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The history of LOGO Programming ...
Post #42: TurtleSpaces, Auntiemyrtle, Past and future turtles, The evolution of the Logo Programming, Part 1, 2021.
#coding#learning#programmieren#programming#teaching#studying#education#turtle programming#coding for kids#turtle graphics#i love turtle#turtle language#coding is fun#code your life
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Digitalisierung im Bildungswesen: Code Your Life ...
Programmieren fĂŒr Kinder und Jugendliche ...
Post #35: Code Your Life, Digitalisierung im Bildungswesen, 2023.
#coding#coding is fun#programming#education#learning#i love coding#coding for kids#code your life#teaching#programming language#programmiersprache
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historical drama/sitcom where two gay best friends (woman and man) get lavender married--and proceed to spend the Fancy European Honeymoon their parents paid for acting as each other's wingman
#and hijinks ensue. obviously.#BONUS POINTS if they're gender nonconforming/questioning/trans coded#back at home they'd get dressed up then switch outfits in the taxi on the way to the gay club#now that they're married/on vacation in a new country they just wear what they want#he already has a glamorous collection of silk dressing gowns but she's the one who drags him out to buy a closet full of evening gowns#he tries to throw his suits out to make closet space and she steals them for her own wardrobe#also i think they should be a fun mixture of supportive and Cattily Judgemental about each other's dating decisions#just for funsies#like when your bestie is making a mess of their love life but you're in no position to lecture them bc youre WORSE#no wait wait wait#FINAL SEASON they both realize they're trans and move abroad permanently--where they each assume the other's legal identity!!!#SERIES FINALE: a joyful double wedding--wherein they lovingly divorce each other#and (under their switched identities) legally marry their longterm partners
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[breath in, breath out] âŠâŠ Can we talk about those lines?
#twisted wonderland#Tamashina Mina Event#Cloudcalling Event#leona kingscholar#vil schoenheit#leovil#maybe itâs me but I donât recall the event was THAT OBVIOUS#Sure the whole event is pretty Leovil coded and bless them for that#but#I almost choked on my tea with Leonaâs line lmao#sounds like the official translators just gave up to be subtle and just embrace the âyeah itâs canon'#'it's just mama and papa flirting'#'in front of the kids'#'again'#srly#'the time of your life'#like really Leona?#and TWICE#ffs just propose to him
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idk how i want to draw him yet and not ready to make a srs attempt but here's a bad kdj phone doodle lolđ¶đ»
#orv#kim dokja#omniscient reader's viewpoint#my art#oh yeah i didnt have ref for this fkdnfn was going off memory of the last (first) time i drew him#i cant do a serious attempt tho bc i havent read the novel so i dont have a clear image of him in my head yet...#(dont want to just copy the webtoon design hastily... if it matches my image thats fine but... idk yet)#my main opinion on the webtoon design is he's too hot/ikemen tho KFJDKDJ (this is what i thought since the beginning)#its like BONES mp100 anime reigen.... kdj is like manga reigen to me /j#but who knows maybe if i catch kdj brainrot i too will start drawing him like a kpop idol out of affection...đ€·đ»ââïž#like the webtoon artist prob draws kdj pretty bc they love him sm#just like how i draw jys pretty bc of my brainrot...#so who knows maybe that will happen to me toođ€·đ»ââïž time will tell#my main opinion on webtoon yjh (no one asked): CUTE BUT WHERES THE T1TTY BEL- *voice muffled as i get dragged away*#(copied most of these tags from twit too lazy to retype the commentary)#EDIT: i call him reigen jokingly bc theyre abt the same age but#kdj is also mob core to me....#in that theyre both protags that dont look flashy and look more like extras/'mob charas'#yet r irrevocably unequivocably the protags of their respective stories#(just as everyone is the protag of your own life! sieze ur narrative! etcetcđ€)#also. both black haired bowlcut havers KJDJS#kdj is reigen coded (derogatory) and mob coded (POS)#hes also a 'con man like reigen..... yep hes def still reigen coded
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EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK!!! I want to be coherent about this season but please picture me foaming at the mouth and running on the walls. S2 being what if Mark's just like his Dad? Insanity. I love this show. Anyways, AU where an Evil!Mark tries to make Our!Mark worse, and Our!Mark tries to make the other better. Something something confronting your idea of the worst version of oneself. Plus, tweaked black and yellow costume because I saw it and immediately went murder hornet lookin' ass and knew I had to draw it. Evil ass Mark. Horrible. I think he should be dragged kicking and screaming into redemption.
#mark and the fact he is fighting for this fucking life to avoid the Many Bad Endings???? im pacing. getting out the red string.#when the season is about who you are and what you could become. when trying to be good is an active choice and a struggle.#RAHHHHHHHHHHH#chewing on the bars of my enclosure...when every mark is evil OUR mark is the outlier. the exception. the OTHER. RAHHHH#dog poetry being mark poetry because how often can you kick a dog before it starts snarling before you raise your hand?#how often can you beat it before it rips into you without mercy? when it bites not at your hand but at your neck?#when does violence for survival and violence for vengeance start and end? when your opponent is down and you keep drawing blood?#circling and pacing and losing my mind over this btw if you care#anyways self vs self gets me going crazy. did you know i loved the end of atsv? because it shows.#i think o!mark would lose his fucking mind at what evil wasp looking mark has done + this mf wasp would LOATHE mark's kindness#they both see the other as the WORST version of themselves and they can't stand it. They can't shatter the mirror but they think they can--#--change the reflection.#evil mark seeing mark and seeing what he USED to be#mark seeing what he COULD be#CAN U SEE THE VISION??????#digital art#invincible rotating in my mind#invincible fanart#fanart#mark my beloved#mark grayson fanart#mark grayson#invincible s2#invincible show#mark like hello this is my secret twin and he is NOTHING like me hahahaha anyways wanna debate about having mORALS and LIFE#mark grayson vs the urge not to accept every responsibility as his own#he's batman coded that way#ok im done yapping#if this happened in the comics in any way shape or form dont tell me JACK SHIT or i will PUMMEL YOU with my SHOES
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More comics based on old suggestions on Twitter
#rottmnt#tmnt#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt leo#doodles#rise of the tmnt#don and Leo are twins your honor#so they communicate in Morse code#as all twins do#Leo will run a bit into the ground#at the cost of his own life#shouldnât have messed with Mikey
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How much of him is there in me?
