#I'm in the mood to bully these two specifically

[majorproblems77]

Breathe again

tw - Mentions of torture, aftermath of such torture, I bully sky and this is the result

If you'd have asked Warriors a year ago about the sounds he hated to hear it would be the sounds of his people screaming. Their cries haunted his nightmares for longer days than he could count.

Now?

The sound of his brother crying, made that list. The sound of them breaking down into apologies that they had to come back for him.

Today it was Sky. The skyloftian's Hands clawed into his tunic as tears welled and snot dripped from his nose. Rocking him from side to side he kept his breathing slow and steady.

Sky, the infallible. Sky was the one with who everyone could shoulder their burdens. And now Sky Was crying in his arms.

The others were here, nearby. Sounding off gentle sounds of encouragement at the skyloftian. Sounds like finality, finally letting him relax and breathe again.

He'd been taken hostage, tortured by the cultest of Hyrule's world. When they'd found him he was bloodied and bruised. He couldn't speak and was in all words. Dead to the world. The pain in his eyes.

The captain knew that pain.

Which is why he was here. Holding Sky tightly and promising to never let him go. Promising to never let him fall into the darkness underground. So that he could always see his namesake that made the man feel so safe.

The captain was never seen as a hugger by the others. That usually befell their resident skyloftian after all. But right now. Seeing him bundled underneath Twilight's pelt, his own Royal scarf and the sailcloth made him think. Just how vulnerable the man was.

How they all were.

Sky was all of twenty. Twenty. And he'd gone through so much to get to where he was. Brought his people to the surface and changed the course of Hylian history forever.

When he was twenty he was in the middle of a civil war. Changing the course of history... There seemed to be a theme here.

Sky took a shuddering breath as he curled inward. The movement made the captain grip him tighter as he could hear the shuddering cries of the man below him. The babbles of apologies long since faded.

the captain didn't feel the need to speak as he weaved his scarf around the skyloftian again. Settling more against the tree he was leaning against. Tightly holding the skyloftian as he settled into a sleep brought on by an adrenaline crash.

Sky might have been twenty, but right now he reminded the captain of a small child he had found in the depths of the castle ruins. Cold and broken he carried the boy back to camp where Impa had taken him to the castle, where he remains to this day.

As sky's body relaxed as he fell into a slumber, breathing deeply. The captains did too. Trying not to make the skyloftian feel too restricted. His eyes looked up to Time who had settled beside them, and placed a hand into the Skyloftian hair, a gesture they often used to calm the skyloftian down.

They remained like this for the remainder of the night, one by one the rest of the chain had joined them, wind and four draping themselves over the skyloftian while the rest huddled around the sides of them.

At least the skyloftian seemed to be breathing properly again.

[sincerely-sofie]

Thinking about @gehtsis’s children and how terrifying it would be to get their team assigned to help you escape from a mystery dungeon.

If these are what my heroes look like I'm 99% certain I'd be screaming and running the other way. Menacing cryptid-looking grim reaper and cursed psychic clay doll. I love them.

[nobody-nexus]

What your fav TADC ship says about you- UPDATED!

-> Note: these are for fun! Do not take any of this seriously<-

Edit: Don't tell me if I missed any ships I'm not updating this

Pomni x Caine: You love the inherent romanticism of being too aware at all times x Being completely unaware of everything at all times

Pomni x Ragatha: You love the idea of someone being so pathetically devoted to another that you can't see them with anyone else

Pomni x Jax: You think the way to someone's heart is insulting before sharing a kiss and a cigarette

Pomni x Gangle: You knew the moment that Pomni was indirectly the reason for Gangle's mask breaking that it was love

Pomni x Zooble: You believe in the inherent romanticism of just not giving a flying fuck anymore but together

Pomni x Loolilalu: You haven't seen episode 2 yet. That or you just want all of the sapphic ships

Pomni x Gummigoo: You are very much into the idea of THE fruitiest straight passing couple of all time

Pomni x Kaufmo: You took that one fact that they would've actually gotten along with each other and ran with it

Pomni x Exit: You came from the Danganronpa fandom

Pomni x Sun: You are into swap AUs. We know the scene. And we know what you are

Ragatha x Jax: I dunno which one you wanna bang, but all I know is that you wanna bang ONE of them

Ragatha x Gangle: You just want them to be happy for ONCE dammit! Also you're probably anhopeless romantic

Ragatha x Loolilalu: You do not CARE if they only had 20 seconds of screen time together, you WANT THEM TO KISS

Ragatha x Kaufmo: You most likely know a couple in real life where one makes jokes and the other is sick of it

Jax x Gangle: You were told that the bully had a crush on you and you still have not recovered from it

Jax x Zooble: You just want a couple who can and will do hijinx together whether they like it or not

Jax x Caine: I got no idea what you're into, but it is one of the straightest gay things I've seen

Jax x Gummigoo: You love the idea of an asshole twink being put in his place. Also you ship Montgomery with Bonnie

Jax x Kaufmo: You believe in the inherent romanticism of two pranksters causing complete mayhem together

Jax x The Fudge: You either are a HUGE crack shipper OR you are into a very SPECIFIC thing and I am judging

Jax x Bubble: There is no way you ship this in a genuine way. You are the master of crack shipping

Gangle x Zooble: There is at least a 70% chance that you have at least one mood board on Pinterest

Gangle x Caine: Apparently, you exist

Gangle x Loolilalu: Oh you definitely have NOT seen episode 2 yet

Kinger x Queenie: Let's be honest with ourselves for a moment. This is the closest to canon y'all are gonna get

Kinger x Caine: You are into yaoi, but like the wholesome kind instead of the super sex kind

Kinger x Gloink Queen: You are a MONSTER FUCKER

Kinger x Kaufmo: You decided that old man yaoi was the true answer to solve abstraction

Caine x Moon: There's a 90% chance that you know and love the movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Caine x Loolilalu: Your love for any canon interaction is overweighed by the need to fuck GOD

Caine x Gummigoo: You are purely in this community for the bara NSFW. I've seen it all... I KNOW

Sun x Moon: You like Steven Universe

Jax x Pomni x Ragatha: You either couldn't choose which one to ship, or you just wanna be Pomni

Jax x Pomni x Gummigoo: Same as the previous, but the chances of you being straight are way higher

Ragatha x Pomni x Loolilalu: Same as the last two, but the chances of you being a lesbian are way higher

Ragatha x Pomni x Gangle: You love the inherent romanticism of having one big group therapy session

Caine x Pomni x Ragatha: You don't actually ship Caine and Ragatha, you just want Pomni to top em both

Gangle x Jax x Zooble: You are @inkyprism

Sun x Moon x Caine: You just want Caine to have rizz.... He doesn't but whatever floats your boat

Jax x Airplane: You.... Are WAY too deep into this fandom

[rarityroo]

Dating Mirio Togata Hcs

(Mirio Togata x Gn!reader)

I made this while working on requests, I really love Mirio and was very happy to write him! This fic includes meeting Mirio, a confession, and a little bit of Eri appreciation at the end. I might make a part two with You, Mirio and Eri. Hopefully you like this too, to those who sent in requests they’re being down now and will be posted soon! Much love! 🫶🏻

– You became friends with Mirio sometime in middle school. You became his friend after defending his closest friend, Tamaki, from bullies during passing time. You had no clue why they were bullying him but you knew you had to stop them, that's what heroes do after all.

