they’re a unit, they’ve hit that dynamic that they have for the rest of the show.

And in actuality, probably it was Vince and Anatol finding their footing with each other as actors. But if you read into that textually, they go from “staring at the other but constantly dodging eye contact, like they’re afraid to be caught looking” to “we’re having an entire conversation in one look” and you’ve gotta think: what changed?

Meyer’s near-death experience in Emerald City, conveniently enough, happens in the middle. And I think that works well as an instigating moment for them, because it’s BIG. Meyer almost died, in another state—in goddamn New Jersey!—and that’s enough to make anyone act on things they wouldn’t otherwise act on or reevaluate life and relationships.

In terms of their feelings for one another and when those developed and how, my usual interpretation is that… I mean Charlie was heart-eyes from the jump, but not in a romantic way, whereas Meyer was the first to develop full-on pining feelings feelings. Because obviously Charlie was not like “I have feelings feelings for this tiny child” when they first met, but he DID very much imprint on Meyer like a little baby duckling and was like HEY I LIKE THIS KID, WE’RE GONNA BE FRIENDS, CAN I FOLLOW YOU HOME whereas Meyer was like “um, what the fuck.” Classic “enthusiastic puppy befriends sulky cat” dynamic. But then when the FEELINGS FEELINGS come into it, I think of Meyer as having been harboring feelings for Charlie for a while. (also basically all of this is from @meyerlansky, because we successfully tag-teamed on headcanons by one of us wanting to hyperanalyze Meyer and the other wanting to hyperanalyze Charlie and then we just shared!) I mean, you know, Charlie’s good-looking and they’re friends and Charlie’s so casual about flinging his arm around Meyer’s shoulders or roughhousing with him and Meyer’s insides do a little flip that they shouldn’t be doing, but they’re getting older and Charlie’s starting to sleep around with girls and that stings and bothers him in a way that It Shouldn’t, but also It Is What It Is, there’s nothing he can do about it, they’re friends and they’re business partners and that should be enough and it’s all it’ll ever be so focus on the task at hand and ignore the flip in his stomach.

For Charlie, I’m not actually sure WHEN he realizes there are feelings for Meyer. I don’t have a solid, definitive default interpretation for that. But in early season 1, pre Meyer-getting-introduced, he’s definitely enamored and smitten with Gillian, and he’s similarly moonstruck towards AR. I think that can read as, “trying really hard to distract yourself so you don’t acknowledge that maybe you’re in love with your best friend.” Whether he’s doing that consciously or unconsciously, I could also go either way on that.

A lot of this interpretation is based around the simple fact that Charlie was introduced and established in the show before Meyer, so I wonder how my headcanons would have been different if they’d been introduced together from the start. But with how the show unfolds, the change as Anatol and Vince find their groove as actors, plus a near-death experience to make someone act on something they wouldn’t otherwise act on—it all lends itself nice and neatly to Emerald City being the get-together point.

(I know a number of people have worked that headcanon into their own fics and written post-Emerald City get-together, which I can rec you. Though again, by no means do I want this to come across as “this is what the fandom has decided, you have to think it too” because that’s never how fandom should operate. No one is the arbiter of When Did Charlie and Meyer First Kiss. I love get-togethers in general, so I will always be happy reading any get-together fic that happens at any point in time, with any instigating factor, in any way, because that’s just delightful!)

Here are some get-together and/or pining fics that I can recommend:

born once of flesh, then again of fire, i am reborn a third time (a post-Emerald City get-together)

Contact (another post-Emerald City get-together by @rubecso)

Making Accommodations (by @transdracosmalfoy, the post-Emerald City genre lives on!)

to see God in the skyline (by @lurusciutelumare a sprawling masterpiece of chapters intertwining Charlie and Meyer’s childhood and growing up. It takes a while to reach the get-together point, but the whole thing is well worth the read. The entire fic is set pre-Boardwalk Empire)

beg dead trees for money next (by @meyerlansky, a pre-Boardwalk fic of Meyer realizing he has feelings for Charlie which is one of my faves for a lot of reasons)

(also I’m sorry if I missed anyone’s get-together fic. I tried to wrack my brain but I’ve been in this fandom for, uh, a while and it’s hard to remember back sometimes. Feel free to add yours in if I did!)

