#10 Best Things To Do In Switzerland

[booktrip4u]

Discover the 10 Best Things To Do In Switzerland

Switzerland, a country known for its stunning landscapes, rich history, and diverse culture, offers countless experiences for every type of traveler. From picturesque mountains and serene lakes to vibrant cities and charming villages, there's something for everyone in this beautiful nation. Here are the 10 best things to do in Switzerland that will make your trip unforgettable.

1. Explore the Swiss Alps

Keywords: Adventure, Natural Beauty, Hiking

The Swiss Alps are the highlight of any trip to Switzerland. Whether you're visiting in winter for skiing and snowboarding or in summer for hiking and mountaineering, the Alps offer endless opportunities for adventure. Popular destinations include Zermatt, home to the iconic Matterhorn, and Jungfrau Region, known for its breathtaking views and well-maintained trails.

Activities:

Skiing and snowboarding in winter

Hiking and mountain biking in summer

Scenic train rides, like the Glacier Express

2. Discover Lucerne

Keywords: Historic, Scenic, Cultural

Lucerne, nestled amid snow-capped mountains and crystal-clear lakes, is one of Switzerland’s most beautiful cities. Explore the charming old town with its colorful buildings, visit the Chapel Bridge and Water Tower, and take a boat trip on Lake Lucerne for a panoramic view of the surrounding landscape.

Highlights:

Chapel Bridge and Water Tower

Lion Monument

Lake Lucerne boat tours

3. Experience Zurich

Keywords: Urban, Cultural, Shopping

Zurich, Switzerland’s largest city, is a vibrant hub of culture and finance. Stroll through the picturesque Old Town, visit world-class museums like the Kunsthaus Zurich, and indulge in shopping along Bahnhofstrasse, one of the world's most exclusive shopping avenues.

Must-See:

Old Town (Altstadt)

Kunsthaus Zurich (Art Museum)

Bahnhofstrasse for luxury shopping

4. Marvel at the Rhine Falls

Keywords: Natural Wonder, Scenic, Adventure

Rhine Falls, Europe's largest waterfall, is a spectacular natural wonder located near the town of Schaffhausen. Enjoy a boat trip to get up close to the roaring falls, or view them from the observation deck for a thrilling experience.

What to Do:

Boat trips to the falls

Viewing platforms

Nearby Laufen Castle

5. Visit Geneva

Keywords: International, Scenic, Cultural

Geneva is a global city that houses numerous international organizations, including the United Nations. It’s also known for its beautiful lake, iconic Jet d'Eau fountain, and a plethora of museums and galleries. Don't miss the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Museum.

Highlights:

Jet d'Eau

United Nations Office

International Red Cross and Red Crescent Museum

6. Explore Interlaken

Keywords: Adventure, Scenic, Outdoor Activities

Interlaken, located between Lake Thun and Lake Brienz, is an adventurer’s paradise. It offers a wide range of activities such as paragliding, skydiving, and boat trips, all with the stunning backdrop of the Swiss Alps.

Activities:

Paragliding and skydiving

Lake Thun and Lake Brienz boat trips

Hiking in the surrounding mountains

7. Discover Bern

Keywords: Historic, Cultural, Scenic

Bern, the capital of Switzerland, boasts a beautifully preserved medieval old town that’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Walk along the cobblestone streets, visit the Zytglogge clock tower, and admire the Gothic architecture of the Bern Cathedral.

Must-See:

Zytglogge clock tower

Bern Cathedral

Bear Park

8. Enjoy a Train Journey

Keywords: Scenic, Relaxing, Unique Experience

Switzerland is famous for its scenic train routes that offer breathtaking views of the countryside. The Glacier Express, which connects Zermatt and St. Moritz, is known as the slowest express train in the world, providing a leisurely journey through some of the most picturesque landscapes.

Notable Routes:

Glacier Express

Bernina Express

GoldenPass Line

9. Taste Swiss Chocolate and Cheese

Keywords: Culinary, Authentic, Delicious

No visit to Switzerland is complete without indulging in its world-renowned chocolate and cheese. Visit a chocolate factory, such as Maison Cailler, to learn about the chocolate-making process and enjoy tastings. For cheese lovers, a trip to a traditional cheese dairy in Gruyères is a must.

Experiences:

Maison Cailler chocolate factory tour

Cheese tasting in Gruyères

Local markets for authentic Swiss products

10. Relax in Montreux

Keywords: Scenic, Relaxing, Cultural

Montreux, located on the shores of Lake Geneva, is famous for its annual Montreux Jazz Festival and beautiful lakeside promenade. The nearby Chillon Castle, a medieval fortress, is also worth a visit for its stunning location and historical significance.Plan your trip with these top 10 things to do in Switzerland and make the most of your Swiss adventure.

Highlights:

Montreux Jazz Festival (July)

Chillon Castle

Lakeside promenade

Conclusion

Switzerland offers a myriad of experiences, from adrenaline-pumping adventures in the Alps to cultural explorations in its charming cities. Whether you're hiking in the mountains, marveling at the natural wonders, or indulging in the country's culinary delights, Switzerland promises an unforgettable journey. Plan your trip with these top 10 things to do in mind and make the most of your Swiss adventure.

For more travel tips and comprehensive guides, visit BookTrip4u. Happy travels!

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Top 30 Things to See in Italy: Your Ultimate Travel Guide

Italy is a captivating destination that offers an abundance of incredible sights for visitors to discover. In this article, I outline the top 30 things that to see that have made Italy a truly captivating destination for travelers from around the world.

Italy is a captivating country that offers a wealth of incredible sights and experiences for visitors to enjoy. From the iconic landmarks of Rome to the picturesque coastal towns of the Amalfi Coast, there is no shortage of must-see things to see in Italy. From the ancient wonders of Rome to the raw beauty of the Dolomite Mountain range, this spectacular country never disappoints travelers. One…

[chukys-mouthguard]

A Shot at Love: meet the 12 eligible bachelors

It’s time to reveal the 12 eligible bachelors on this season of A Shot at Love: an nhl dating show au!

Get to know our 12 eligible bachelors, and the special guest hosts of our show, below!

Remember to mark your calendars, A Shot at Love: an nhl dating show au premiers Friday July 19th at 7pm EST!

A Shot at Love is pleased to announce that this season’s hosts are Paul Bissonnette and Ryan Whitney!

These two characters are ready to lead our lovely bachelorette through the journey of finding a shot at love with one of our lucky 12 bachelors!

Be prepared for plenty of Pink Whitney shots, and shameless sponsorship plugs (these washed up guys gotta make money somehow, why do you think they took this gig?). They might even have a few special guests stopping by the mansion!

And now let’s meet the 12 eligible bachelors!

Nico Hischier | 25, from Switzerland

Captain of the New Jersey Devils. Sweeter than Swiss Chocolate. Like quite frankly might be the sweetest man on planet earth. Enjoys adventures outdoors, movie nights, and a good puzzle. Loves working out, but be aware he definitely will always have a better butt than you. Very patient as he deals with Jack Hughes all day long. Nico is looking for a forever music festival date.

Jamie Drysdale | 22, from Toronto

His on ice skills make up for those he lacks in the style department. But that’s where you come in, Jamie needs a girl who can improve his fashion sense (cause Trevor clearly didn’t do much for him). He takes pride in his flow, so you never have to worry about him making fun of your self care routine. Jamie enjoys country music, shoulder rubs, and puppies.

Matt Rempe | 22, from Calgary

You’ll never have to worry about being taller than him in heels, as he is quite literally a giant. He loves a good book, and is even the co-founder of the first ever Rangers Book Club with Chris Kreider. Not afraid to fight for you. Guaranteed to make you laugh with his silly catch phrases. Looking for a girl who isn’t scared to clean his battle wounds.

Vince Dunn | 27, from Kawartha Lakes

The best mix of cocky, sweetheart, and a little bit of airhead. Knows he’s attractive, but will still be a complete goofball. A connoisseur of alcohol, could definitely recommend a wine or two. He enjoys video games, nights out, and binge watching a good Netflix show. He isn’t afraid to show his tough side if it comes to fighting for what he wants. Vince is looking for a girl to travel the world in the offseason enjoying the cuisine every country has to offer.

Jack Eichel | 27, from Chelmsford

His real name is John, but he goes by Jack. Be aware he is always going to be the diva of the relationship. Loves any sort of competitive activity, but will never let you win, and will always whine if he loses. Has a big heart and enjoys philanthropic work. Jack will never fail to make you laugh, always having a funny story to tell about another teammate. Jack is looking for a girl who is up for Brunch on Sunday’s, with football on the tv.

Mat Barzal | 27, from Coquitlam

Unique already because he spells his name with one T and not two, Mat is an all around catch. He speaks French, is obsessed with vacations to Italy, and prides himself on his physique. He’s not afraid of designer clothes, and you can guarantee he will buy you nice things. Mat is looking for a girl who will ride scooters with him Italy, and have a cold drink waiting for him on the golf cart after he sinks a hole in one.

Trevor Zegras | 23, from Bedford

Fasten your seatbelt, because with Trevor life is always in the fast lane. Trevor is a ball of energy that will always keep you guessing. Quite possibly a 10 year old trapped in a 23 year olds body. Whether you laugh at his jokes or not, Trevor will always be laughing. He enjoys music festivals, video games, and running his mouth 24/7. If you don’t end up choosing him he’s got Cole and the Hughes brothers as backups.

Quinn Hughes | 24, Bloomington

Don’t be fooled by his demeanor, Quinn is a big teddy bear. Captain of the Vancouver Canucks, he’s got a good amount of pressure on his shoulders. So Quinn enjoys time at the lake house to relax in the off season. Whether it be time on the boat, a round of golf, or time with family, Quinn loves taking time to recharge. He may be shy or soft spoken at first, but when he opens up he’s the biggest goofball. Quinn is looking for a girl that doesn’t mind annoying younger brothers.

Auston Matthews | 26, from Scottsdale

Not necessarily familiar with winning when it counts, but he sure knows how to score. Auston enjoys a day spent outdoors, walking his dog, and is even a closet sewer! So no more trips to the seamstress for you! He is also friends with Justin Bieber, so your wedding singer is already on lock. Auston is looking for a girl who will stick by his side through the ups, but more importantly the downs (cause knowing Toronto there will probably be a few).

Cole Caufield | 23, from Mosinee

The biggest Swifty in the league, though he tries to hide his love for her. He bought a party bus for T Swift, imagine the things this man would buy for you. His smile could light up any room, and there will never be a day he doesn’t make you laugh. Don’t get offended if he occasionally needs time with his boys (Trevor and Jack), they might let you fourth wheel if you’re lucky. Cole is looking for a girl to laugh at all his jokes and belt out T Swift at karaoke after a few beers.

Luke Hughes | 20, Manchester

The youngest of the Hughes brothers, and the youngest in the race for love. Though Luke very much is mature for his age. He prides himself on his attention to detail and how much he’d learn about you from one conversation. Luke enjoys a relaxing Sunday where you stay under the blankets and watch trashy reality tv. He is soft spoken, but your one on one conversations is where he chooses to open up. Luke is looking for a girl who can keep him sane but also bring out his wild side.

John Marino | 27, Easton

Probably the smartest man in the competition, he went to Harvard for crying out loud. John is a big fan of Fall, so he will gladly enjoy all the activities it brings and support your fall girl aesthetic. His ideal night in when he has a day off would be board games or a movie with lots of snacks. He loves to brighten your day with random facts, half of them not ones you believed because they were so random. John is looking for a girl who knows of anything fun to do in Utah, because seriously what is this city boy supposed to do in Utah?

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen

WC: 17k (I've literally been calling this a short filler hahahahaha)

18+ MDNI!!

Chapter Warnings: unbearable amounts of fluff like you're gonna think is this girl okay??? the answer, as you should already know, is no. I honestly think it's just fluff.... and bad smut. oral (fem receiving, very briefly) and p in v. mentions of jealousy I think. cheeto gets a name finally but honestly.... she's cheeto forever let's not forget. discussions around marriage and more babies. yeah - fluffy fluff.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Ten)

A/N: remember the good old days when I uploaded a chapter like every 10 days??? remember me trying to beat the week-ish allegations??? I can’t tell if me struggling to finish this fic is bc I’m worried it’s getting samey and boring or bc I don’t want to let them go but i need to get over myself!!! sorry for the wait on this one!!! I kind of veered off the path that I planned out for the end of this story, I was really adamant I didn’t want something to happen, but it doesn’t really make sense for the relationship and characters I’ve written for it NOT to happen, so pls bear with me while I figure these last couple of chapters out!! I know a few people have discovered this fic recently so thank you for reading!! I promise I do love these two as much as I haven't acted like it the last couple of months!!

BUT ANYWAY!!! MORE IMPORTANTLY!!!!! this chapter is dedicated to my bestie Rory!! it was her birthday on Monday and if I'm honest I don't know if I would have made it this far without her!! she sends me full chapter breakdowns every time I post and she loves Poppy and Nico as much as I do - literally if I perish, she will take the reins!!! she knows everything!!! I accidentally spoiled the gender to her forever ago, and she helped me figure out Cheeto's name (as well as the name cheeto lmao) and we compared lists and literally had the same number one and the same reason we are that connected!! @h1sch13r I love you so much I couldn't possibly put into words how much I appreciate you!! happy belated birthday capricorn queen!!

Nico

Ever since he moved to the states, summers in Switzerland have always been the best part of Nico’s year. 

Spending much needed time with his family - staying with his parents for days at a time, back in his childhood home, eating his mother’s cooking and hanging out with his dad, and annual trips with his siblings, where the three of them got to spend a week together pretending like their lives hadn’t taken them away from each other. 

Despite the chaos that came as hockey season came to a close, he always looked forward to coming home.

And last year, when he had done so after one of the most heartbreaking moments of his career, he had endured what he now considers the worst summer of his life.

And it was all because of Poppy.

He can see it so much clearer with hindsight, how he had taken himself so far off the beaten path just to avoid his feelings for her, and experiencing a summer with her only makes him regret it more.

Last year, he had come home in a slump, and he had thought, at the time, it was the noise of being knocked out of the playoffs and a brief appearance at the world championships that was lingering. He thought he was exhausted, and remorseful, and that it was the failure of carrying his teams any further that was making him feel so down.

And so he had tried his best to do things that made him feel the opposite. 

He bought an apartment, not too far from his family that he felt distant, but enough so that he could be independent when he came back. And he had tried to make it feel like home - furnished nice, with personal belongings from his parent’s house that made the place feel like his, and not some rental he had no place making feel like forever.

He went on more trips with his friends, weekends away, music festivals, sporting events, and made a point of saying yes to things he might usually have turned down.

And that had been what led him to Talia - to being blinded by what probably should have stayed a summer fling, in lieu of sparing a thought to adoring eyes looking back at him from booths in bar corners, and a girl that, in the back of his mind, he had always wanted to be forever, too.

He had missed Poppy more than he ever could have realised at the time - and had fallen victim to abiding by their usual routine of radio silence in the summer, without realising that they had grown way too much since the year before to seriously keep that up.

He wishes he’d have texted her or something, back then. Commented on an instagram post, responded to a story, or called her, even. Her voice might have deterred him from ever trying to move on, and it could have saved the two of them so much time and heartache from what came as a result of that.

But maybe then she wouldn’t be here now, belly round with his child, sat out on the terrace in the back yard of his childhood home, schooling his big brother at Uno. Maybe he wouldn’t come down the stairs in the morning to the sounds of her laughing with his dad, helping him prepare breakfast for the family and asking him questions about what constitutes being offside in soccer when he’d sit down to watch Switzerland play their international games and she’d join him to try get into it, herself. 