– Your whole young life you've wanted to be a hero, you wanted to be the absolute best anyone could be. You wanted to be a symbol of hope just like All-Might!

– Once you fended off Tamaki's bullies, he shakily thanked you and offered to walk you to your next class. You agreed, happy to have a new friend.

– As the two of you walked down the halls, a loud cheery voice boomed down the hallway, Tamaki jumped and you turned to see who it was, not knowing how much your life would change.

"Tamaki! Hey! C'mon Tamaki wait up!" A voice shouted through the halls, Tamaki looked startled at the volume of the voice but not at the voice itself, huh must know him, you thought as a look of recognition flashed over Tamaki's eyes. Once the owner's voice came into view it was like your world stopped, like this specific moment everything halted for a second. You suddenly became nervous and flustered, Tamaki noticed your sudden mood change and seemed confused, "H-Hi M-Mir-rio" Tamaki choked out, and despite him being so comfortable with Mirio he still struggled. "Hey! Who's this?," Mirio motions to you, you look over to Tamaki who looks nervous to be put on the spot so you take charge despite your own anxiety. "Hi!, I'm [Reader]!" You say politely, Mirio smiles at you, "I’m Mirio!" He states happily, "Where are you two headed too?" Mirio asks, "Oh, Tamaki and I are walking to my next class, you can come too if you want." You offer, "Sure sounds fun!" Mirio says.

– After that day you, Tamaki, and Mirio would hang out daily until you got to high school. You all got into UA, a lifelong dream of yours. Sure you were all still friends but with the workload and varying schedules, finding time to hang out as a group was hard.

– So you and Mirio could usually hang out one-on-one although it was very rare. And with every hangout, you noticed how much you liked Mirio.

– Anytime he held the door open for you, pulled out your chair, trained with you, and studied with you, you could feel your little crush deepen into something much more. So you invited him out for a 'study date', planning to confess.

You walked into the Cafe, books in hand, you walked from the door to a small rounded table in the back of the Cafe. You sat your books down and went up to order. After ordering, you sat with your drink waiting, anxiety flushing through you as you saw Mirio walk through the Cafe his eyes scanning the area, his eyes glimmering with happiness when he saw you.

Mirio being himself launched into enthusiastic conversation, his company alone was enough to ease the tension coiling inside you. You found yourself drawn into his infectious energy, your fears of what's to come melting away in his company. The café seemed brighter, warmer somehow, with him with you. Time seemed to slip away as you chatted and laughed, lost in each other's company. And then, as the conversation lulled, a moment of quiet settled between you. Mirio's gaze softened as he looked at you, a gentle smile started at the corners of his lips.

"Hey, can I tell you something?" Mirio's voice was soft, almost hesitant as if he was afraid of being too abrupt, years of knowing you would never dull his anxiety of being around you.

You nodded, "Of course," you whispered, hardly daring to breathe as you waited for his words. Mirio took a deep breath, his gaze leading to the table. "I... I really like you," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. What!?? You were so shocked, could he actually have feelings for you, just like you secretly had for him? The thought sent a rush of excitement coursing through you, mixed with a sense of disbelief.

"I've liked you for a while now, and I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore."

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, a flood of warmth going through you at his words. You took a moment to gather your courage, then reached out to gently touch his hand. "Mirio, I..I like you too"

Mirio's eyes widened in surprise, his smile growing wider with each passing moment. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

You nodded, a shy smile spreading across your face. "Yes, really," you confirmed, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders as you finally confessed your feelings.

– Mirio is a fantastic boyfriend. Flowers, cute notes in your lunch whenever he has the time, and will often have a study date with you. He was so loving and supportive of you and anything you did or wanted to do. From hobbies to new styles, je was always your biggest fan.

– He was always so kind and gentle, so it was no surprise to you when he introduced you to a small timid girl, named Eri. The young girl, despite being shy and quiet took a great liking to you.

You sat at the dinner table at home quietly reading, your head popped up when you heard your front door opening, followed by Mirios voice paired with a smaller younger voice. Huh?

"Hey! babe! I'm home, there's someone I want you to meet!" Mirio everso sweetly called, you walk from the dining room to the living room shocked to see a small girl hiding behind Mirio, Mirio light nudged her, “Go on” Mirio encouraged smiling down at her, “Hi” she looked at the ground, “I’m Eri”, You smiled gently all questions you had put on halt when you heard her sweet little voice, “Hi Eri! I’m [Reader]”, Eri looked up at you and smiled the sweetest smile, something told you this was the start of something truly lovely.

[woominutes]

ko kyungjun as a boyfriend

he is THE hates everyone but you bf

bad boy with a soft spot for you kinda trope

just replace bad boy with bully

he doesn't go out of his way for anyone except you

princess treatment? you got it.

he'd make jinha and seungbin do the work when they are around lol

his love languages are;

acts of service

holding doors for you, buying you snacks, walking you home, helping you the week before and during your period. the things he does for you can erase any doubts that may arise in your head about his feelings for you.

he might hold back sometimes to not appear as a simp and maintain his reputation as the tough bully though.

physical touch

always has his hands on you in a way, mostly around the waist or shoulders. it is a sign of affection but also ownership as he wants to make your relationship known to other boys so they don't even dare to make a move.

also having you on his lap, he loves that. especially during recess at school, you can be found sitting on him while he zones out or talks with jinha and seungbin.

and quality time

asking you to hang out after school, inviting you to his place to chill, tagging along when you have errands to run if he is in the mood for it.

this guy literally walks away from people and situations when he doesn't care to be bothered so spending his time on/with someone definitely means something.

now about gift giving

i don't think he'd put a lot of thought into gifts. on specific occasions like anniversaries or trying to impress you, yes, but nothing too fancy otherwise.

however, you'd get little things; like a flower from a random garden he passed by from.

in my eyes, he's a casual sharer in a relationship

what is his is yours, his basketball sneakers being the only exception. food, clothes, his bed, his heart, everything.

you like his jacket? you'll share it back and forth, one week his and two weeks yours. you like his hoodie? take it. you like his shirt? wear it (but bring it back after a month and borrow another). you like his earrings? you can wear the right one and he'll wear the left one.

words of affirmation is not something he is good at

it's hard for him to express himself. he can throw a few playful sweet words here and there but rarely gets serious. he has his moments, especially after intimate situations with intense feelings, but they're few.

rarely says "i love you", he shows it instead.

he'd be the one to secretly need words of affirmation despite denying it

not too much praise though, he'll get cocky

bro felt love for the first time and his world changed #canon

such a show-off, especially with basketball

"this is for you" *misses the shot*

once threw the ball in hyunho's face because you were looking at the poor boy for too long and kyungjun got jealous

cue nahee running to help hyunho with his bloody nose

he eliminates your worries when he can

(we all know how I'm talking about)

tending to his wounds whenever he gets injured

insecure hence extreme jealousy

someone looks at you for too long? glares at them. someone talks to you? either waves them off or mocks them when they leave. someone confesses to you? they get threats as a warning. someone touches you? disappeared from the face of earth.

i could actually see him wanting to kill other boys out of jealousy but he'll hold himself back by giving them a light beating instead.

