#I also have a lot of self hate and don’t believe I’m able to be loved anyways

[lilislegacy]

The way haters just boil Annabeth's character to just insulting Percy and not seeing theres more to her really shows how much they dont get her. Honestly Percy would hate them for this...

thanks for the ask @emilia9622!

agreed completely. like if you want to dislike a character, go for it. but don’t lie to yourself. don’t base it all off of one thing or flaw and make it 100x bigger than it is.

for instance, i don’t like luke. but it’s for a multitude of reasons. he knowingly betrayed all his friends several times, fought a deadly war against them, and intentionally poisoned the camp. he was percy’s first friend at camp and was a mentor to him, but had no issues lying to him and deceiving him. he literally was fine with the idea of 12 year old little percy being dragged down to tartarus. he also let annabeth be kidnapped and forced to hold up the world. when he finally saw thalia alive, he fought her and tried to harm her. yes i know that there is very complex trauma and history that led to all his actions, and i really do feel so bad for him, but i can’t respect someone who betrays his close friends like that. no matter what. i could go on and on, and don’t get me started about him having romantic feelings for annabeth… UGH. but that said, i understand why people love his character. he’s complex and has a lot of really good history. he also has a wonderful, yet tragic, redemption at the end. he really deserved better. i don’t have love for him, but his character deserves love. i’m happy that there are people to love him so that i don’t have to, because i have personal reasons for not liking him. i think luke is an amazingly well written character and i think rick wrote him beautifully. the truth is, besides the singular part where he admitted he had feelings for annabeth, i wouldn’t change anything about him or his story. so personally, i don’t like him, but i think he’s a great character and objectively, i can see why people love him.

it’s okay to dislike a character. but don’t pick their biggest flaws, strip away all the good parts of the character, and fool yourself into believing that’s all they are. (and then continue to go on tumblr and scream about how toxic and terrible the character is 🙄)

this is what “people can’t handle complex characters” actually means. people often throw that phrase around. people say that about readers not liking jason all the time, but the truth is, people are fully entitled to not like jason. it doesn’t make sense to me, because i LOVE jason. he’s my cutie patootie. but the people who dislike him simply don’t like him. they don’t usually make him out to be someone he’s not, they just don’t like him for who he is. they often just don’t find him interesting enough to break down the more complex parts of his character. it breaks my heart, and i don’t understand, but that’s okay. they just don’t like him. there’s nothing else to it. most annabeth haters, however, make her out to be someone she’s not and then proceed to hate on that one self-generated version of her. it’s so toxic. THAT is not being able to handle a complex character

no, annabeth is not perfect. if she was, she would be unrealistic, and people would hate her for that too. yes, she has excessive pride. she tends to think herself above others, and yes that even includes percy at times. but you know what? she admitted to having that issue all the way back in book 2. she was literally 13 when she explained to percy what hubris is and how it’s her biggest downfall. she’s a self aware queen. she knows it’s an issue and she works hard to correct it in little ways and make sure the people around her, especially percy, know she values them and their opinions. anyone who read the heroes of olympus series unbiased and got to read her POV knows that annabeth holds percy in the highest regard. she respects the hell out of him. even though sometimes she says things that aren’t nice, she doesn’t truly feel that way and always corrects it in some way. she’s not selfish, she’s just tragically intelligent, and it naturally gives her a bit of a complex. it wouldn’t make sense if it didn’t.

and i love her for it. the fact that she has a real flaw that can affect relationships, but that she is self aware of and actively works on, makes her legit one of my favorite characters ever. she’s SO realistic.

but people take that one flaw and make it her whole character. they call her cold and harsh, when in reality she’s one of the most warm and sensitive people in the series. she takes care of her friends. she’s strong and she’s often the leader, but it’s because she’s so loving and kind all the time. she works hard and looks out for everyone. she makes friends fast for a reason. she’s a wonderful person. she’s so, so sweet, and it breaks my heart that people choose to take that away from her.

anyway, sorry i just word vomited so much. basically i agree 100%.

[genderqueerdykes]

hi i’m sorry if this is too heavy of a question, but i was told that Testosterone HRT can make you die sooner if you go in it vs. if you don’t? is this true? i’ve tried looking up medical articles but i’m not good with researching this kind of thing and i’m not currently seeing a doctor so i can’t ask them. thanks for the help

hi there!

fortunately for you, and everyone who takes testosterone HRT: that is a trans(andro)phobic, antimasculine, butchphobic, and intersexist myth spread by radfems. there is no scientific or medical basis in anyone who has higher testosterone levels will guaranteed have a shortened lifespan

what is happening when people propose that argument is they are taking what can possibly happen to some people who have high T and/or take testosterone HRT and blow it way out of proportion. some of the POSSIBLE complications testosterone HRT COULD present are:

high/elevated blood pressure in some people

increased red blood cell production, which Can lead to easier clotting if blood is not donated or medications are not taken to thin the blood in some people

reproductive health issues in some people

liver and/or kidney damage in some people who are prone to liver/kidney issues, and/or take more testosterone than prescribed

there can be other complications, but the point stands that these are all potential things that can happen to some people. not every person who takes T gets elevated blood pressure, for example. many people had low blood pressure beforehand and find that they are more stabilized. many people who previously were underweight benefit from a bit of weight gain. most people who take T do not overproduce red blood cells in a dangerous amount, but in folks who do, there are options to mitigate this.

some people cannot take T due to health issues, and that's okay, that person is not detransitioning in order to preserve their health. these people deserve to have their situations taken seriously. but, not everyone faces health troubles due to starting hormones. people can also have adverse affects on health when taking estrogen. there is always a risk of harming one's self when introducing substances into the body in higher amounts than it was previously used to.

most people have some levels of both estrogens and testosterone in them at all times. elevating or lowering anything can cause a shock to the system but a lot of the time, these things are temporary or can be solved with medication. many people just never experience any of this. there's no guarantee that anyone will be harmed by taking testosterone HRT

i hope that helps! i can't believe this has gotten to be so widespread. i appreciate you taking the time to ask. i've been on T for 9 years. had my heart checked last year because i had an extra beat that was unnerving me due to being constantly exposed to cigarette smoke. my heart is healthy, my blood pressure is easily managed by 1 medication, i don't have an issue with blood clots, and my liver and kidneys have been checked twice within the past year and they're good to go as well. people just assume that testosterone is evil ands pread the myth that it'll kill you because of antimasculism, trans(andro)phobia, butchphobia, intersexism, and man hating.

radfems have been trying to do everything in their power to turn people off of T because of how badly they hate men and mascs. if you want to look into starting T, your prescriber will run a lot of tests to make sure you are in good health for it. if not you may be able to use very low dose T. most people do not experience adverse health effects inherently due to T. i hope this helps!

take care! feel free to have any more questions you may have

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Five

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

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

WC: 17k (holy moly)

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

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Four)

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

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

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

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

Nico

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have money.”

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

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

“Not enough for what?”

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you dressed?”

Nico stops in his tracks.

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

But he hadn’t changed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talia. Hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He still doesn’t entirely understand the ethical part.

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How does it work then?” Nico asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

None of it is real.

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

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

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

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

She had accused him of ruining her life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poppy hasn’t messaged him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why didn’t he just wake her?

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just needs to get rid of Talia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t need their money-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is what she’s good at.

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

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

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

This feels like all those feelings.

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

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

He can put Poppy first.

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

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

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

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

It isn’t about what he wants.

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

Talia is right.

Poppy doesn’t deserve that.

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

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

He needs to see Poppy.

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

Poppy

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nico’s charm was entirely different.

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

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

And he became hers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Talia.

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

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

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

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

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

But it hadn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2 missed calls from Mom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poppy: I’ll be there!!

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you text him?”

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

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

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

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

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

But that changed once they graduated.

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

The kind of guy her mother would probably love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poppy thinks she would have to flee the state.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t fear confrontation.”

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

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

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

Poppy rolls her eyes.  

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

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

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

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

It was desperate.

And maybe that scared him.

It sure as hell scares her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She does.

She knows Nico, she trusts him.

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

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

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

“You’d make such a good WAG, Kels.”

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

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

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

But he never seeks her out like this.

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

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

Especially on his incredibly rare day off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you coming or not?”

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

“Well done.”

“Oh! Then absolutely not.”

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

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

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

Bingo. He’s hiding something.

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

Unless-

“You’ve seen him?”

“This morning.”

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we talk?”

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

Nothing good ever comes of can we talk?

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

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

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

She needs to be cool about this, she thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But a part of her feels it coming.

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

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

“For what?” She manages to choke out.

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

He’s sorry for last night.

Last night, he made a mistake.

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

“I care about you so much, Poppy.”

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

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

No, no, no.

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

“I love you-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Poppy,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she doesn’t want to hurt.

Looking at him hurts.

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

“I want you to leave.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter

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

[bicheetopuff]

Grill I have a sudden thought. Epiphany if you will.. Call it curiosity even!