Also re: getting together in the time period and how it being the 1920s shapes things, there would definitely be added concerns and dangers, though I don’t think it’s necessarily a black-and-white thing. I don’t think the wider attitudes of society towards queerness would have impacted them as much in comparison to the specific culture of lower Manhattan and the criminal spheres they operated in.

Because on the one hand, in the criminal world in which they were operating, it likely would have been dangerous for anyone to know that they’re queer. It probably would have hurt their business and their reputation among their peers and rivals, and—because of how masculinity and queerness interconnect and operate—would look like weakness to others. But in terms of “well can Charlie make a move, because it’s dangerous if Meyer doesn’t reciprocate or reacts badly” (or vice versa), it would reflect equally bad on both of them? Like, if Charlie made a move and Meyer was like “nah,” he can’t very well go gossiping to the whole Lower East Side about it, because it hurts his reputation too, it hurts his business, and they were also close enough as friends that even if there wasn’t reciprocation, neither one of them would do anything to damage the other’s reputation like that.

As far as how they feel about it on an internalized level, I definitely don’t think they… care from a legal and/or moral standpoint. I don’t think Charlie’s like “oh god I’m going to hell for liking men,” because by the time he and Meyer kiss, he has DEFINITELY KILLED PEOPLE. They already break a lot of laws all the time. So that wider societal stigma from a moralizing perspective probably doesn’t matter to them much, because wider society already thinks they’re an “undesirable criminal element,” they’re already “dangerous immigrants,” so what’s it matter if they also bang on top of doing crimes and killing people? Charlie and Meyer are already outside the Predominant Ethical Framework of Society by virtue of their class background and criminal enterprises (and class and queerness have huge intersections historically in terms of what the experience was like). Being in an urban area in the 1920s (especially New York), queer sexuality is something they would have known about; it probably wouldn’t have been any more shocking than any other “vice” they grew up around in that area.

If they do have any concerns or guilt about what they’re feeling for one another, for Charlie I think it all has to do with masculinity and with the machismo he’s grown up around. It’s also something he’s already touchy about, given the emasculation that happened being called Sal (which, at the time, was common nickname for Sally) and historically he has a history of experiencing sexual violence. So I can see him struggling with conflating that together—as well as worrying that his feelings for Meyer are unwanted and similar to what he experienced. Meyer, I would say, cares less about the performance of masculinity, but I do think he sees himself as an eventual family man in a way that Charlie does not. @meyerlansky also has more thoughts on Meyer + sexuality + being a-spec.

I’M SORRY FOR MY LONG TANGENTS!! I literally do not have the ability to be succinct.

IN SUMMARY, I think Meyer’s near-death experience in Emerald City was an instigating event for them to get together, because it shakes them enough to act on their feelings. Plus, it coincides nicely with Vince and Anatol becoming more comfortable around one another as actors in a way that lends itself to that reading. BUT I AM NOT THE EXPERT OR THE ARBITER ON THIS MATTER, and I think any interpretation is perfectly wonderful!

As for the time period and being the 1920s, it definitely has ramifications on how they conceive of themselves—particularly in relation to their ethnic and class identities—but that also the history of sexuality is very non-linear and I think queerness is less shocking and scandalous to them than it would have been to someone more upper-class who didn’t grow up in the Lower East Side, or to someone more rural, or to someone who was more “inside” the social framework of the time, as opposed to being forced outside of it already by class, ethnicity, and criminality.

Finally, and most importantly, they should KISS!!!!

[sadaboutniall]

happy halloween! 👻 here’s a quickie little yn x niall fic to celebrate my fave holiday! this song is the vibe, if you want some listening to go along with.

the moon laughs and whispers, ‘tis near Halloween

Unsurprisingly, Halloween is perfectly at home in Edinburgh. The night is dark and damp, a pervasive chill hanging in the air as you and your friends rush  drunkenly along the cobblestone street, rain hitting the backs of your necks, and  warm, golden lamplight from flats above trickling out onto the dark stone. The city is as alive as it always is—alive in a way that feels like a million different lives, like it somehow knows both the past and the future, like it’s holding you close but also hurtling you forward. It feels like tonight is a special night—and, although you have no real reason to think this Halloween will be different from any other Halloween, you let that feeling in, let it settle into your bones and carry you forward toward the party. 