"me? jealous? ha! I'm better than that asshole"

yeah yeah sure

bro is so aggressive

you'd most likely have to witness a lot of outbursts of anger

but he apologises after, usually

intended empty words or not, you'll witness his wrath again because that is his reaction to almost everything that inconveniences him

he's throwing things and punching walls

BUT NEVER EVER hits you

even if he unconsciously shoves you, he regrets it immediately

many, mostly minor, arguments because of misunderstandings and lack of communication

he is not very confrontational when it comes to a relationship, either because he doesn't want to appear vulnerable and clingy or he doesn't know how to express himself and figure out why he is feeling the way he does.

when his hidden feelings of insecurity and discomfort bubble up, it's hell for the both of you. screaming, crying, him acting like he doesn't care to protect himself.

and his impulsivity makes it harder to make up sometimes

he might say hurtful things out of anger that will keep you away from him for a while but he rarely actually means them, it's just his defense and illusion of security.

possessive and slightly controlling

he cares too much when he considers his relationship serious and it's not just him fooling around.

unfortunately, he'll use manipulation when he wants something badly or to convince you of something. if you call him out, he'll drop the act and most likely get annoyed.

he needs a lot of work when it comes to the negative aspects of his personality for a healthy relationship to exist

he is not too much of a bad guy, he just has issues

and needs therapy

passionate makeout sessions

those big palms and veiny hands know how to grip. he's the dominant one and he won't have it any other way, wanting to have power and control over the pace and movements.

high libido, that's all i'm apparently allowed to say :P

learns and remembers a lot about you

especially your habits and quirks

if you smoke too;

he'll share his cigarettes with you

and steal a couple of yours when he is out of his

if you hate smoking;

LIKE LITERALLY CANNOT BREATHE AROUND SMOKERS

he'll make an effort to not smoke when you are present

brushes his teeth or eats a piece of gum before he kisses you if he meets you after smoking <3

can't have you thinking he is gross smh

if you're short;

he definitely teases you about your height

picks you up just for fun or carries you around like you weigh nothing

ties your shoelaces for you

playfully insulting each other and bantering all the time to show affection

you're the only one he actually listens to <3

you shove him or nudge him when he is being too mean to other people or crossing a line

still goes wild when you're not around

you are his lockscreen <3

not too much of a talkative texter

sort written replies but long voice messsages

oml that voice

sends you pics of himself all the time, expecting compliments and praise

shirtless mirror pics focusing on his abs? all yours. manspreading pictures? you got them. selfies in which he tries to appear tough but his cheeks and soft features make him look like the cutest boy you've ever seen? yep.

cares a lot about how you view him so he takes a lot of time to make sure he picks the right pics to send you.

let's not fool ourselves, he knows you love those muscles and he purposely puts them on display for you

cuddles with kyungjun are warm and tight, becoming one under a blanket

more of a motorcycle guy

buys you your own helmet <3

not one for fancy dates, maybe dinner here and there, but prefers casual hangouts

movie nights at his house, late night walks and rides, chilling at a convenience store after school.

just peaceful private moments.

pretends to not like cheesy couple things, such as matching outfits or pajamas, but they secretly warm his heart

he takes your gifts very seriously; wears them to please you or carries them around with him

get him a neck pillow

you have him wrapped around your finger no matter how much he denies it

jinha has gotten a good smack in the back of his head for voicing that fact multiple times

© to @woominutes on tumblr; do not repost or steal

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Five

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

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

WC: 17k (holy moly)

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

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Four)

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

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

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

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

Nico

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have money.”

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

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

“Not enough for what?”

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you dressed?”

Nico stops in his tracks.

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

But he hadn’t changed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talia. Hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He still doesn’t entirely understand the ethical part.

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How does it work then?” Nico asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

None of it is real.

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

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

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

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

She had accused him of ruining her life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poppy hasn’t messaged him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why didn’t he just wake her?

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just needs to get rid of Talia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t need their money-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is what she’s good at.

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

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

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

This feels like all those feelings.

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

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

He can put Poppy first.

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

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

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

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

It isn’t about what he wants.

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

Talia is right.

Poppy doesn’t deserve that.

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

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

He needs to see Poppy.

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

Poppy

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nico’s charm was entirely different.

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

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

And he became hers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Talia.

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

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

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

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

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

But it hadn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2 missed calls from Mom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poppy: I’ll be there!!

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you text him?”

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

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

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

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

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

But that changed once they graduated.

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

The kind of guy her mother would probably love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poppy thinks she would have to flee the state.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t fear confrontation.”

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

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

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

Poppy rolls her eyes.  

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

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

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

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

It was desperate.

And maybe that scared him.

It sure as hell scares her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She does.

She knows Nico, she trusts him.

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

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

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

“You’d make such a good WAG, Kels.”

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

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

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

But he never seeks her out like this.

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

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

Especially on his incredibly rare day off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you coming or not?”

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

“Well done.”

“Oh! Then absolutely not.”

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

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

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

Bingo. He’s hiding something.

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

Unless-

“You’ve seen him?”

“This morning.”

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we talk?”

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

Nothing good ever comes of can we talk?

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

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

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

She needs to be cool about this, she thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But a part of her feels it coming.

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

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

“For what?” She manages to choke out.

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

He’s sorry for last night.

Last night, he made a mistake.

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

“I care about you so much, Poppy.”

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

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

No, no, no.

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

“I love you-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Poppy,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she doesn’t want to hurt.

Looking at him hurts.

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

“I want you to leave.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter

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

[angelbowerz]

[ super specific my bad ]

can you write headcanons for henry bowers x a male reader? pref. w/ reader being all A's, popular, "prep" 🧎‍♂️‍➡️ -🕷

Henry Bowers with a VERY smart bf

-the first time he knew about you was when he moved to your class and the teacher is giving out test scores

"Wow y/n! A+ as usual"

*DEATH STARE*

-NOW he knows who you are, and youll be in alot of trouble at first with Mr Mulletman

-he'll force you to do his homework and since you have a crush on him..it would be a yes so he'll lay off you

-he either figured out you had a crush on him or somebody told him (probably Patrick)

-okay...let's be realistic, at first he'd be PISSED a boy has a crush on him. This is Henry Bowers we're talking about here

-but after a few weeks of calling you every slur in the book he'll find you, bully you, kiss you, then runs away as fast as possible 😭

*kisses you*

"I still hate you...QUEER!" *runs away*

The actual relationship

-he'd want it to be a secret for nobody to know, he'll think having a boyfriend would ruin his reputation

-he would NEVER take you to see Butch, you'll only be allowed around his house when Butch is away (only doing it because he loves you)

-you'll still be forced to do his homework, but he'll say it in a nicer way...