Maybe she wouldn’t go on shopping trips with his sister, and come back with bagfuls of baby clothes that she holds up to her front as she shows them all to Nico in their room, and make comments about how she can’t believe that something so big can grow from her belly. 

Maybe she would still be someone he always wants to keep to himself, instead of sharing her with the people he loves the most in this world, only to have his love grow for her even more - and maybe that’s not how he ever wanted things to be. 

So maybe he had to suffer through the facade he put on last summer to get to where he is now, content in every possible aspect of his life, wrapped up under the bedsheets, muttering random stories to Poppy’s belly as she sleeps, the side of his finger caressing the soft skin as he anticipates whatever movement happens inside her that is going to rouse her from whatever sweet dreams he hopes she’s having. 

“What are you doing?”

There’s a brief flash of light before Poppy joins him under the covers, pulling the sheet over her head to shield them from the morning sun’s intrusion before she looks down at where he’s resting beside her belly. 

Her eyes are narrowed like they’re trying to fight consciousness, and her face is swollen in that adorable way it gets in the mornings, puffy and plump, and he wants to kiss it all over. 

She’s so beautiful, and she’s his, and it warms his heart every time he gets to wake up to her. 

“Having a private conversation with my daughter, if you don’t mind,” he smiles up to her, soft and teasing, before she kicks him gently and shuffles her way out from under the covers.

“You made her make me want to pee,” she huffs, feet padding across the room to the en suite, where she leaves the door open as she empties her bladder, and he re-situates himself back against the pillows at the top of the bed, one arm behind his head, so he can watch her when she makes her way back.

Her bump is big enough now that she almost waddles, 6 weeks of eating his mother’s cooking, and all the incredible food they have tried in  restaurants he has told her about over the years, and she had really popped in no time - and it’s the sexiest Nico thinks she’s ever been. Nose and lips constantly swollen with water retention, her voice changing, Nico witnessing the ever-growing struggle that she refuses to acknowledge - but she does everything so effortlessly, and without much complaint, that he finds it all endearing. 

His eyes are drawn to her belly every time he sees her, chest puffing with pride when he takes notice of the speedy growth of it, and he fixates on it for as long as she’ll let him - usually swatting at his chest and telling him to knock it off with a telltale flush to her cheeks whenever they’re around others.

Sharing his part of the world with her these last six weeks have been pure bliss, and as she ambles her way back over to where he lays, he can’t help but be grateful for whatever led him to this - to her crawling back into bed and straight into his arms. 

“I want you to teach me your language.” She mumbles into his chest, her body curved into his, legs tangling immediately as his arms circle around her.

“The language of love?” He asks with a wiggle of his brows, leaning in to kiss her lips, laughing against them as he feels them frown, 

“Don’t be gross you know what I mean,” she sighs, lips fighting a smile, and he kisses her again, helping her hook her leg properly over his so she can straddle him, her bump settling between the two of them as she relaxes over his hips. “Swiss-German isn’t on Duolingo, I checked. And I can’t have you and Cheeto conspiring against me in words I don’t understand, that’s not fair.”

She looks so cute, all pouty and pleading, and as the gravity of what she’s asking weighs down on him, he breaks out into a dreamy smile, himself. 

He can’t think of any other person who had wanted to speak his language. Too complicated for most, with too many dialects to grasp properly, he has always adapted to what the people around him need. English, back in the states, which he likes to think he has mastered by now, but he still trips up on the odd word, here and there.

Some Italian, some French. Odd bits of Czech and Swedish.

And German - he and Talia always spoke in plain German. 

It had never really bothered him, until now - until he has a girl on his lap, willing to learn something for him, and so their daughter can learn it too - passing his culture down another generation and sharing it with the love of his life. 

“What do you want to know?” He asks, hands on her hips as she runs hers along the broad expanse of his chest, fingers trailing on the little patch of hair on his chest that she’s always drawn too, holding him in place so she can lean in and kiss him, herself. 

“Everything,” she whispers against his skin, lips pressing back to the corner of his mouth. “You can teach me, right?”

“Yeah,” he shuffles his hips beneath her so she rests a little more comfortably, “I can teach you.”

He reaches up to move her hair behind her neck, leaning to press a kiss on the bare skin there, edging the strap of her bra down so that he can mutter the word for shoulder against the curve of hers, and she repeats it back to him, breathy and distant. 

He does the same along her collarbone, against her neck, nipping at her jaw and her cheek.

He distracts her with his teachings, and she relays each word back almost perfectly as he slowly repositions the two of them, laying her up against the pillows so she isn’t flat on her back, and pressing kisses down her body. 

With fingers grasped firmly around her calf, he lifts her leg slowly so that he can perch it over his shoulder, pecking at the side of her knee and barely just making eye contact over the curve of her bump. “You’re a fast learner, Mohn,” he praises, fingers tickling up and down her leg as she straightens her back to try and watch him as his face moves upward. “Can you remember what shoulder was?”

“Not with you between my legs like that,” she huffs, her voice just above a whisper - too used to keeping her responses low whenever the two of them have been staying at his parent’s house instead of his apartment, too used to holding back and releasing frustrated groans into the broad expanse of his chest. 

The two of them had gotten creative, most of their time spent around Nico’s friends and family, only a few days here and there alone in his apartment. 

Quickies in the car, fumbling hands under tables, rushed kisses whenever they get a second to themselves. There had even been a time where Poppy sought him out in the sauna.

“Should you be in here?” He had asked, straightening on the bench and running a hand through his hair as she came in and shut the door behind her, eyes on his glistening chest as she slowly made her way forward.

“Google says I’m good for 10 minutes,” she shrugged, reaching back to untie the straps of her bikini top. “Figured you’re so riled up you’ll only need 2 anyway.”

He had been training with Luca most of the day, leaving Poppy to hang with his sister, and the two of them had spent the entire time they were apart texting each other teasing messages about how much they missed each other - but were staying with his family again, and so the outdoor sauna he and his brother had built in the garden a couple of years ago was probably their best bet for privacy at that point.

Nico’s eyes flickered to the clock above the door, making a mental note of the time so he could make sure she was out in 8 minutes max, before helping her guide herself onto his lap, giving into both of their frustrations for as long as Poppy’s Googling would allow them. 

“You might have to teach me again when you get back from your trip.” She tells him, spreading her legs as much as she can to accommodate his figure. He’d feel guilty for leaving her behind with his family if she hadn’t been the one to push him to go away training for a week - him and Luca accepting after her insistence that she’d be fine in the company of his parents and his sister.

“We can do that,” he chuckles, his voice low, too. “And again the day after,” he kisses a little further up, twisting at her calf to reveal the inside of her thigh, “And the day after that,” and again, even further. 

“Nico,” she sighs, face scrunching, eyes fluttering shut as he glances up at her one more time, his face concealed now by the curve of her belly and relying on her subdued sounds to gauge her pleasure. 

Poppy’s back arches about as much as it can as Nico closes in on the apex of her thighs, a finger hooked through the bottom of her panties, pulling them to the side as he nips at the top of her thigh, anticipation building until her hand finds purchase on the back of his head.

He lays his tongue flat against her glistening folds, bringing it up to get a taste of the heaven between Poppy’s legs, and relies on her breathy gasps and the buck of her hips to guide him to pleasure her just how she likes, lips around the bundle of nerves that makes her jolt when he sucks a little too hard, moving slowly, teasingly at first before hunger takes over.

He can’t relent until he feels her legs trembling at either side of his head, Poppy’s body slithering beneath him as his tongue works between her folds, and he can taste nothing but her sweet arousal.

He almost loses himself in her before he distantly hears a whisper of his name, ears perking at the tone in her voice - not like the usual pleasured gasp or moan, just slightly off.

“Babe, stop,” Poppy whines, fingers clutched in his hair as he withdraws from her heat, pulling back enough to check on her over her belly.

“You okay?” He frowns, hand gripping her thigh, thumb rubbing soothingly as he takes in her frustrated expression.

“No,” she pouts, “I can’t see you. I don’t like not seeing you.”

Nico pokes his tongue to the side of his cheek to stop himself laughing, feeling her fingers loosen their grip on the strands of hair in their hold enough that he can sit up a little. “Do we need to get a little creative with mirrors, or something?”

“No, I need you to come up here.”

“But I like it down here.” He sighs in faux-protest, leaning his cheek against her knee as their gazes meet.

Poppy narrows her beautiful eyes at him, and there’s no stopping the smile after that. “My back hurts like this,” she huffs, “And I don’t want your mouth right now.”

“Well if you were patient, I would have used my fingers, too,” he chuckles, retreating entirely so he can crawl up the bed. 

“Don’t want your fingers either.” She starts making grabby hands when he gets closer, until he follows her guidance, holding himself up to the side of her and letting her pull him in to press their lips together. 

“Greedy,” he teases into her mouth, just as one of her hands drops to tug at the waistband of his boxers. He can’t blame her for wanting more, though - not with the way they’ve both been chasing every little pleasure where they can over the past 6 weeks, and not with how he’s set to spend a week away for training with his friends. 

Poppy’s hormones are yet to dissipate, and all he wants is to please her, so he lets her pull at his underwear with ease, distracting him with the swipe of her tongue against his, and the soft little moans she lets into his mouth as he works at her underwear, himself.

“You wanna go on your side?” He mumbles between her lips, remembering the position they had ended up the last time, Poppy unable to lay on her back too long, and her bump now getting in the way if she wanted to straddle him. He was too nervous for her to get on all fours, despite her protests that she could handle not collapsing onto her front, and they had ended up spooning. He had enjoyed it way more than he ever thought he would if anyone had told him months ago that being behind her on his side would have become their default position.

“Mmhm,” she hums, nodding frantically as they position themselves, his hands guiding her to comfort as she lays on her side, hair tucked behind her ear so he can press his lips to the curve of her neck before sinking into her from behind, her back arched just right to make it easy for him. 

“Fuck,” he groans under his breath as he pushes himself in to the hilt, Poppy squeaking, her arm bent back and nails digging into his shoulder, “You feel so good, baby.”

She feels tight and warm around him, in a way that makes him feel like his head might explode in pure bliss, and he presses his chest straight to her back. Their skin sticks together with perspiration, clamminess building as he starts to move, and her head falls back, baring the elongated slope of her neck for him to bury his nose into.

She smells so good, even after a full night tossing and turning in his arms, and the ever-present scent of his body wash lingers in the depths of her skin, Nico inhaling fully as her hips press back onto his, a slow rhythm building.

He holds himself up with an elbow against the mattress, his other arm curling over her waist, hand reaching between her legs to rub at her clit, slick with arousal and swollen from his previous attention to it, causing her legs to tremble again. 

Her arm tangles with his, nails scraping at his skin, pushing to apply more pressure where she needs it the most, and he grunts lowly into her neck, nipping at her skin and lifting his chin every now and then to gauge her response to his ministrations.

He can see her jaw slack, head craned back, lashes fluttering in blissed-out euphoria as she grows closer to her peak - and Nico is so in tune with her now that he feels like he’s there with her. A night pressed against her, and his previous stint between her legs already adding to his pleasure, and he can feel the tell-tale tension in the pit of his stomach, muscles in his thighs growing taut as he kicks up his pace a little, Poppy quietly moaning like music to his ears.

“You gonna come, huh?” He asks in a breathy growl, lips moving against the sensitive skin of her neck, “Can feel you getting close, baby, you’re so good for me.”

Nico can never forget the way such praise had made her cheeks flush all those months ago, the first time they had ever slept together - the night their baby girl had been conceived, and their lives had been set to change forever. He’s always seeking that same reaction, that glint in her eye and the stutter of her hips - and she always gives him just what he wants, walls tightening around him in a mind-numbing pressure, thighs shivering, spine curving, all muscles tensing as she falls apart. And he soon follows, coming inside of her like he’s all too used to now, teeth pressed into her shoulder and chest panting against her back.

The arm she had intertwined with his soon untangles itself to reach back and stroke through his hair as he comes down, scratching at his scalp as she gets her own breath back.

He brings his hand up to his mouth to clean his fingers of her arousal before he goes back to rest his hands against her belly, still inside her until he softens, pressing soft kisses to her skin until she giggles a little when it tickles, and the vibrations of her laughter force him to pull out before he starts to grow hard again.

He does so with a grunt and a hand on her hip, rolling out of the bed and toward the bathroom to get a cloth to clean her up, returning to her blissed out form splayed out on the mattress.

He bites back a smile as their eyes meet, edging her legs apart so he can wipe between them, swiping softly at her sensitive folds and watching her smile sleepily back at him as her chest rises and falls in laboured breaths. 

“Thank you,” she sighs, blinking slowly, and he feels his cheeks push into a dimpled grin as he watches her - completely lost in the afterglow.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby,” he throws the cloth over to the nightstand, crawling up Poppy’s body to press his lips to hers.

“You make me really happy.”

He smiles, slow but big, eyes tracing the way hers crinkle a little in the corners. “You make me happy too.”

“I said really happy.”

“You make me the happiest man in the world.”

“That’s better.” She bumps her nose against his before kissing him again. “You’re a quick learner, too.”

He chuckles against the corner of her mouth, pressing one more sweet kiss there before pushing himself up, looking around the floor for his pants. “Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll bring you some breakfast? Make you really really happy,”

“Or we could eat together and you could shower with me? We could have some more fun-,”

“I’m not falling for that again, babe, you don’t want to have fun, you want me to wash your hair because your arms ache.”

He’s been lured into the shower one too many times over the past 6 weeks with the promise of a good time, only for Poppy to claim they couldn’t get too frisky and risk slipping, so he may as well put his hands to good use and shampoo her hair - guiding him on where she liked him to apply pressure until he was pretty much giving her a scalp massage.

Poppy pouts, sinking back against the pillows as she watches him hop into his underwear, pulling the briefs until the waistband snaps against his hips, her eyes following them all the way up his legs. “I thought you loved me.”

His laughter bubbles all the way up from the pit of his stomach, swirling with adoration and amusement. 

“And now you’re laughing. Unbelievable.” She scoffs, feigning irritation with a telltale quiver at the corner of her lips. “Do I need to remind you that you’re going away for a whole week tomorrow? Living it up with your buddies and leaving me in the dust. I’m owed like 2 more orgasms at least before then.”

“I’ll give you three tonight, I promise.” He leans in again, thinking he’ll never make it out of the room at this point, Poppy having the most kissable lips in the entire universe. “We’ll figure out the mirror thing, so you can see me better between your legs.”

She hums against his mouth as she kisses him once more before asking, “Can you make me avocado toast please?”

“And a smoothie?” He asks, stepping away so that he isn’t drawn back in until mid-day.

She nods, a pretty smile stretching out across her swollen lips, watching as he walks backward towards the door. He keeps his eyes on her until he closes the door behind him, making his way through his family home with a smile that won’t give, feeling confident in his previous sentiment uttered to her. 

Nico Hischier might just be the happiest man in the world.

Nico had thought being away from Poppy for a whole week would have been torturous - that he would be counting down the hours until he could get back to her, distant from his friends and hating every second apart - but it had almost been the opposite of that, and he only had her to thank.

He thinks that maybe 6 weeks of living out the dream life with her, and knowing that would be exactly what he was returning to, allowed him to enjoy his week away - even though it wasn’t exactly a break. 

His off-season training had kicked up a gear while he was away, and he was thankful that he didn’t have to mope around missing her all the time and could concentrate a little on his gruelling routine.

They FaceTimed every morning, and every night before she went to sleep. Texted throughout the day, sending pictures back and forth of what each other got up to - Poppy spending her days with his parents and his sister, being doted on by his entire family in his absence, in ways that made his heart grow ten-fold, and his days spent training, lifting, running, hiking, doing all sorts of activities that he would send her several videos of and she would respond with some crazy comment that made him laugh out loud. 