It had been Fiona’s idea, going to the football squad’s Halloween party. Your other friends had championed a pub crawl or a scary movie night at the flat, but Fiona’d heard about the football party and, knowing the keeper she’s been crushing on would surely be there, insisted. And now you’re here, drunk in a witch costume on a dark October eve, your pointed hat barely keeping the rain off your face, orange and brown leaves crunching under the heel of your boots  as you pick up the pace and run toward the party, giggling into the night.

The football house is packed even fuller than you’d imagined it would be, the air thick with the smell of beer and weed and Fiona, dressed as Posh Spice, spots the keeper just milliseconds after your group ducks into the party, disappearing in a flurry of rhinestones. It leaves just three of you—Fleur, Amina, and yourself—standing in the middle of a heaving party, first years entirely out of their element. 

“Drinks?” Fleur, dressed as a zombie bride, asks. 

“Drinks.” Echoes Amina, the antennas on her alien costume bobbing as she nods her head. 

The three of you clasp hands so as not to lose each other and Fleur leads the way, zig zagging through the crowd of goblins and ghouls and strangely sexual Boris Johnson costumes until she finds the kitchen, a dark, damp little room with one, singular coffin shaped window above the sink and no furniture save for a wooden table in the middle of the room, without a single chair. Atop the table sits a literal cauldron, cast iron and all, with a pink liquid gently swaying inside. 

“Ick,” says Amina, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. “Boys.”

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here for a hundred years,” you say, voice low. Something about the room makes you feel like you’ve travelled a million miles away from the party, just on the other side of the door. You can’t hear a thing in here—just the pitter patter of the rain against the window, and the creaking of the floorboards as Fleur steps forward.

“That’s probably true,” she laughs, peering into the cauldron. “I bet none of these lads can cook. They must order Nando’s every night.”

“Probably,” Amina agrees, stepping forward to peer over Fleur’s shoulder. “At least they went through the effort of making a mixed drink, though. I’m far too bloated for a beer.”

“Aye,” Fleur’s Scottish accent thickens when she’s drunk, but it sounds even thicker all of a sudden. “Commitment to the theme as well.”

“It smells lovely,” says Amina, shutting her eyes as she smiles. “Like roses.”

“Really?” Fleur says, as you step deeper into the kitchen and join them around the cauldron. “I reckon it smells like chocolate.”

You lean forward, too, despite yourself. The scent of the drink is intoxicating—neither roses nor chocolate but, you think, the distinct smell of a chilly day by the sea: salt air and a rising tide and it’s more like a memory than a scent, a moment in time, the most peculiar sense of deja vu. Whatever it is, it’s not the kind of smell that should be coming from a mixed drink at a house party. Whatever it is, you don’t want to step away from it.

The three of you—the witch, the bride, and the alien—stand over the cauldron for a long moment, breathing it in. There is no sound beyond the rain outside, no semblance of the party raging beyond the kitchen door. It’s just the three of you, this cold, quiet room, and the strangely comforting feeling that you are, after all, not alone. 

“Are there any cups?” Amina speaks first, glancing up at you, across the table from her. Her brown eyes are glassy, her gaze faraway. 

“Cups,” you echo, a little floaty, your mind still by the seaside. “Right. Let me find some.”

The room’s only cabinets flank the sink and the single window, one on each side. You find the first cabinet empty except for a shimmery spider web and an old looking candle, but the second holds exactly what you’re looking for: three cocktail glasses, set on the shelf in a pretty row, glinting despite the dingy light. Perfect.

“Bingo!” You say, turning back toward your friends. “And only three left anyw—guys?”

The room is empty. 

The cauldron still sits atop the table, its intoxicating smell strong as ever, but your friends are not where you left them, twenty seconds ago, when you turned toward the cabinets. Your friends are not anywhere in sight. 

“Guys?” You call out again, taking one step forward. “You’re so not funny. I found cups.”

Silence.

“Fleur? Amina?” You step forward again, toward the center of the room, toward the drink. “You want a drink, or no?” 

Still, silence—somehow more silent than before. Even the rain sounds like it’s whispering. 