"Y/n. Do my homework."

"Okay :]"

"Hm. Good"

-in public he acts like such a dick to you but you know he doesn't mean it

-in private, especially in your house, he's VERY chill and sorta nice if you keep him talking long enough

-he will force you to sit next to him in EVERY class you have together...not to spend time with you, so he can copy your work

-'study dates' where he just watches you do all the work

-when Butch beats him, the first thing he'll do is go to your house and just hug the life outta you

-if he's in a venting mood (very rare) he'll probably express how he thinks its stupid about keeping the relationship private since you're both guys

-the only time he'll probably be affectionate in public is either

On Halloween when you're both wearing masks

If you're at a place where nobody ever goes to

-I'd say after around a year of you two being together he'll be more open about your relationship (tells his gang etc)

-if anyone even looks at you wrong, they'll get a good punch from henry

-his gang won't mind that he's dating you, but Patrick will either tease you or try doing stuff with you (if you know what i mean)

-when you tell Henry about Patrick, he'll literally beat Patrick so bad he nearly dies

-when you're having an argument with eachother (a bad one) he'll say some pretty mean stuff due to the fact you're both boys

"I only dated you because you're so desperate y/n! You think I'd actually love another guy?!?!"

-he doesn't mean it but, he'll always say stuff like that when he's having a hissy fit

-later on he'll apologise...in his own way

"I'M SORRY OKAY?! God Y/n! So damn emotional"

-let's say you was still together after graduation and you leave Derry together

-he'll be much more relaxed since he knows nobody in this new town/ Butch isn't there

-he'll FINALLY hold your hand/kiss you in public

-it will take a few years but..his temper will slowly go away and he'll become nicer

-buuuttt, since you're very smart...and he isn't, I could see you two breaking up in senior year since you wanna go to college and he doesn't, you have a very big argument over it where you break up with him

-if you never speak yo him again after that, he'll probably marry some girl who loves him to make Butch happy but in reality he wishes she was you

-regrets not begging you to take him back

-he'll forever miss you

[gemini-sensei]

I'm in a very Keene!Reader kind of mood. (@sensei-venus )

But specifically Reader where she's laid back and calm with an edge. Like she's fine and casual with most any situation but if one person crosses her or says something wrong, she gets so defensive. She'll use her words to tear someone down before she thinks about using her fists.

Also she's Robby's twin. And these two share just about everything with each other. They know what one another are thinking most of the time. They bully Johnny together when he tries parenting them and make sure he knows he has little authority over them. They also both have a thing for nerds but try to pretend they don't.

But Reader is making coffee when Demetri stumbles through the apartment one morning and she knows.

He sees her and tries to act casual. "Hi... bye." And just leaves.

Reader doesn't say anything until Robby comes out in his pj pants and a wrinkled tee shirt. She smirks at him, letting him know she saw his late night lover leave. He blushes and shoves her shoulder, telling her to shut up.

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. I know what you're thinking."

She just smirks and walks by him. "Now I know why you slept in..."

She isn't unscathed though. Robby sees the way she flirts with Hawk. It's disgusting and he doesn't let her forget it.

"Just don't bring him home," Robby will say with a grimace.

Reader huffs. "Don't tell me what to do. If you can bring your boyfriend home, so can I."

And no, Johnny doesn't know about his kids' boyfriends. He suspects something between Reader and Hawk, and he doesn't like it, but he just thinks Robby and Demetri are dude bros. If only he knew...

[kzele]

Unpopular TSSM Opinion

Sha-Shan was a better example of a serious moral compass love interest to Flash than Gwen was to, well, anybody.

The gal clearly has no problem turning a guy down until they've proven he isn't a too much of a douche. And she doesn't care how popular they are. If they make make the right, but hard choices, then they've got her interest.

Gwen, on the other hand, can’t seem to judge any of her friend’s moods or situations correctly and make an appropriate decision. For instance, whether as friends or love interests she and Harry are a dumpster fire. When the guy passes out in the courtyard and then avoids her, what does she do? Does she (a) tell her COP dad about it at home, (b) tell Harry’s father, (c) tell a teacher/coach/school counselor AKA any other figure in a position of actual authority? Nope. She tells Peter that something’s wrong with Harry, but doesn’t elaborate enough for him to take her concerns seriously, so he puts it among the lesser problems he has to deal with. Because if Peter was actually told the specifics, this would be MUCH higher on his problems list. There’s no way he’d have to be bullied into talking with Harry, otherwise. (Also, how is it possible that she couldn’t sense anything off about Eddie after he returned to the lab? He’s obviously creepy and fake and you’ve known him since you were both in single digits. If it was just Eddie this happened with, I wouldn’t be having my doubts about her judgement.)

This brings me to my next point about boundaries. Peter respects hers more than she respects his. Thus, she can only enforce her boundaries and/or will if someone already respects her. Harry and Gwen’s full-on couple status is proof. Harry’s shoved her against a locker, jumped over her during a villain attack (did he ever apologize for that?), and the first thing he does is ignore his new girlfriend in favor of calling his dad about having a girlfriend. Oh, and she’s ignoring all these red flags in an implied attempt to make Peter jealous. Nuff said about that ball of toxicity they got going on.

Flash saw Sha-Shan as a hot nerd/rebound, then as a challenge, and finally as someone whom he wants to be respected by. She didn’t let him get anywhere by being a jerk or overstepping. Granted, she had the benefit of not caring about Flash’s opinion of her, like Gwen would with long-time friends. And yet, despite being very judgy about him at the start, once they’re together she understands that Flash will say/do dumb things but it doesn’t take away from his good heart. Sha-Shan accepts him and his flaws. Ironically, despite Gwen being in love with Peter over Harry, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a time where she cuts Peter any slack for anything even when it’s not his fault. Including and up to not dying.(Not actually joking about that. See Christmas Tree aftermath s2ep3.) Maybe it’s just me, but I swear Harry and Eddie could be be kicking puppies off the Brooklynn Bridge in front of her and she’d be giving Peter the silent treatment for missing her calls trying to stop it.

I'm aware that Gwen isn't evil whatsoever but I find her immensely frustrating when TSSM has better female characters to choose from. And this post is for other people who agree with me. I'm not denying the flaws of anyone else here, be it Peter or Harry or whoever else, but I can't cover my thoughts on all the dynamics at play here without overloading my laptop and this site. I feel like Gwen's actions in the show get glossed over a lot. I've seen Peter and Harry get criticized for their actions and sympathy for their differently bad lives within the show, but Gwen. . .doesn't get that same scrutiny. She makes objectively horrible/stupid choices about how to go about things in her relationships but somehow she seems to get less spotlight shed on those things. Instead, the responsibility is often shoved the two guys for screwing up, despite either having far more on their plate or a bad home life. Anyways, I've rambled incoherently enough. Hope it brought you some food for thought even if you don't agree with everything.