Kirishima is kind of a parallel torwards Izuku in some way when being friends with Kats (just more, confident and less bullying and Kiri being a rock)

But what about Iida?

like, For some reason- Iida does seen Izuku as a rival and kind of want to prove himself that he can be more with or without izu-

I am- I'm not sure how to word this. I am not good with words, but I think what I want to say that Izu and Kats kind of have a type when befriending others

Iida & Katsuki (Similarity)

Loud

Studios

Prideful

Not chill

Goal minded (I'm stupid maybe)

Rule binding (Kats is just very chaotic in responding to rules)

Both probably sleeps at 8 PM

I'm not sure anymore I think you can list it better than I do-

Help this is not even remotely a coherent thought, so please just ignore it if it doesn't make sense

Have Izu for your troubles!💞

bkdk is the only ship I ship, just- thoughts

Don’t worry, bkdk is constantly on my mind too, I get it.

I actually really love the way Izuku and Iida’s relationship parallels Katsuki and Kirishima’s and it makes me kinda sad that people stopped talking about them.

I wouldn’t say that they parallel in dynamic very much, but they parallel in a sense that Katsuki and Izuku are so obviously jealous of each others friends. Well… not jealous, but there’s definitely a feeling of, “I’m glad he found a friend who treats him the way he deserves to be treated, because I am in no place to be the one to give him that no matter how much I want to,” kind of mutual insecurity. And it’s made so blatantly obvious (even being confirmed in an interview) that I genuinely wonder what Horikoshi was thinking when he decided to do it. Like, what were his intentions with that? Outside of obvious yearning?

Like, I feel like Iida and Kirishima is who bkdk wishes the other could see them as. Kirishima has that same overly positive spirit and self sacrificial heroic attitude that Izuku has that Katsuki hates so much. The difference is, Izuku’s self sacrificial attitude isn’t healthy while Kirishima’s is, because Kirishima’s quirk is literally a shield which makes it nearly impossible for him to inflict injuries onto himself deliberately like Izuku does. Kirishima is Izuku without the fatal flaws that worries Katsuki so much. Now with Iida, he’s an organized goody two shoes with a tendency to let his emotions spill over in a scary/somewhat violent way, just like Katsuki. However, Iida is also missing Katsuki’s fatal flaws. Iida is stubborn but he’s able to let people into his life and he doesn’t have an explosive temper, nor does he have an extremely inflated ego. He has a similar social pressure that Katsuki had growing up with his family and other adults in his life pre-projecting him to be a great hero and having him set a standard for himself that he isn’t able to reach until realizes his weaknesses, which he’s able to do a lot faster than Katsuki was able to.

They don’t just parallel in their relationships, but they parallel narratively too fairly often. I touched on it a bit in this post [x], but I’ll explain it a little more since I find it fascinating.

Since Izuku views Kirishima as Katsuki’s ideal friend, and Katsuki views Iida as Deku’s ideal friend, they kind of act on it in a way that ended up setting up the whole narrative about hand holding in the story.

With this,

Being a clear call back to this:

(I also wanna point out that the memory of Ochako saying that “he’ll think it’s disgraceful to get rescued” being recalled in both of those chapters)

I feel like both “You’ve always managed to outpace me!!” and “I probably shouldn’t be the one…” are proof of that insecurity I mentioned earlier. They truly don’t believe that they’re the most important people to each other, and their mutual belief in that just kind of proves them wrong ironically. These two scenes is them indirectly extending their hand through someone else, because they think that someone else would do it better.

There’s way too much emphasis on them being scared to hold hands for it to be considered platonic, IM SORRY BUT IM NOT BUYING IT

I’m sorry if this wasn’t coherent, it’s literally 2am where I am…

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Tiny bit of Monster AU Brainrot-

Malleus calling human Yuu Child of Humans instead of Chile of Men

Human Yuu singing Human by Rag'nBone Man (I have had this idea for way too long)

Human Yuu just minding their business in gym class running laps, and sees Vargas running at them full speed in his monster form for the first time, scaring them so bad that they start haul assing to the woods near the field

Human Yuu starts gushing to Malleus about how cool he is, saying things like, "Your horns are so awesome and beautiful!" and "Your wings look so big! And your tail look so shiny and smooth too! I bet Vil could only dream about having a tail like yours!" (I just wanna shower him with my own endearing praise~)

I’d actually been debating for a while how Malleus would refer to Yuu as the last known human, though “Child of Humans” does sound fitting. /)Ò^Ô I think I'll keep it that way!

As for the song “Human” by Rag’n’Bone Man, I honestly hadn’t heard that song until now and it gives me some interesting ideas on how some monsters may have believed in the past that—according to mythology—most humans were the bad ones and “put the blame on” them for certain things happening the way they did. For the researchers to be looking towards Yuu for answers to things that happened centuries ago, or for those who grew up hating human mythology in general and blaming Yuu for these things…I can imagine it would cause a lot of stress and anxiety even for the calmest and most collected person. Ó^Ò

This could also segway into how the monsters would discover the human penchant to express their emotions in a way that also sends a message, and if someone were to catch wind of Yuu singing this song (or happen to stumble upon it like the Light Music Club did)? Things would likely start taking on a different tone as the monsters realize that Yuu is just as much an innocent who knows nothing of what happened in the past: only that they were alone in the world, and that—like the monsters themselves—humans can make mistakes too.

Of course, being able to share songs that hold a special meaning to Yuu is going to be a magical bonding experience! ÓvÒ/)

Omg, Yuu’s very first day in gym class would have been chaotic 🤣 Let’s see how that first day went down…>3>

Under a read more due to length!

///

FWEET!!!

“Alright, everyone, line up! You have one minute to stretch before we begin doing laps around the track.”

Yuu felt small compared to the much larger monster students around them, realizing that some towered nearly nine feet tall. ‘I’m going to get trampled,’ they thought nervously. ‘I’m in a strange world, forced to attend school, and I’m literally going to get trampled by giant humanoid monsters doing PE.’

“Hey, Yuu!” a familiar voice called, snapping them out of their thoughts as they turned to see Ace waving them over. “What are you doing in the middle?”

“Huh? I’m…running…I think?” Yuu replied, feeling self-conscious about the multiple sets of eyes now on them. Glancing at the multiple pairs of hooves and claws, they muttered, “And trying not to get trampled over…”

“Don’t worry, you won’t get trampled underfoot,” came Coach Vargas’ response as he appeared in front of them, gesturing with a large claw to the inner track ring. “Smaller students will start out on the inside and will work their way towards the middle with everyone else. Though seeing as you lack any tail or strong legs like the others, this will be a test for me to see how fast and strong you are as a human. Just keep running, and you’ll do fine. And if you fall behind, I’ll help you keep a good pace!”

Nearby Yuu could hear a couple of students snicker and whisper, “Humans must fall flat on their face all the time without a tail. Just look at those weird legs!”

Whether they meant for Yuu to hear them or not wasn’t clear, but before they could think of a retort, they jumped when the coach blew the whistle again. “Stretches are over—get into position!” he bellowed, Yuu immediately scurrying over to join the other smaller students. “On your mark…get set…GO!!”

FWEEEET!!

In an instant, most of the monster students took off, most galloping on all fours while others somehow kept pace on two legs before the rest of the students followed suit. Yuu did okay at first, keeping pace behind a large eared faun with violet hair easily enough. But by the time they came close to finishing the first lap they’d fallen far behind, forced to stick as close to the edge of the track as possible even as a literal stampede of students charged past them.

‘Just keep running,’ they thought, feeling their cheeks burn with embarrassment as the students that mocked them earlier ran past with cackles of amusement. ‘I just gotta keep running…’

Rrrrrrr….

‘Just keep running, just keep running, running, running,’ Yuu chanted in their mind, keeping their eyes on the student in front of them as a pacer as they finished their second lap. ‘What do we do? We run, run, ru-’

“Gah! Not again!” someone yelped, running past them like a scared rabbit. A moment later the student they were following glanced over his shoulder, his eyes growing wide in pure fear and panic as he too ran faster. What was going on…?

“Rrrrrr…rrrAAAWOOOH!”

Hearing the bellowing roar and the shredding of fabric behind them, Yuu’s head whipped around to see Coach Vargas’ frame grow larger, fur covering every inch of his body as his face pushed out to form a distinctly canine-like snout while his arms grew into massive, long clawed paws. They’d wondered what sort of bear-like monster the coach was, but now they realized that—like Professor Crewel and Professor Trein—he was a werebeast…a werebear.

Charging straight FOR THEM!?!?!

“Oh, Sugar Honey Iced Tea!!!!” Yuu screamed, flat out bolting the moment the transformed coach began to charge after them. They couldn’t let him bite them—they didn’t want to be a werebear!! “Shit shit shit shit SHIT!!! AAAAAAAA-!!!!”

Students that had passed by them before now squawked as Yuu passed them, Yuu’s shoes pounding against the compact rubber ground while their heart hammered in their chest. Blood thundering in their ears, they didn’t hear the others calling their name as they bolted off the track, running full speed into the forest. All they could hear was the earth-shaking steps of the massive werebear charging after them, his growls and roars urging them to run faster and faster until—

/Sometime later/

“Can someone please explain to me why the human is stuck in a tree?” Professor Trein asked, Lucius giving a low growl to match his master’s scowl.

“They climbed up the tree on their own! Honestly, I’ve never seen any student run or climb so fast during PE.”

Tilting his head back to look up into the tree, Crowley heaved a tired sigh as he spotted Yuu’s terrified face barely peeking over the large branch they’d wrapped themselves around. They hadn’t moved an inch since he arrived, their eyes locked onto the coach with a ‘thousand-yard stare’ and knuckles turning white. “Did you even warn them of your particular training style?” the headmaster asked, though he had a feeling he knew the answer.