#jessmarianoedit#gilmoregirlsedit#jess mariano#gilmore girls#ohwarnette#usersolis#usernivi#usermalcfoy#mialook#alielook#useraudrey2#userroh#usermai#tuserdanni#*mine#*mygifs#i know the scene is actually the other way around but i felt like it made more sense this way#and i chose this scene bc like jimmy literally says he's a screw up + it's his genetic code#and jess is literally like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree#but also i do not think jess is a screw up like it's more of y'know his thought process i guess ?#there's just like a lot of similarities between jess and jimmy#and just like it's a lot to deal with y'know#like here's the guy you've never known who didn't seem to care to know you and he pops back in your life#and you're just faced with this mirror reflection of you and it must be unnerving#how can you be so similar to someone you don't even know
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I could stare at your back all day And I know I've kissed you before, but I didn't do it right
#they serve so hard#retro.art#queer art#transgender art#mitski song lyrics too <3#ocs#adam and eve but heavily code it late 80's in terms of makeup hair and technology#something something being made to view your bare body with shame and discomfort as a result of someones malicous meddling into your life
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Code Your Life - Turtle Coder ...
Programmieren fĂŒr Kinder und Jugendliche ...
Post #17: Code Your Life, Turtle Coder, 2024.
#coding#learning#programmieren#programming#teaching#studying#turtle programming#education#coding for kids#code your life#turtle coder#i love turtles
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okay some people genuinely really need to accept that the ONLY "queer coding" in saiki k is when they make gay jokes. there is NO other intentional queer coding, and i think people dont understand that claiming rep where it isnt there is much much more harmful than you think it is... just headcanon! its fun! you guys act like youre going to fucking die if you ship/hc something not canon, so you convince everyone that everything you say is canon â ïž its literally insane
theres a HUGE difference between a headcanon or ship having what YOU see as canon backing, and a hc or ship that is actually implied or canon...
the only ship that you could argue is implied in saiki k is terusai, thats literally it, you could potentially make an argument that yumekai could be reciprocated towards the end, satoumiya, or MAYBE mikosai, but im pretty sure thats it...
nonbinary saiki is one of my personal favorite headcanons (one of the only ones i pretty much ALWAYS have in mind when talking or writing about him, it's practically a given) and i think it has pretty good canon backing, but its not ACTUALLY implied.
hes FAIRLY certain that his biological sex is male, and all evidence points to that, but he doesnt know and specifically says that he doesnt know what his true gender is... he clearly has absolutely zero discomfort with masculinity OR femininity, doesnt know or care about his gender, and is comfortable with either sex... he seems very happy to just be either...
seems like pretty solid evidence, but you also have to realize that there is literally zero chance that the author intended for saiki to be read as nonbinary, or trans in any way, this was literally just an excuse for plot and to have a reason to take advantage of his shapeshifting to do crossdressing/genderbend chapters â ïž i love to see it as him being nonbinary and i think it has a lot of backing, but its not canon or even "implied" at all.
theres a lot of other examples of this kind of thing in this fandom, like theres a lot of people who claim that kubokai are queer coded (its usually just a joke when people say things like "hehe my ship is so canon" but im talking about like... people who see yumekai and go "um ïżœïżœïżœ this is LITERALLY homophobic because erm um kubokai are basically canon and queer coded and you shipping one of them with a WOMAN is HOMOPHOBIC" lmfao) and i am actually just not even sure where this comes from because they dont have anything that can even be twisted into romantic subtext, theyre just a popular ship because they have a good friendship. which is great! but theyre like the LAST thing i wouldve expected people to claim as implied or canon. they are absolutely not. the only thing i can even think of that might make people think that is saiki saying they look gay in that one chapter â ïž
#hairo is the only with any any canon and intentional 'queer coding' and even then its just that hes unsure of his sexuality#hes not currently attracted to women but is unsure of who he's attracted to or if hes attracted to anyone at all#fyi ik people are gonna think im dramatic#but little things like this really can be more harmful than you think they are#even if you think it doesnt affect anyone#if THOUSANDS of people are all doing it... it adds up!#harassing people because you want to claim your hc as canon will ALWAYS BE HARMFUL#and claiming that theres queer rep where there just isnt is not only frustrating but can also be harmful to the community#if i read one more of those 'canon aroace characters' lists and it only gives me headcanons im going to off myself#im not even going to talk about the aroace saiki hc here because ive talked about how not canon it is a million times#i will specify if i need to though#saiki k#tdlosk#the disastrous life of saiki k.#meows post#meownalysis
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would someone be so kind as to point me toward the ishgardian side of the fandom?
#ci.txt#ffxiv#my dash is super ascian coded and while that's incredible life is about balance.#pls send me your favorite people to follow!!
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Anakin did at least once accidently call obi wan mom/mommy during his childhood since training with him and you can't never change my mind about that.
#i mean its only natural obi wan straightly became family for anakin#his mentor and brother and father best friend and mom#and it also helped that obi wan is so unbelievable mommy coded its not even a joke now#mommy-wan#like for real#he is such a soft caring warm protecting loving mommy âĄ#plo koon is the dad equivalent of that for his men#wolf pack#one of his men also accidently called him dad once (wolffe most definetly)#anakin and wolffe had the most embarassing day but obi and plo had the day of their lifes#when you reach the highest rank of mentor/teacherhood:#accidental being assumed with a parental figure by your student(s)#star wars#star wars prequels#obi wan kenobi#star wars fandom#attack of the clones#revenge of the sith#the phantom menace#anakin skywalker#space jesus#the clone wars#plo koon#master plo koon#tcw wolffe#commander wolffe#jedi training
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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 donât 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. Iâm 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 đ 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 hasnât this fic just been angst so far??? yes!! you may be correct!! but you donât 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!! đ
Nico
When Nico and Talia had first started dating, there had been an element of excitement to the dynamic. Nico hadnât 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 wouldnât 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.Â
He liked it so much he never really opened his eyes to the fact that Talia didnât.Â
She didnât like the dates he planned - didnât like the restaurants he chose, the movies he wanted to share with her, the bars him and the guys frequented. She didnât like America, didnât 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 didnât 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 didnât 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.Â
She wasnât 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 isnât like her.
She looks like sheâs 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 sheâs been crying, and her sweatpants donât match her hoodie. Itâs almost like sheâd thrown on whatever she could find and caught the first flight out, fresh out of bed.
âWhatâs going on?â 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 doesnât exactly deserve outstretched arms and a warm embrace, he thinks.
âHi Talia, how have you been, Talia? Itâs nice to see you Talia.â She mocks, a frown overtaking her features immediately. âIâm absolutely amazing, thanks for caring, Nico!â 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.