She never made him feel guilty for being away from her - never made it seem like she felt like second best to his schedule, or his career, or the season looming in the background of their relationship. She never complained about him not being around, only ever gushed about who was back home with her - telling him how much she loved hanging around with Nina, who was back in Switzerland taking her on spa trips and exploring the city with her, teaching her about their hometown and filling in all the blanks that Nico had yet to clue her in on. 

And he was getting chirped like hell for walking around with a constant dopey smile on his face - something he should know better by now than to do on a boys trip, but he was long past caring.

He had the girl of his dreams blending in with the family he loved more than anything, and a little girl on the way - his best friend and brother rallying the boys to poke fun at him at the dinner table could do nothing to diminish the flame that was fuelled within him.

“I’m on my own when we get back to Jersey, even Nico’s wifed off, now,” Timo jokes as they sit around a large restaurant table on their last night of their trip, his big arm resting on the back of his chair as he sips on his beer. 

“You’re getting married, too?” Their friend Leo asks, brows raised as the influx of new information hits him all at once. “You guys don’t tell me anything!”

“It’s just a saying,” Nico scoffs, his bottle pressed to his lips before he takes a swig, “We’re not engaged.”

“Yet.” Luca adds, “I give him a month before he asks her, though. You should see him around her, he’s obsessed.”

“It won’t be a month,” he denies, ignoring the second half of the sentence, completely - there’s really no point denying that anymore, “I’d have to get her dad’s permission or whatever, and her parents sort of hate me.”

Timo barks out a laugh from across the table, “Oh yeah, he yelled at her dad!”

“You yelled at someone?”

“I didn’t yell,” he frowns, the word starting to lose all meaning with its overuse. “I just called him out over something. And, to be honest, I think he might have liked me more after that.”

Nico doesn’t really like looking back on that first night at the Jensen house - there was probably no preparing him for what he was walking into, and, entirely overwhelmed by the grandeur of it all, he had lost his head. But their family dynamic was difficult.

He had witnessed it only in short bursts, before - had seen Poppy around her mom a few times, had met her dad once before that in passing - and being immersed in it, being looked down on by her mother all day, overshadowed by her brother, ignored by her father, watching the whole conversation around their pregnancy unfold at the dinner table, tensions high and emotions rampant, he had let his frustrations build to the point of boiling over.

When Poppy’s brother had first started berating her, he had tried to write it off in his head as sibling banter of sorts. He and his siblings were never quite as cruel, but he knows sometimes brothers and sisters bicker like Poppy and Oli had - biting remarks and words intended to hurt. Then, it had spiralled.

He’s seen Poppy stick up for herself, before, but he’s never experienced her blow up like that. And he had understood it completely, considering he was reaching the brink of eruption, himself - and that’s not taking into account her heightened pregnancy hormones.

He had felt protective, and even upset, himself, that this thing his family had embraced with open arms, had celebrated at time where he and Poppy needed it the most, that was turning his life around in all the best possible ways, was being rained on by the rest of them, and when Poppy had stormed off, and her mom had followed, he couldn’t sit there in silence and not say something.

What kind of partner would that have made him?

“I think you underestimate her.” He had said, quiet but firm, as silence settled over the table in Poppy’s absence. 

The reactions had been slow, a gradual raise of Oli’s head, matching that of his wife, beside him, who pressed her lips together to hide what Nico hoped was a smile, and the prolonged lowering of cutlery from her father. 

“Excuse me?” Philip asked, leaning onto his elbows. “What did you say?”

“Poppy,” Nico clarified, “I don’t think that any of you really understand what she’s capable of.”

“That’s my daughter you’re talking about, I think I of all people understand-,”

“She’s really smart,” Nico had interjected before he lost the courage to do so, ignoring the twinge in his gut that told him to calm down, that he shouldn’t be risking his relationship with the future grandfather of his baby like this. “And really independent, and she somehow always knows what to do if you drop her into the middle of a really tough situation. If you could see her at work, you’d get it, people go to Poppy to fix things and for her to help them, and support them, and she always does it because that’s the kind of person she is.”

Neither of them had seemed to react, but had been so far into hyping himself up to let all of his thoughts out that he doesn’t think he would have noticed if they had. 

“You guys might not see it because you only see her as your daughter, or your little sister, but she is the strongest person I know. She’s an incredible woman, and she’s going to be an even better mother, and she deserves, more than anybody else, for her family to have her back right now.”

“It was just a joke, man,” Oli had scoffed, “It’s not that serious.”

“It is to her. She spent the entire ride here talking about you guys, about your family and everything you’ve built for yourself in California,” Nico had nodded to her brother, remembering all the ways Poppy had hidden her admiration for him behind sarcastic comments - even before the drive from Jersey City, over the years where she had opened up to him about her family, he had always seen a small dash of affection for her older brother - before turning to her dad, “And everything you’ve achieved, sir, everything you’ve built for yourself, and for your kids. She just wants to be seen as an equal, and I think if either of you actually noticed her, you’d see just what she’s capable of, and you wouldn’t make digs at her,” he had narrowed his eyes at Oli, “Or sit in silence while others make her feel like crap.” He hadn’t quite been able to meet Mr Jensen’s eye, but he felt a little relieved that he had managed to say what he needed. “You’re both supposed to have her back.”

Neither of them had come back to him after that, tensions rising once more in the growing silence, the hammering of his heart and the rush of blood to his head the only thing he could hear before he had excused himself, and had ascended through the house to find Poppy in her room. 

He hadn’t told Poppy at the time what he had said - he felt no need to do so, it wouldn’t have changed anything, and might have made her upset or even more stressed, which he never wanted to do. But Philip had changed after - had made more efforts to be there for Poppy, to get to know Nico, and the two of them had even gotten onto texting terms. 

So he doesn’t necessarily think that her parents hate him, but it’s definitely too soon to be asking for their daughter’s hand in marriage, even if it feels like the right thing to do.

Even if the thought of it has started to keep him awake at night, as Poppy tosses and turns to get comfortable beside him. Even if he finds himself stroking at the bare surface of her ring finger when they hold hands, and introducing her to others as his wife in a language she doesn’t fully grasp - pretending it’s a joke she isn’t clued in on, when really it feels more like a manifestation.

He twirls the ring she had gifted him on his own ring finger, the weight of it especially present in the midst of this conversation, frowning as Timo levels him with a stern look.

“You know that getting her dad’s permission isn’t like the law or anything right?”

He does know that. If he’s honest, he knows he’s using it as an excuse, too - but admitting to that at dinner with the boys feels like he’s setting himself up for an entire night of chirps.

He and Poppy have only technically been together for a couple months, and most of that time had already been spent apart. When he had asked her to move in, she had taken offence at him only asking due to the convenience of it all, and he half expects the same if he gets down on one knee.

He can hear her already, some muttering of, you only want to marry me because I’m having your baby, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

When Nico pictures his future, he pictures Poppy. 

Everything revolves around Poppy.

And yeah, their baby girl plays a big factor in that - seeing Poppy as a mother, raising their daughter together, providing a happy, stable home for her to thrive in. But it’s so much more than that, too.

It’s her being his partner. Waking up to her, tracing over the soft curve of her lips as she rouses from sleep, and knowing, as sure of anything in his heart, that no day can ever be bad if it starts out like that. 

Feeling secure in his job, despite all the times in his life he has felt anything but, and knowing that he can succumb to the pressure of it all without having to worry about her bailing. She has his back in ways no body ever has before. She understands the demand of his career, the fact that he isn’t available at all hours of the day to her every need - but she can take care of herself. She would rather do so, and she doesn’t make him feel guilty for the fact that sometimes his schedule takes priority - because the times that he can prioritise her are valued in ways that he never thought he could provide - not if anybody asked any of his exes, at least.

She understands his role as a captain, how he has to be there for the guys, understands his love for doing so, and has never in their entire relationship, made him feel like it’s a burden, or that she feels neglected because of it.

Even before they crossed the boundaries of something more. When they were just friends - as if they were ever just anything - and he could vent all of his worries and stresses to her, and she’d talk him out of ever seeing the negatives.

She has some sort of superpower, he thinks, for turning things around like that, and he wants to bask in the glory of it for the rest of his life.

He wants that warm feeling that floods his chest at the thought of going home to her after a long day to never go away.

And he knows that it isn’t a chunk of metal around her finger, or signatures on paper, that solidifies that.

But he wants it, all the same.

“I don’t know, we haven’t been together that long.”

Timo barks out a laugh, and a couple other guys at the table raise their brows. 

“Do you know when I first got to Jersey, Siegs was the one who introduced me to Poppy? You know what he said?”

Nico shakes his head, a crease forming between his brows as he frowns at his friend. 

“He points at her from across the room, we were at a bar, the one near his place, he says that’s Poppy, and I look over and I think, whoa, she’s gorgeous, maybe I will like it here,” Nico narrows his eyes as Timo recalls the story, his hands unintentionally balling into fists below the table, “And before I can even get a word out, he goes, Nico’s Poppy. He told me not to even think about it.”

“We weren’t in a relationship, though.” He argues, despite the way his lips twist into an almost-smile, one trying to hide itself from prying eyes. He does quite like the ring of that. Nico’s Poppy.

It reflects that base level possessiveness he feels when he looks at her - the way he’s probably felt since the day they met, sharing a bond he had never really shared with anyone else. Feeling jealous when any of the other guys would talk to her alone, as petty as it might have been, and only ever wanting her attention on him. 

“You’ve always been in something with her,” Timo shrugs, “There’s no point delaying the inevitable if it means you get to make sure she’s your Poppy forever.”

“We don’t have to be married for her to be mine.”

He does feel comfortable knowing that - feels sure and safe in their dynamic, now - knowing the life they share, the home they share, the baby they’re so close to bringing into this world together. Knowing how much she loves him, how much she’s willing to be there for him, even when he feels like he isn’t enough for her. 

He’s never felt so secure in a relationship in his life, and he doesn’t need to force either of them into marriage when they’ve never really had that conversation - even if the few times he’s attempted to joke about it, she has been receptive.

“I don’t know why you’re trying to talk yourself out of it.” Luca chimes in from the side of Nico, “You’re never gonna find anybody more perfect for you. I think our parents like her more than they even like us at this point,” he tells the rest of the table, swatting at his little brother’s shoulder, before reaching for his beer. 

“Yeah,” Nico sighs with a smile, knowing already there’s no one more perfect for him - he’s only been cursing himself all summer for not coming to that conclusion much sooner. “Mom will probably already have asked her for me while she’s been with her this week.”

He knows he’s delaying the inevitable, trying to pretend that marriage isn’t what he wants right now with Poppy - he had pictured it the second she told him she was pregnant, his life flashing before his eyes in home-movie-esque glimpses, babies, and white dresses, and a big house with a nice plot of land in the back for him to build a tree house like in the movies.

He knows, too, deep down, that there is the slimmest possible chance of rejection. She loves him. She shows him every day just how much - and she’s been so willing, so far, to fit herself into his life in whatever way is easiest. 

He knows when he sees her, tomorrow, that the thought of dropping to one knee as soon as his eyes lock on her will cross his mind.

And he thinks when he does get back, after a week of chirps about being wifed off, he might just test the waters.

Nico doesn’t think he’s ever had a quicker flight than the one he and Luca took back from Tenerife. From check-in, to boarding, to the plane ride, itself, he felt like he had blinked and landed back on home soil, heart beating that little bit quicker in anticipation of seeing Poppy - of his eyes laying on that perfect bump for the first time in a week and catching the slightest difference, making up for lost time while they can in the privacy of their apartment before they spend the week with his brother and sister.

The train ride from the airport flies by too - Nico feeling excitement akin to when he was younger, and his dad would take him and Luca to go practice at their local rink, and he was at a point in his life that he loved nothing more than hockey, wanted nothing more than to don his skates and play to his heart’s content.

He feels that way about Poppy, now, he thinks. 

Like she’s something he can dream toward - push and strive to keep her in his life for as long as he possibly can. 

It feels like the blink of an eye before he’s putting his key in the door of the apartment, pushing in with his case following behind him, discarded in the entryway as he steps though the hall in search of her. 

“Baby, are you home?” He calls, his heart thumping as he waits to catch his first proper glimpse of her in a week.

“In the kitchen!” She calls back, voice like his favourite song, and when he steps into the room he sees her by the oven, prepping for dinner. When she had first offered to pick him up from the train station, he had joked that he didn’t trust her driving alone on European roads, but the truth of it was that he felt better coming home to her - where she was safe, and he wasn’t putting her out just so that he could selfishly see her sooner. 

And seeing her there, in the heart of the apartment he had bought last summer, when the idea of her ever being in it was nothing but a dream, swollen and round and growing their baby, he thinks that reality is more than worth the wait.

“Hey,” he sidles up behind her, arms placed on either side of her body on the counter as she chops at some peppers. Poppy angles her head so that he can press his usual kiss to her cheek, and Nico feels it puff up with a smile. 

She smells clean and fresh, like home, like a mixture of the detergent she uses on their sheets, and his body wash that she still likes to steal, and he swipes his nose at her flesh as he takes a prolonged inhale of her skin, filling his lungs with the familiarity of it and making up for the days he spent away. 

“Hi,” she turns back enough that he can press a kiss to her swollen lips, slow and sweet, “I figured you’d be beat when you got home so I ran you a bath, I only just shut it off like 2 minutes ago.”

He kind of likes how there isn’t a big fuss about him coming home - likes that she’s welcoming him back like it hasn’t been almost a week, and it diminishes the guilt he had been feeling for leaving her behind at all. It reinforces the thoughts he’s always had - that Poppy makes everything easy. 

She puts the knife down and turns in his arms when he kisses her again, and his hand swipes from the curve of her belly to the small of her back, keeping her stomach pressed to his.

“You’re too good to me,” he mumbles before his lips touch hers again, nose bumping teasingly at hers when she starts to chase him for more. “There’s room in that tub for 3, you know.”

“It’s supposed to be for you to relax,” she tells him as her hands travel the broad expanse of his chest, sweeping to his shoulders and down the width of his arms that are circled around her. “And I’ll have dinner ready for when you get out.”

“Trust me, Mohn,” he hums, his hands travelling slowly down her sides, “That is my idea of relaxing.” And then he leans down to hook an arm behind her knees, lifting her before she has a chance to protest, all too prepared after a week of training to carry her down the hall toward the bathroom, making sure she isn’t too curled up that it’s uncomfortable with her bump. “Dinner can wait.”

“You missed me that much, huh?” She giggles as he sends a gentle kick to the door, letting it swing open before he steps into the room. “You gonna have me sit on your lap while we eat, too?”

“Yeah, you can feed me if you want,” he laughs as he places her on the counter in the bathroom, her legs parting immediately for him to slot himself between them. “And I missed you more than it might be healthy to admit.”

“I missed you too,” Poppy smiles softly, hands reaching up to tuck the grown out flicks of hair behind his ears as his own hands place themselves on either side of her hips, ��Appreciated all those sweaty workout videos you sent me though, definitely made up for you being gone.”

“Thought they might,” Nico chuckles as he starts working at undressing her, sliding her shorts down her legs and throwing them into the hamper. “Appreciated that video you sent me of your belly moving like something out of Alien.”

“She’ll probably start up soon, she likes to move while I’m eating now, she keeps getting the hiccups, it’s quite cute.”