“This is fucking freaky,” you say, one last shot, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. “You guys win, I’m fully freaked out, Happy Halloween.”

Silence. Stillness. A sudden, oppressive need to get out of this room. 

Quick as a cat, you do. 

-- 

When you step back through the door and out into the party, alone, it’s like you were never gone. In fact, it’s a bit like time has stopped—the party is just as packed as it was when you arrived, and you’re pretty sure the same song is still blasting through the speakers. Confused but ignoring it, you start to push your way through the crowd, in search of your friends.

A few steps deeper into the crowd and you spot a sliding back door. It makes perfect sense to you, the idea of Fleur and Amina slipping out into the backyard for some air, so you head straight for it, stepping out into the chilly, dark night. 

The rain has mostly stopped, though the leafy  ground is still damp beneath your feet and the air feels wet, like it could begin again at any moment. Although it’s dark, you can see well enough—the yard is illuminated by a group of jack o’lanterns lined up along the back brick wall, and fairy lights strung between trees, casting a warm, flickering aura—and it’s immediately clear that Amina and Fleur are not out here. In fact, no one is. 

You turn around to head back inside, pulling your phone out of your pocket as you do. And that’s when you walk right into him. 

“Lads, are you—oof. Deo, you eejit—shit, you’re not, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” 

“I—” you step back to collect yourself for a moment, eyes trailing up the hard chest you just stumbled straight into. It’s just a guy—blonde hair, bright blue eyes, thick Irish accent—but there’s something about him that keeps you rooted to your spot. Something about him that feels safer than going back inside. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He rushes, when you don’t answer. I should’ve been looking, I’m so sorry.” 

“No, no,” you manage. “I’m fine. It was my fault anyway, was looking at my phone. Are you okay? You sounded, like, worried?” You don’t know this man, you have no idea what his worried sounds like. But you can’t stop yourself from saying it. 

“Can’t find my mates anywhere,” the stranger says, eyes sweeping the backyard over your head. “It’s like they fucking vanished.”

“I lost my friends too,” you echo, turning to look with him, though you know you’ll only find an empty yard. “I thought they might be out here, but nothing.”

“Two lost souls,” says the stranger, a smile in his voice. When you turn back around he’s pulling at his phone, saying, “I’m just going to text them and tell them I’m out here. They can come find me.”

“I was about to do the same,” you tell him, glancing down at your phone in your hands to shoot off the text. “There are way too many people in there.” 

“Wanna wait it out together?” He looks up from his phone, a smile on his face. It brings out one tiny dimple, and sets your heart moving a little faster. “I’m Niall.” 

“I’m a witch,” you smile back at him and he laughs, blue eyes trailing down your body once. It sends a jolt of something through you, makes you hope the flush creeping up your face isn’t visible in the flickering light. 

“Have you got any powers?” Asks Niall, his eyes moving back up to meet yours. The blue is stunningly bright, even in the darkness. 

“That’s for me to know,” you say, more smoothly than you ever imagined. “And you to find out. What’s your costume?”

“You can’t tell?” He glances down at himself, dressed in double denim with an American flag bandana tied around his neck. “Bruce Springsteen.”

“Right,” you nod, though it wasn’t obvious to you at all. “Course. You need to work on that accent, though.” 

“Do I?” He raises an eyebrow, and adopts a surprisingly good—if over exaggerated—New Jersey accent. “I’m pretty proud of it, honestly. Been convincing people that it’s real all night.”

It’s not all that difficult for you to believe, actually, a bunch of drunk Brits buying into a fake, over the top, American accent without a single question. Instead, you ask him, “is there a tragic backstory, then? To go along with the tragic attempt at an accent?”

Niall laughs, bold and loud into the dark night, and suddenly you realize how entirely unafraid you feel with him—how you’d been on edge since the moment you stepped into the party but now that’s gone, evaporated, replaced, with a warm feeling in your belly and Niall’s infectious laughter. You bring your drink up to your lips and take a sip before you realize yet another thing: you have no memory of filling up your cup before leaving the kitchen. 

Across from you, Niall’s clutching what looks like a pint of Guinness, which is a drink that makes very little sense at a house party. The more you think about it, the less of the night makes sense. You shake your head to push it away, not quite ready to give this up just yet. 