[idontplaytrack]

hii um idrk how this works (milenial core) anyway I'd like to request a fic w Janis bc she's actually the love of my life. I'm at like a really low point in my mental health so I need some comfort with fictional people. So maybe you could do like reader is just really exhausted and just needs like comfort and Janis isn't good at it but tries her best?! idk I'm just yapping. Also I love your work!💕

Where you lead, I will follow

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader

Warnings: coarse language, stress, anxiety, low moods, fluff

“All you have to do is call my name, and I'll be there on the next train”

— Where You Lead, Carole King

“Hey, darling. What’s up?” Janis held her phone between her ear and shoulder, busy putting away her paintbrushes and other art supplies after working on a painting for the last two hours.

“Um…” You hesitated, “Nothing, it’s fine.”

Janis heard something in your voice that instantly worried her. “Babe, not nothing. Please, you can talk to me about anything.” Janis fought the urge to sigh, fingertips tapping her thigh anxiously.

“Are— are you at home?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

She heard the dial tone. You had hung up. She texts you to ask if you were okay and if you wanted her to pick you up. You didn’t respond. But a couple minutes later, Janis hears a hurried string of knocks on her garage door. She runs over to open it and you entered immediately. “Hey, hey. Breathe. It’s okay.” Janis soothed, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder. “Breathe, in and out, y/n. Please? Can you do that for me?”

Slowly, you began to follow her breathing exercise which gradually helped your breathing even out.

You walked past her and sat on her bed, “Can I stay here tonight, please? I don’t want to be at home because my mom and dad are fighting and they’ve been doing that all week. And I’m just so tired of hearing their yelling, having to mediate their arguments…I’m— I just want one night of peace and quiet so I can actually rest instead of stair at my ceiling hoping neither of them will smash something or yell again.”

She plops down beside you, somewhat looking at the floor. You knew it was hard for her to comfort anyone, but she always tried her best. She always did. Even her presence was enough to comfort you and make you feel at ease.

Janis replied, “You can stay for as long as you want to stay, I love having you here. I’m glad…you feel safe here. That’s what I’m here for, I’m here for you, I’m here to help you, protect you, y/n. Because I love you, babe.”

She held her hand out, it was hovering over your back. Janis wasn’t great with showing affection because she had her own…stuff she was dealing with— thanks to a specific incident in middle school involving the one and only Regina George. Her trouble with showing affection was only one of the results of that whole bullying that took place at the time. When she shared that with you, you were appalled by what the blonde did. Not to mention absolutely furious. A few seconds later, you did feel her palm on your upper back, rubbing soothing circles over an area of it.

“Get some sleep, kay?”

You nodded, crawling upwards to the head of the bed and under the covers, “Thanks.”

“Have you had anything to eat?” She asked, moving up a little to join you.

“No, not hungry.”

“Babe.” She sighs. “You need to eat something, come on.”

Well, you were a little hungry. Lunch was no doubt chaotic. So you abandoned your meal halfway through and just cooped yourself up in your room until you couldn’t take it and came over here to Janis’.

“I’ll go make you something to eat. You just stay here and rest.” Janis patted your knee and got up out of bed.

Like she had told you to, you just laid there and shut your eyes. You managed to get some shut-eye until you felt her shake you awake, gently.

“Here, I made you a sandwich and a camomile tea.” She says, handing you the plate and leaving the mug on her nightstand.

“Thanks.” You told her softly. She’d made you your favourite sandwich. That was nice.

Janis smiles, patting your knee before her hand settled on it, caressing your thigh comfortingly. “Wanna watch some TV while you eat?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat with you while you finished up your food. It was silent apart from the sounds from the TV, but comfortable. You absolutely did not mind it. You put the plate down on the nightstand after eating and just laid down. “Good night, babe.” Janis rubs your back briefly then leaned down to press a kiss to your head.

“I love you.” You told her before you drifted off to sleep.

Seconds later, causing you to be pleasantly surprised, Janis replies, “I love you too.”

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

Thank you so much for the request, hun. Sending you all the good vibes & the biggest hug <3 sorry it was a little short.

[rainyarcades]

do you have any headcanons for the ggy trio?

Tysm for asking this aughhhh

I'm only gonna go over Greg in relation to the other two because Gregory alone I talk about headcanons for a lot, and he's included in the post about the 3 star fam headcanons. So yeah

I just made a separate post for my sorta headcanons for GGY specifically, which you can find here.

Greg was a really good friend before being glitchtrapped. He was during it, too, but that was Rab playing an act. He's a super sweet kid, despite everything

Greg would give Tony his own pocket money sometimes. "I get a lot of it, and you need it more than me." Tony didn't like to accept it, but Gregory is a persistent person.

Greg would always help Ellis with the arcades he wasn't very good at. "I learned this strat, actually...."

Gregory would get them both snacks and sneak them under the desks in class, the trio eating them when the teacher wasn't watching. This was especially the case if Ellis seemed less hyper in class or Tony was particularly quiet.

Gregory was extremely helpful and kind with Tony when his dad got locked up. He was there for him. Ellis is better at lightening the mood, but Gregory is good at real comfort and supportive words

They're all there for each other. Gregory fights when people pick on his friends, which is rare-ish-- they don't really get bullied-- but it still happens, and Greg gets hurt. He gets anxious. But then Ellis and Tony are there. Tony's awful attempts at comfort make Gregory laugh, while Ellis is naturally good at making people smile

The trio balances each other out perfectly, and it makes things easier in school! Sometimes, Tony needs to lighten up and see the bigger picture. Sometimes, Gregory needs to relax and take things slower. Sometimes, Ellis needs to be brought back to earth a little.

Ellis has a pretty normal life. He doesn't have any particular bad shit going on, only the losing his two besties thing in the case of canon. His home life is okay, though; he has a caring mother and a little sister he enjoys taking care of, despite her attitude sometimes-- It's small, and it's nice. His dad is usually away at work, but he finds time for his family.

Ellis has as much monty merch as he can possibly get, but he insists on winning it himself at the Plex instead of just finding it on amazon or whatever.

Tony's secret opinion on Ellis would be so heartbreaking for him. Ellis would be devastated to find Tony doesn't like his silly side. It'd drive him away, "Wow, man. Okay. I'll find new friends, you can have Greg all to yourself. Enjoy it."

If Gregory knew about it, he would side with Ellis. He'd be angry, but also try to help Tony loosen up. "Hey, you don't have to be super mature yet. You're so young. Trust me, you should enjoy being a kid before you force yourself to grow up. Being forced into growing up sucks, I promise." Tony would hate the fact that it sounds like he's talking from experience.