Nico leans down once he’s lifted the big t-shirt that covers Poppy’s torso, and while she works it off, he presses a soft kiss to her bare belly, nudging the curve of it with his nose before he stands to his usual height and starts to work his own clothes off. He can feel the heat of her gaze as he steps out of his underwear, and it prickles at his skin like a lingering longing, like the way his own feelings have lingered over the past week.

A week where he had pushed forward on the sheer thought of Poppy, and now that she’s in front of him, those thoughts swirl into something overwhelming. 

He offers her a hand to help her down from the counter, and guides her toward the tub, the water still hot, but not scolding, on it’s way to tepid as he steps in and positions himself toward the back. He holds her steady as she steps over the edge, and sinks down as she lowers herself, her bump making it difficult to do so with ease, but he spreads his legs for her to sink back into him, and he soon feels her relax with her back to his front.

“Does it hurt,” he mutters with his limbs curved around hers, “When she moves a lot?”

He had noticed before he left that things had become a little more difficult for Poppy - sleeping, staying on her feet for extended periods - and when she had sent him a video of movements she could see through her belly, he had thought it seemed uncomfortable, but she just shrugs against him.

“It’s just weird, I guess,” she sighs, muscles seeming to melt against him. “Depends how she’s positioned, she was playing my ribs like a xylophone the other day, that wasn’t fun.”

Nico smiles, hand coming around her front to caress her belly, rubbing gentle circles into her soft skin. “Where is she now?”

“I think her butt is at the front,” her hand rests on top of his, moving it up a little, and a bit more to the side, “She’s gonna give me hell later, I can feel it.”

“Maybe she’ll behave now that her daddy’s home,” he mutters, his lips falling by instinct to kiss at Poppy’s bare shoulder before he hooks his chin over it, “Maybe she missed me too.”

“She definitely missed you. She practically did somersaults every time you came up in conversation.”

“My girl,” he smiles into Poppy’s neck, “Did she kick for Nina yet?”

“Oh yeah,” she laughs, her hand moving to trail up and down Nico’s leg beside her, “She jumped around so much in there that I learned a new word while you were gone.”

“From Nina?”

“Häsli,” she says with perfect, practiced pronunciation. 

“Little bunny,” Nico chuckles, both hands patting at the bump where his daughter rests. “I like it.”

“Good, ‘cause your parents have started calling her it, too. No respect for Cheeto around here.”

Nico finds himself melting in ways he didn’t think he needed to - an ache so present in his bones he hadn’t even realised it was there, all of a sudden fading to nothing as he sits in the tepid, soapy water with his girls in front of him. Poppy absentmindedly uses her fingers to trickle droplets down his calves, and makes space for him to rest his head in the space where her neck and shoulder meets. 

“Who’s the better teacher?” He asks, looking up and watching as the width of her cheeks puff out into a close-lipped smile. 

“Well, you have an automatic advantage, considering I can’t ask your sister to teach me all the dirty stuff.”

“Is that all I’m good for, the dirty stuff?”

“I’m yet to be able to hold a conversation that has nothing to do with body parts, so you tell me.”

“Yeah, well the more you learn, the less I get away with, so we might have to put a pause on the lessons.”

“And what is it you think you’ve been getting away with?” Poppy asks, twisting a little so she can look back at him, and it’s when her eyes meet his that Nico feels some warped sense of security wash over him. He hadn’t planned on bringing this up, especially not so soon after coming back from his trip, but it just feels right.

And it’s better to get it out of the way sooner - where better to test the waters than in the bathtub?

“Whenever we meet someone, I’ve been introducing you as my wife,” he admits, cheek pressed to her shoulder blade as he looks up at her through thick lashes. 

Her lips twist in amusement, eyes shimmering in the warm light of the bathroom, and it seems like she’s biting back a smile at the revelation. His heartbeat steadies just a little. “Oh really? How have you been getting around the distinct lack of a ring on my finger?”

“I tell them your hands are too swollen to wear it,” he admits, taking a hand from her belly to pick up her left one. 

Her smile fades slowly as she glances down, his fingers squeezing a little at the one closest to her pinky. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Very.”

“What about-,” she starts, and before she can glance back, Nico lifts his own left hand in anticipation of what she’s about to ask, the signet ring she had gifted him when she first came overseas, that she hasn’t even noticed for as long as they’ve been together out here, sitting comfortably on his own ring finger. “Oh.”

“I can get you your own, if you want,” he tries, trying not to hold his breath as he makes the suggestion - makes light of it, even, just to test her reaction. Her face is angled forward as she looks down at his finger, and her own hand twists to fiddle with the ring that sits there, so he can’t exactly see what she’s thinking. “I know you said you already had one, but-,”

“Just to sell the story better?” She asks, still looking at his hand. 

“Or because I’m in love with you,” he pouts, his lips moving against her skin as he speaks, anticipating a rejection of sorts - although he still feels the lax press of her spine to his chest. She hasn’t gone rigid, hasn’t recoiled from his touch - their bodies are still merged together in the tight space, and a part of him feels better for it. 

She turns, finally, levelling him with a look that has her gaze flickering between his eyes, like she’s trying to read his mind.

“You better not be proposing to me in the bathtub,” she frowns, “You can’t ask someone for their hand in marriage within 6 feet of a toilet, Nico, that’s definitely an unwritten rule.”

He feels something dissolve in his chest as it bubbles with affection, spreading through his bloodstream and directing itself to every corner of his body - joyous laughter rippling up his throat and spilling out into her neck. 

“Why are you laughing?” She giggles, her body shaking against his in the most delightful way, “I’m dead serious, anywhere but the bathroom, please.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, wanting nothing more than to lean up and press his lips to her beautiful smile. “I’ll bare that in mind.”

“You do that.”

I will, he thinks, taking that as her confirmation.

Not in the bathtub is a far cry from not ever.

Maybe Timo was right - as much as it pains Nico to think - maybe she has always been his Poppy, and maybe, if he can find the right time and place to ask, she always will be. 

Poppy

Last year, Poppy’s summer had felt like the longest of her life.

She had worked all the way through to Mid-July - choosing to work around the summer programmes that were run through the Foundation had taken up most of her time, and she would rather have taken the extra pay than mope around thinking about how everyone else was spending their time off.

Ever since college, she and Nia would spend their weekends together in the summer - and that worked the same last year, with both of them still working in Jersey and having their family nearby. It worked for their other friends too - until their lives away from the group started to take priority, and their group became whittled down to just the two best friends.

Friend group outings had become a rare occurrence, and so when they did happen, they were quite the spectacle - weekend trips down to Atlantic City, or bagging invites to parties the girls really had no business being - like rooftop bars in Manhattan, where a player from the Giants was throwing a party, and their friend Kelsey’s boyfriend, Liam, had somehow secured their names on the list. 

Poppy and Nia always got ready together - reminiscent of their teenage years, blasting music through the speakers in Poppy’s bedroom and letting Nia raid her closet while she did her makeup.

“We’re gonna need to prep Els on how to be cool, she can’t be asking for players to sign her napkin so she can frame it for Jensen.” Nia called as she came out of Poppy’s closet, shrugging into the strappy sleeves of a mini dress she had borrowed, pulling her hair from getting tangled beneath the arms. 

“Elsie’s not coming,” Poppy replied absentmindedly, a small, soft brush sweeping pigment across her eyelid, “It’s just me, you and Kels,”

“What? Why?” Nia had whined, zipping her dress up behind her back. “Did her sitter bail?”

“This stays between me and you, but she’s pregnant again,” Poppy told her, relaying the cliff-notes version of the hour-long conversation she had had with her cousin earlier that day. “So no more girls nights with her for a while.”

“Poor girl,” Nia huffed, falling back onto Poppy’s bed so that she could put her heels on, “I can’t think of anything worse than being pregnant right now, I’m in my prime, I’m not letting anyone dislodge my organs. Nothing is worth that kind of damage.”

“Gross” Poppy shuddered, the thought of having a baby and her age sending literal shivers down her spine. “But same. I’m so far off of being ready to be a parent, it isn’t even funny.”

She had weirdly enough been thinking a lot about what her life was turning out to be around that time - spearing straight for her 25th birthday and feeling the daunting pressure of a looming quarter-life crisis, she had put some thought at least into the traditional stuff.

But babies hadn’t been at the forefront of her mind. 

“Plus, it’s hard enough to find a remotely decent guy to go on one singular date with, never mind raise a child. Elsie got lucky with Jared.”

“Right,” Nia had scoffed half-heartedly, ambling up behind Poppy and finishing off the curls in her hair. There had been a look in her eyes - dismissive and evasive - that had caught Poppy’s attention.

“What’s the look for?”

“Nothing,” Nia shrugged, lips turned down in denial and continuing to work at her best friend’s hair. “Just think that for you of all people, it’s not that hard to find somebody decent.”

Poppy frowned, watching Nia behind her, trying to think of a single guy she had ever dated or spoken to that had garnered her approval.

She had always been supportive of Poppy, knowing that if she were to start something up with a guy, it would be after a lot of thought and meticulous research - Poppy rarely dated, and if she did, it mostly didn’t work because she wasn’t that good at it. She was always so focused on work, and her friends, that trying to make time for anybody outside of all that just felt exhausting. 

Guys usually ended up breaking things off with her, telling her they could tell her heart wasn’t in it, and Nia would always curse them whenever Poppy relayed it back to her, but there was always that look - like she knew something Poppy didn’t.

“You’ve literally watched my every attempt at a relationship crash and burn, Ni,” she narrowed her eyes, “I don’t get what part of my dating life seems easy to you.”

“The part where you have a ready made relationship just waiting for you to press the start button.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nico,” Nia said, like it had been the most obvious answer in the world. 

The last thing Poppy had wanted to think about - again - was Nico.

She had been trying to think of anything but since he had left Jersey, but everything unfortunately was starting to remind her of him, just as they did every other summer.

Walks in the sun, passing places they would always go together - snapping a picture of a coffee from her favourite shop and thinking of who she could send it to instead of him. Running their shared route, soft breeze running through her hair as she jogged through the park, playing music in her headphones that he had once recommended.

It had been hard to shake him off - but she had grown to be good at it over the years.

Nia bringing him up had been new - unexpected - and wasn’t contributing to the routine of forgetting he existed until he would come back to New Jersey in September. 

“The second that one of you makes a move, you’re literally ready to go with the perfect man.”

“I’m not gonna be in a relationship with Nico,” Poppy snickered, trying to find humour in what nonsense her best friend was coming up with. 

She didn’t have a ready to go relationship with Nico Hischier. They were friends. That was all they would ever be.

And not only had she told Nia that a hundred times before, she also knew that Nico had said the same - shrugging off jokes made in front of the two of them and smiling awkwardly at Poppy whenever anyone had dared to make a comment on their friendship being anything other than just that. 

“We don’t even talk for like 4 months out of the year,” Poppy frowned, referring to the routine Nico had adopted over the years, of returning home to Switzerland for the summers, and leaving his friendship with Poppy behind - only communicating through social media likes and odd messages in the same conversation thread within a wider group chat.

She had never really minded it - not to the point of moping - but she had always wished things could be just a little different on that front.

“I don’t get why you guys don’t just text each other,” Nia rolled her eyes as she ran the barrel of the curling iron down the lengths of Poppy’s hair, eyes meeting hers in the reflection of the mirror. “You act like you’re not allowed to cross his mind all summer, it’s stupid, no offence.”

“He deserves a break, Ni,” Poppy had shrugged, “From everything, especially after how the season ended, I’m just a reminder of his life here, and he probably wants to escape that.”

“I don’t think he means you when he says those sorts of things, babe,” she responded, letting the curl drop into her free hand and scrunching it until it cooled down. 

“How did we even get onto this?”

“Because I’ve been looking for an opportunity to bring it up, duh,” Nia jested, “C’mon, just reach out. It doesn’t have to be a text, what was the last thing he posted on his instagram stories? Just reply to that.”

Poppy’s lips twisted, her phone feeling increasingly heavy in her grip as she weighed her options up. 

For as long as she had known him, her and Nico would never really talk over the summer. She lived her life, and he lived his, away from the Devils, away from The Rock, and it had worked well, for the most part.

Sure, a part of her always missed him. A part of her would watch his stories over, would think about what his life in Switzerland looked like, and if she could ever possibly fit into it - but another part, a larger part, would suppress all that. Push her feelings back down until they were nothing - shut away behind some barricaded door in the back of her mind.

It was weird, she thought, how much they flourished in his absence - thoughts she wouldn’t usually spare dedicated to him. Especially now that Nia was bringing it up out of nowhere.

Her perceptive best friend suggesting there could ever have been something more was sparking a flame within her she had long tried to put out. But it wasn’t entirely Nia’s doing - there had been embers floating around her subconscious for a while, now.

She blamed that night in Finnegan’s Bar, not long before he had left.

Cuddled up to him in that booth, comfortable in the lingering silence, the steady beat of his heart below her hand. She had thought, at the end of that night, that something might have been different - and she realised that had probably been why she was thinking about him more that summer.

Poppy unlocked her phone and brought up her Instagram, scrolling through the stories on the home page until she saw his picture. 

“It’ll probably be some workout video, I can’t reply to that, he’s gonna think I’m thirsty.”

“You are,” Nia had jibed, “Pop, honey, you either gotta put up or shut up. If you’re not gonna reach out, I don’t wanna hear any more of your whining about him for the rest of the month.”

“You brought him up,” Poppy frowned, “Please be kinder to me when you have hot tools in your hands, you’re giving me anxiety.”

“Whatever, I’m gonna get another drink before we go, do you want one?”

“I’m good,” Poppy smiled, watching her best friend put the curling iron down safely on the heat-proof mat on her dresser and make her way out of the bedroom and through to the kitchen. 

Her thumb had hovered on her screen for a good minute before she pressed down, biting the bullet and viewing his most recent story with bated breath. 

There were a few of them - it seemed like he was out with friends - probably-drunken selfies and videos of a DJ at some club - but the last photo was the one that caught her attention, properly. 

Nico with his arms around a girl - a gorgeous girl, sharp features, perfect hair, piercing eyes, a killer smile - and his lips pressed to her temple. 

She had let the photo time out before it shrunk away into his private profile, and she had felt like time had stopped in place after that - until the sound of Nia’s heels clicking back down the hallway caught her attention.

“I know you said no but I made mine too strong so I had to pour it out a little and make two,” she had said as she entered the room, Poppy locking her phone and turning it face down before she could see.

“Thanks,” she had accepted the drink with a smile, gulping it down in the hopes that the liquor might have burned through some of the growing ache in her chest. 

“Damn girl,” Nia had scoffed, “Thought you were good?”

“I realised I should drink for two, considering Elsie can’t anymore.”

“Good point! We should both do that, show our solidarity for the cause.”

“Exactly. Getting shit-faced is what she’d want us to do in her honour.”

Nia glanced down at Poppy’s downturned phone - a look Poppy wouldn’t have caught if she wasn’t nervously watching her best friend in the hopes that she, for once in her life, wouldn’t be so perceptive. 

“I’ll have a baby with you.”

Poppy laughed, right from the depths of her chest, tension easing from her shoulders as she shook her head.

“I don’t want a baby,” she declined, rolling her eyes and standing up, “I want to get drunk on rooftop bars with my friends and NFL players and eat as much deli meat and cheese as my body can handle for as long as it can handle it.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

Poppy didn’t know at the time why that picture on Nico's story had felt like a kick to the gut, but she had swallowed down her hurt and smiled, tight lipped, at her best friend.

Getting wasted and forgetting about Nico for the rest of the summer - that had sounded like a plan. 

Looking back on last summer, Poppy barely recognises her old life. Rooftop parties with endless cocktails, tiny dresses and high heels and hair that didn’t fall flat and frizzy the second she blinked too hard at it in the mirror. 