âDo you want a drink?â 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 doesnât even know what he has to feel guilty about.
âIâll get it myself,â 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. Heâs hardly ever used the press before, and heâs just doing so now to avoid her in whatever capacity he can. âI need money.â
Nicoâs almost positive he hasnât heard her right - that thereâs 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.Â
âYou have money.â
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. Sheâs 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. Sheâs 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?
âNot enough.â Her tone is cold, her demeanour the same, and if Nico can still gauge her emotions correctly, thereâs an element of blame that she is starting to shift towards him, and his whole body starts to feel tense.
âNot enough for what?â
He canât quite tell what feeling washes over him - worry, at the thought sheâs gotten herself into some kind of trouble, stress, at the thought this could be a recurring thing, and potentially pity, at the way sheâs so clearly carrying the weight of something heavy - something sheâs lugged all the way across the Atlantic on a long haul flight with her.
âNot enough to pay the guy whoâs blackmailing me not to leak the videos that I sent to you.â
âWhat vide-â he bites back, and the immediate arch of her brow tells him all he needs to know. âOh.â
Shit.
âOh? Thatâs all you have to say?â She sneers, fury in her gaze and dismay in her tone. âYouâve ruined my life, and all I get is an oh?â
âWhoa, slow down, Iâve ruined your life?â
Nico has never been one to shame any girl for sending explicit pictures - heâd been more than willing to receive them at the time - but he hadnât ever forced her hand. He hadnât even asked her for them, in the first place.Â
Sheâd 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 heâd returned from his injury - a time in which heâd spent mentally distanced from her as heâd 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 heâd come back more interested than ever.
If heâd 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.
Heâd 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 Iâm 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.
âTalia, I didnât even save those videos, and I definitely didnât show them to anyone else.â
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, heâd tear them apart, limb from limb.Â
âYouâre the only person Iâve ever sent anything to.â She seems to have made her mind up, and Nico feels as if his heart plummets through his torso at the realisation. Sheâs travelled all this way because she genuinely believes heâs the cause of this - that heâs shared intimate videos of her without her consent, to someone who would extort her for them. âAnd he sent me some pictures as proof, had information about me like the address of this apartment.â
âTalia, I swear on my motherâs life, I wouldnât do that to you - to anyone, not ever.â
Tears well in her crystalline eyes, and Nico waits with bated breath as she assesses the situation in her head.Â
He isnât 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.Â
He can do nothing but be patient, let her come to whatever conclusion on her own, and itâs 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 itâs all he can hear, too.
Nico does his best to comfort her, shushing and cooing and whispering how itâs going to be alright, but it does little to help. Sheâs beyond relief.
âThereâs a guy who said he can track whoever is doing this to me,â she sniffles as she pulls herself away. âHeâs in Jersey City Heights, heâs some sort of ethical hacker, whatever that means, Iâm going to meet him and heâs gonna go through my phone.â
âDo you want me to come with you?â Nico doesnât even hesitate to ask - if not to protect her, and make sure she isnât unknowingly getting herself into an even more dangerous situation, then to protect himself too. If someone has Taliaâs pictures, and she only sent them to him, thereâs a possibility his phone had been hacked, and if this guy is as ethical as he says, maybe he can check Nicoâs stuff, too, just to be safe.
She gives him an appreciative smile, eyes still glassy and cheeks flushed. âIâd really appreciate that.â
âIâm gonna shower, then we can go. You can grab whatever to eat while youâre waiting.â 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.Â
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 heâs going to explain himself to the beautiful girl whose bed he had abruptly left not even an hour ago.Â
âWhy are you dressed?â
Nico stops in his tracks.
When he had got back to his apartment, heâd made a little effort for it to seem like heâd been there all night. Heâd 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 hadnât 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 doesnât rouse further suspicion.
âI fell asleep in these clothes.â As easy as the lie comes out, he doesnât feel great saying it. Doesnât 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 heâd already lied to her on the phone. âWas out late with the guys last night, Timo threw a party for my birthday.â
âRight,â she drags out, and when he turns back around, she casts a scrutinising glance over him, top to bottom. âSorry, I forgot.â
âNo worries,â he shrugs, genuinely not offended. She has no reason to remember his birthday. Not anymore. âLike I said, help yourself to whatever, Iâll try not to be long.âÂ
When he undresses for his shower, heâs thankful he hadnât had the foresight to change in anticipation of Taliaâs 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 canât get the right angle to see his back but he imagines theyâre 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 heâd have held her up against the tiles and wouldâve moved into her until they couldnât tell where he ended and she began. Heâd 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, heâd press his tongue into her mouth after she had eaten and savour the flavour of strawberries that had settled between her lips.
Instead, heâs 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.Â
Her case is opened where she had left it by the door, and sheâs set herself a little vanity up on his coffee table, fixing her appearance before they leave.
Sheâs 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 sheâs currently running through her hair.
âYou take the longest showers in the history of man,â 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. âI do not want to know what it is you get up to in there.â
âI was barely 30 minutes, are you ready to go?â
âYeah, almost,â 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 sheâs 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 wonât 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.
Heâll wait until they get back later, his decision depending on the outcome of their visit to her hacker friend.
As much as he doesnât want her around, he isnât going to kick her out with no place to go if her life is still shrouded in unsafe circumstances.Â
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 doesnât burn through the surface of the table. âKay, letâs go.â
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 doesnât 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 heâs been hoping to avoid.Â
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.Â
He diverts his eyes when they meet Nicoâs head dropping as he steps in and stands beside his brother, uttering a quick greeting of, âHey, Cap.â
Jackâs attention is captured immediately, spinning at an almost dizzying speed to face his captain, phone disregarded into his back pocket. âSchao! I thought youâd be at-,â
Heâs 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.Â
âTalia. Hi.â
âHi, Jack.â Nico cringes inwardly at how disinterested she sounds. âLuke.â Talia had never really cared for Nicoâs 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 wasnât the biggest fan of how close Nico was with the pair. Didnât 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 wasnât good enough to hold a proper conversation with them, but heâd seen her enough around her American friends to know it wasnât true.
âWeâre just meeting up with some of the guys for breakfast.â 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 heâs gauging his current situation for the morning.