“I told them that if they fell behind, I would help them keep their pace,” came the response. “They’ve exceeded my initial expectations and even surpassed a few of their fellow runners!”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure it was an impressive sight to see, and I admire your dedication to ensuring students get the most out of their exercise. That, however, doesn’t explain how we’re supposed to get what is quite literally the last living fragile human down from the tree before they get hurt.”

“Ah…right. Don’t worry, I’ll get them down! It’s been a while since I last pulled a tree out by the roots. Maybe I can shake them out?”

“Fragile, Ashton! Fragile!” Crewel growled out.

In the end, the staff somehow managed to get Yuu safely down on the ground. It took Crewel’s reassurances that—no—Coach Vargas doesn’t bite the students during his “encouragement runs” and that—no—it is highly unlikely that Yuu would even become a werebeast if they had been bitten by accident. Needless to say, Yuu was given a pass from Vargas running behind them in his werebear form, and he made a bit more of an effort to keep pace with them in his normal humanoid form to encourage them.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that the rest of the students were safe if he caught them falling behind!

///

Pfft…yeah, it went about as well as you’d expect when being chased by a bear. 😂 At least now they know that they can outrun him, and the other monster students got to witness the magic of human adrenaline in action! 0v0

Malleus interacting with Yuu…I can imagine that—as a dragon monster—he would sympathize with Yuu’s situation as much as Vil in how few both their species were. Perhaps that’s what first drew him to interact with them the first night he realized that Ramshackle was no longer an empty tomb—but rather, a sanctuary to protect something precious.

And precious they were, as with each interaction he had with them, the more he grew fond of Yuu’s strange human ways. Their admiration for him was tempered by pure, innocent curiosity as they speak. Each question they ask, he obliges with an amused smile or allows them a chance to touch his wings and horns. Each praise they sang to him filled him with warmth, freely allowing their hands to glide over the feathers of his wings or brush against the scales of his tail.

His mirth and amusement grew when they began to compare his beauty with Vil’s own, seeing their eyes light up with each new discovery or flicker of power he showed them. He may have grown used to hearing Sebek’s praise, though there was something endearing hearing a fabled human compliment him as though he were the only dragon fae monster in the world…and perhaps he was.

At least in that regard, he would be content to share this companionship with his Child of Humans.

[onyxino]

Happy birthday, Aizen!

For Aizen's birthday here is some headcanons. Some SFW but its mostly just filth.

CW: Creampie. Oral F receiving. AFAB reader x Aizen. Dom/Sub dynamics used. Aizen is a whole warning himself. Slightly creepy and toxic Aizen. Panty sniffing and stealing. Cum play. Praise. Talk of sexual orientation. MDNI!!

Proof read like 3 times but my eyes fail me quite a bit

WC:1200

Safe For Work

I wholeheartedly believe that Sosuke is 100% capable of love. He just wouldn’t be able to recognize the emotion at first and would have a really big internal conflict regarding the matter. I think initially he would have the issue of not being able to tell the difference between obsession and love. Once he's finally figured out what he's feeling he’s now faced with the new issue of showing it because saying it is absolutely out of the question.

To expand further on my last headcanon, let's talk about Sosuke’s love languages! He has two forms of love language.

First would be gift giving. I think Sosuke would be very big into giving you anything you wanted as a sign of love. He believes you deserve nothing but the best so why not give it to you! You eye something at the mall for a little too long? Congrats, it’s yours now! Don’t even try to protest it belongs to you now so just take it. You do deserve the best after all.

Second form of Sosuke’s love language would most definitely have to be words of praise and affirmations. This man may have the hardest time saying those 3 big words but he will praise you from dusk to dawn.

“You’re doing just splendid, Dear. I’m quite pleased with your progress.” He says as he tucks a damp piece of hair behind your sweaty ear. This new training regiment he has you on is a killer but his words fuel you to keep going.

I plan to expand more on this in the NSFW portion! 

I definitely believe that Aizen would not use Kyoka Suigetsu on you. I can only see him using it on you in an event where it may be needed to protect you or prevent you from risking your own life if it came down to it. 

This man is the definition of LOYAL. Do not fret this man will not cheat. You’ll actually have the issue of him not leaving your side. In the world of the living, you want his phone? It's yours,  I mean you already know the password so just ask for it and he’ll hand it over. He will be a little upset that you don’t trust him but he understands you’ve probably been hurt before but believe me he will be asking for your phone in return.

I know a lot of these have been very wholesome but don’t get me wrong this is Sosuke AIzen we are talking about. He can and will be T O X I C. He has jealousy issues, make sure you aren’t talking to the pesky candy shop owner for too long or else you’ll be in trouble.

I believe he has the tendency to stalk as well. Trust me that man could tell you EXACTLY where you were at 12:30pm on July,3rd,2023. Even if you don’t remember he does.

Not Safe For Work

Sosuke Aizen is uncut. Plain and simple.

I headcanon him to be pansexual. I believe Sosuke has had experience with men, women and non-binary/androgynous people as well. I also do believe while he is pansexual and has had experience with all genders that he does have a preference. I can really see him being into Non-binary/Androgynous AFAB people. Honestly though if he likes you, he likes you and it doesn’t matter what kind of genitalia you have. I also believe that at one point in time even for a small amount of time he had a thing for Shinji Hirako (or maybe that's too self indulgent and I just want them to hate fuck.) 

While I do say he has had experience with people of all genders, I do not believe that Sosuke Aizen sleeps around. While being experienced he’s only had a few past partners for a couple of reasons. First being that he just doesn’t have time for such conquests due to being too busy with his plan for being the one at the top and all. Second being that Aizen only sleeps with people that he has a fondness for and for him it takes a long time to build up that trust. Being that naked and vulnerable around someone he barely knows just does not interest him at all. 

Sosuke is a dom at heart but he wouldn't mind (he actually really craves) soft and tender sex without the use of dom/sub dynamic. 

Sosuke has a huge thing for cum play. He loves the idea of covering you in his cum, it’s some sort of primal way for him to mark you as his. He also loves stuffing you full, creampie after creampie and then seeing it spill out of you drives him absolutely mad. Him knowing that you're so full of his cum that it's ruining your underwear and dribbling down your thighs as you go about your daily tasks gets him off.

To expand further on this it’s not just his cum he’s obsessed with it’s yours too. He loves when you squirt on his face as he’s eating you out, it does his ego wonders and on top of it all you taste like heaven to him. He is also absolutely in love with the sight of you creaming on cock, seeing that white ring of cum appear at the base of dick is just another thing that gets him off and feeds his already obese ego.

Sosuke Aizen love love loves to talk and that doesn’t change during sex either. He is very very vocal. He is the kind of man to talk you through it. He loves to deliver praise (In the most condescending way possible) as much he loves to degrade you.

“C’mon now, you can take it.” He coos in an almost praising yet degrading way as he cups your cheek in his soft yet calloused hand.

He has you on your back, tears staining your rosy cheeks. He’s halfway buried in you, if people saw you right now they’d think this was your first time taking his cock. Oh man, that couldn't be further from the truth, you swear every time up and down it will never fit. Every time you are proved wrong.

He pushes himself into you a little more, this earns him a whine that tumbles from your lips as you feel his girth stretch you out.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well. Now be good and take the rest of me, yeah? I know you can.” He says leaning down to bury his face into your neck. Then snapping his hips forward in one switch motion he’s sheathing himself completely inside of you. 

A strangled moan tears itself from your throat as you adjust to him. You take it now and you take it every time because Sosuke wouldn’t dare speak words to you that he knew to be falsehoods.

Sosuke is a panty sniffer/stealer. If you think you’re leaving your encounter with him with your underwear you’d be so wrong. It’s a trophy to him, a token of your memory for him as he sits on the edge of his bed stroking his length later that night after you’ve left. Wadded up fabric clutched in his hand pressing against his nose as he breathes deeply.

Bonus: He is definitely guilty of cumming in your underwear and forcing you to wear them all day.

Thanks for reading, I don't write often but i sure enjoy sharing when I do!

Tag list: @stygianoir @muzansfangs

[bachelor4choice]

Fans of Arcane! I'm here to bring theories!!!!

P.S.: Please, no spoilers. Especially regarding any leaks. Making theories is a big part of what makes a show fun for fans, so don’t ruin that. Good? Good.

Recently, I saw here on Tumblr a series of images about how the acts will be divided in this second season, and that gave me some clues about how Vi’s arc might unfold. Since they're focusing a lot on her, it's the "easiest" to deduce, but I have some guesses about other characters as well.

The image (not sure if it's official ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯) is this one:

HERE WE GO!