She can barely remember being able to look down at her thighs without being sat down.

The only thing that remains the same is finding time to lounge around on the beach. Growing up, spending her time on Jersey beaches - her family renting a house in Mantoloking most years, or making the trip down to Ocean City and Cape May with her girls when she was old enough - had become a staple for her, and she has been so thankful that it’s something her and Nico share a love of.

She’s adored her summer in Switzerland, so far - as far away from expectations as it might yet have been. 

She hadn’t expected to get such little one-on-one time with Nico, but she can hardly complain - not when his family and friends have all welcomed her with such open arms. It’s something so new to her too, getting to do everything in a group, bonding with more than just Nico, sharing parts of herself and her life beyond what she has only ever shared with him before, and she’s never really felt so at home with such a close-knit family.

She watches sports on the couch with his dad, goes to the grocery store with his mom, plays cards out on the deck with his brother, spends as much time with his sister as she would with Nia back home in Jersey, and she gets Nico to herself at night, or on the rare couple of days in a row they’ll stay in his apartment closer to the city.

But she loves this - being so close with everyone. Loves it so much that she doesn’t really care that it isn’t just her and Nico, she doesn’t really want it to be.

Katja helps her through the rough stages of her pregnancy - sometimes anticipating symptoms before they even come on, sharing tips on how to lessen the constant ache in her stomach, how to sleep easier, what supplements she can take that don’t make her feel nauseous again or bloated and heavy. 

Rino helps too, recalling what he can of his wife’s pregnancies, remembering how Katja could get her back pain to go away by relaxing in a rocking chair with a cushion wedged into her arch, and he had dug the exact one chair the depths of the garage, making sure it was safe after years of misuse and placing it out on the deck in the backyard, right beside what had always been Nico’s chair.

Luca is probably the best language teacher of them all, not that she’d tell Nico that - he’s the only one with the nerve to correct her, doing so with an amused glint in her eye until she gets it perfect and offering her a proud nod when she can finally speak a full sentence - a useful one at that, instead of random words and nicknames.

Nina allows Poppy to keep an essence of her independence - of the girl she was before she was pregnant, or had come back to Switzerland as Nico’s girlfriend. She makes sure Poppy keeps doing things for herself - accompanies her to the salon, to the local mall, gives her valued opinion on different outfits Poppy tried, and what makes her look like a frumpy mom and not her usual self. The two of them trade books between each other, get ready with each other when the group all go out, and it fills a gap that Poppy never even realised she had until she met her - this desire for a big sister, a want for something she never even knew had been ripped away from her before she was ever even born. 

And Nico.

She has all of this, now, because of him.

He’s given her a life so sweet, and so wonderful, and it’s barely even started yet.

Their little girl is still sat comfortably in her stomach, kicking and moving and causing aches all over, but she’s contributed to a world so beautiful that Poppy doesn’t want to remember life before it. 

And he gave it all to her.

He gave her their baby, his family, summer sun in a foreign country, rocking chairs and card games and trips to the mall. 

Trips to the beach with his siblings, who don’t let him forget his status as the youngest, doting on Poppy while teasing him the whole time, breaking off from the group in search of gelato for her, and none for him, because he has two hands and two feet and a wallet bigger than anyone’s to go and get his own.

And that leaves her with just him, wading in the gloriously warm shallow sea, the sun glistening against soft waves, and his hands around her, large and safe, happy and secure - and so in love she hasn’t stopped smiling in weeks.

So infatuated by the man in front of her, that she’d let him do anything, take her anywhere he wants.

“It’s a shame it’s not just the two of us, today,” Nico hums, a large hand stroking up Poppy’s back, sliding under the straps of her bikini top and tugging, teasingly, “Bet I could have convinced you to take this off.”

“We’re in public, perv,” she scoffs, her own palms flat against his chest, “Also, you can’t accuse your own family of cockblocking you.”

“I can when they won’t leave you alone,” he pouts, “My brother and sister never waited on me hand and foot, if I want gelato I have to go get it myself.” He mimics his sisters voice, face scrunching adorably. 

“My heart bleeds for you,” she groans in feigned pity, “I’m carrying precious cargo, and there’s some serious name stakes up for grabs right now.”

“So you’re pitting them against each other for your own benefit?”

“Exactly, you Hischiers love a little healthy competition,” Poppy smiles, back arching as his hand travels down her spine, the curve of her belly pressing right into his below the water. His skin smooth and hot, making her want to press even harder. “You need to up your game, I’ve got a godparent thing going on with some of the boys, too, you wouldn’t believe how much they’re willing to do for you when they think it puts them ahead in the rankings.”

“We’re not leaving our baby girl in the hands of any of those idiots in the unfortunate event of our deaths, Poppy.” Nico chuckles, lifting her with hands lowered to the backs of her thighs so that he can carry her deeper into the water. 

“I know that, and you know that,” she presses a finger to the tip of his nose before her arms curl around his broad shoulders, “But if it means that Timo always brings me madeleines when he’s around, and Jesper and Nic always buy cute baby clothes for us and send me pictures, then who are we to rain on their parade?”

The smile that stretches across Nico’s lips is fond as he asks, “Who’s the front runner?”

“Well, Timo for now, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he agrees in good humour.

“But I’ve managed to convince Jonas he’s in with a good chance after we went to visit him, he kept bringing cut up fruit out to me while I was around the pool.”

“Baby, I cut up that fruit for you, don’t let him take the credit.”

“Oh, well then he’s disqualified for being a liar.”

“Why’s Timo the obvious choice?” He asks, now at a point in the water that if he let Poppy go, she would only just be able to keep her chin above the water, and she clutches on a little tighter.

“He’s an October baby, like me.” The hands around the back of his neck start playing with the ends of his hair, scratching softly at the skin as she presses herself entirely against him. “If anyone’s gonna raise our daughter, it’s going to be a Libra, we’re fair people.”

“Makes complete sense,” he jokes, “Written in the stars.”

“You get it,” she smiles, ignoring his sarcasm entirely. “But I’m waiting for the penny to drop when they realise all the boys back home are gonna want to be in the running. I have big plans for when we get back to Jersey, they’ve all got a lot of catching up to do, Luke’s in with a pretty good chance, you know.”

“You and that kid, I swear,” 

“He’s very precious to me, Nico.”

“Yeah, don’t I know it.”

“Jack on the other hand has dropped way out of contention. We were talking on the phone the other day while you were training and called me Pop-belly. That’s out of line.”

Nico knows that laughing in any way at that is going to earn him some sort of reaction, but he really can’t help the way his lips quiver of their own volition. 

“Yeah, laugh it up,” Poppy scoffs, swatting lightly at his shoulder, “I’ll be the only one laughing when he turns into my own personal smoothie butler when we go back. He has no chance of getting back in my good graces, but I won’t be telling him that.”

“You’re an evil genius.”

“It’s your devil spawn communicating through the womb,” Poppy hums, leaning in to press a proud kiss firmly to the dimple that forms in his cheek when he smiles at her. “I was a good girl before you corrupted me.”

“You were never a good girl,” he smirks, with his voice low, one hand travelling up the back of her thigh until he can pinch at her ass. 

“Watch it, Hischier,” she warns, feeling steady enough in his hold to take an arm from around his neck and stroke the side of her finger along his slightly stubbled jaw. “You’re on thin ice with me already after shaving again, you don’t want to start being mean.”

“Oh, I’m being mean?” He asks, the hand that had pinched at her flesh now slipping beneath the fabric at the top of the back of her thighs. “You’re the one walking around in this bikini and not letting me touch you.”

“We’re in public, people get arrested for doing the things you want to do to me in places like this.”

“Could be worth it,” he shrugs, “You’re forgetting I’m kind of a national treasure, baby, they’d probably let me go with a warning.”

“Yeah, well, can’t risk it. I kind of need you. Plus, I think you’ve already done enough touching, you’ve literally impregnated me.”

“Way to make it sound romantic.” Nico mumbles, leaning to press a kiss to her bare shoulder, nose nudging once more at the thin straps of her bikini that curve around her slender neck. “Could never touch you enough.”

“You’re touching me right now, aren’t you?”

“Not where I want to.” He repositions where her legs are curled around his hips, just to emphasise his point, pulling her tighter around his torso until he can buck up into her and feel her shudder against him. 

“You can touch me wherever you want later,” she promises, her eyes meeting his, speckles of sunlight glistening off the surface of the water and straight into his irises, warming them in a way that shoots heat all the way down her spine.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You better.” She presses a sweet kiss straight to his lips, one hand holding him close as they part, and she kisses him quick again, before saying, “Thank you for cutting up my fruit.”

He smiles, eyes squinting against the sunlight and crinkling in the corners, deep dimples forming in each cheek.

“Thank you for having my baby.”

She giggles, kissing him again, unable to resist muttering, “Thank you for putting a baby in me,” against his lips before he nips at her mouth, moving along her face in a targeted attack as his hands grip firmer at her hips, tickling her until the sound of laughter fills the air around them.

—

Poppy and Nico had made their way out of the water and onto their towels in the shade by the time Nina and Luca had returned with 3 cones of gelato in hand. Luca had already eaten half of his, coffee-flavoured, and Nina had strawberry, handing a cone with a white scoop over to Poppy.

“Fior di latte,” she had smiled sweetly, “Like milk ice, you said that was your favourite.”

“Thank you,” Poppy had blushed, the smallest gesture of her remembering that sending a buzz down her spine. Nico’s putting beside her, and mutterings of how they could have gotten him one, too, soon forgotten when she started to share.

The two of them had gone for a walk to find a bar on the beach front where they could watch soccer, leaving Poppy and Nico cuddled up on their towel, lost in their own world as they shared the cone between them.

She was resting between Nico’s legs, absentmindedly licking at the dessert when a screaming blur had zoomed past them, kicking sand up in their wake as three young children chased each other down to the water.

Poppy thinks that a year ago, she might have pouted about the sand being thrown onto her legs, but she finds herself smiling softly as she reaches back with the cone, waiting for Nico to have a turn taking a bite.

“Do you ever think about having more?” She can tell without looking back at him that he’s speaking around a mouthful of gelato, and even the thought of it makes her chest warm with the rumbles of laughter. 

“Kids?” Poppy asks, and he hums affirmatively in response, “We don’t even have this one yet, babe,”

“I know,” he mutters, and she can hear the smile in his tone as his thumb swipes at the curve of the top her bump, “But do you ever think about what our family might look like in a few years?”

Our family still makes her heart skip a beat, and she finds herself relaxing even further into his embrace - melting, almost, into his chest, warmed by the rays of sun he has been bathing under.

“We probably need to see how difficult this one ends up being before I think about having any more.” She licks quickly at the drip travelling down her thumb before offering the cone back to Nico, who shakes his head as he lowers it to her shoulder, nose nudging against her skin.

“Should have put two in you while I had the chance,” he mumbles, lips pressed into the side of her neck, trailing soft, but purposeful kisses.

“Not how that works, babe,” Poppy chuckles, lifting her chin to give him more space for his ministrations. “Although they do run in my family, my dad’s a twin.”

“There’s two of him?”

“Yeah, him and my uncle Peter. That’s where the whole name thing started in my family.”

“Name thing?” He juts his chin when she looks back, asking for another taste. 

“We’re all P’s,” she frowns as she focuses on directing the cone back toward his mouth, making sure she doesn’t smush it in his face.

“Oli isn’t a P.” The gelato lines his lips messily as he speaks, and her eyes start to crinkle in the corners as she takes him in. How can he be so stupidly pretty with mint choc chip smearing his upper lip?

“Oli’s a fraud,” Poppy chuckles, swiping a thumb against the soft flesh of his mouth, bringing it to her own to clear it of the cold, sticky substance. “His name’s Philip Jr, but people started calling him Lil Phil and it gave him a complex.”

“Poppy, baby, did you start calling him that?”

“No comment.” 

“You get all grumpy when Jack gives you dumb nicknames, and here you are calling your own flesh and blood Lil Phil.”

“I don’t get grumpy,” she pouts, recoiling her hand from his reach when he tries to lean back in for another taste of gelato. 

“You threatened to block him the other day.”

“That’s ‘cause he called me Pop-belly,” she grumbles, “That’s not funny, it’s mean.”

“Not funny at all,” Nico concurs, lips twisting in the corner as he bites back a smile, eyes gleaming as he watches Poppy sit up and face him, fully. Her eyes narrow, gaze zeroing in on where he’s trying not to laugh, again, at the horrific moniker, and her own lips twist with mirth as she shuffles, resting back on her heels, limbs half on the towel and half on the warm sand. 

“We should stick to your thing, when we’re picking a name for Cheeto,” she hums, meeting his eye as her tongue swipes against the cone, watching his eyelids grow heavier as he focuses on the movement of her lips. “4 letters, no chance of funny nicknames, no chance of people spelling it wrong on birthday cards,” she reaches out for him to get the taste he had been chasing before, and just as his lips press to the frozen substance, she adds, “You all have such pretty names, too. Like Luca.”

Poppy shouldn’t like the darkness that flashes across his eyes when his jealousy flares up, shouldn’t want to push his buttons to make it happen, but she can’t help herself - her favourite pastime all summer has been making Nico think she has a crush on his brother.

It’s so stupid, so childish but so so fun.

It had started off lighthearted enough - her first time meeting Luca, she had been a little knocked back by his presence - ruggedly handsome where she might usually have considered Nico softer, but there were definite similarities. And she wasn’t exactly attracted to him, but she had been flustered - obviously so - and it’s Nico’s own fault for making his notice of that fact so obvious - brows furrowed, his grip on her hand tightening, and a persistent urge to be present whenever Poppy hung around his brother.

She blames the fact that she misses that teasing aspect of their relationship - when their conversations were based off of sarcasm and inescapable charm - for how she continued to press his buttons over the summer. It’s hard to maintain their old snark when her hormones are all out whack, and all she wants is for him to get his clothes off and press her to the nearest surface at any given moment. He constantly has the upper hand, and she’s not exactly used to that being a part of their dynamic.

Teasing him about Luca kills two birds with one stone - she gets her fun, and she elicits that possessive part of him that he somehow locks away every time he gets eyes on her belly, that she can see him restraining in order to handle her with care.

“You’re not funny,” he huffs, swiping the melting gelato from her grip and taking an exasperated lick of the sides, not realising how adorable he looks making little swipes with his tongue when he’s trying to look annoyed.

“I’m dead serious, your brother’s a hunk.”

“Mohn,” he sighs, “I’ll dump this in the sand right now, and I know how much you want to eat this cone.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” she relents as she giggles, reaching to grasp at his arm where he’s holding it away from her, fingertips stroking teasingly to make him give in. “I don’t think your brother is hot.”

“Thank you,” he smiles, offering the gelato back to her.

“Your dad on the other hand.”

“Poppy,” he warns.

“Kidding! I’m kidding,” she laughs, shuffling forward and back between his parted legs, “You’re the only man for me, baby, I swear.”

“I better be,” he pouts, guiding her back into the space he leaves, where she had been cuddled up before, where he misses the press of her body between his thighs. “I booked a table at that Italian place you liked the other week for tonight,” he tells her, voice lowered as one hand falls to her waist, and the other reaches up to push her hair behind her ear and cup at her cheek, “And it’s under my name, so you can’t ditch me for my brother or you get no tiramisu for dessert.”

Her mouth drops at the threat, spare hand reaching up to grip at his shoulder. “I promise I’ll never love another man in my life.”

She says it with a tone so serious that he can’t help but laugh, and her lips tremble too as she watches him, rolling his eyes with affection and looking away so that he doesn’t entirely give him.

She doesn’t really think it’s much of a joke, though.