âWe have plans.â Talia must be able to tell what he was getting at, too and Nico can see Lukeâs 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 itâs just not the right time to do so with Talia stood beside him. If he starts getting defensive, sheâll start asking questions, and the boys will have to bear witness to him skirting around the matter of Poppy.Â
Itâs not a good look no matter which way he swings it. Heâs stuck in a thick, dark, tarry mess of not wanting to hurt anyoneâs 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 Poppyâs door had locked behind him this morning - he doesnât need Luke refusing to meet his gaze, doesnât need Jackâs shifting side eye to tell him heâs made a mistake.Â
âIâll text you later.â Nico says, mainly to Jack but still trying to meet his brotherâs eyes with no luck. Itâs an attempt to say something, without saying anything. A silent beg not to jump to conclusions about what theyâve seen - and, although he knows they wouldnât, 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.
âYeah, sure,â 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.
âHave fun with your plans,â Luke huffs out, his tone like a tight fist clutching at Nicoâs chest despite his courteous choice of words.
âWe will,â Talia forces a smile. Nico gets the feeling she isnât 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 Lukeâs car on one side of the garage, and Nico and Talia heading to his on the other, and Nico canât even let out a sigh of pseudo-relief before Talia jumps on him.
âThat was weird.â
âWe broke up, they werenât expecting to see us together.â 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 doesnât feel the need to talk.Â
âItâs been like 3 weeks, most couples get back together after their first breakup.â
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.
âWeâre not most couples,â 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. âYou dumped me over text a week before Christmas, weâre not getting back together.â
âOh yeah, I bet you were real cut up about it,â she jibes, sarcastically. âProbably 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.â
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 canât bear to twist himself even further into knots to skirt around mentioning the girl who did make him better.
âWeâre not having this conversation right now.â He decides, tapping at the screen in the console of his car until he brings up the navigation. âPut in the address you need, weâre not too far from The Heights.â
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. Itâs the last place he imagines some hacker to be shacked up, but maybe thatâs the point.
He still doesnât entirely understand the ethical part.
âItâs the one with the red brick and the balcony,â Talia points to the other side of the road as she unbuckles her seatbelt, and Nico looks over at the building as if heâs going to be able to see all the secrets stored within it.
âAre you sure?â
âYeah, number 414.â She shows him the messages she has exchanged with the guy, and sure enough, the address matches up. âCâmon, the sooner we get in there, the sooner we can figure this out.â
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.Â
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, heâd 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 theyâre being lured into some kind of trap, he could definitely take this guy - he canât even maintain direct eye contact, never mind manage to subdue a man of Nicoâs stature.
âYou didnât tell me you were bringing someone, Talia.â
Heâs soft-spoken, his voice ever so nasally, and despite the fact that heâs talking to the girl behind him, his gaze has settled on Nicoâs chest.
âMy nameâs Nico.â 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. â
âI know who you are.â He doesnât shake Nicoâs hand. âIâm Myles. Come in.â
Myles doesnât 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.Â
Nico isnât 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 canât tell are on until theyâre standing straight in front of them.
Myles throws himself down into the large swivel chair, spinning until heâs facing the two of them and crossing his arms over his torso with disinterest. âSo, nudes?â
Straight to the point. Nico canât exactly be mad at it.
Talia steps out from behind him, handing her unlocked phone to Myles. âThe messages started last week, just after New Years. Straight to my number, not in DMs or anything, but the number doesnât even come up for me to call it from another phone or anything, just says unknown.â
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.Â
âThatâs more helpful than you think, they have to use an app to be able to anonymously text you, makes it easier to identify them.â
The way Myles talks is monotonous and detached, but the way he works is anything but. His fingers move quicker than Nicoâs 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.
âSo we can find out who it is just from that?â He asks, arms folding over his chest as he watches in almost-awe.
âNot exactly. If it is a hacker, I could identify their signature. Doesnât mean I could identify them, but we can work around it potentially.â
Talia throws herself down on the couch behind them exasperatedly, sighing loudly and making her displeasure known. âYou told me you could track them down, thatâs what Iâm paying you to do.â
âI told you I could help you, I didnât say I could specifically track anyone, thatâs not how this works.â
âHow does it work then?â 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 thatâs been deduced, he uses another to enter a backdoor into that appâs servers, perusing through them until he finds the account that sent the text, making sure the date, time and then content line up. Once heâs 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.
âYouâre telling me you have the power to do all this and you donât use it to like rob banks or something?â
âEthical hacker, clueâs in the name.â Myles shrugs. Nico looks back to Talia, her jaw set as she picks at her nails out of boredom. Itâs probably taken about fifteen minutes for this guy to work an absolute miracle, and she looks like she couldnât care less. âWe 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.â
âWhoa whoa,â Talia shoots up, âWonât that make him mad? Make him just post all the photos?â
âI doubt it,â 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. âTheyâre not even real.â
âIâm sorry?â
âExcuse me?â
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.
âTheyâre called deep fakes. Photoshop, essentially.â He has that aloof tone to his words again, and Nico canât quite believe how simple it seems for him to say. âThey 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. Iâd assume the video they have is the same.â
âHow is that even possible?â Talia gasps, pushing herself forward and snatching the mouse from Mylesâ 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.Â
Itâs Talia - that much is obvious from the initial close up of her face - but Nico doesnât recognise anything else about it. He doesnât recognise the room sheâs in, the bed sheâs on, the things sheâs doing. Heâs never seen this before. Itâs definitely not one of the videos she had sent him, and when he looks closer, he realises the little moles on her ribs arenât even there.
None of it is real.
âYou said he sent you the photos? You didnât realise they werenât the ones you took?â He canât conceal the bite in his tone, his brows furrowing as he looks at her in disbelief. Sheâs flown out here, disrupted his peace, blamed him for blackmailing her, and she canât even recognise what is or isnât her own body.Â
âThey looked real, I-,â 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. âI wouldnât have accused you if they didnât look real, Nico.â She snaps, frowning at him like this is his fault. âYou have no idea what itâs like to be threatened like that, I wonât have you blame me for panicking.â
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 thereâs panicking, and then thereâs this.
She had accused him of ruining her life.
âWhat about the rest of it?â Nico asks, âLike how did he get her number or have my address? You said he had other information?â
âHe did,â Talia nods, looking over to Myles.
âThe 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.â Myles starts his typing again, keeping a tight grip on his mouse so that it canât be snatched again. âI could probably find out actually, theyâre pretty easy to spot, do you clear your history often?â
âI wouldnât even know how to do that,â
âPerfect,â Again, his fingertips work at lightening speed, and Nico watches as instagram opens on one of the screens. âYeah, 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.â
Nico rolls his eyes, that small ebb of pity washing almost completely away, and before Talia can stop him, Myles carries on. âSome 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.â
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 Taliaâs games for far too long, he realises.Â
Of course she had been the one to leak everything - who else would have had those photos - but he hadnât 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 guyâs 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.