Under the golden, flickering light from the jack o'lanterns,  you study Niall: the way his freckles sprinkle across his thick neck, how his roots are so much darker than the blonde at his tips, the tuft of chest hair peeking out from where his denim shirt is unbuttoned—everything about him leaves you breathless, desperate, longing, attracted to him in a way you’ve never experienced before. You feel, distinctly, that you are both supposed to be here, tonight, alone, together. 

You feel, distinctly, that something went out if its way to make sure this would happen. 

And maybe it’s the drink—the mysterious thing that smells like sea salt to you and roses to Amina—but here, with the wind rising around you and the night settling in, you have the distinct feeling that Niall is on the exact same page. 

“I have the strangest feeling,” Niall says, voice dropping to something like a whisper. Behind him, leaves rustle as the wind blows a strong, measured gust though the garden. “We haven’t met before, have we?”

“I don’t think so,” you can’t look anywhere other than Niall’s eyes. “But I know what you mean.”

Niall nods, taking one step forward to lessen the gap between you. He’s so close you can smell him: warm and musky and soft and something else, too—something that reminds you of salt air and days by the sea. “I just feel like,” he says, and you nod. 

“Me too.”

Far, far away someone calls your name, but you can’t stop looking at Niall, stepping closer and closer to him with every distant shout of your name. The shouting grows louder and louder until it’s impossible to ignore, although Niall doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at all. You open your mouth to ask him if he can hear it too, but before you get the chance something shakes your shoulder, calls your name one more time, and you open your eyes. 

“Jesus,” says Amina, a mixture of relief and concern clouding her features. “You are impossible to wake up.”

“I’m—what?” You sit up in bed, head foggy, limbs heavy. “Fuck, what time is it?”

“Noon,” Amina pulls out her phone to check. “We’re gonna be late for our brunch reservations, that’s why I came to wake you up.”

“Oh,” you rub your eyes, shaking your head to try to bring yourself back down to Earth. “I was having such a vivid dream, sorry.”

“It’s cool, just hurry up.” Amina makes her way to your bedroom door, but pauses before she steps back out into the hallway. “Oh, by the way, Fiona said there’s a Halloween party at the football house tonight and she’s fucking desperate to go since she fancies the keeper. Could be fun, no?” 

-- 

On Halloween night, dressed as a witch, you stand in the backyard of the football house with your friends. The yard is illuminated by jack o’lanterns and fairy lights and Fiona is off snogging the keeper upstairs and you feel warm and safe and happy, despite the autumnal chill in the air. As Fleur tells your small group a story about the weird couple sitting across from you at brunch today, you drop your head back to stare up at the night sky, sprinkled with stars, and the full moon peeking out over the clouds. It feels like you are supposed to be here tonight. You exhale, watching your breath fog with the cold and curl in the air above you. 

“I’m going to refill my drink,” you say, smiling at the small group you’ve been standing with. You can feel something budding between Fleur and the pretty girl she’s been chatting to, dressed as Britney Spears, and you want to give them a moment alone. Fleur flashes you a grateful smile as you walk away.

Back inside, you locate the entirely normal kitchen, bright and airy and crowded, with a coffin-shaped window above the sink, and pull open the fridge to grab a beer from the stock inside. When you shut the door, there’s someone standing on the other side. 

He’s dressed as Bruce Springsteen, double denim and an American flag bandana around his neck. He’s blonde hair with dark roots, and bright blue eyes. He’s staring right at you, with an unmistakable look of recognition on his face. 

“Hi,” he says, stepping forward to lessen the gap between you and him. He smells warm and musky and safe—with a whiff of something like salt air.  “Sorry if this is a bit weird, but I’m Niall. Have we—have we met before?”

####

sources for images: 1, 2, 3

[shinymooncolor]

hey! you don’t have to answer this, but i know close to nothing about hockey and my family and i have never really watched it and i’m starting to get very interested, but i have no idea where to start 😅 what do you think i should focus on first, as a newbie? what should i absolutely know as a fan? what teams are pretty good in your opinion? again, thanks for your help if ever you see this p.s: i really love your posts and they bring a smile to me face, so thank you for your hard work! <3

Hi!