There isn’t a single person on the planet who could make her feel like this - so happy, so warm, so content. 

She might never love anyone like she loves Nico.

Except for maybe their daughter. And whatever other family he wants to give her in a few years. 

Poppy can’t quite figure out why the thought of going out for dinner alone with Nico is making her nervous.

They’re in a relationship, have been for around 3 months now, and she’s literally carrying his child, but as he stands behind her in the apartment, hands sliding torturously slow up her spine as he zips up her dress and making eye contact with her in the mirror’s reflection, she starts to feel her heart race. 

She’s trying not to be quieter than usual as they walk hand in hand in the warm summer evening air, Nico guiding her down the streets that are comfortingly familiar to him, and that are starting to feel more like home every day to her, too. 

It doesn’t help that he looks so good too, hair grown out and pushed back out of his face, a clean shave - as much as she had grumbled about that, she can’t deny how gorgeous he looks - a loose black shirt and baggy linen trousers, fancy watch clutched around his wrist.

And he makes her feel good about how she looks, too, despite flashes of insecurity hitting her over the past few weeks. Their afternoon spent between the sheets when they had returned from the beach, Nico not being able to get enough of her, and whispering sweet nothings and sexy mutterings into her skin as they finally took advantage of some much needed privacy.

He had chosen her dress for her, had strapped her slightly heeled sandals onto her feet with kisses pressed to her calves, and she thinks it’s all the attention he’s given her over the past 24 hours that has her feeling what she can only describe as high.

It’s what has her stopping him at the corner before the restaurant, seeing the perfect place to prop her phone up on a nearby wall so that she can capture the moment - the two of them looking so perfect that she wants her daughter to see, wants to print it out and tape it into her memory book to show her just how in love and happy her mommy and daddy are.

“Can we take a photo?” 

“You want me to take one of you?” He asks, stopping as she starts to adjust her camera settings on her phone, adding the timer so she can leave her phone perched at a good angle. 

“No, I want one together. So we can show Cheeto how hot her parents were.”

Nico chuckles as she places her phone on the side and pulls him to a good distance, holding her in his arms and smiling down at her as she holds back onto him - the two of them repeating a couple times with different poses before Poppy has a nice little collection of photos, and they can carry on toward the restaurant.

She swipes through and shows them to him as they walk together, and she sends them straight to him so he can have them for himself. 

“Is that hard launch material for your instagram?” He asks as she zooms in on one of them, Poppy’s arms circled around his waist, the biggest, toothiest grin on her face and her eyes scrunched shut.

“I’m gonna put them in Cheeto’s pregnancy book,” Poppy hums, not answering him directly. “Remind me to keep a card or something from the restaurant, she loves their pasta. We can come back when she’s older.”

Her nerves have increased tenfold at the mere mention of that godforsaken app.

Her instagram had never been a big deal before - private since the day she started her account, she only really ever had friends from school and work on there. She never posted in search of likes or validation, just to share little updates on her life, but she had to delete it at the start of summer once the requests to follow her started flooding in.

The first barrage had been easy to ignore, but once the zeros started adding up, and the requests went over 10,000, she figured that just getting rid of it would do her a world of good.

Anybody that needed to be updated, she could just text anyway. It wasn’t a big deal, which is why she hasn’t told Nico yet.

She doesn’t want to worry him with the fact that her whole feed had ended up on Twitter somehow anyway - that the thought of posting anything new, and it ending up shared by one of her existing followers to an intrusive gossip account freaks her out. She doesn’t have the energy to whittle down who might be leaking her stuff, so deleting the app entirely and counting the rest of her privacy as a loss had felt like the safest option.

And it’s not like she misses it.

It’s also not like she cares that much about people knowing about her and Nico - she’d scream from the rooftops about him if she could - but the lack of control scares her a little.

It’s all so invasive - seeing herself cropped out of group pictures, with threads of discourse about her, her life, her relationship with Nico and the rest of the team. Everything twisted so far out of context she starts to question her own reality. 

She had sought advice from Nina about the whole thing, and the two of them had agreed that between themselves, they could figure things out - documenting their summer just for them, without stressing Nico out about what was happening behind the scenes. And she’s grateful, at least, that she has someone like Nina in her corner - who understands what it feels like, to an extent.

Telling Nico would just make him feel guilty, or, even worse, apologise for something that isn’t his fault, and so all she can really do is avoid it altogether. 

She hardly posted on there anyway.

“We should probably figure out her name, soon, you know,” 

Poppy snaps out of her thoughts to look up at him, twisting his lips nervously as he checks on her.

“We can’t call her Cheeto forever.”

“We can. That’s her name.”

Nico chuckles as he guides are across the street with a hand on her back, the restaurant now in sight - a small, family business, not too fancy, the kind with the most delicious recipes past down generations and made to perfection.

She loves places like this - much prefers it to fancier joints - where they can sit side by side at a small table and bask in the intimacy of it all.

An older gentleman smiles warmly at the two of them when they walk in hand in hand, and guides them to a table in the outdoor section at the back, a lit candle and a single rose in the middle of the set-up, and the starry night sky twinkling above them.

She knows exactly why she’s nervous.

It’s the first date she’s been on in a long time - her first official date with Nico, period, and it takes her back to being a little younger, when she first started going on dates, first started opening up to the idea of sharing herself with anybody else. It’s daunting, even if he is already the love of her life. Even if she’s pregnant with his child, integrated into his family, and returning to Jersey in a matter of weeks to the apartment they now share.

He helps her into her seat, pulling his around from the opposite side of the table so they can sit together how she likes, his hand immediately finding where her legs cross beneath the table and stroking at her bare skin. The waiter hands the two of them menus, and Nico asks if he can bring water with ice for the table before he nods and departs, leaving them alone.

“This is really nice, baby,” she smiles, gratefully, eyes roaming over how soft his features look out in the dimmed light, chocolate irises twinkling as they reflect the flickering flame in the centre of the table. 

“Only the best for my girls,” he says lowly, and the two of them sit and smile dopily at one another and making light conversation until the waiter returns. Nico says something that Poppy hasn’t quite learned yet in his language, only just about making out the word pen before Nico takes one from the man with an appreciative thank you before he leaves again. He reaches across the table for the napkins that sit beneath their cutlery, sliding one in front of her before writing on the one in front of himself behind his other hand, hiding whatever he’s doing until he folds the paper.

“I want you to write down the name that’s on the top of your list. Then we’re gonna close our eyes and shuffle them up and pick one.”

“How do you know I have a list?” She frowns, taking the pen when he offers it over to her.

“Because you make a list for the pros and cons of what takeout we’re ordering, Poppy. Of course you have a list to name our daughter.”

She rolls her eyes, covering her napkin as she pauses with a hovered pen. 

She does have a list. And she has a definitive number one.

It hadn’t even been an option before the summer, but she’s found herself imagining the name more and more over the past few weeks. Embroidered on blankets, written into birthday cards for the boys, etched into a personalised wooden bookcase like the kind she had as a little girl.

Nico is right. She isn’t going to be Cheeto forever.

“You know,” Poppy leans back to hide her paper as she writes her name down, her legs angled toward his as his hand strokes softly again up her calf, his napkin clutched tight in his other hand. “Most people don’t pick out baby names on their first date.”

“This isn’t our first date,” he scoffs, eyes narrowing at her as she folds her own. “We’ve been on dates before.”

“Name one.” Her head tilts as she challenges him, eyes meeting his as she waits for him to come up with something. 

“All those times we grabbed dinner together back in Jersey,”

“Not dates.”

“There were several candles lit, Poppy.” Nico frowns, and Poppy’s lips twist as the crease between his eyebrows deepens as he thinks back on it. “All those times we got food before or after your scans, and movie nights at your place with takeout-,”

“Not dates. You have to specifically ask for those to have been dates, they were more like hang-outs.” She repeats, a hand reaching out to place itself on his knee, thumb rubbing against the linen of his pants, countering before he can bite back, “But that’s okay, I like this being our first. We’re making our own order.”

“What like getting pregnant before we’re in a relationship?”

“Exactly. Structure is boring. I like the idea of waking up and you deciding today’s the day to put me in your will and tomorrow’s the day to learn my middle name.”

“I thought you didn’t have a middle name.”

Poppy smiles, close-lipped and big, like she’s holding in laughter as she reaches up to caress his face. She kind of doesn’t want to burst his bubble - sweet, naive but well-intentioned Nico, who thinks he knows her like the back of his hand - but she wants to prove her point, more. “Giselle. After my Nanna Gigi.” 

“Poppy Giselle Jensen?” He asks, mouth agape as she nods. “You’re telling me I knocked you up before I even knew your full name?”

“Way to make it sound romantic,” she mocks, just as he had, earlier on the beach, tucking his hair behind his ear and shuffling a little in her seat, legs tangling even more with his under the table. “I think it’s cool that we get to learn new things about each other all the time.” 

“What have you learned about me?” His voice drops an octave, thumb stroking at her skin in an attempt to distract, but she isn’t giving in to him.

“I spent a week with your mom and sister while you were training out in Tenerife, babe, I know all your secrets from all the photo albums we went through.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah,” she smirks, “Little blonde baby Nico with his big, pretty brown eyes and his bowl cut. I saw everything.”

“That’s not fair,” he pouts, grasping at her ankle, “You have the upper hand.”

“You saw me with my head in a toilet bowl for like 3 months straight, I think we’re even.”

“Speaking of,” he places his folded napkin down onto the table and slides it beside hers, “Close your eyes, I’ll mix them up.”

Poppy closes her eyes, but pouts a little as she hears him shuffle the napkins around. There was no speaking of - she was talking about puking. That wasn’t necessarily speaking of their daughter. He’s just deflecting attention from his bowl cut, she thinks, but she has extensive plans for revisiting that one. Preferably with backup, when their daughter is old enough to join in.

“Alright, now I’m gonna close my eyes, and you mix them up.”

She peeks her eyes open to see his scrunched closed, and smiles to herself as she mixes the two identically folded napkins on the table, nudging him with her knee to let him know when she’s finished.

Her heart starts to pound all of a sudden when his eyes flutter open, those perfect brown eyes darting straight to hers, and she holds her breath in anticipation.

“You pick.” He tells her, sliding the two napkins toward her.

She does so without looking, unfolding it in her lap and holding it against her palm so that he can’t see.

Her lips twist as she eyes the familiar name, a sense of victory swirling in her gut until the reality of it crashes down on her, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

That isn’t her handwriting.

“It means ray of sunlight in Persian,” Nico tells her, peeking down at the name written in the palm of her hands, already knowing from her reaction which napkin she had chosen. “Or beautiful girl.”

“Like you know anything in Persian,” she scoffs, “It’s just your brother and sister’s names combined.”

Nico frowns, “What?” He whines in denial, a poor attempt at lying that automatically makes Poppy’s lips turn at the corners, “How would you even think of that? I’ll let you know, I did extensive research, okay, I-,”

Poppy opens the other napkin up where it sits on the surface of the table, the exact same name scrawled in the centre in her handwriting.

Lina.

Nico smiles, slow but big, cheeks dimpling and eyes crinkling, and Poppy feels those nerves in her stomach swirl into something else, entirely. Her hands start to shake and her eyes start to water as soon as his gaze meets hers, pride shining through every pore of his features.

“That’s fate, Mohn,” he breathes, leaning closer, his chair shuffling against the floor as he reaches out to caress her face softly, palms pressed at either side of her jaw. “We wrote the same name.”

“I know,” she whispers, feeling a tear slip out that he catches immediately with the pad of his thumb. 

“You wanna name her after my brother and sister?”

“I do.” She nods. Of course she does.

Not only has she seen how much they mean to Nico over the last couple of months, but they’ve started to mean as much to her, too - providing her with a sibling bond she’s never really experienced with Oli, one of unconditional love and support, admiration and affection.

She wants her daughter to embody that too.

To be a beacon of love.

A ray of sunlight.

“Lina Cheeto Hischier.”

Nico’s dimpled smile turns into laughter that erupts from the depths of his belly, and fills Poppy with elation, her body turning to jelly as he pulls her in until their lips press together, giggling against each others mouths until Nico feels the need to part, his head leaning down toward Poppy’s bump, where their daughter lays once again, butt to the front, ready to cause her mother a night of grief. 

“Don’t worry Lina-bug,” he whispers, eyes drifting up to meet Poppy’s, her heart soaring at the sweet, definitely pre-meditated nickname. “We’ll work on the middle name.”

“Maybe something Persian,” Poppy scoffs, her own neck craning to speak toward her stomach, her hand falling to stroke it at the side, “Considering your daddy’s such an expert, all of a sudden.”

“I thought you might need convincing,” he chuckles, “I promise I looked it up.”

He leans in to kiss her again.

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips, “So much.”

“I love you more.”

Next Chapter

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

[marclvsf1]

LITTLE PILOT // Kimi Raikkonen

Kimi Raikkonen x wife!Reader

NOTA DEL AUTOR: mucho más corto que los demás, pero tenía ganas de escribir algo esponjoso sobre Kimi y aquí está.

(El inglés no es mi primer idioma, lo siento si hay errores de ortografía, las críticas constructivas son bienvenidas).

You met Kimi in 2014 during a trip you took to visit friends and family in Finland.

You had arranged to meet your group of friends that you both had in common for a drink, when to your surprise he was there too. You knew who he was, you had heard about him hundreds of times, both on television and from your friends, but you had never met him in the same place before.

And that day, more to your luck than your misfortune, the only place left was next to him, so you had no choice but to sit next to him and try to engage him in conversation.

To your surprise, you hit it off quite well from the very first moment, and he wasn't the ice man he was portrayed to be on social media and TV.

Just three days after that meeting, you received a message from a number you hadn't added inviting you to go to his house, a number that a couple of messages later you discovered belonged to Kimi, and you decided to accept his invitation, since at that moment you had nothing to lose, and if it went wrong at least you would have the anecdote.

But after many meetings and many messages shared even late at night when you should be sleeping, you decided to make your relationship official.

And now, 10 years and many experiences later, you were at the biggest karting track in Switzerland waiting for your eldest son, whom you had just a year after you made your relationship official, to make his karting debut.

Ever since your not-so-little boy was only 3 years old, it was clear to him that he wanted to be like daddy and become a professional racing driver when he grew up. So Kimi wasted no time, and when he was only 4 years old he gave him his first kart, which he had outgrown, but which you still kept in your house as a souvenir.

You were in one of the parenting zones waiting for your little one's race to start, when your now-husband's voice brought you out of your thoughts.

-Calm down, honey, he's well trained, nothing will happen to him.-

-I am calm-

-Your grip on my arm doesn't prove the same thing," he said mockingly.-

When he uttered those words you turned your gaze to where he had mentioned, realising that you were gripping his arm with much more force than normal, as your knuckles were completely white from the force you had been exerting.

-Sorry,- you said, removing your hand from his arm with flushed cheeks. -

-I don't want you to apologise for being excited about your son,- he said, putting his arm around your shoulders and then intertwining your hands, placing a kiss on yours,-Although it doesn't seem like it, I understand you, and I even think I'm more nervous than you are.-

You were about to answer him, when the sound of the engines starting up made you turn your gaze towards the track, or rather towards a certain kart bearing the number 91.

The qualifying laps had started with your son in ninth position, but as the laps progressed he was overtaking his rivals as naturally as if it was something he did every day. He had certainly inherited his father's natural talent, both on and off the track.

The qualifying laps were over, and the race was about to start with your son in fourth position, and although he wasn't in the best position, he had a good chance of making it onto the podium, and you knew that if he worked hard, with his talent and dedication, he could do it.