âNico, that wasnât-,â Taliaâs panic is evident, wide eyes, trembling hands raised in defence, âI must have been hacked,â
âActually, thereâs no-,â Myles begins to interject, fingers working again to fact check, but Nico doesnât need him to validate what he already knows.
âShut up,â Talia snarls, with a finger pointed at him, âYou donât know what youâre talking about, weâre done here.â She reaches forward to snatch her phone back, yanking out the wire that connects it to his monitors and throwing it onto the desk. âWeâre leaving, and if you think Iâm paying you anything, youâre deluded.âÂ
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 sheâs probably outside and waiting for him back at his car.
âDoesnât she want me to shut this thing down?â
âIâll pay you.â Nico sighs, reaching into his pocket for his phone and trying to push down the feeling that arises when heâs met with a blank lock screen.
Poppy hasnât messaged him.Â
Not that he deserves for her to make it easy, to let him off the hook and pretend he hasnât royally fucked things up with her.
âIf you stop him, does he still have all the photos? He could still release them?â
âYeah, but theyâre pretty easy to validate as fakes, especially when you have the source material. I donât think this guy is sophisticated enough for a full blown hack into her phone for the real thing. I couldnât find evidence of any breach of her cloud or her device.â
Nico nods, but the information does little to quell the anxiety that squeezes his chest in a vice-like grip.Â
This whole morning has been nothing but a giant waste of his time. From the second his eyes opened, to this moment right now, heâs made nothing but mistakes.
Not putting his phone on sleep mode before he and Poppy went to bed had been a mistake. Taking Taliaâs 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 canât 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.
Heâs never felt so ashamed of himself, in such disbelief at his own decisions.
Why didnât he just wake her?
Sheâs the most level-headed, acceptable person he knows. She would have understood. He hadnât had a reasonable explanation at the time, and he doesnât 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 itâs too late.
If he thinks about the feeling settling in his stomach, if he can compare it to anything, itâs 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 heâll make it before heâs jiggling at a red hot handle that wonât move, wonât give, wonât 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 heâd made his way out of Mylesâ condo, when he had found her waiting by his Mercedes with crossed arms and a sour look on her face, but heâd told her he didnât want to hear it, that theyâd 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 wasnât 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.Â
âWould it have killed you to defend me in there?â She scoffs as soon as the door closes behind them in his apartment, âYou just let him accuse me of all that stuff and completely invade my privacy!â
Nico screws his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose.
He canât blow up, canât stoop to her level. He wonât feel good after the fact. He knows how Talia operates, should have known sheâd immediately play the victim card, and he isnât falling into the trap of arguing to the point of being in the wrong.
Heâll say something he regrets and sheâll use it to her advantage, somehow.
âYou asked him to go through your phone, Talia.â 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. âHeâs shut down the guy behind it, he canât message you or anyone else with any more threats, you should be happy.â
âI should be happy?â She follows him wherever he tries to get away, crowding his space and jabbing a pointed finger into his arm. âYou have no idea what Iâve been going through this past week. I thought my career was over! How was I supposed to know it was fake?â
âYou didnât even look at the pictures-,â
âBecause I was panicking! I was upset, you canât expect me to be able to recognise whatâs been photoshopped when Iâm scared like that!â
âBut you can fly straight over here and pin the blame on me for ruining your life? You werenât too upset to point the finger, Talia,â
âDonât be an asshole, Nico, it doesnât suit you.âÂ
âIâm being the asshole? You donât 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 donât even know, for what, Talia? For money?â
âI donât need their money-,â
âSo 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?â
âOh my God,â 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. âStop playing the victim, for Christâs sake, youâre hardly heartbroken over it. I know for a fact youâve been hooking up with someone, one of the girls messaged me that they saw you leave a party with her on New Years!â
âSo thatâs what this is?â Nico snaps, pointing to her, to her stuff, âYou think Iâm moving on so you fly back out here and spring this bullshit on me, try to make me feel bad?â
âYou have some nerve, Nico,â Talia scoffs, folding her arms across her chest and levelling him with a darkened glare.
âI have nerve? Youâre 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.â Heâs getting sick of walking on egg shells around the topic. If she hadnât have been messaging people she wasnât supposed to, this would never have happened - itâs no oneâs fault but her own, and as harsh as it may be, he wants to wash his hands of the whole thing. âCalling me in the middle of the night, telling me I ruined your life, saying I need to give you money?â
âOut of nowhere?â Of course she would only pick up on that, he thinks. âMy God, you are so self-absorbed.â
âWhat the hell is that supposed to mean?â
âDo you think that dating you is easy?â She questions with a measured step toward him. âDo you think I want to spend my life waiting around for my boyfriend, only for him to only ever come home grumpy,â another step, âOr whiny,â and another, âOr too tired and achey to do anything? And thatâs when you do come home at all and arenât half way across the country with the communication skills of a candle. Itâs 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.â
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.
âI didnât 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.â
âYou knew what you were getting into, Talia. You knew my job, knew my life.â 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 canât say she came into the relationship completely oblivious to the downsides of dating a professional player.
âNot really,â she shrugs, âAll 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 doesnât keep them hidden away like some dirty secret.â
âThat isnât fair, I canât control that stuff, Talia, itâs not my fault.â He wants to point out that she was the one engaging in their gossip and riling them up, but he canât keep harping on about something she refuses to acknowledge. He doesnât have the time, patience or energy for it anymore.
The initial âleakingâ 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 wasnât 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.
Heâd told her he supported her, but he couldnât 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 hadnât 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 doesnât see it that way, now.
âMaybe not, but if Iâd have known that being with you meant having my life invaded, my career ruined, I never would have followed you back here, Nico.â She sounds more solemn now - regretful, even - and as deep as her words cut, she says it like a piece of advice, âI just hope whatever poor girl youâve got tangled up in your mess this time knows what sheâs getting herself into.â
âAnd whatâs that?â 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 doesnât budge.
This is what sheâs good at.
Turning the tables. Reducing him to uncertainty of himself, of his actions, of his memory of their time together.
âA one-sided relationship with a guy who will never be able to put her first.â
Thereâs 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 thereâs no possible way for him to win. Itâs sort of comparable to the way his insides churn when heâs 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 heâs hiking, and he dares to take a peek over the edge of whatever mountainside heâs 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.
âWhoever she is, and I know she exists, she doesnât deserve that. Itâs not fair.â
Nicoâs 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. Theyâve spent more time together as friends than he has with any other girlfriend heâs had.