Act 1: It would pick up immediately after the final events of the first season. Vi immediately finds herself "forced" to join Caitlyn and the Enforcers. It’s a natural progression for the character, considering what happened. Vi values herself as someone who protects those she loves. She always has been this way, so when she feels like she failed Jinx, she moves on to protect Cait. I believe, for her, it’s also a way to protect Zaun, which must fall into chaos with the power vacuum left by Silco. In this act we’d see Vi and Caitlyn grow even closer, but with so many close calls that we would die a little, because neither of them is exactly what the other needs. Both Caitlyn and Vi, in the inside, are actualy drifting away from what they initially liked in each other. Yes, it’s going to be quite painful to watch, but hey! It’s going to get worse :)

I believe the end of this act will be a confrontation between Jinx and Vi. And here, my friends, we see the downfall, because I still believe Vi won’t be able to finish off Jinx, and this will be a double failure in Vi’s "protector" nature. This will lead her to distance herself from Cait and the Enforcers, but by this point, Vi has nowhere to return to, because Zaun no longer accepts her. She has become a traitor, remember? Enter Dark Vi! At the end of this act, there will be ANOTHER breakup between Vi and Cait (without them even having started dating yet! These lesbians) and this will also push Cait to take more drastic actions, alongside Mel’s mother.

Act 2: It would start with Vi at her lowest point (I’m not looking at her arms, you are!) I believe this is also when Jinx becomes a symbol of resistance, as a response to the increasing pressure applied by Caitlyn and Medarda. As things get politically terrible, Vi continues to lose her sense of self. That’s why she drinks so much and why the ex-enforcer takes her to those underground fights. She keeps hallucinating about Caitlyn because, again, she feels like she’s failed. She couldn’t help Caitlyn because she couldn’t stop protecting Jinx. For her, this whole situation is lose-lose. Seeing Caitlyn drift further from who she truly is also deeply affects Vi.

I’ve always admired Caitlyn’s character for her rationality and compassion. She’s smart, determined, focused, but sweet (like a Cupcake). Seeing someone you care about lose that side of themselves because of your own sister… Yeah, I’d be drinking too. This would explain why Vi hallucinates about the Caitlyn from the first season. At the same time, with Jinx being exalted as a symbol, Vi sees exactly what she’s lost: the sister who was supposed to grow up and help Zaun. Everyone viewing Jinx this way, when she definitely ISN’T like that anymore, is like rubbing salt in the wound.

I believe Vi’s downfall will take up an entire episode. Two things could happen to end Dark Vi. Jinx, as we see her watching the fights and even betting on Vi. (Same Symbol)

Yep, in the new images, Vi isn’t hallucinating about Jinx, only about Cait. Jinx is going to watch Vi spiraling and I think she’s going to HATE it. I do believe Jinx has changed, but I think she still prefers to see Vi distant but doing okay, rather than close and falling apart. I think this would be an interesting trait for Jinx. Now, throwing in a wild guess: I think Jinx herself is going to seek out Caitlyn. Cait, by the way, is likely spiraling too, but unlike Vi, she has other ways to self-destruct (work).

So, my theory for the end of Act 2 is that Jinx is going to show Cait the state Vi’s in and say, “Look at this disaster lesbian!” This will lead to a really sweet moment where Cait finally reconnects with her compassionate side—caring about others' pain, not just her own (get ready to cry here. If this really happens, I want ALL of it! From tending to Vi’s wounds and alcoholism to a heart-wrenching confession in the middle).

HOWEVER, I don’t think Cait’s return will be the only catalyst. Here’s where the battle with Warwick comes in! Wouldn’t it be tragic if Vander, once again, is responsible for making Vi rediscover her value as the protector of those she loves? Because I think that’s exactly what’s going to happen—fighting this version of Vander will be the final nail in the coffin for Dark Vi. Oh, Vander, helping Vi even now.

Act 3: We’ll finally have Vi and Cait on the same page (you know that sex scene? Probably here, and I think it’s going to lean more towards sweet than sexy. Something tasteful, definitely).

Vi will be an Enforcer, but not to hunt Jinx—rather, to help Zaun and protect everyone, including Piltover, from Empress Medarda’s grip. After all, with Cait no longer obsessed with taking down Jinx, Medarda’s influence over Caitlyn will come to an end. The only leverage Medarda has over Cait is her anger, and when that’s no longer in play, Cait’s rational side kicks back in. She’ll realize that for Medarda, it was never about justice—it was about Hextech. This realization will be what unites everyone: Zaun and Piltover will come together, fighting against Medarda.

Oil and Walter.

As for Cait, there are definitely some missing pieces. Just as Vi has Warwick, Cait is going to have something beyond Jinx/Vi. But since there’s so little information about the other characters, it’s hard to say who. There’s bound to be something more than just the power of love. What’s important is that during the third act, we’ll already have Cait and Vi as Piltover’s Finest! In those perfect black uniforms.

Well, that's basically it! See you in November, when Arcane becomes my entire personality!

[aclowntiny]

Hiiii!!! First I wanna say how much I really like your work! Also, I stumbled upon our Seventeen and Enhypen as Hogwarts students, but saw you didn’t have it for Stray Kids 😭 I know they’ve mentioned in 2019 what house they think they are, but you seem to have a much better understanding of the houses and I’m very curious to see what you would think their houses would be.

I was wondering if I could request a similar sort of headcannon for them 🥹 Thank you!

Heck yeah! Can't believe I didn't do this sooner tbh but I love this so here we are 😌 I agree, not necessarily that I'm the best at the job, lol, but that people just go for very generic ideas of the houses (Gryffindor is cool, Slytherin is evil, Hufflepuff is nice/silly, Ravenclaw is smart) rather than the true reflection of where they'd be hehe! Like Ravenclaw is actually also known for being artistic and eccentric, Slytherin for strong determination, Hufflepuff for acceptance and breaking tradition, Gryffindor for being the other self-sacrificing house. So sometimes people just say "I'm a Gryffindor because I'm a good guy!!!" anyway rant over here's the actual content we want🤣

🏰 Stray Kids as Hogwarts Students🔮

Bang Chan

☆ Some kids got sorted instantly, but with one Christopher Bang the Hat took longer. Muttered to itself a lot as it waffled between his qualities, dubbing him hardworking and courageous and ambitious and loving. He couldn't help but flush under the hat's words, almost not hearing when its voice finally bellowed "Gryffindor!”

☆ Being Pure-Blood was only ever a phrase on a family tree for Chris. Who one’s ancestors were, what they looked like, or how much money they had said nothing for their value- only their choices and character did that.

☆ It’s only a formal class for one year, but he adores Flying. The feeling of freedom and getting to have some time outside is heaven for him. Defense Against the Dark Arts is another favorite for the similar reason of being able to get active and challenge himself, even literally facing his fears.

☆ Astronomy is very cool to him, but he finds having to fill in the same charts week after week a bit repetitive and not the best use of his time, frankly.

☆ Gryffindor’s Quidditch captain! He plays Keeper, working with great patience and synergy with the rest of the team to keep the goals clear.

☆ Blessed is the only word Chris can think of when he realizes how many happy memories he can pull from- not everyone can say that. As the word comes to mind, his wand lights up, producing a shining silver wolf standing majestically, protectively, before him.

Lee Know

☆ "You're an interesting one," came the Hat's comment upon touching Minho's head, "you've certainly got your priorities...whatever those are. A unique mind for sure. Better be Ravenclaw!" Some of Minho's friends had teased him as a Slytherin, so he was a bit surprised. Not that he would let his house define him entirely.

☆ He hates the reputation and unnecessary pressure that comes with being a Pure-Blood. It’s stupid and not worth debating in Minho’s mind. The only benefit is just the resources and opportunities he might get, and it’s tempting to turn those down on principle. Money and status don’t matter to him at all and there’s a part of him that wants to ‘sully the bloodline’ just for the hell of it! Luckily his parents don’t care either.

☆ Potions whiz. One of the few who actually get it and enjoy the calm, precise art and its beautiful results and wants to go N.E.W.T. with it. He’s also great at Care of Magical Creatures, naturally focused on the well-being of animals and other living things over his own excitement or whims.

☆ Having a fear of heights, Flying is not it for him. No thanks. He passes, but barely, and in his mind it’s not a skill he plans to use.

☆ Naturally, Minho opts out of Quidditch signups, but instead joins the Gobstones club because he thinks spraying the losers with stone juice is funny. Also gets invited to the Slug Club for his Potions skills and influence.

☆ No one is surprised when Minho closes his eyes, focuses, and boom! Produces a little glowing cat bursting from his wand with a few swipes of its paw to groom its nonexistent striped fur.

Changbin

☆ "Quite a softie underneath it all, eh?" Beneath the weight of the tattered Hat, Changbin strikes a bit of a pose. "Got a lot of ambition, but you've also got a lot of...that. Hmmm..." The Hat muses for a few more moments. "At the end of the day, this one’s a Slytherin!” Pride flows through Changbin’s veins- he doesn’t care for the reputation of producing dark wizards, the potential snobbery. All he cares about is showing his ambition to be the best if he puts his mind to it.

☆ He’s a Half-Blood, but both of his parents are wizards so his familiarity is much more with the Wizarding World. He wants to understand Muggles better to connect with them, too, as well as Muggleborns.

☆ Taking Muggle Studies helps with this and learning about another culture is quite fascinating to him- technology especially is amazing, like that’s what people do instead of magic? Wires of captured lightning? Sounds pretty magical to Changbin. He gets into tinkering with technology because of this. Another class he enjoys is Defense Against the Dark Arts. Changbin loves feeling ready to protect himself and others, so that’s the class he spends the most time practicing and taking notes in. He always thinks of his friends and his sister as he does so.