Tony loves music! His dad liked music, and he could play guitar, so Tony likes music and wants to learn to play. He also wants to learn piano. He learned like 2 meme songs on piano to impress people in music class and almost got detention (tryhard)

Tony listens to music mainly at the moment. He wants to learn to write songs. He doesn't wanna be a songwriter-- He's still set on investigative journalism. It's just a hobby

He'd write lemon demon type shit mixed with like uhhh. Idk. Less silly, more serious stuff. Imagine Cabinet Man, but it's about an arcade controlling a person, and it's slower and more ominous sounding (the GGY song)

He listens to songs his dad likes, often. Reminds him of him. He misses him every day, and it's a way of escaping. He usually listens to music late at night, and he thinks... just thinks.

Gregory is the one who got Tony into cheesy 80s music instead of mf. The Clash and The Cure, which his dad likes. "Should I stay or should I.... Nah. Listen to this." He hands the phone back and it's playing Material Girl

Speaking of, Gregory loves 80s music! Ellis loves hard rock and punk music. They really do reflect their glamrock faves in terms of favourite music genre!

They'd have a collab playlist that they can all add music to, and Gregory always quietly adds things he thinks are funny. Tony got 'How Bad Can I Be' blasting in his ears one day and turned to see Gregory and Ellis giggling away nearby.

Gregory adds real songs. Some really good ones. But then he also adds it's raining tacos 60 times. They played it on a speaker once, and when it's raining tacos started playing, Gregory turned it up so it blasted through the cafeteria. All 3 of them got detention

The trio definitely snuck into a show at the Pizzaplex. Yeah, two of them can afford it, but what's the fun in paying? And it's from there that Tony was obsessed with Bonnie. It's the one thing at the Plex he can't pretend he doesn't find childish

Tony has been trying to forget it. He's too old for all that. But he just loves the characters despite everything. He'd start going into how he can like the glamrocks because he researched glam rock, while Gregory and Ellis don't really care-- "Yeah I looked into Glam Rock. It's like. A part of queer history. It's important haha. and I can look into its influence. Okay? It's normal and fine and mature." And they're just like "??? Okay???"

Greg's favourite is Freddy, Tony's is Bonnie, and the duo are super close. Ellis isn't stupid. He definitely thought they were gonna end up together or something; even if they weren't gonna end up like that or anything, Ellis is a huge tease

They all tried cooking once! Tried. Tony isn't a bad cook at 14, but he's an awful, terrible cook at 12. Ellis can't cook at all, and Gregory can only bake (at age 12, also badly).

No matter what they're making, Ellis manages to make slime every time. His favourite to cook is spaghetti and the pasta is always mushy, the sauce always thick as hell with not enough meat... It's slime. Tastes nice, with the worst texture of all time. Despite that, the boys like it anyway. When Tony's sad Ellis is like right. Dude. I'm making you my slimy spaghetti surprise rn

Greg would bake them all cookies at the weekends they work on school projects! They're usually slightly too hard or too soft, but they taste okay.

Ellis helped one time and the cookies became slime. "Oh my God Greg. Who made these, Ellis?" "Uhmmmm excuse me you're doubting the master chef of the three musketeers?" "He helped."

Greg got extremely, scarily good at baking that one September before he and Tony went missing (Afton/the Mimic can really cook apparently!)

The trio has a Minecraft server, owned by Gregory. Tony builds actual houses and stores, Ellis builds really huge complex things like farms and redstone contraptions + traps, and Gregory builds sometimes like Tony, but is shockingly good at it. He builds megabases. But he also starts a million things he never finishes, accidentally breaks things, causes chaos (usually along with Ellis), buries Tony or moves him while he's AFK, and /kills everything.

Ellis and Gregory built a dangerous labyrinth, and Greg teleported Tony to the centre of it. He's in spectator mode with Ellis, watching Tony struggle and constantly respawn in the maze while he complains. "MF GIVE BACK MY CREATIVE PERMS???" "Seek the exit, and your desires will be met." (leaves vc)

If Tony ever gets genuinely annoyed by their antics, Greg usually builds him something as an apology because he feels really bad about it.

And uhh that's all for now! I could probably come up with more eventually, but these ones have been on my mind abkshduhdjd

Thanks for the ask!

[yujeong]

#in the novel (ew) he is very much alive but the story is vastly different#so it doesn't exactly count#(aka there's no boxing backstory at all)

Wait wait wait - there's no boxing backstory in the novel? I haven't read the book so this is news to me. Now I'm truly intrigued because I've been thinking about why the past abuse was written in the framework of boxing? Why muay Thai (or more specifically, muay khao)? I know I'm too hung-up on the topic but I feel like what's being revealed about Pete's background is more than just the abuse. Like the fact that Pete's likely from a poor family and his father forced him to box because of money (which would add a whole another layer to the "he never won" reflection) because that's the usual reasoning when parents are asked why they let their kids fight as young as six or seven years old.

And then there's the whole transformation from scrutinized creature to human shaped hole.

It's so funny that two years ago I was like "okay cool, Pete knows how to throw a fist" whereas now I'm trying to rewrite his whole family saga because of a few lines.

First of all, let me start by saying that you are not, in fact, too hung-up on anything; your passion for Pete's backstory and Muay Thai is delightful to see whenever I log on here and it's the reason I often engage with your posts. It keeps my interest on the subject alive. Never stop sharing your thoughts on it, unless your own interest starts to dissipate. Now, I don't remember all the details, but the key points of Pete's backstory in the novel are as follows:

Pete's mother died when he was young,

He was basically raised by his grandparents, who remain alive until after Vegas and Pete become a couple and visit them on their island (so there's both a dtaa and a yaai, if I'm using the correct terms),

His father was still abusive to him,

At some point, he just left him and started a new family,

He was bullied at school because he was gay

That's all I remember. I'm not sure if his mother died before or after his father left to start a new family, but I'm really not in the mood to skim-read the novel to find out. What you're saying makes sense and it's possibly why his father forced him into boxing, besides his own inferior complex about never having won a match in his life. Honestly, I must thank whoever made those changes in Pete's backstory in the show, because without them, the most important connective tissue that exists between Vegas and Pete is lost. It's one of the reasons VP in the novels doesn't work for me; there's nothing for them to bond over besides... food, which is cool, don't get me wrong, we got it in the show as well. It's just not enough. And it's not just them having abusive fathers that connects them. It's the fact that they're both hunting dogs, as you put it in your meta post. It's the fact that their entire being circles around them being on a leash for their owner to use and abuse as they wish. It's just more evident with Pete because he's a bodyguard, but we all know it's true for Vegas, too. Making Pete a (past-)boxer is a brilliant choice for all the reasons the fandom (including you) has analyzed since episode 11 dropped and I'll never get tired of talking or reading about it. You're very much valid in being this influenced over a few lines.