The race started with your son moving up a position at the start corner, bringing a couple of tears to your eyes at his determination.

The race went on for most of the time with the first three positions the same, when in one corner the boy in front of your son made a mistake, which your son took advantage of to move into second place, a position in which he finished the race.

You wiped away the tears that had sprung to your eyes with the back of your hand as you watched your little one step onto the podium and receive his trophy.

-We are proud of you,- you said, hugging your son as he came back to you.

-Your mother is right, we are proud of you little boy.  And we always will be no matter what you decide to do when you're older,- said your husband, joining you in your embrace.

-we love you little one-

-I love you too isät-

[csuitebitches]

Guide to Building a Classic Wardrobe

I was asked a long time ago by an anon for a guide to build a wardrobe. This style caters to someone mature, slightly conservative, NOT fashionnova-esque, something that will last a long time in all fashion seasons, provided you look after your items well. I live in a relatively hot climate and the coldest temperature I’ve experienced when living in a place is like 10 degree Celsius, so I will admit that I am not very well versed with living in cold climates for a prolonged period of time (I don’t think a 2 week trip to Switzerland in the summer counts as “cold”).

I have purposely built with keeping neutrals in mind. I’ve learned that its best to first build a neutral coloured wardrobe in mind, then start adding colour to it. You might find this wardrobe boring, but if you work in a corporate environment/ somewhere where you can’t showcase too much colour or creativity/ if you come from a relatively conservative/ high profile-but-not-entertainment /modest culture, you’ll find this useful.

ALWAYS keep an eye on the material of the item you are buying. If you have to buy a sweater and you live in a cold climate, buy cashmere. Yes, it will be expensive, but it will keep you warm and last longer. If you live in a hot climate, invest in tops and dresses made out of pure cotton. Material plays a huge role in the climate you live in.

I do not endorse fast fashion or over-consumerism but I understand that it is affordable. I would therefore recommend you to buy things carefully and with consideration, not just for the sake of the environment but for your wallet. It’s better to buy 1 quality item than 10 horribly made, short-lasting items.

Never mix more than 3 colours in your outfit at a time. That’s something my father taught me, and I recommend you stick to it, especially if you’re new to building a serious wardrobe.

Lastly, do not be enthralled by what influencers buy or wear. I can guarantee you that the clothes they wear on Instagram aren’t even theirs half the time. Don’t fall into the trap of micro trends.

(Pictures for this post have been sourced from Pinterest).

Underwear

Nude bra + thong/ undie

Black bra + thong/ undie

White bra + thong/ undie

Strapless bra (black)

Strapless bra (nude)

2 sexy bra sets (optional, I have these in red, pink, blue)

Nipple pads

Tops

White silk cami

Black silk cami

White plain tee

Black plain tee

White tank

Black tank

Beige tank (or whatever suits your complexion - brown/ nude)

White shirt

Black shirt (satin/ silk)

Blue shirt

Pants

Navy blue trousers

Wine/ red high waisted trousers

White trousers

Beige trousers

Black trousers

Straight leg jeans (blue)

Another pair of jeans (not ripped, blue)

White jeans, straight leg/ mom cut

Skirts

White

Black

Red

Beige (a checked print, like Burberry)

2 maxi skirts

1 pencil skirt in black (work appropriate)

Shorts

Denim (not distressed)

Tailored white shorts

Tailored blue shorts

Tailored black shorts

Formal attire

1 maxi dress - red/ black/ a neutral colour

White/ black vest and trouser set

Everyday dresses

Knit dress in black/ cream/ brown (long)

2 summer dresses, short

White peasant dress

Outer wear

Leather jacket in black/ brown

1 cardigan in black/ white

A shawl/ silk scarf

Denim jacket

Long trench coat in camel/ brown/ beige

Blazer in white/ navy blue/ black

Sweater in black/ white/ red

Shoes

Black/ white/ brown leather boots

White/ silver heels

Black heels

Gold heels

Mules in black

Home slippers

Running shoes

White sneakers

Accessories

1 brown/ black leather bag

1 tote bag

1 clutch for parties

Hair clips

Tights/ leggings - sheer and opaque in black

Socks

Jewellery

Diamond studs

Everyday pendant

2-3 simple bracelets/ bangles in silver/ gold

Signet rings in gold

Chunky hoops

Devices

Hair straightener

Hairdryer/ Blow brush (i prefer the blow dry brush)

30 mm curling wand (for long, big curls)

[pedripics]

Pedri: "I think I'm a lot more dangerous as a playmaker"

(Mundo Deportivo - July 3, 2024)

De la Fuente said in the run-up to the European Championship that Pedri had to find himself. And he seems to have found himself.

"I'm feeling very well, with much more confidence, with a lot of desire and above all with the desire to continue in this dream of winning the Euro, which I think we have the team for it."

In order to find yourself again, you have had to make several changes.

"Yes, I changed my nutrition, my physical preparation, I started to do pilates and I've done a lot of different things to try to find something that suits me. I think I've found it."

And some ideas that Ferran passed on to you. Soak in ice-cold water for one minute a day.

"Yes, although I don't think it's really necessary here because it's so cold. In the mornings we always go into very cold water for one minute. It's good to wake up, to wake you up and to get you ready for the day."

It's been a long time since you've been with the national team. Has this change of context been good for you?

"Above all to get away from it all. It's true that in Barcelona I had injuries and relapses, but I wanted to come to the national team, to be here in a training camp with my teammates. I feel very comfortable and I'm getting better every day."

Playing more vertical.

"That's right. A lot of coaches throughout my short career have asked me to do that. They've told me to get into the box a lot more, that I have to score goals and give assists. In that position it's much easier. Also, here I can play with Morata, who fixes the centre-backs very well. For a '10', having a striker like that makes everything much easier. It's a spectacle to play with Morata."

Which attacking midfielders does he look at?

"There are players who may not play in that position but have the qualities of a playmaker, like Musiala, a player who may play as a winger but can play inside. Or Wirtz himself. They are players who have been playing at a very high level for many years and you learn from them."

Musiala and Wirtz. Both will be opponents on Friday.

"They are having a spectacular Eurocup, especially Musiala. Wirtz is also playing very well. Let's hope we can neutralise them in the best possible way. It's clear that our midfield is also very strong and I think we have the best player in the world in that position, Rodri."

Called to be, surely, the stars of the next decade. Pedri, Nico, Lamine, Wirtz, Musiala… They will face each other for the first time. Are you looking forward to it?

"Yes, it's going to be a match where the neutral spectator, the one who doesn't belong to either team, is going to have a great time. It's going to be amazing. It's going to be a match with a lot of magic, a lot of dribbling, a lot of possession. I think it's going to be a hard-fought match and hopefully we'll take it."

Dani Olmo and Pedri also complement each other on the pitch

"Yes, at the last European Championship and at the World Cup we met on the pitch many times.He is a player with whom I enjoy playing together and I hope we can do the same at this European Championship."

You must have heard about the curse of the host at the training camp.Spain have never beaten the host country.

"I've always said that there's a first time for everything and hopefully this is it. It's a curse that sometimes scares people, but not us. It motivates us a little bit more to try to put an end to that."

Beyond the cliché of an early final, are the two best teams in this European Championship facing each other?

"These are two teams that have been very consistent, both in the group stage and in the round of 16. We've always played the same way, the same football, scoring goals and winning games a bit more calmly. That's why it's going to be a spectacular game."

Is there any other team that has caught your eye?

"Switzerland. We knew beforehand that they were a difficult team, but they are having a spectacular tournament and they are a tough opponent."

Their group is usually made up of Fermín, Lamine, Nico, Ferran, Dani Olmo… At 21 years of age, he's already one of the veterans.

"I get into the rondos before Nico because I'm from November, imagine that. We are always together. With Ferran and Dani Olmo we like to banter, we like to joke around. But when the match starts, the jokes are over and we play."

[denissvasiljevs1999]

The latest interview with Deniss is paywalled but I hope sharing a summary of this very long text is OK as he raises many important points. If you can, consider supporting the website by subscribing to it for €1.45 and then cancelling the subscription before you're charged again.

(Bear in mind this is based on machine translation but I used two different translators to compare the output and double checked things.)

1. One of the main themes of the interview is the distinction between a "sportsman" and an "athlete". Winning is the main focus for sportsmen, but athletes have a broader outlook where self-improvement and the culture of sport are more valuable. Victory is ephemeral and may in fact hinder your progress because you'll be under more pressure.

2. Deniss thinks the scoring system isn't working properly and PCSs aren't evaluated correctly. He disapproves of skaters focusing all their energy on jumping difficulty at the expense of developing other areas but it's something encouraged by the system that doesn't adequately reward other skills.

3. He has trained in multiple countries and has experienced a variety of coaching methods. Stephane Lambiel is the best coach for him because he gives him a lot of freedom. He thinks many other coaches tell skaters what to do but he values independent thinking and being given the right tools and environment by the coaches.

4. When he got seriously injured in 2016, everyone else told him to retire but the team in Switzerland helped him recover. His team actually consists of people from different countries focusing on different things because diverse perspectives are valuable (he mentioned e.g. Ghislain Briand, who lives in Canada).

5. In a similar vein, he'd like to see Latvian clubs collaborating rather than competing with one another domestically to best prepare skaters to represent the country internationally.

6. Some coaches lack the knowledge of other fields and some want to squeeze everything out of their skaters to fulfil their own ambitions. He's glad we're moving towards more ethical and athlete-focused coaching.

7. There's little money in figure skating worldwide now and he thinks it's because of the greed of the management. He gets financial support and earns money from shows but he reinvests it in his skating career.

8. Not only are skaters underfunded but also often cold at rinks and skating on inadequate ice. Such conditions lead to underperforming, injuries and other health issues. Rinks shouldn't cater only to hockey players but also to figure skaters.

9. He's proud of his longevity because it's his third Olympic cycle. He feels he's a veteran at 25 and is pushing the limits of his body. At the same time, he thinks he's improving and actually he's working on a new quad but he'll only reveal which one when he masters it.

10. Figure skating is very time consuming and you can't do it part time but eventually he'd like to have a family of his own. If his child wants to be a figure skater, he may actually cry because of the toll it takes on you but he'll support them, which will require mental preparation.

11. He wouldn't like to do only one thing in life and he wants to do something productive for society in the future. Sport is not everything and the world is much bigger than it.

[for-the-folk]

So, You Wanna Know About?: The Evil Eye

The concept of the “evil eye” exists in virtually every culture worldwide, as do amulets such as the nazar and hamsa. It's a fundamental part of most folk groups' magic and culture, which is why we use it as a symbol for our server. But what do we know about this concept and the symbols and practices surrounding it? Let’s take a second and explore.

What Exactly Is The Evil Eye?

In simplest terms, the evil eye is “a curse transmitted through a malicious glare, usually one inspired by envy.” [1] It's believed that this glare can cause misfortune, illness, injury, death, and general misery. [3] Pregnant women, infants, young children, and animals are thought to be especially susceptible. [4]

The Evil Eye’s First Appearance

Historians are unsure of the exact date the evil eye and amulets used to ward them off were invented, however, we can find examples going as far back as ancient Mesopotamia. Texts have been found in Ugarit (located in modern-day Syria) attesting to the concept until roughly 1180 BC. [2]  According to Dr Nese Yildiran, “The earliest version of eye amulets goes back to 3,300 BC … The amulets had been excavated in Tell Brak, one of the oldest cities of Mesopotamia – modern-day Syria. They were in the form of some abstract alabaster idols made with incised eyes.” [1]

The Evil Eye Travels

Various things across history such as trade, travel, colonization, and immigration have caused the evil eye to travel the world. It spread through the SWANA region at first, but soon traveled to all continents worldwide: “[The evil eye has] occurred in ancient Greece and Rome, in Jewish, Islamic, Buddhist, and Hindu traditions ... [and in] Indigenous, peasant, and other folk societies.” [4] Historians have found it difficult to trace exact lines of transmission of the idea, but it notably seemed to spread rapidly among the common folk or working class. [5] It wasn't long before its presence became known across all continents, though it has always varied across time and space. For example “In Roman times, not only were individuals considered to possess the power of the evil eye but whole tribes…were believed to be transmitters of the evil eye.” [6] This is very different from how the evil eye exists in the current regions of the previous Roman Empire, as these tribes no longer exist.

It Came With The Amulets!

One of the earliest amulets associated with the evil eye is the nazar. Its name comes from the Arabic “‏نَظَر‎” (naðˤar) meaning “sight,” with many other languages adopting this term or creating their own. [7] The blue eye-shaped bead most commonly associated with this particular amulet is “made of a mixture of molten glass, iron, copper, water, and salt, ingredients that are thought to shield people from evil.” [8] Its blue color may be because “blue eyes are relatively rare [in the SWANA region], so the ancients believed that people with light eyes, particularly blue eyes, could curse you with just one look. This belief is so ancient, even the Assyrians had turquoise and blue-eye amulets.” [9] A similar amulet adopted from the nazar is the hamsa, similarly originating in the SWANA region. [10] The two have become perhaps the most widespread and well-known amulets, though they are certainly not the only ones.

Evil Eye Across Cultures & Religions

NOTE: this is not an exhaustive list, but a jumping off point. 

Judaism: The evil eye can be found across various Jewish literature, from the Tanakh to the Talmud, and even books like Pikeri Avot. [11] It’s known best as the “ayin hara” which is Hebrew for the evil eye, though it may have different names across diaspora (for example, in Jewish-Spanish languages like Ladino it might be known as “Mal de Ojo”) [12] There are various customs to protect one from the evil eye across the Jewish diaspora, such as neckbands worn by boys for their brit milah, in the regions of Alsace, Southern Germany, and Switzerland just to name one. [13] One of our Jewish server members, Yosef, says “I'm Jewish and have been all my life ... my family is eastern European and we have gone to orthodox shul and (no) evil eye and other related symbols are prevalent in my family's practice along with the practice of my synagogues ... as such I constantly carry around the symbol”

Islam: The evil eye as a concept in Islam, known as the “al-ʽayn” is common. It's believed to destroy one's good fortune or cause illness. [14] Various phrases including “Mashallah” (God has willed it) are used to ward off the evil eye – “The imperativeness of warding this all too evident evil eye off is common among local communities. Not only did the absence of a “mashallah” tempt fate but it is also believed certain individuals have the power to conjure up the dark forces of the evil eye.” [15]

Italy: The evil eye in Italian is known as the “mal’occhio.” [16] In some regions, the cornicello ("little horn") is an amulet used to ward off the evil eye. It comes from Naples and it’s usually made of red coral and pepper shaped. [17] According to Antonio Pagliarulo, “some families, depending on the region of Italy from which they come, will pin the amulet to a baby's clothing either immediately before or immediately after his or her baptism.” [18]

Ireland: In Ireland, the evil eye is known as “Droch-shúil.” [19] There are a few various Irish folktales about the presence of the evil eye that warn of its dangers. One example is the tale of King Balor. The tale goes that “Balor was a king of the Formorians, the ancient inhabitants of Ireland (before the coming of the Tuatha Dé Danann). He is often described as a giant with a huge eye in the middle of his forehead. This eye brought death and destruction [onto] anyone he cast his gaze upon. He had gained this power from peering into a cauldron that contained a powerful spell that was being created by some druids. The vapors from the cauldron got into his eye when he looked inside which gave him the power of his deathly gaze. The most memorable instance of Balor using his eye is the story of his death at the battle of Maigh Tuireadh. In this famous battle between the Formorians and the Tuatha Dé Danann, Balor fell in battle at the hands of his own grandson, the pan-Celtic god Lugh, when he thrust his spear (or sling depending on the telling) through the eye of the giant. His eye was blown out the back of his head, turning his deadly gaze on his own men, destroying the forces of the Formorians. A piece of Dindseanchas (meaning lore of places) tells us that the place where his head fell and burned a hole in the ground, later filled with water and became known as “Lough na Suil” or “The Lake of the Eye”. Interestingly, this lake disappears every few years when it drains into a sinkhole. Local mythology says that this happens to ensure that the atrocities of the battle may never be forgotten.”  [20]

Germany: In German, the evil eye is known as the “Bölser Blick”, something that is cured by a variety of methods such as red string, prayer, salt, iron, and incense. [21]

Poland: In Poland the evil eye is called "złe oko" or "złe spojrzenie." [23] In some regions, they use amulets known as "czarownica" which are charms often made from herbs, metals, or stones, or specific gestures believed to ward off the evil eye. In many Polish homes, you might find them hanging on the walls. A ‘czarownica’ might also be a necklace with a pendant crafted from amber, which is believed to ward off negative energy. [22] There are also folk tales about the evil eye, such as “an archaic Polish folk tale that tells of a man whose gaze was such a potent carrier of the curse that he resorted to cutting out his own eyes rather than continuing to spread misfortune to his loved ones” [1]

Russia: In Russian the evil eye is called "дурной глаз" or just "сглаз." [23] Some Russians ward off the evil eye by bathing in running water, which carries the negativity away. Fire is also used, with young people jumping over a campfire to remove bad energy. Carrying salt or pinning the fabric of your clothing are also other simple ways to ward off the evil eye. [24]

Mexico: In Mexican culture, the evil eye (el ojo) is thought to be especially prevalent during November around the time of Dia de los Muertos, with children being particularly susceptible. There are various ways a child may get the evil eye such as from a stare of a drunk or angry person, or a person who is "caloroso," or overheated from working out in a hot environment such as under the sun or cooking over a hot stove. [25] Some may use an ojo de venado, or “eye of the deer” as a protective charm, which is only effective if “worn as an amulet around the neck at all times.” [26] As a quote from one of our staff members, Ezekiel: “I was raised in a very Hispanic area so we all wore evil eye bracelets most of the time woven from the flea market… In Mexico or some parts of Latin America, it is called El mal de ojo and it is believed that different colored evil eyes do different things.”