Heâs wanted her for years, of course he can do it.
Except, deep down, he knows he canât. 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 thereâll come a point soon into the season where he has to knuckle down and focus, canât let anything or anyone distract him, and heâll close himself off. Itâs what he has always done. He gets in his head, starts to carry too much weight that he canât 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 canât prioritise anything other than the game heâs already dedicated his life to, his training, and most importantly, his team.
It isnât about what he wants.
What have you done? He thinks, his chest aching.
Talia is right.
Poppy doesnât deserve that.
She doesnât deserve him only being there in the physical sense, if she even gets that at all. Doesnât deserve him getting snappy and stressed, doesnât deserve him not being able to give her time, or give her attention or affection like he wants to, or like sheâs worthy of.
âI need to go.â 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. âLeave the keys, I donât want you here when I get back.â
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 heâs 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 Jackâs 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.Â
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 wasnât 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.
Sheâd 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 wasnât 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 familyâs disapproving faces - but the guys had charmed her.
Jack had been somewhat relentless in his pursuit of Poppyâs 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 parentâs house and took it over to his and Tyâs place when she came back home so she could mother him into having his 5-a-day as if he didnât 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.
Nicoâs charm was entirely different.
Nicoâs 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 havenât eaten either, we should go for lunch together and Iâve 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 couldnât 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.Â
There wasnât 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. Heâd 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.Â
And that first time sheâd fallen asleep beside him, heâd done the same.
Heâd 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.
Sheâd been a little startled, hand shooting up to wipe at her chin and thankful she hadnât been drooling on him - although with the easy smile he was giving her, she had thought he of all people wouldnât have minded.Â
âMovieâs done, do you need a ride home?â 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 Nicoâs car, and he had driven her back to her apartment, chatting on the drive about work and training.Â
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.Â
Heâd 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.
Sheâd never expected to drift asleep with him on Jackâs couch - had never expected to open her eyes to the sight of his looking so warmly back at her.
And she hadnât expected the same thing this morning, because, as her eyes drifted open to the intrusive light peaking through the cracks in her curtains, it wasnât 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 hadnât.
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. Heâd 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 doesnât 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.Â
That quickly turns to her imagining the worst, and a tight, constricting feeling starts to consume her chest.Â
There isnât 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.
Niaâs warnings from the night before donât 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 wonât 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, donât 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 donât want to have to bring this up but for the love of God, Poppy, have some class. I donât 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 whatâs 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 daughterâs sex life.
If she knew what was really going down last night, her mom would probably have a conniption.
Knowing sheâll no doubt be getting a call later that evening, Poppy swipes away at her text thread with her mom, immediately checking the notifications she hasnât long received from her best friend.
Nia: hey if you happen to release yourself from Nicoâs wandering hands at all today me and Kelsey are grabbing breakfast by my work!!
Nia: if you need refuelling weâll be at Marcoâs at 9 đÂ
Perfect. Therein lies her escape. Breakfast with her best friends, where they can hopefully talk her down from the ledge sheâs precariously placed herself on.
A catch up with her girls, and then she can distract herself with work.
Poppy: Iâll be there!!
âHasnât he text you or anything?â 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 Niaâs 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 Marcoâs carried on despite Poppy living further down the river and working even further away in Newark.Â
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 Niaâs 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.
âNope,â she sighs, swiping to refresh her messages as if she hasnât put her phone on loud just to be alerted when he does reach out.
âHave you text him?â
âNope,â she repeats, putting the phone down and leaning back in her chair, running a hand through her already messed up hair. Sheâs going to have to throw it up if she wants to look any sort of presentable when she gets to work later.
âIs he usually this pathetic at communicating?â Kelsey asks, manicured nails swiping at a bunch of Sweetân Lows like sheâs trying to play Tetris with the packets.Â
Kelsey hasnât 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 Niaâs.
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 Poppyâs idea of hell-spawn.
The kind of guy her mother would probably love.
Liam worked on Wall Street, couldnât 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 Kelseyâs 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 didnât 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 isnât.
She knows it isnât malicious, but she restrains from letting Kelsey all the way in, all the same.
âNot really,â Poppy lies, not wanting to clue her in on the Big Freezewhere he didnât speak to her for months on end. It doesnât entirely help her case. âI just donât get why heâd sneak out to see her of all people, he told me they werenât ever that solid, that he wasnât happy with her.â
âOoh, what if sheâs pregnant?â 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. âMaybe sheâs back to baby-trap him.â
Poppy thinks she would have to flee the state.
Nico is a family guy - if Talia is pregnant, heâd 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 sheâll 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.Â
Maybe sheâd have to flee the country even - move somewhere remote where she doesnât even have the chance of being reminded of hockey, let alone of him.
Somewhere with no coffee shops that sheâd enter, and the smell of fresh pastries would remind her of all the breakfasts they had together. No railways, where sheâd 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 wouldnât be able to cope with losing him like that, living her life in an endless mental cycle of what ifs and maybes.
âKelsey, I beg of you to read the room,â Nia chastises, swatting the girl on her arm before taking Poppyâs hand in her own. âDonât listen to her, she just wants us all to be single at the same time.â
âSue 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 donât wanna be tied down to a guy hung up on his ex right now.â
âDating pool?â Nia scoffs, turning to glare at her, âYouâre hardly dry from your last relationship.â
âIâd rather be a grape than a raisin, Ni.â Kelsey chides back, and Poppy canât help the twitch of her lips at the horrific comparison.Â
âYouâre really gonna listen to a girl who says that?â 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.
âYou are terrible at analogies, Kels,â 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.Â
âIâm trying to encourage you to be a strong, independent woman here!â
âShe is a strong, independent woman,â Nia defends, âShe also happens to be a chronic over-thinker with a deep seated fear of confrontation.â
âI donât fear confrontation.â
âThen why are we here chit-chatting about hypothetical scenarios when you could just text him and ask whatâs up?â
âMaybe âcause thatâs scary?â Poppy scoffs, only half joking. âWhat 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?â
âSounds like youâve got it all figured out, you donât even need us.â
Poppy rolls her eyes. Â
She could text him. Could be casual about it, a good morning or even an are you okay? Those donât warrant the alarm bells sheâs afraid of raising - the ones that blare out with the siren sound of run, this girl is unhealthily attached to you already!
But she doesnât want to be the pathetic girl chasing after the guy sending her clear messages that he doesnât want her.
Itâs 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 hadnât 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 otherâs 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.