☆ History of Magic is boring, though, Changbin wants to cast some spells! At the end of the day, where certain spells come from don’t matter to him as long as he can use them. However, the idea of showing up in a ‘great wizards’ history highlight one day is appealing to him…

☆ His strength comes in handy serving as one of Slytherin’s two Beaters. The other teams are lowkey afraid of the Bludgers Changbin sends their way because they know how hard he hits!

☆ Bets are flying on what his Patronus animal would be, a pig or a rabbit. Pig is the most popular choice, mostly in jest, but shushing them all Changbin focuses all the great joy he’s expressing…and out leaps a rabbit! Not just any rabbit, though, but the massive, fluffy form of a Flemish giant rabbit that has everyone laughing and Changbin grinning, reaching out to it.

Hyunjin

☆ Nearly the second the Sorting Hat rests atop his head, it's shouting 'Ravenclaw!' Hyunjin himself can't be surprised, really, not when he's heard talk of the great artists in that house. In fact, pride glows in his chest as he joins his table that the Hat could see that in him.

☆ The Hwangs are an old wizarding family. Hyunjin has a lot of opportunities because of this, but fights against the idea that he could be any better than anyone else because of a name. Rather, he is often seen lifting up Muggleborn classmates and highlighting struggled of other magical people.

☆ Ancient Runes comes naturally to Hyunjin, something about his eye for detail, symbols, and decoding. Language is an area of interest for him so that class is like a beautiful puzzle. Astronomy grants Hyunjin so much art inspiration as well as time to relax and appreciate the gifts of nature and their inherent magic.

☆ There's no one class he hates, but like a lot of students Hyunjin has a harder time focusing on all the information getting dumped on him in History of Magic.

☆ Hyunjin’s extracurriculars include the Muggle Art club where he hones his painting skills and the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, where he plays as the team’s Seeker.

☆ Expectations fly as everyone wonders what the next Hwang’s Patronus will be. Will he get a stag, the majestic animal associated with famous wizards? An eagle, symbolizing his house? Not at all, in fact what Hyunjin summons is a beautiful, delicate silver dove that lights upon his shoulder.

Han

☆ “Don’t be so shy, kid, you’ve got heart.” “Really? Thanks bro.” “Yes, that’s what I’m talking about,” the Hat chuckles, “this one’s a Hufflepuff!” Jisung’s eyes go wide. He wasn’t expecting to get Hufflepuff, but if the hat says so, well, who is he to fight it? It’s nice getting the kindest house, too- maybe he’ll make a lot of friends.

☆ As a Half-Blood, the heavy weight of prejudice never really fell on Jisung. Half-Bloods tended to fall between the cracks as having already been sullied, just middle ground. As he witnesses bullying more and more, though, his passion grows to somehow help others and remind people that nobody can help who their ancestors married.

☆ Charms are quick, snappy, spur-of-the-moment but effective in a pinch, and Jisung likes that. It's fun and he can cast charms as quickly as he cracks a joke or comeback! Ancient Runes brings him a lot of inspiration from history and other languages that he loves to bring to his songwriting.

☆ Flying, thank goodness, isn't enforced every year! It scares him, frankly, and he'd much rather stay on the ground where he belongs.

☆ Because flying isn’t his favorite, no way in hell is he doing it with giant leather and metal things trying to smash him. Nope. However he’ll happily watch and commentate, hence him taking the mic and giving very entertaining descriptions of everything that happens. He’s also in the Frog Choir, always trying to get them to perform one of his compositions.

☆ Jokes around that he’s going to get a massive Patronus animal like a bear or a lion, but once he sees the embodiment of his joy skipping from his wand as a little quokka, he can’t even be embarrassed, just smile!

Felix

☆ "Well, you're just a delight, aren't you?" Felix couldn't tell if the Hat was being sarcastic, but still he chose to respond in kind. "I try!" At that, the Sorting Hat chuckled. "Yes, this one's a Hufflepuff for sure!" His sister had told him as much, but Felix couldn't complain- he liked the idea of being a Hufflepuff!

☆ Felix is a Muggleborn, so he takes in every step of starting school with wonder…though it is a bit overwhelming feeling like everyone’s speaking another language sometimes. But then again, magic candy! Brewing potions!

☆ Absolute wonder at Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology. Felix is so gentle and good with every living thing, they practically request he be the one to handle them and that makes his heart burst with joy and honor! He also loves Potions, thinking the idea is so classic and cool, plus despite what most students say it’s kind of relaxing to him.

☆ Transfiguration dropped lower on his list when they started using living subjects. Sure, the idea that anyone and anything can grow and change and exist in many forms is really inspiring, but those poor mice and birds!

☆ Slug Club inductee part two! Even though he’s a Muggleborn with no direct influence, Felix is such a good student and avid potioneer that he’s a shoo-in. He also plays Quidditch as Hufflepuff’s Seeker.

☆ Felix isn’t sure what animal he’ll get, but he certainly isn’t expecting multiple! The entire class is shocked when a whole brood of chicks tumbles forth from his wand, eliciting shock and charmed coos alike.

Seungmin

☆ "This one's a bit of a surprise now," the Hat commented upon being set atop Seungmin's head. Seungmin couldn't help wondering what that meant and if it was bad, how to prove the Hat wrong. "No, lad, all you just did was prove my point. Looks can be deceiving, after all. Slytherin!" He wasn't sure what he expected, but that might not have been it. Sort of made sense, though- he could have fun with that!

☆ He can’t help wondering if the Hat chose as it did because he’s a Pure-Blood, taking Salazar’s old favors into account. Then again, he did just throw a cheating Gryffindor under the bus in class…

☆ Thinking logically is no trouble for Seungmin, so Arithmancy isn’t a bad choice for him. Connecting relationships between numbers and their power just makes sense to him- eight is his lucky number, after all. He also frequents the Potions dungeon, but that’s mostly just to brew the photo solution that grants his personal art projects motion!

☆ Defense Against the Dark Arts is a fun and active class, but it's boisterous and people take the duels too far sometimes.

☆ Frankly, he didn’t have time to join the Quidditch team due to his other extracurriculars, being an avid Frog Choir singer and the Hogwarts paper’s photographer.

☆ Everyone is sure the student everyone sees as a puppy will get a dog for his Patronus. Imagine their surprise when he casts a tanuki! Cute and cunning, no one can deny it matches him perfectly in the end.

I.N

☆ He forgot the Hat could read his thoughts. “So you want a house where you can show your talents and look out for people, huh?” Flushing, Jeongin just nods with a faint, bashful smile. “Well, better be Gryffindor, then!” He’s surprised, thinking maybe he’d have gotten Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff- he isn’t particularly brave, is he? “Trust me, kid, you’ll find your way,” the Hat promises, and do its eyelike folds wink?

☆ As a Half-Blood, he has knowledge of the Wizarding World, but also life outside of magic. Having one Muggle parent means one person getting yanked into the world of wonder, after all! Jeongin is proud to understand both sides of his world and guide his friends on how Muggles really live.

☆ Details don’t escape Jeongin, so he loves drawing star charts for Astronomy. Transfiguration is another favorite of his for similar reasons: he enjoys the focus, the idea that he can reshape objects into something greater or something new. It feels symbolic, poetic.

☆ Potions stresses him out because it's so easy to burn things or measure wrong; even if little details usually fascinate him, he can be a bit clumsy with the required finesse.

☆ Joins the wizard chess club, art club, and plays Quidditch- what can’t our baby bread do? Jeongin becomes Gryffindor’s Seeker, one especially known for turning the tides of the game for his team completely!

☆ He can barely contain his excitement that day in Defense Against the Dark Arts when it comes time to cast Patronus charms! He wonders if his animal will look like him and he certainly gets his wish when a charming little desert fox pops forth.

[oddlittlestories]

Thinking about mental health / self help resources and Wilson

So like, a lot of mental health resources will *say* the healthy way of thinking.

And I’m thinking specifically about Wilson’s inability to prioritize himself. To HAVE wants and express needs. To feel like he has a right to them.

So I’ve heard stuff like, “don’t prioritize others to the point of burnout. It’s not selfish to take care of yourself. You can’t help others if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

And hearing that might work for some people. But I’ve never been able to internalize things framed this way, and I don’t think it would help Wilson either.

Where’s the path from unhealthy -> healthy?

First off, I think Wilson has a bunch of secondary beliefs to prop this up that he would need to address before believing any of it. Assuming you could *get at* those beliefs, by the way, the man is repression wrapped in misdirection wrapped in denial so potent you could call it a religion.

But if you *could*

For example, I think he’d say that he CAN take care of others without taking care of himself. That he’s never needed to meet his needs to meet other people’s needs before. He saves lives. He cares for his friends. He’s not even burned out! [he’s just invisible. erased by himself. so lost in the process of giving he struggles to remember his own identity]

He DEFINITELY struggles with Being Socially Inappropriate. There are Rules, to him, ways people Act In Society. Things you can live up to or fail to live up to. And he’s terrified of judgement. Not even, I think, the judgment of one person but just Social Judgment in general. With the waterbed, talking with House, he first says, “most adults don’t go through life like you do, indulging their every whim.” But Wilson doesn’t indulge ANY of his whims. And note - there’s a Rule here. An Expectation. And then he says, “Amber will think it’s stupid.”