[puckpocketed]

weird/bad interactions always remind me about the good things. feeling very sentimental under the cut <3

housekeeping

The gist of this is that I'm very grateful every day my first encounters with hockey on here were primarily with kraken lb and sharks lb. You can stop here if you aren't in the mood for an essay LOL

I'm thankful in general for everyone who has ever welcomed me into their hockey spaces for giving me role models to emulate. I feel especially thankful after such a strange, off-putting experience in a new tag just now.

On the off-chance you're the person who took a screenshot of my post to tell me to leave your space and you're reading this: thanks for the chat, no hard feelings and no grudges held. If you're one of the people who uncritically reblogged that post... I can't tell you what to do with your blog but dog piling is a pretty good way to bully people and drive new fans, artists and gifmakers away from your community.

I'm not here to guilt people into being friends with me. and honestly, I don't want friends who would do that. I sincerely hope you grow and the next new fan you encounter gets a warmer welcome than I did. I know most people in the tag aren't like that, but I think I'll shelf that team for now. (my quest to fall in love with 32 teams carries on!)

Anyway, I get pretty mushy about my friends and communities semi-regularly on here so it’s not anything people haven’t heard before, but it’s MY blog and I get to write love letters to my teams and their communities if i want!!!!!

kraken

I take my cues from the way people in this tag treated me. The warm welcome is something I'll always think about, no matter how my relationship to the team and the community at large evolves over time. Sparking my interest in writing again, making new friends, and learning about The Beautiful Game was such a highlight during my summer last year. I am very very tender about this team and community. It’s hard to talk about them sometimes because it’s like… my feelings are so big <3 they are eating me like a soup dumpling. my head is being ripped off and my soupy insides are being sipped <- don’t know where i’m going with that....!

I confess I often feel overwhelmed and lost in the hockey tumblr space as someone who doesn’t participate in shipping/rpf and isn’t attracted to men, but I’ve never felt like people wanted me out because of it. Thank you for accepting me, and accepting the way I love this team and sport.

sharks

Tiny but mighty!! the kraken crossover likely contributed a lot to this, but I've met such amazing people in this tag. We may have different/conflicting opinions about non-sharks teams but we are united in our love for this flop train and my life is enriched by it. Would not commit to a months long research project with any other people ! Mwah <3

There's a whole iceberg's worth of things to say here. I'm trying to keep it short otherwise it would be like.... a whole post of its own LMAO.... i should definitely write a puck-mortem on the primer work one day.

But to give anyone reading this an example: I still think about a sharks writing prompt challenge where the organiser went out of the way to include non-shipping/nonfiction works in their list of acceptable submissions. I won't name or @ anyone in this because that's sooo embarrassing aslkjasdkljdjkl but. we exchanged a few messages about it, and learning that they did that specifically to make sure people like me were included genuinely made me tear up.

I love u sharkudablr <33

kings

Somehow even smaller. Many of us don't have LAK as our primaries, and honestly why would we? The community tinyyy... and only recently we're coming back to life it seems. I really can count on two hands every active kings blog I've met and interacted with. But I value every 6 note post so much <3 also we may be very funny for real actually. incredible memes and collective sense of humour. The memes and gifs and photo edits + reposts are so important to me .

I love our kings, our little family, our little liveblog tag. The way I follow LA is unlike how I follow any other team. they really are my eldest daughter, in that I am holding them to SUCH high standards. Perhaps because out of all my teams their fate seems the most uncertain? Are we on the verge of collapse ? are we cup contenders? are we ever gonna escape the round 1 time loop? <3

I hope one day we're as big and warm as my other beloved team tags. I think we're on our way :)

golden knights

another small but close community. I'm so grateful I saw Adin Hill go ultra instinct and got interested in this team <3 aside from saving me a bit of heartbreak during the trade deadline, I've met amazing new people.

Also, loving this team makes for a great litmus test + rent lowering shots. To be loud about enjoying this team is to filter unserious people out of my tumblr experience <3 Those who were wishing injury on m.stone in particular and those who were uncritically repeating conspiracy theories, thanks for exposing yourself during playoffs. Those who are in the tags of my vgk gifs saying how much you hate this team, thanks for exposing yourselves. I do not go out of my way to be spiteful on here, I think it really does no good. but I fear I don't want to sit with you at lunch if you are doin all that!!

what's really special to me is how our community is small and safe. it is the safest I've felt in a hockey community. I am so happy our discord is place I can go to without fear of seeing one of my other teams/players randomly smeared, I love that it was started with the express intention to avoid simply repeating the unfiltered hatred we experience in other spaces. building with purpose, choosing to be kind... i think that's also something I want to take and run with in my own community building efforts. thanks for being bold enough to be different <3

caps

Quickly rising up from babygirl-in-laws (hi Lucky!!) to BELOVEDS. I think the Dubois trade might be one of those inflection points they talk about in sci-fi movies where they gotta time travel and change the future :) I was already sort of eyeing this team and had a few friends/mutuals who followed them, but the incredible caps fans who have reached out to me to share their love of their team really sold me.

I love talking hockey with everyone I've met. I love the goofy vibes. i love the essays in my inbox. I love that people read the essays i write back. <3 When a link to a video didn't work for me (required a log in) a caps fan simply screen recorded it and posted it. When I asked about the power play I got completely serious hockeypilled answers <3

There is something to love about every team, but I'm finding a huge part of loving them, at least for me, is the people you love them with.

everyone else

If i haven't mentioned a team I like or people I've interacted with it's because there are too many to recall in one go and this post has gotten a lot longer than I originally intended <3 trust that I think of you warmly and often. every person who has ever sent me an encouraging word, discoursed with me about the game and the narratives, and every note on my silly gifs and art - appreciate you more than I can express. you all make being on here such a cool experience.

I hope i love hockey for a long time and keep meeting new people <3

[ask-good-cop-bad-cop]

Care to share some of your GCBC headcanons?

🔸️ I'm going to be pulling a lot of these from previously answered asks. It'll be nice having them in one spot.

✮ Their full name is Garrett William Copp. They developed as a "they", but Ma and Pa didn't realize it until they were a few months old and began to show two distinct personalities. So Good ended up getting called Garrett, and Bad ended up getting called William. He vastly prefers his name to be shortened to Liam. Don't ever call him Will. Especially don't try calling him Bill.

✮ Their birthday is October 31, 1969. (Yes, I am aware that would make them 55 now. It's still 2014 for them.)

✮ Bad has always enjoyed physical activity and played many sports when they were kids. His favorites were baseball and track & field. He also took up boxing in college. Good had more of an interest in theatre- Bad gave up sports their senior year of high school so Good would have the time to do something he enjoyed for once.

✮ They had difficulty controlling their switching when they were younger- Good especially. He's always been the stronger of the two of them that way and can easily take control from Bad, no matter how hard Bad tries to resist. Unfortunately this, paired with Bad's need to be active, often led to injuries.

✮ Existing as they do also led to a lot of bullying and fights throughout school. Bad was always quick to switch in to defend Good- but he never threw the first punch.