Ohhh well. First of all. Welcome to the nerve wracking, nail biting, jaw clenching, gut wrenching, heartbreaking and utterly incredible world of (ice) hockey. Angry muscle machines on skates chasing a tiny rubber puck in the nhl and their goddess equivalents in wnhl - what’s not to love?

You’ve decided on a hell of a year to join. Due to Covid, the normal system was paused and a recent bubble playoffs series played and later won by Tampa Bay Lightning a few weeks ago. The new season would’ve begun last week but is currently expected to start around December.

I’d say the best starting point would be to watch some games - YouTube has a lot of highlights, game compilations etc. and browse hockey tumblr. Hockey tumblr is a great combination of hockey gossip, game reviews, fans sharing their love, passion and (hateful) opinions about players, clubs and the sport in general.

My personal team faves are a handful - you see, the league is “split” into two conferences - east and west and within here a few other divisions dictating who the teams will play on a more recent basis. The clubs in the nhl being split over North America and Canada means a lot of ground to cover and therefore it’s split like this - time zones, distance and whatever. So maybe decide on a conference first? East or west.

I’m an eastern conference gal meself, but the west sure has its merits too.

So. Teams. You’re about to start a rumble here 😂

I am a personal fan of the Pittsburgh Penguins 🐧 they play good hockey, in spite of their idiot general manager (I’ve got posts detailing why he’s an ass hat extraordinarie). They’re captained by Canada’s hockey savior, Sidney Crosby: hockey robot, yellow crocs enthusiast , triple gold member (youngest captain to get all three?) and the goodest boy in the league. He’s been heralded as the next great one yada yada since he was about 5? And shot pucks into a dryer back in Canada - with that came a lot of shit for the poor guy who, in his own words, just wants to play hockey. And he’s good. He’s got his team of French Canadian d-men (letang, dumo), a whole lot of goalie drama which seems to be a pattern and his Russian (husband) assistant captain Evgeni Malkin who’s got the cutest kid, a really cool wifey (seriously her insta is 10000 better than geno’s own) and a wicked sense of humor which he conviently hides behind his “English big bad today” excuse to avoid media on a daily basis (he’s played this card since his wild escape and temporary defection from Russia back in 2006) seriously google it. It’s wild. They’ve won three cups since 2009, they’re contenders in the playoffs most years and their pr department provides some hilarious videos of captain Canada and his Russian (husband) A. It’s a true love story. Sue me. We’ve got an intense rivalry with philly and the caps. Seriously. That orange flyers jersey is intense - even if philly’s mascot is the next president.

Funnily enough, my strange obsession with Russian hockey players have led to the most disturbing but developing club crush on the Washington capitals who are the penguins’ nemesis.

I mean, this club led by the one and only gr8 8 mr Alexander Ovechkin is a rollercoaster of emotion and hot daddies in skates armed with sticks and a murder Swede.

So. Washington caps used to be a joke in the league until they went and drafted mr ovechkin first overall, brought him to the capital and let him do his thing. He’s got a rep for being a hell of a lot of fun on the ice (if you’re on his team) and one of those players that people love to hate (even if they can’t take away how freakishly good he is at hockey) - look up his impossible goal(s)! He’s an exuberant, fun loving Russian with a heart of gold and a missing tooth. In 2007, the caps went shopping for a center just for ovi who needed a playmaker and a slap shot feeeder - they went and drafted the Swedish angel (maybe assassin) (Lars) Nicklas Backstrom - and the purest hockey marriage was forged. The actual words (we needed a center for ovi and ovi wanted backstrom) have been said. Yes, these two Are now famously the mama and papa of the caps and they have a roster of unruly (and handsome) hockey babies with the fighting menace Tom Wilson, bird impersonator and Russian cat Evgeni Kuznetzov and a whole army of other adorable (albeit hockey playing menaces) babies. Most recently they had the leagues daddiest daddy goalie Mr Holtbeast as the fun and handsome canadien cowboy uncle but he’s ventured to Vancouver to adopt a new group of hockey babies. To compensate, the caps went shopping in New York and brought the one and only king Henrik from the crease in msg to be the goalie mentor for baby Russian caps goalie and to keep the daddy energy flowing.