House, of course, has the best possible comeback. Because telling him it’s not stupid or reassuring in other ways - that’s not gonna work. “It IS stupid. Live the dream, Wilson.” [so what? Isn’t it stupider to avoid something harmless just because it’s stupid?]

And Amber reaffirms that she’s glad he got it even though he hated it.

And Wilson needed the help of TWO PEOPLE to do this. Amber telling him to get what he wanted. House helping him test the waters of how much Wilson could trust her. Amber reaffirming her boundaries around HIM having boundaries. House poking Wilson into admitting and going for what he really wanted. And Amber reaffirming his ability to say no - on purpose - and his choice to get it and learn something about himself.

I think if Wilson were to learn to accept help from people, it might work if he started from a “letting people help you is good for THEM” mindset.

But I’m also thinking about a post the other day I saw about rping and bleed. And how bleed can go both ways. It includes a video about Brennan Lee Mulligan and his players. They point out that his character thinks showing how helpful he can be to the party solidified their friendship. But Mulligan didn’t mean for that to be a characteristic for them to analyze - he frames it like, well isn’t that true? And realizes it’s a belief that not everyone shares.

Anyways the tldr of this is that I ALSO think DND would help Wilson. You could bully him into joining because you need another player. He’d probably do something super independent like let his character die bc he didn’t want to ask for healing. And then they’d have to lug his corpse around while finding a resurrection spell and be like *ask for help next time, this is way more inconvenient*

Alternatively, I think you could point out that he can’t save every person in the world. He doesn’t have time to treat every cancer patient. He doesn’t have time to be an expert in everything. I think he might be crushed thinking about all this, btw, I think the man carries a lot of guilt. But then I think you tell him - do you want YOURSELF to be one of the people you save? Bc only you get to save yourself.

Anywho this is long and rambling and I might delete later, but - ✨Wilson thoughts✨

[upsidedownwithsteve]

hi, here’s me saying it with my chest!! the drama surrounding autumn was six months ago and you continue to make snide comments about ‘deactivated’ users sending hate like you genuinely believe that she’s stuck around to what? send you hate asks? and nothing else? what an incredible self-absorbed implication that is. either speak with your chest and accuse her outright or stop dragging her name through the dirt because you have some childish vendetta with zero proof. 

it’s incredibly fucking privileged to be able to remain ‘neutral’ on an issue such as genocide- whilst on your laptop, with free time to be online, you know, not being bombed to death. you write almost majority of your content for stranger things. if you’ve been paying any attention, there are several loud and proud zionists contributing to that show and by remaining neutral, you take their side. true, you don’t have to post about palestine - but it’s very telling when you make a post about how you shouldn’t have to post about palestine. again, didn’t realise it was so difficult to condemn a genocide. 

Thank you for finally talking without the security of an anonymous box.

I’ve made one comment recently about “deactivated blogs” and please let it be known, there was more than one. my thoughts on who these blogs were (multiple) were said at the time, like you said, 6 months ago. if these blogs wish to attack me via an anonymous button, whilst bringing my unborn child into it, why should I give them the respect of putting their name on my blog? There are lots of people who are aware of who these blogs are and a lot of people who share the same views as I do.

I’ve never once said I’m “neutral” and I’ve spoken out about Noah and his actions before. I believe you also write for stranger things so I’m unsure what your point is. However, to me, you’re a stranger online, just like I am to you. You do not know what I do in my spare time, you do not know what charities and organisations I support, you do not know what I choose to do with my business, you do not know anything about me or my life. Speaking, or not speaking, online about things does not reflect on someone’s real life values and choices.

If you’re so unbelievably bothered by my silence - to the point of sending anonymous messages to me - then please, let me tell you my view.

I support Palestine. I do not believe this is a war. What is happening is a genocide. I support these views and beliefs through my own life decisions and through the ways I can use my business.

You do not know what else I have going on outside of the internet, away from this blog, above and beyond being five months pregnant. You do not know why I choose to use this blog as an escape from real life. You do not know what other issues, stresses or challenges I have in real life. You do not get to condemn and judge myself or others on the choices they make simply because they aren’t doing the same as you.

[tokkiiecloud]

hi it’s me again lol ! responding to ur post u didn’t reply slow dw lol u actually replied fast at least for me lol 😭 and in my opinion, i don’t think you were romanticizing sh at all, i was wondering if you could do the same prompt with levi and satan and maybe another character of your choosing? ^^

Hey hey again!! I’m happy it doesn’t feel like i romanticised sh! This will maybe be the last one, since it kinda feels like I’m milking SH for likes and attention- but if it is a request then I’ll think about it! Anyways let’s get into it

Characters : Leviathan ; Satan and Foras

Tw/Cw : Self harm mentions and blood.

Satan :

The moment he found out about your SH..he felt angry

Angry at himself to not be able to help you

He could only think about the blood going down your arm which made his sleep even more horrible than before

He hugs you and buries his head into your shoulder

He knows he’s not the one who made you feel like this but he can’t help but feel extremely guilty

He tried his best to always bandage you

And always kisses your cheek and shows his affection to make you feel loved

Like you did after finding out he had depression

You both are each other’s comfort

You make him feel better when he’s having a depressive episode

And he takes cares of you when you SH because you needed to calm down…

He takes it very seriously after all he knows what that feels like

Leviathan:

Just like all the others, the discovery was…shocking and hurtful.

He wanted to make you feel better but he’s not the most open about his feelings so why would you open up to him?

But, he does small gestures to reassure you and make you feel comfortable about talking to him about how you feel.

For exemple kissing you’re cheek gently when you cry, always there when you have a moment when you’re so close to relapsing

He stops you every time he can.

He feels horrible when he sees you hurt, that’s the first time he saw himself in someone else

He promises himself to only bring you happiness even though he is quite difficult and the literal sin of envy himself

After all, he hates seeing you..like this not your usual cheerful self.

He’ll protect you from whatever could hurt you. Even god. Even the other devils

After that promise he sends foras almost every single day to watch over you. He gets extremely worried.

Foras:

He was on a mission to watch over you when he saw you hurting yourself

He couldn’t just watch from the sidelines and revealed himself as he ran to you to drop the sharp object tainted with your blood.

He looks at you, shocked to see him appearing out of thin air.

After that whole ordeal, he always checks on you whether it is an order from Leviathan or just his own free will.

He has specific time he knows you could potentially hurt yourself and always goes to check

He cares for you and loves you a lot.

Leaving encouraging and supportive notes everywhere you can see them

He just wants you to get better

And will fight every thing that hurt you.

Just like his king he also made a promise to himself

To destroy everything that could possibly hurt you or that has hurt you.

Ah honestly I feel better just thinking about them acting like this it always feels nice having someone who cares

Anyways this is the end I know that I repeat it a lot but , if you are struggling with sh you should go talk to a professional able to help you it is hard to stop this addiction, I want everyone that is struggling through it know that they are loved and appreciated and that someone believes in them to overcome this addiction and are able to go on the path of recovery!

Love you all have a nice day<3

[heavenangelly]

Hi, I wanted to ask this because I’ve had this doubt for a while and I feel like to some extent it’s getting in the way with my manifestations because of the contradictions it represents and I want an external opinion, so for example recently this youtuber from my country is being criticized for saying a bunch of nonsense conservative stuff and people are also making fun of him because he said that he’s white and red haired/blond but he’s just tanned, and when you look at him you can realize it clearly isn’t the case, you can tell by looking at him he’s brown and not even light skinned, and he’s been saying this for a while which makes me wonder if he’s so sure of himself, if he truly believes his assumption why hasn’t it manifested?, and he’s not the only example of that, because let’s say even if he didn’t truly believed what he was saying, there’s people just like him who genuinely believe they’re white when they aren’t, or that they’re skinny when they aren’t and they’ve been thinking that for quite a long time, they’ve been persisting in that assumption and they’re convinced that it’s true yet it’s not showing up and they just appear as delusional to everyone, and letting those cases aside, I’m at college mastering in psychology which has led me to get to know people during my practices that as a symptom of their mental illness they experience delusions, and they’re very sure of their delusions, they’re convinced that they’re real, no matter how much people might tell them they’re not they firmly persist in their assumption, they don’t even hesitate yet why isn’t it showing up?, why it hasn’t been reflected in the 3D even if they’ve doubtless persisted in that assumption for months or years?, and at some point I was just like yk fuck them they’re them and I am me so I have my desired already and the 3D needs to confirm but it’s still something that bothers me because if it’s a law and those people have been doing the “formula” for the law to work in their favor why isn’t ir working?, and it’s not about what their delusions consist of because you can manifest anything, not either due to them not holding the intention to manifest what they’re being delusional about because they don’t even view it as manifesting they already view it as it was theirs which is essentially what loa is about yet why isn’t it reflecting?, it’s a doubt that I’ve had for idk the seven years or so that I’ve known loa and manifestation for, and I haven’t found any actual answer to it, maybe because I haven’t thought about it for that long because I didn’t wanted to overthink too much, but now that I’ve changed some assumptions that I had in order to improve my self concept it’s something that has been bothering me again because it actively contradicts a lot of loa stuff that’s constantly being preached over and over and basic loa principles and I’ve debunked my other doubts with no problem before but I can’t find an explanation for that one and tbh it even makes me feel scared like why isn’t loa working for them if they’re doing everything right?, what if it doesn’t work for me even if I do everything right? and I've never asked anything to bloggers because I thought I could just figure my own things out and there wasn’t need for any guidance but I hate that it’s just making me doubt more and kinda ruining the self concept work I’ve been doing, also I haven’t seen any blogger ever talk about this ever

I’m super proud of you for being able to answer ur own questions!! And to answer you, it’s because they assume in the 3d. They haven’t changed themselves and their identity, so they trick their brain and delude themselves into believing that they are different. They’re hyper dependent on the physical world changing to prove to themselves that they are different, instead of an inner change. Anything shown in the physical world could be a sign to them. They know deep down they aren’t like that so they make up for it by telling everyone they are their ideal, and trying to prove it to people instead of just knowing. They could also be putting up a false personality where when they’re filming or they’re around people, they act like that in the moment but when they get home they cry bc they’re not like that, they just want to be like that. And most of them don’t even know about the law, so they’re just 3d based.