âI donât know what to do,â She groans, throwing her head into her hands and scrunching her eyes shut to try and drown out the endless doubt.Â
She feels two hands rub at either sides of her back, âListen, Pop,â Nia is the first to attempt to console her, as always, and Poppy holds her breath for the harsh reality check sheâs about to throw her way. âYou 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. Iâve watched the two of you ignore your feelings for far too long to let you get in your own way, now.
âAnd youâre forgetting I saw him last night, before you got there, there isnât a chance in Hell he would have left you like that without a good reason. I donât for a second think heâs still hung up on her.â Nia casts a side eye to Kelsey.
The only problem is that Poppy isnât sure thereâs 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.
âI 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?â
âAn idiot,â Kelsey mutters around her drink, rolling her eyes when Nia sends her another death-glare.
âIâm not asking you to forget, Iâm telling you to wait.â Nia frowns, but her tone remains consoling and warm. âYou need to stop letting what this thinks,â she flicks at Poppyâs forehead, âGet in the way of what this knows.â She points to her chest on the left side. âYou know him. You know how much he likes you.â
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, itâs his most attractive attribute. Heâs gentle and loving and she needs to focus on those things over anything else.
âUgh, corny,â Kelsey drags, and despite her repeated efforts to discourage her, Poppy knows she isnât being entirely serious. âIf he has any non-stupid hot athlete friends though, Iâm first in line when the two of you kiss and make up for double dates.â
Guilt pricks slightly at Poppyâs 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.
âYouâd make such a good WAG, Kels.â
Itâs 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.
âI know.â
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 sheâs been putting off for God knows how long, sorts all her invoices out - she even sends a fax. In the year 2024. Itâs her most productive work day she thinks sheâs 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 sheâs walked these very halls by Nicoâs side, and she thinks sheâs done just about enough to clear her mind for the time being.
She hasnât thought up some heart wrenching scenario in at least an hour by the time sheâs wrapping up for the day.
Sheâs 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.
âYouâre gonna make yourself sick doing that, you know.â
âYouâre such a mom,â he scoffs, standing up and clearly trying not to sway, âYou ever tried having fun? I think I saw a glue stick on a table out there,â he points through the door into the wider office space, where there are a few, less private cubicles and a common area. âWe should go sniff them, let loose a little.â
âIs that why youâre here on your day off? To huff glue?â
âYeah, I donât get to let loose enough. Being a rookie in the NHL is hard, Poppy,â
âBummer for you.â 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. âIf youâre chasing a high can you do it with one of the other departments, itâs not a good look for the Youth Foundation.â
âI wonât tell if you donât.â
When Luke had first joined the Devils, she hadnât expected that she would warm to him the way she has - but, surprisingly enough, considering the fact theyâre brothers, their relationship recently has started to mirror her and Jackâs.
Luke is funny. Heâs sarcastic and a little silly, and it can be nice to have him around when work gets a little stressful. He doesnât 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 Jackâs ever-so-busy schedule takes him elsewhere.
She canât think of another time heâs just shown up in her office alone.
Especially on his incredibly rare day off.
âWhy are you actually here?â She asks, casting a suspicious but half-playful glare his way as she starts to pack up her things.Â
âCame to see if you wanted to join us for dinner.â
âAw Lukey,â she reaches over her desk to pinch his cheek, âIâm flattered and all but Iâm a little too old for you.â
âHa ha,â he swats her hand away, âUs. Me and Jack. Maybe a couple of the others if theyâre free but you can pick where we go if you make a decision quickly, we were thinking a steakhouse.â
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. âWhy?â She drags out the question, her movements stopping completely.
âMaybe âcause humans need sustenance to live? What do you mean, why?â
âWhy would you want me to tag along on your bro date?â
âDonât call it a bro date,â Luke cringes, âJust remembered you were working today and we were in the area, donât know why youâre being weird about it.â
âYouâre being weird. You guys never let me choose where we eat. Donât 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 âcause he wanted sushi.â
âDonât blame me for the crimes of my brother, Poppy, he was obviously joking.â
âI had to eat tofu, Luke, I donât find that very funny.â
âAre you coming or not?â
âThat depends, how do you have your steak?â
âWell done.â
âOh! Then absolutely not.â
âRemind me never to try to be nice to you again.â He scowls as they make their way out of her office, and she locks up behind the two of them.
âGladly, itâs creeping me out.â 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. âIs something going on, seriously?â
Luke rolls his eyes, but she knows him well enough that itâs only done in an attempt to avert from her gaze.Â
Bingo. Heâs hiding something.
âI just thought you might want some company.â He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets and twisting his lips to keep from saying much more.
âWhy?â
If Poppy wanted to spend her life getting a straight answer out of people for a living, sheâd have become an interrogator. What is it with these guys and their inability to answer a simple question?
âJack said you left the party last night with Nico.â
Poppyâs 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-
âYouâve seen him?â
âThis morning.â
âOh.â
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 doesnât want to say something he knows will hurt her feelings.
She had to have been with him. He wouldnât just show up to her office like this if it wasnât something that would seriously hurt.
She wishes she wasnât 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 canât help it. Sheâs been doing it all her life, and thereâs rarely ever an instance where her instincts have led her astray.
She knows itâs some weird part of her mind protecting her, but she needs to do something here. Niaâs words from earlier ring like a warning. Donât 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 wouldnât 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 canât even comprehend to begin with.
She reaches her arms around Lukeâs 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 sheâs going through something.
âThank you for the offer, Luke, but Iâll be alright.â
âAre you sure?â
She nods, a tender smile tugging at the corners of her stubborn lips. It takes over her face, eyes glinting fondly and cheeks warming.Â
âYeah, you can walk me to my car if youâre that worried about me though.â She loops her arm through his elbow as they make their way to the parking lot, and when they get there, he makes sure sheâs in her car and has set off before him and Jack leave.
As if her day canât 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 sheâs trudging up 6 flights of stairs.
Sheâs 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 heâs no doubt been taking his cap on and off for however long heâs been stood here, running a hand through the tresses until theyâre all askew.Â
His shoulders are slumped, and he doesnât 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 doesnât provide the comfort she had thought it would.
She feels anxious. A culmination of the dayâs emotions washing over in one go. Sad, regretful, nervous, disappointed - all things she shouldnât be used to feeling when it comes to Nico, but are all too familiar when she takes the last few months into account.
âHi.â She gives a weak smile of her own.
âCan we talk?â
She wishes heâd 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 doesnât. 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 sheâs turned away from him, she tries to let whatever emotions need to come out cross her features where he canât see them.
She needs to be cool about this, she thinks.