(Seriously why are Swedish players part time models? Their national team strategy is to be so handsome the other teams are distracted. It’s a thing. Look it up)

I also love a handful of other players on other teams (I really don’t dislike any team in particular - but you’ll meet some dedicated and strong minded fans here)

Erik Horse Johnson, Cale Makar and Nikita Zadorov (Colorado Avs - zad have recently been traded to the blackhawks (not sure how I feel about that). Phwucking fun team. Who needs teeth anyways.

Marc Andre Fleury (Vegas now but hell always be a penguin to me)

The Russian gang in Tampa - and giant Swede victor Hedman (seriously he’s massive)

The canes (Carolina) and their collective of Finnish and Russian babies (aho, svech) with chaotic Marty and former penguin Baby Staal as captain

And a whole lot of others too. It’s hard to choose.

The Dallas stars and the most precious bean of them all (Russian) dobby - Anton khudobin their backup goalie turned playoffs hero and fashion icon. The man said we’re not going home and threw the entire team on his back and dragged them to the final. And their homoerotically charged captain and his alt captain and their Hollywood epic soap worthy relationship. Stallions, people, Stallions...

Btw we like to project our brash queerness onto this league. You’ll learn why quickly. There’s only so much talks about hot hands, slick moves, eternal love for teammates and quite frankly obscene (sexy) amounts of kneeling, roughing (let’s face its it’s just aggressive cuddling) and teammates honorably defending teammates.

Anyways. I love hockey. He. Sorry.

Fun fact I’ve dragged @canesinthecrease kicking and screaming into the hellhole that is the caps and I’m working on convincing @dontpuckwithme about the incredibly sexy thing that is Russians and Canadians being secretly married in Pittsburgh.

Great, sexy, amazing, cool, smart and wonderful hockey ladies to follow for even more amazing content on more clubs (the hurricanes - also a team I’m starting to love). They’re my queer sherpas and emotional support network.

Hope you can use this dear (new) hockey friend and mutual 💖🐧

[pierrelucdisaster]

So, yesterday, I went to select a seat for my season tickets. It felt so unbelievably nice to back inside of an arena I became attached to in the short span of two months last year.

I went back to the seats I used to sit in. Row A, middle section, glass seats. The seats I watched Cal Petersen in and after he was called up it was where I creeped on Matt Luff and Mikey Eyssimont during warm ups and games. The seats where Gio Fiore, at my last game, shot the puck directly at the glass where my face was and then stared me down as I recorded the whole thing on my phone. (I still think about that interaction often.)

The seats where I dragged anyone that wanted to join me to games, to the AHL all star game, to early afternoon and 7 pm games. Those seats were so great. I loved them. They were taken up already and also had a hefty price but after standing there reminiscing I decided to move sections. My time there was up. They weren't for me anymore.

Also, this picture lol

I moved to the other side of the arena. Directly across from the bench, near the penalty boxes. A new seat to make new memories in, a new seat to see the game differently, a new seat to pine over someone else in lol. A seat to plot how I'm going to murder project all my feelings onto Brayden Burke. (I am sorry Brayden, it's a habit now)

And maybe that's been the theme in the year and a half I've had these tickets. I never had the chance to use them, I left the arena in late February not knowing I wouldn't come back, not knowing I'd miss a whole season in person, not knowing my favorite players I loved to watch wouldn't be around and not bc they got called up but bc they moved on... having to... after spending years developing and perfecting their game eventually for nothing here. The fact things just happen suddenly and we need to adapt. That life moves in ebbs and flows. That a small change, like sitting on the opposite side of an arena, a new player to grow an infatuation for, will be exciting enough to continue on this new chapter.

I look back to those first two months of 2020 and think about all the fun I had. All the memories I made. All the players I got to see. I'm grateful and I'm happy. I'll miss my two favorites the most, absolutely but I'm excited for what's next. I'm hoping they make their new teams out of training camp and that Eyssimont is on the Jets (omg I almost threw up writing that ugh) when they come play and I can finally see him in an NHL jersey I'd always hope he'd be in. I'll miss him and I'll miss Luff but that's hockey, baby. Your faves aren't staying forever. Ok maybe Cal might lol.