✮ Bad prefers savory flavors, while Good prefers sweet. This played a large part in why they chose their particular culinary skills.

✮ Good has always been better at things like math and chemistry, which helps a lot with his interest in baking. Bad, with his long-standing love of reading, is remarkably good at things like spelling and grammar- to the point he turns off spellcheck and autocorrect on every device they use because it just drives him crazy.

✮ They both have specific emotions that they feel very strongly, and specific emotions they have a very difficult time feeling at all, and often need the other to either bring them back down or help them process it. Good's strong emotion is joy, and the emotion he is incapable of feeling on his own is anger. The most he can feel without Bad's help is annoyance. Bad is pretty much the opposite. He often needs Good to help keep his quick temper in check, and without Good's help, the happiest he is capable of feeling is 'content'. They both feel sadness/despair the same; Good is just much more comfortable with and capable of crying. Bad has to reach some pretty extreme limits before the tears will finally come.

✮ They dream together! Not always, but about 90% of the time. Sometimes they still share a body, sometimes they're separate. They especially like the dreams where they're separate and have been practicing lucid dreaming because, even if it's only a dream, they enjoy having the chance to do things together like normal brothers. They know they wouldn't be able to function if they really were separated though.

✮ Bad's tastes in music are pretty much limited to classic rock, traditional Irish, and ambient/atmospheric (think movie/video game music). Good, on the other hand, will listen to just about anything- especially if it's loud, upbeat, or both. His favorite genre is symphonic metal, and Bad often tells him he sounds like Fabio (former lead singer of Rhapsody of Fire) when he sings, just with a different accent.

✮ They very likely have the creative spark needed to be a Master Builder. No one's ever bothered to try training them to find out though.

✮ They're both mainly coffee drinkers. Bad prefers his black (maybe every once in a blue moon with just a touch of sugar), while Good prefers lattes, usually mocha but sometimes with other flavor shots, depending on what he's in the mood for. They're the same way when it comes to tea, as rarely as they drink it. Bad prefers hot herbal teas (specifically mint or chamomile) to unwind in the evenings, also very rarely sweetened. Good likes tea lattes (London Fog is his favorite so far) or milk teas for a sweet caffeine boost that's different from his usual fare. The only iced tea either of them will drink is their mom's sun tea, which she sweetens with honey and adds fresh crushed mint leaves to.

✮ Aside from seasonal allergies, they're allergic to mosquito bites. It's not life-threatening but any bites they get do swell up to be at least the size of a golf ball.

✮ They are what some would call "sensitive" or "intuitive". They have been able to see ghosts since they were young. Bad Cop in particular tends to get surprisingly accurate gut feelings about situations (not 100% of the time, but definitely more often than not).

[ravenkinnie]

when in the same room with someone jinx doesnt like (not hate like with cait she just dont fw them) would jinx just shoot at them unprompted or bully them unprompted? or would the person have to interact with her first to provoke her to do either of those things? or would jinx pretend they dont exist? (they're literally not trying to annoy her btw they're just existing)

even though jinx is obviously a maniac at the same time i can get confused how specifically wild she is under more mundane circumstances. like idk if its just me but sometimes it can get confusing how to protray wild characters with little to no inhibitions like jinx without making her cartoony or two-dimensional.

idk if shoot but I do think jinx can't deal with an emotion to a degree where she might hear them insidious demonic voices inside her tell her to start shit. I think she wouldn't care if she didn't give a fuck about a person unless she was in a mood but if she doesn't like someone then probably. like if you look at the scene with thieram/chuck she starts messing with him even before she starts vying for info because jinx just likes messing with people and i doubt chuck has enough personality to have a massive longstanding beef with jinx

when it comes to giving a character that dimension it's less about whether she would do it in general and more about the little nuances of when and how she does things. humans don't work like algorithms, even in the same situation you will respond differently depending on a lot of things and that could be whether she has another goal that fucking with someone would serve, whether she's emotionally distraught in some way or whether there's even another person in the room with her like silco or vi

when you look at a story as a whole, that one scene in context also isn't enough by itself to tip the scale into two-dimensional and flat characterisation if the entirety of the character arc is balanced. you kind of have to check on a larger scale whether you balanced all the aspects of a character well enough and made them feel consistent within that character so that they don't feel cartoony and exaggerated in their expressions and reactions even if they are a wild or big or whatever personality. and looking at reactions within contexts where they don't react to every scenario exactly the same is I think a part of that

a small way I like to add some balance to kind of sense check if I'm not pushing the scale in one direction is to add a micro-breakdown - this is just looking for a moment in the story where the pattern breaks in some small way. for character arcs I think thinking about when that moment could be makes it easier to visualise those underlying layers of characterization. so you have a character who has a strong, energetic and aggressive personality and you look at your story and think where is the context, emotional or external, where it makes sense for this wild pattern of behaviour to break for a moment, what could it say about why this pattern exists in the first place and how does she get back to her baseline but with new layer underneath now. if you look at s1 jinx a scene like this would be for example, the scene with silco in his office after she shoots up the airship - you see a break in that aggressive always on the offense pattern, she retreats and fawns and she's apologetic and she even touches on explaining that manic behaviour when she tells him about her hallucinations so you have another layer for the pattern that will keep returning

[chocoqtelle]

pac,, what should you do to move forward?

pile one,,

the first thing you should focus on is healing your trauma or any negative past you've been holding onto. during this time it would help to accept help from others and be open to assistance even if you're scared of opening up. healing your inner child could be very significant. you have a lot of work to do regarding your mental health. neglecting and ignoring your mental struggles won't make them go away. you probably like to imagine others caring for you but you need to be the one to care for you. opal (the jack stauber short) may also be significant. having a healthy routine even if it's just focusing on one specific thing would really make a large impact on you for the better.

pile two,,

i feel like you were probably bullied. you were treated as weird or excluded in some way. like fire drill (Melanie Martinez). you spent a long time feeling weak. it's time to actually stand up for yourself. friends and possibly romantic partners even have treated you wrongly in the past. you should be using these past experiences to your advantage instead of beating yourself over it. how do you wanna be different now? what people do you wish to attract now? how can you avoid things like that happening again? you are very intuitive but you don't use your spiritual abilities to help yourself. trust yourself more often. you don't have to act tough or hard to protect yourself. just protect yourself like you wish others did back then.

pile three,,

this pile feels less amused. like kind of tired. you could currently struggle with depression. you've felt like you had to fight your entire life. not just others, but also your own emotions. you don't allow yourself to feel. you probably grew up in a chaotic environment where you felt it was best/safer for you to not feel at all and developed that mindset early on. you need to balance your mood and emotions. you also need to let go of this fighter mindset. i'm getting fighter by jack stauber and dollhouse by Melanie. you have to take care of yourself and your own feelings. like in that one best american girl scene (mitski) where she started kissing her hand. you could also use music a lot to cope as a way of escapism.