I hope this answered your question! If not, feel free to ask another <3

[mp3chan]

1:47am [F]

plz reblog if you enjoy it!

pairing: bangchan x (chubby) gn!reader

word count: 844

tw: insecurities, very mild angst (like a sprinkle), mentions of nayeon (not tw but i don’t want anyone to think i hate her i don’t she’s literally one of my twice biases), chan makes one lewd comment

sum: y/n suddenly feels very insecure and chris immediately steps into action! channie to the rescue!

an: im trying to figure out if I prefer referring to bangchan as chan or chris so rn I will flip flop between the two (this is also very self indulgent)

© copyright mp3chan 2022

you stared at the photo of chris and nayeon on his phone. he said he had been helping her with her solo album and popped into to her album shoot just to say hi.

“doesn’t she look really pretty?” chris commented, he was always complimenting the girl idols, mostly to their faces, knowing how much they struggled with diets and body image due to the nature of the industry.

you understood his support of nayeon and knew they were just friends, you even overheard her calling him her brother. but something about calling her pretty for the umpteenth time today just bothered you.

“yeah she looks great.” you finally managed to get out, trying not to let it show how much that hurt. you pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on them.

sometimes you didn’t understand what chris saw in you, couldn’t see the so called ‘beauty’ he did. you didn’t voice how often you really had these thoughts and just put on a brave face to not stress him out. he had enough on his plate, he didn’t need to deal with your insecurities as well.

you must have been spaced out and in your own head for awhile because when you looked back up, chris was in front of you, his phone tossed aside on his bed and leaning in close to you.

you quietly gasped not expecting him to be so close and blinked in confusion as to just what he was doing.

“what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours hm?” chris asked you, a small smile appearing on his face, he was just so handsome. you didn’t understand.

“why do you like me?” you blurted, the filter slipping away for a moment. “out of all the idols and beautiful models and people you could have had, you chose me.” you added, not able to look him in the eyes by now. “i don’t understand, never have.”

chris was stunned to say the least, he knew you had your insecure moments but you always seemed confident in your body and just overall.

“what are you talking about?” was the only response chris could formulate in that moment, letting his mind properly think after saying that. “do you think you’re not enough for me?” he asked you, lifting your chin gently so you were forced to look at him.

“i know i’m not enough, channie.” you sighed, pulling your head away so you could avoid his gaze again. only for him to pull your gaze back to him.

“explain.” was the only word he said, it sounded stern, almost angry.

“i mean someone like nayeon just seems like a better fit for you. i can’t even fit in your hoodies and she’d drown in them, she’s in the same industry you are and she gets the struggle and she’s just so perfect and i’m just….me.” you sniffled, closing your eyes so you could keep avoiding his gaze, you never wanted chris to know the severity of your insecurities.

“but that’s the exact reason i’m so in love with you.” chris chuckled, not realizing he just told you he’s in love with you for the first time.

you gasped and your eyes snapped open to stare at him. “you love me?” you asked him, still not fully believing him.

chris went bright red when he realized he said that and took a deep breath. “of course i love you.” he caressed your chubby cheek gently. “nayeon is a good person but she’s not you. she could never be you.” he explained and it just confused you even more.

“you’re almost always here when i get home to make sure i get something to eat and vent about my day. you’re so understanding and patient about my career and not a lot of people would be. you have the cutest cheeks that are just perfect to pinch, the best boopable nose, lips that I could kiss until i die.” chris started rambling, watching your cheeks get redder the more he spoke. “the best arms to be wrapped up in a hug in. the softest tummy to rest my head against when i’m tired. the plumpest thighs that I would easily let suffocate me as i eat you out.”

you gasped and smacked his shoulder at the lewd comment. “chris!”

“my name sounds perfect coming out of your mouth. your mind and humor is just amazing. you’re so thoughtful and helpful. i’ve never been happier, y/n.” chris whispered to you, your lips millimeters from touching.

“i love you.” you whispered, feeling a tear of happiness slid down your cheek.

chris smiled, gently wiping that tear away, and gently pecked your lips. “i’ve always loved you, it’s always been you, my love.” he rested his forehead against yours. “and it will always be you.”

you smiled, the negative thoughts fully melting away for good. you knew you’d have your moments in the future, but never like this.

not if chris had anything to do with it.

[eyelessfaces]

3. “You’re everything I could’ve wanted and more.” 🥺 being said to him😭

this is half angsty half horny don't look at me. also I reread it too many times and now I absolutely hate it

masterlist | taglist | ao3

—

You stop chewing on your food when you notice something is off. You're halfway done with your plate, and Llewyn has barely started eating his food, his gaze planted onto his glass of water as he absent-mindedly fiddles with his fork, pushing the food around like a kid who won't eat what they've been served. Although that's probably not that kind of problem Llewyn has right now. He’s difficult on a lot of things, but not food. Trying to survive for so long kinda taught him to not be picky.

“You okay?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled since you started eating.

“Yeah” he affirms as he snaps back to reality, giving you a nod accompanied by a quick, small smile to ease your worry.

It doesn’t work; you know his antics all too well. “No–” he quickly aborts his lie, leaves his fork to fall against the plate with a clinking sound.

“I was thinking– I feel so sorry sweetheart.” he shakes his head. “You’ve never dreamed of this” You put your fork down, more confused than ever.

“What do you mean” you ask with a frown, mouth still full.

“You couldn’t have possibly dreamed of a boyfriend that won you over by sleeping on your couch too many times a week and that eventually moved in without even being fucking able to help you pay the rent” he chuckles, reclining back into his seat.

“Llewyn what are you even saying” you scoff.

“I can’t give you anything and it’s fucking sad for you” he declares as he looks up at you like he's disappointed in your life choices.

“Hey– no” you reach to cover his hand over the table. “What are you– I don’t need you to give me anything,” you chuckle, running your thumb back and forth against the side of his hand. It tenses under your touch, and he sighs softly as his fingers tentatively come to tangle with yours.

“Seriously angel, don't you sometimes wish I wasn't such a deadbeat?” he asks rhetorically, running his free hand through his hair as he nervously chuckles. Your heart sinks as you listen to his words, and you pull away from him; he looks up and his gaze follows you when you stand up from your seat, joining him and clearing your throat before you settle over his lap.

“Absolutely not.” you affirm as you brush back a curl to the side, both your hands framing his face. His lips curl into a weak smile as he looks up at you, a saddened frown over his face. “I love you for who you are, not for what you can or can't provide materially or whatever the fuck you think I’m lacking with you.” you give him a small smile, fingers fiddling with the lapel of his shirt. He pinches his lips skeptically, but the glint in his eyes shines in a way that makes you think he wants to believe your sayings. “You’re everything I could’ve wanted and more.” you declare, punctuating your statement by kissing either of his cheeks.

“You sure have shit taste babe” he self-deprecates in a snort as his hand rests over your lower back; you chuckle before it comes out naturally; “Llewyn Davis, shut your damn mouth before I force you to,” playfully hitting his chest with the back of your hand.

There it is; a shift in his eyes. “Yeah? And how are you planning to do that” he raises his eyebrows provocatively, an expecting expression over his face.

“I can think of a few ways” you tease following his game, hand coming to bury in his hair. His lips curl upwards, letting his teeth peek slightly when you tug on his curls a little.

“Yeah? How about you show me,” he mutters, pulling you closer to him on his lap so you’re pressed tight against him.

“You sure seem a lot better than two minutes ago” you taunt as you play with a curl behind his ear. He buries his face into your neck, nose running along your jawline before he leaves a kiss there.

“You can’t expect me to not get a little excited when you come and sit on my lap,” he says, voice purposefully deep. You scoff and playfully roll your eyes.

“Finish eating and we'll take care of that” you affirm patting his shoulder, getting back on your feet before he gets up too and pulls you to him by your hand.

“You know what, dinner can easily wait”

—

inside llewyn davis taglist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @campingwiththecharmings @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @spxctorsslxt @dowbastan

[buckysmith]

Hello! I wanted to request a fluff with Megatron, Soundwave, Knockout! I thought maybe it would be cute if the decepticons reacted to their human being a caring loving mother figure that they probably never had.

Telling the bots to be careful and give them loving hugs whenever the person enters a room (well tries to hug but you get it)

They always give the decepticons head pats whenever the human can and praises them for their work in a soothing way. Just them being treated with the love they deserved for all this time!