I'm excited for the future. I hate change but maybe they'll make that Eyssimont jersey I had my eye on a lot cheaper lol oh maybe they'll have it at the equipment sale omg 😳

[bronanlynch]

beam saber recap time: an ex-osha inspector and an ex-mech sports athlete walk into a secret underground bunker full of scientists who hate each other and now they’re all snowed in together! what happens next will shock you!

(technically a christmas episode, depending on how you define christmas episodes)

starting off strong with kay @girlfriendsofthegalaxy saying concerning sentences to me: “I’ve been playing red dead redemption so I’ve been looking up a lot of pinkerton manuals about union busting” “I love where this is going” “don’t worry about”

“unions?? in my god-fearing underground base??? it’s more likely than you think”

accidentally gave an npc a slightly stronger version of my new jersey accent, which I guess is fair considering they’re an archaeologist who’s trying to unionize so it that not just a self-insert oc at this point

zan @duckswithwings: “that’s my secret, cap, I’ve always been from new jersey”

reappearance of the artist formerly known as hawthorne march aka ballad imperative aka herculine vane

v bought her silence by asking her out on a date. love this awkward fraught spy romance we’ve got going on here

a very fun conversation between v and her rival, holliday rue. I love playing holliday she’s so awful. I didn’t transcribe everything we said but. some highlights

Holliday: “We need to talk”

V: “do we, what do we need to talk about”

Holliday: “I think it will be relevant to your interests”

V: “Relevant to my interests, right, because you know so much about those”

Holliday: “is your continued self-preservation not still relevant to your interests?”

(some stuff that I didn’t transcribe because I started paraphrasing, holliday is threatening to tell someone that v’s been doing shit she’s not supposed to, and saying that she knows v’s up to something, at some point v says “and yeah I am up to things, because I’m a spy”)

V: “I thought you were smarter than to threaten a spy with a gun, my expectations for you were low, the bar was on the ground, but now it’s in the bunker we’re in”

Holliday: “valentine, darling, I thought you were smarter than to assume that I don’t have a gun”

V: “you might have a gun but do you have a bulletproof vest”

Holliday: “think about this sensibly, if you were to shoot me in a crowded room, imagine how that would look”

helpful aside from zan suggesting that v doesn’t need to shoot her and can just stab her with a poison volt meter

kay: “How do I give my rival food poisoning”

V: “Only one of us is a dedicated decorated civil servant (I’m lying, they don’t give spies medals)”

Holliday: “and yet only one of us was forced to resign in disgrace”

the other fun thing abt that conversation is that while v is having a miserable awful time, indigo is arranging a threesome in the background because they’re snowed in and he’s gonna live his best tropiest life

I think this was a mission where I did a little bit too much prep and had things a little too complicated in my notes but I like how it turned out and like. which parts of my planning I decided to keep

especially happy with how some of the stuff with hawthorne/herculine turned out, and the part about her helping some other spies defect from the empire as a way of showing the party one potential way out for them

and then also managing to include some stuff that I wasn’t sure how to fit in until indigo started flirting with some of the people who were defecting, so now he knows that some of them want to join the cirque du soldat, the independent squad his twin belongs to

my other fave moment as a gm this session was when I said that a certain npc would probably join another faction instead of going independent, and I have in my notes that it’s because she likes belonging to a military hierarchy, and before I said that zan said “yeah, makes sense, she seems like she likes the structure” which. love when I can characterize relatively minor npcs well enough that my players pick up on what their motivations are

zan made sure to establish that indigo still had the orb in his pocket during any and all seducing he was doing, leading kay to call him a nevernude and me to say the horrible sentence “instead of leave room for jesus, leave room for the orb”

indigo installed the orb into his mech and then bonded with it like he’s the protagonist of a horse girl movie

my game mechanics answer to what having a sentient orb installed into your mech does was “a mech can make a move at any time”

indigo took one of his several boyfriends on a date

zan: “Have I learned anything about Dr. Boyfriend” me: “yeah his name maybe”

v is having trouble buying a house because her credit score is bad because she’s a spy who lives on a secret base and legally doesn’t exist

zan and I kept saying a distorbance in the forbce and kay made increasingly distressed noises, sorry kay I need to say at least one cursed thing per session it’s how I reduce my stress