If she doesnât get her back up, doesnât get agitated, she wonât scare him off.
âAre you okay?â She asks once sheâs turned to face him, not liking how he stands unmoving by the door. He hasnât made any effort to settle in - his jacket still on and his hands still hidden in the pockets.
âShouldnât I be the one asking you that?â
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 doesnât back up - not immediately, not obviously - but he hardly welcomes her approach, either.
She doesnât like feeling this way when it comes to talking to him - feeling uneasy and unsure, but thereâs a part of her thatâs tired of having to prompt him for answers.
He had been the one to leave this morning. Why canât he just come out and tell her why?
âIâm alright,â she shrugs, not wanting to scare him off with the truth. âSuper tired, though, can we sit?â
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 doesnât sit right beside her as he normally would, and she finds herself missing the way his thigh usually brushes against her own.
She doesnât 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 theyâre currently in, they arenât quite at the end yet.
But a part of her feels it coming.
Sheâd known it this morning if she lets herself listen to the rational voice in her head. As soon as sheâd heard him say her name, as soon as heâd left, a part of her knew that was it, and maybe if sheâd let herself believe it at the time - hadnât talked herself down and convinced herself she was being irrational - she could have protected herself from all the ways this is going to hurt.
âIâm sorry.â He says, and when she looks up, heâs looking down where his large hands are now clasped together in his lap.
âFor what?â She manages to choke out.
âLast night, I,â 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 itâs no use.
Heâs 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.
âI care about you so much, Poppy.â
That sentence shouldnât be the one that fills her with dread, but it is.
âYouâre my best friend, and I love you,â 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. âThis morning, I panicked, and I just needed some time to figure out what I want.â
No, no, no.
Sheâd rather he tell her what actually happened than do this. Than pretend he left because he doesnât want her.
âI love you-,â
âYou said that, already.â She canât help the bite in her tone as she prepares herself for the hit. The I love you, but.
âYouâre so important to me. Being your friend, itâs like itâs what keeps me sane lately.â
She chews at the inside of her cheek as she feels the tears start to well at her lash line.
âPoppy, I donât want to mess up what we have,â 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. âI donât want to hurt you.â
âYou donât think this is hurting me?â She feels weak as her voice breaks, âYou donât think this is already messy?â
She reaches out to take his hands in hers, digging in to unclasp them, to try thread her fingers through, but he doesnât make it easy.
âNico, I love you, too, you know I do, we can figure it out, you donât have to run away from me.â
Itâs a desperate attempt and she knows it is, but she needs to know she tried. When sheâs sobbing into her pillow and crying herself to sleep tonight, she needs to know she didnât just let him go without a fight.
âI canât give you what you want, I canât be in a relationship, Iâm no good at it.âÂ
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 canât help herself. When he says, I canât be in a relationship, he means with her. He canât be with Poppy. He would be no good with Poppy.
âWhy are you doing this?â
âI told you-,â
âNo, you said before that youâve wanted this for as long as youâve known me, you donât just wake up and change your mind, not after-,â 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.Â
The voice inside her that tells her he got what he wanted and decided it wasnât for him sounds caustic and bitter, and if she hadnât 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.
âI have to put the team first, it doesnât matter what I want, I have to focus on them, on hockey.â
Sheâs 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 isnât getting the whole story, that heâs lying to her, and that the excuse heâs giving is cowardly.
He still hasnât mentioned the call, hasnât mentioned Talia, hasnât explained why he left her, why he didnât say anything, why he didnât come back.
âAnd you didnât know that before?â She scoffs, pushing herself up off the couch and stepping away from him, âI canât believe you would do this to me.â She wipes the tears from her cheeks as soon as they fall, but she canât rid her skin of the feeling that they were there, her flesh damp and sore.
âI know we took things a little too far last night, but that doesnât mean-,â 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 doesnât even have to fill in the gaps, this time. Took things a little too far is clear enough. âWe can still be friends. I want to be friends.â
âFriends?â 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. âYou should go.â
âPoppy,â
âI canât,â she tries so hard not to cry, knowing she wonât 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. âYou told me you wanted more, you said I was yours, and Iâm supposed to just act like it never happened? Just accept you didnât actually mean the things you said?â
âI meant them,â he says, defiantly, so sure of himself that it makes her head spin. âI wouldnât-,â
âNo, you didnât. Youâre a liar. You were either lying then, or youâre lying now. I donât know which is worse. I canât be your friend. I canât pretend like you can that I donât feel the way I feel.â
âPlease, Mohn,â 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.
âDonât.â 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. âYou should take this back.â
Nico shakes his head, stepping back and away from the outstretched hand that holds her gemstone bracelet like itâs an actual danger to him. âNo, thatâs yours, Poppy.â
âI donât want it.â She knows sheâs the one thatâs lying now. She wants the bracelet. She wants him. She doesnât want him to leave. She wants to be his friend over being nothing.Â
But she doesnât 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 canât keep hold of a constant reminder of the pain, canât 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.
âI want you to leave.â
âPlease,â he begs again, head tilting as devastation floods his features, brows pushing together, tears welling at the corners of his eyes, âWe need to talk about this-,â
âNo, you were right, we went too far, it was a mistake.â Her voice breaks as she says things she knows she doesnât mean, but heâs already put it out there, so she doesnât see the harm in echoing his own opinions. âThereâs nothing more to talk about.â
She canât 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 isnât going to give her the whole truth, she isnât 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.
âI do love you, Poppy. Iâm leaving because I donât want to upset you any more than I already have, and Iâll give you space if thatâs what you need, but Iâll be here when you want to talk about this. I mean it when I say I canât lose you.â
 She doesnât say anything. She canât say anything.
Thereâs a stabbing pain thatâs building and building in the centre of her chest, and she doesnât 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.Â
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 wouldnât 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)
#nico hischier#nico hischier x oc#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier fanfiction#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#*oys#*writing#word of warning to anyone writing anything ever don't leave yourself stupid instructions#thinking inspiration will strike when needed#surprise surprise motherfucker it won't!!!!!!#anyway that last convo very our field of dreams engulfed in fire your arson's match your somber eyes and I'll still see it until I die#you're the loss of my life coded
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i love love love worst wolverine and reader falling in love all over again after losing each other in their universes đ„ș
#itâs so soft đ„șđ„șđ„șđđ itâs so soulmates coded#youâve lost your logan you think you wonât ever love or be loved like this again#and you meet this grumpy angry man whoâs supposed to be the worst version of the love of your life#and you end up deeply in love đŠ#logan howlett#wolverine#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#worst wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine
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