Extra (you dont have to): if some mechs get fed up with the human and tries to get rid of them and the human gets taking out the ship and back to earth. Oh goodness when the decepticons find out that their human is missing òwó. Also I know I didnt add a lot of characters, only three. But if you feel like it you can add whoever you want!

Howdy! I love your request so much I had to do it right away but I don’t think I did it justice so I’m truly sorry for that! I hope you like it anyways.

The decepticons reacting to their human being a caring loving mother figure

Includes: Megatron, Soundwave and Knockout

Warnings: maybe a slightest bit of angst and low self esteem

Mostly fluff

I wrote it in a platonic way

Megatron:

- at first he would be very very stiff about you showing him that kind of love and he would probably try to stop you.

- He wouldn't want the other Decepticons to see him as weak because a human cares for him and also, he would worry that you're only doing it to find a weak spot to hurt him. To many people betrayed him already to trust so easily.

- He isn’t used to kind words or innocent touches, so to have someone like you, it would drive him nuts especially because you are human.

- He wouldn’t say he loves your words of affection, your smile and your look in your eyes when you compliment him, when you praise him, when you hug him or when you just cuddle with him, but in fact he does.

- Although he can’t really understand why you’re doing this, why you’re being all that nice to him, cause he sees himself as monster and he knows besides you everybody does that too.

- Whenever he’s feeling down or he’s scared he comes to you, wanting you to pet his head and telling him how proud you are.

- You’re always there when he leaves the ship no matter the time, no matter the reason for him to leave, telling him to be careful.

- Every time he would pick you up, raising you up to his faceplate and promising you to come back alive and healthy.

- The moment he’s back on the nemesis, you’re there to welcome him back and asking him if he’s okay.

- The way you cares for him would warm his ice cold heart everytime

- Your definitely the person he trusts the most and means the most to him.

- He would do anything to keep you save and healthy, no matter the cost

Extra

- Every bot on the nemesis would know that Megatron and you, a human, are very close and that he became soft over the time, or at least, he became soft around you and some of them would hate you for that.

- So some of the bot would plan to snatch you away while megatron is away doing god knows what

- He immediately knows something is clearly wrong when you’re not there to welcome him

- The first thing he does is to look in your room and surprise, you’re not there.

- after that he contacts soundwave to find you, and after soundwave tells him there’s no “human” signal on the nemesis he’s scared shitless

- He knows your not able to get off the nemesis on your own, and he knows since you’re an allay of the decepticons it would be pretty dangerous too to go back to earth without him.

- The only ones who are authorized to take care of you are Soundwave, Shockwave and Knockout so if neither has take you to earth he knows someone took you.

- With soundwaves help he would find the traitors pretty quick

- He would do anything to get you back and the moments he finds you and the bot who took you, he sees red.

-After that you both would comfort each other and believe me when I’m saying something like that would never ever happen again

Soundwave:

- Same as Megatron he would be stiff about that kind of affection at first.

- He would ask himself a lot of questions, like, why are you so nice to him, why all those hugs and loving word’s. He wouldn’t understand you the slightest bit.

- You’re a human, why do you care for him? He’s just a bot, nothing else.

- He would get attached to it pretty fast though

- most of the time he’s on the nemesis, doing nothing but work, so to have you, praising him, cuddling him and petting his head after his duty’s are fulfilled, means everything to him

- He knows your mothering him and he’s done some research on why you’re doing this and if every human does that.

- He absolutely adores it that you care for him, that you ask him how he’s doing, that you hug him when he’s stressed and that you ask him to be careful when it happens that he has to leave the nemesis

- He doesn’t care if some other bot thinks he’s weak, he knows he is not and he also thinks that you’re not weak like some others say. In his optics you’re the strongest and most caring human that exists.

- You’re a role model for him, even though he’s so much older than you and knows like everything, cause even if he’s a huge war criminal who could easily crush you, you never feared him nor did you ever insult him.

-He likes to give you head pats too, just to show you without using his words that you mean everything to him

-because you mean so much to him, one of his little cassettes would always be by your side and would protect you.

Extra:

- As mentioned he rarely leaves the nemesis and if he does, one of his little cassettes watches over you

- So the moment his cassette sends a sos signal to him, he’s on his way to you

- Whoever the bot is that tries to steal you from him, his end is near

- Soundwave would be on his ass the moment he’s leaving the nemesis with you

- Give him lots of love, attention and praise cause he would need that after multiple spark attacks

Knockout:

- He's the one who would be the quickest to accept this new found affection

- Your praise, your kind words, the sweet pats on his head, the innocent hugs and the love you’re showing him would mean so much to him

- You’re his rock, his family, you mean everything to him and he’s willing to show you that you’re his family

- Not like the others, he wouldn’t ask himself why you’re so nice to him, he would simply accept and enjoy it. Way to many years filled with betray and war that he’s letting his chance of having someone like you in his life go

- He would ask you for physical affection all the time, like head pats or a hug cause his kind is just like the humans, it needs that kind of affection.

- He purr’s (only if you’re alone with him)

- Every time he leaves the nemesis you’re there to say goodbye to him, to wish him luck and to tell him to care of himself.

- You’re the only reasons he likes to go back to the nemesis, cause he knows you’re there waiting for him

- To welcome him, to tell him he did a good job, to be there for him.

Extra:

- He loves street racings and even though he knows your worried about him, he likes to go out and attend street races (mostly because every time he comes home, you’re waiting for him. Asking him if he was okay and giving him affection)

- So to come back to the nemesis and it seems you’re nowhere to be found he would be panicking.

- He knows a lot of the other bot doesn’t like humans so he would immediately try to find you (together with breakdown)

- In the end he would ask soundwave to help him to find you and together they would find you somewhere in the desert.

- After you’re back on the nemesis he would need a lot affection and words, cause he’s sure he had over ten spark attacks while you were nowhere to be found.

I’m sorry that the Knockout one is so short 🙏

[darkesttimelinestuff]

"Do you recognize this?"

Day 7 of Fictober! How am I still doing this? Really proud that I've been able to write every day.

I had a lot of fun finding pictures for today's story.

Prompt #7 - "Do you recognize this?"

Find me on Ao3

Scully had turned her office upside down and inside out looking for her passport. She knew exactly where it was. Where she always kept it. Or, at least where it should have been. 

Maybe Mulder had moved it. He sometimes tossed things aside without realizing it. That’s how she had lost her paycheck once, until it turned up at the bottom of some of Mulder’s papers. Neither was quite sure how it had happened, but from then on Scully was certain to keep important documents as far from Mulder’s reach as possible. 

“Mulder, are you sure you didn’t touch the things in my desk?” she called across the room.

“I’m sure!” he shouted back defensively. “What business would I have going through your desk?”

“Because I always keep my passport right here,” she said, pointing to a drawer, “and I don’t see it. And if I can’t find it, we can’t go to Mexico tomorrow.”

Mulder stood and crossed the room to her desk. “Let me check,” he offered. “Two sets of eyes are better than one, right?”

She motioned with her hand, giving him permission to look.

“Be my guest, but I doubt you’ll find it. I’ve searched that desk twice,” she insisted, slumping in a nearby chair in frustration. 

As Mulder bent over the desk in concentration, Scully checked out his ass. Even in his 50s he had killer buns! 

“It’s so unlike you to misplace these things,” he was saying. “I’m a little disappoint…”

And then he stopped. 

“What?” she asked, worried that maybe he found her passport but it was damaged or expired. 

“Oh wow!” he exclaimed, standing up and examining something she couldn’t quite see. 

It looked like a small paper and she suddenly became very self-conscious. 

“What is it?” she asked, reaching for his hands, hoping to pry them open.

“Oh, it is the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen,” Mulder said, “and I can’t believe you never showed me!”

“Mulder, what is it?” she demanded, cursing her short stature. 

“Do you recognize this?” He held up a photograph.

“Oh, my god,” she said, feeling both embarrassed and defensive about the picture. “I haven't thought about that in a very long time.”

The picture showed a young Dana Katherine Scully on a bed in a black lace push-up bra and panties. She hated that word, but there was no better term for it. They weren’t underwear; that was too plain. No, these were panties. The kind a partner used their teeth to slide down your legs. 

This was Dana, not Scully, and she was bold and sensual, rather than pragmatic and sensible. Her smothering eyes said, “come fuck me,” and you couldn’t deny her anything. 

“Well,” Mulder said, licking his lips, “this is fucking incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! I love this! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this.”

“There are,” Scully said hesitantly, “more.”

“I need to see them,” he replied, almost too excited.

“Well, this was back when I first started at the F.B.I.,” she said, searching for the other pictures. “My friend suggested it and I don’t know what possessed me, but it seemed like a good idea.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, not at all! I’m very proud of these pictures. But they’re more for me than anyone else. Ah! Here they are,” she said, handing him the rest of the photos.

The pictures showed a progression of Dana Scully shedding a man’s white button-up shirt, so that she was hugging her lace-clad breasts, posing suggestively on a bed, and, in the last one, looking right into the camera with nothing but a sheet wrapped around her.

“Well, I would be honored if they could also be for me.”

“They aren’t a secret. I just forgot about them,” she admitted. “So much has happened to us.”

“We’ve known each other, what, over twenty years,” Mulder said, “and you never thought to show me these?”

“Twenty-five years.”

“I’m really glad you lost your passport,” Mulder said, studying each and every photo.