Rroma: The concept of the evil eye also exists amongst the Rromani people. For Rroma in Slovakia, the belief in jakhendar is prevalent, often being diagnosed and cured with jagalo paňi, or ‘coal water’ [27] Rroma in places like Brno are also thought to be particularly susceptible to the evil eye, leading to communities to find members to help protect themselves. According to scholar Eva Figurová, “This role, instead, is appointed to the village shepherd, blacksmith, or other person perceived by the community as gifted with the ability to heal, cure, and ward off the effects of negative forces, whether intentionally or not. Nowadays, among the Roma in Brno, the chanting of the zoči is a common ritual that does not require the presence of a specialist.” [28]

India: In many parts of India, people use a nazar battu to ward off the evil eye, or the buri nazar. [29] Other methods of warding off the evil eye include hanging a drishti bommai [30], mothers spitting on their children [31], or marking them with a black mark on the cheek. [32]

Ethiopia: In Ethiopian culture, the evil eye is known as the "buda." [33] It is thought to be wielded by certain people (i.e. metalworkers) and warded off by amulets created by a debtera, or unordained priest. [34]

Conclusion

This blog post only begins to touch the surface when it comes to the evil eye. The history across time and space is so expensive one can truly dedicate their entire lives to studying and still not know everything there is to know. We sincerely hope that we have provided some perspective and gave some jumping off points for further exploration.

Sources & Further Reading:

Hargitai, Quinn (2018). “The strange power of the ‘evil eye’”. BBC. https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20180216-the-strange-power-of-the-evil-eye. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024. 

Pardee, Dennis (2002). "VIII. INCANTATIONS: RS 22.225: The Attack of the Evil Eye and a Counterattack". Writings from the Ancient World: Ritual and Cult at Ugarit (vol. 10). Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. pp. 161–166. 

Ross, C (2010). "Hypothesis:The Electrophysiological Basis of the Evil Eye Belief". Anthropology of Consciousness. 21: 47–57. 

Britannica, The Editors of Encyclopaedia. "evil eye". Encyclopedia Britannica, 28 Oct. 2024, https://www.britannica.com/topic/evil-eye. Accessed 3 November 2024.

Gershman, Boris (2014). The Economic Origins of the Evil Eye Belief. American University (Washington, D.C.). Online resource. https://doi.org/10.57912/23845272.v1

Elworthy, Frederick Thomas (1895). The Evil Eye: An Account of this Ancient and Widespread Superstition. J. Murray.

WICC Authors, (2023). Nazar (amulet). https://wicc2023.org/nazar-amulet/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Williams, Victoria (2016). Celebrating Life Customs Around the World: From Baby Showers to Funerlan, p.344.

Lynn, Heather (2019). Evil Archaeology, p.167

Bernasek, Lisa. (2008) “Artistry of the Everyday: Beauty and Craftsmanship in Berber Art” Volume 2 of Peabody Museum collections. Harvard University Press. pg 12. ISBN 978-0-87365-405-0

Ulmer, Rivka (1994). KTAV Publishing House, Inc. (ed.). The evil eye in the Bible and in rabbinic literature. KTAV Publishing House. p. 176. ISBN 978-0-88125-463-1.

Jewitches Blog. “The Evil Eye.” Jewitches, 18 Apr. 2023, jewitches.com/blogs/blog/the-evil-eye. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Birth Culture. Jewish Testimonies from Rural Switzerland and Environs (in German and English). Basel: Naomi Lubrich. 2022. pp. 35–37. 

Evil Eye - Oxford Islamic Studies Online.” Archive.org, 2018, web.archive.org/web/20180825110529/www.oxfordislamicstudies.com/article/opr/t125/e597. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

“Mashallah: What It Means, When to Say It and Why You Should.” The National, 22 May 2013, www.thenationalnews.com/lifestyle/mashallah-what-it-means-when-to-say-it-and-why-you-should-1.264001. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

“Mal’occhio | a brief understanding (and offering).” Radici Siciliane, 17 Nov. 2020, www.radicisiciliane.com/blog/malocchio-a-brief-understanding-and-offering. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Melissi, Paolo. The Cornicello: A Traditional Lucky Charm from Naples. 18 June 2021, italian-traditions.com/cornicello-traditional-lucky-charm-from-naples/.  Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Pagliarulo, Antonio. The Evil Eye. Red Wheel/Weiser, 2023. ISBN 978-1-63341-294-1

“Irish Superstitions: The Evil Eye, Fairy Forts, and Lucky Charms.” IrishHistory.com, 14 May 2023, www.irishhistory.com/myths-legends/folk-tales-superstitions/irish-superstitions-the-evil-eye-fairy-forts-and-lucky-charms/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

“The Evil Eye.” Ireland’s Folklore and Traditions, 12 July 2017, irishfolklore.wordpress.com/2017/07/12/the-evil-eye/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Katharina, Anneke. “Boser Blick: Evil Eye in German Folk Magic.” Instagram.com, 2024, www.instagram.com/p/CrO8IIeLMgu/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&img_index=1. Accessed 3 Nov. 2024.

Tobey, Julie. “The Meaning of the Evil Eye in Polish Culture.” Polish Culture NYC -, 7 June 2024, www.polishculture-nyc.org/the-meaning-of-the-evil-eye-in-polish-culture/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Haroush, Alissa. “42 Names for the Evil Eye and Where Did the Evil Eye Amulet Originate.” Alef Bet by Paula, Mar. 2021, www.alefbet.com/blogs/blog/42-names-for-the-evil-eye-and-where-did-the-evil-eye-amulet-originate. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Sorokina, Anna. “How Russians Protect Themselves from Evil Spirits.” Russia Beyond, 3 Nov. 2024, www.rbth.com/lifestyle/331213-protect-from-evil-russia. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Mexico, Na’atik. “El Mal de Ojo, the Evil Eye.” Na’atik Language & Culture Institute, 26 May 2023, naatikmexico.org/blog/el-mal-de-ojo-the-evil-eye. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

“The Evil Eye.” The Atlantic, 1 Oct. 1965, www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1965/10/the-evil-eye/659833/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Hajská, Markéta. “The evil eye – Jakhendar” Factsheets on Romani Culture. https://rm.coe.int/factsheets-on-romani-culture-2-3-the-evil-eye-jakhendar/1680aac373 

FIGUROVÁ, Eva. Contemporary signs of magic in the everyday life of Roma minority in the selected areas of Brno, focusing on magical acts like “pokerování” and evil eye. In Individual and Society [Človek a spoločnosť], 2022, Vol. 25, Iss. 3. https://doi.org/10.31577/cas.2022.03.609 

Stanley A. Wolpert, Encyclopedia of India, Volume 1, Charles Scribner & Sons, 2005, ISBN 9780684313498

Kannan, Shalini. “Surprises and Superstitions in Rural Tamil Nadu.” Milaap.org, Milaap, 15 Apr. 2016, milaap.org/stories/surprises-and-superstitions-in-rural-tamil-nadu. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

John Abbott, Indian ritual and belief: the keys of power, Usha, 1984

George Vensus A. (2008). Paths to The Divine: Ancient and Indian (Volume 12 of Indian philosophical studies). Council for Research in Values and Philosophy, USA. ISBN 1565182480. pp. 399.

Turner, John W. "Ethiopian Orthodox Christianity: Faith and practices". A Country Study: Ethiopia Archived 2012-09-10 at the Wayback Machine. Thomas P. Ofcansky and LaVerle Berry, eds. Washington: Library of Congress Federal Research Division, 1991.

Finneran, Niall. "Ethiopian Evil Eye Belief and the Magical Symbolism of Iron Working. Archived 2012-07-12 at the Wayback Machine" Folklore, Vol. 114, 2003.

[foggysilverfeathers]

Life Series Advent Calendar #2

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24

For this advent calendar I’m planning to do a lot of art sharing one of my favourite Christmas traditions: biscuits! Christmas biscuits are a big thing in Switzerland, with plenty of different classics that will be baked in batches over the Christmas tin, with many discussions and opinions on the best ones!

Chräbli, the biscuits above, are one of my personal favourites, so it’s no surprise that they should be assigned to one of my favourite life series members, Gem. But more importantly, I thought that the traditional ‘branch’ shape kind of looks like the antlers so often associated with her,

Also bonus: chräbli we baked today:

This is also partly inspired by @/orbbo ‘s Halloween trick-or-treating art so go check that out because it’s really cool!!

[numinousmysteries]

Dancing the Tandava (4/10)

[on Ao3] @today-in-fic

Geneva, Switzerland 2023

Hannah forgets William’s parents were coming to visit until she hears knocking on the door. She’s been up all night in a panic and is so tightly wound that the sound of the knock makes her whole body flinch.

Last night, she and William had been watching a movie on his laptop, both lying face down in his bed, propped up on their elbows. He has a nearly encyclopedic knowledge of old sci-fi and horror B-movies, and, after learning she’d never seen Plan 9 From Outer Space or Attack of the 50-Foot Woman, he’s made it his personal mission to expand her horizons. As aspiring physicists, they’ve made a game out of poking holes in the films' plots, but she can tell he genuinely enjoyed them.

They were midway through The Thing when William got a call. Dr. Bellona needed his assistance immediately for a special project at the large hadron collider. She heard William agree to come into the lab even though it didn’t make any sense. They were both research interns for Dr. Farber, whose office was next door to Bellona’s. Besides, interns aren’t certified or trained to work directly on the collider, and they’re never urgently needed at 9 p.m.

“Bellona?” she asked. “Didn’t you say you saw him doing something weird near the Shiva statue on your way home today?”

“Yeah,” William replied, getting out of bed. “I guess now I can ask him what he was up to.”

Hannah had a bad feeling. She bit her lower lip and tried to resist the impulse to pull him back onto the bed as he rose up.

She watched as he pulled a thick navy sweater over his gray t-shirt. A thin line of his toned abdomen peeked out as he lifted up his arms and she forced herself to look away. William is her best friend, the first person she’d ever met who could keep up with her in debates about loop quantum gravity. He’s also undeniably hot: Tall and lean, with piercing blue eyes, and a strong jawline. She teases him for being a jock because he played varsity basketball and baseball in high school, but she secretly appreciates his body as much as his mind.

They’re only friends, though—and roommates and co-workers but nothing more. They don’t talk about their dating lives, although based on how much time he spends either with her or at the lab she can’t imagine his is any more exciting than her own non-existent one. Sure, she feels an electric jolt whenever his hand grazes hers, but William Mulder could probably get any girl he wants. Well, maybe if he toned down his own nerdiness a little.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, leaving her alone on his bed. Hannah groaned in protest but she could already hear the apartment door shutting behind him.

She waited up for him to return. An hour, then two, then three. She texted and called him but he didn’t respond. Finally at 1 a.m. she pulled a puffy coat over her pajamas, slipped on a pair of boots, and marched down to the ATLAS facility at CERN where she and William worked. She tapped her key card to the sensor at the door but it lit up red and didn’t open. When it failed two more times, she knocked at the door, getting the attention of a security guard she hadn’t seen before.

“Can I help you?” he asked, poking his head out the door into the cold night air.

“Um, I left something at my desk. I just wanted to come pick it up.”

“You’ll have to come back in the morning,” the security guard said sternly. “There’s been an incident and the entire facility is on lockdown.”

“An incident?” she asked, scrunching her brow in concern. It seemed too quiet for there to have been an accident at the facility. There were no sirens or crowds assembled. “What kind of incident?”

“Not sure,” he said. “But someone’s gone missing in the collider tunnel.”

“Missing?” she asked. It wasn’t possible. The large hadron collider was housed in an underground tunnel made of reinforced concrete. It was huge, nearly 17 miles in circumference, but entirely enclosed. There was nowhere for someone to go missing.

The guard just shrugged and started pulling the door closed.

“Wait—” she said, yanking the glass door back open. “Who is it?”

“An intern, they think,” he said. Then he shut the door.

Hannah’s bad feeling got a lot worse.

Back at the apartment, she spent the rest of the night texting other interns in their cohort to see if anyone knew what had happened, but everyone was either asleep or equally clueless.

When she heard the knock at the door she perked up, thinking it was William and he’d forgotten his keys. She didn’t expect to see his parents there instead. She met them once before, when she stayed at their home for a weekend over the summer. William’s mother, from whom he inherited his eyes and coloring, was a doctor and scientist, the kind of accomplished and serious woman she hoped to one day become herself. His father, who looked nearly exactly like an older version of William, was funny and, as William warned, did tell some strange stories but she found them fascinating. Hannah sat aghast as Mr. Mulder recalled a liver-eating monster, a telekinetic killer, and satanic PTA members. William and his mom only rolled their eyes, clearly having heard (or, in Dr. Scully’s case, lived through) these tales before.

Now, she watches as William’s mother’s face drops when she tells her he’s gone.

“Where is he?” his father shouts, cutting through her shock.

Hannah tries to answer, but she only starts crying harder. Dr. Scully drapes an arm around her and leads her to the living room sofa. The coffee table is cluttered with her and William’s books and notebooks and the remains of their takeout dinner from the night before. They would have cleaned up after the movie but then William was called away.

Hannah buries her head in her hands, trying to slow her hyperventilation, as Wlliam’s mom sits down next to her, rubbing her back. She’s ashamed to be such an emotional mess in front of them, but she can’t help it.

“Mulder, why don’t you get Hannah a glass of water?” Dr. Scully asks softly. William’s parents call each other by their last names, a holdover from their days as FBI partners. He said it was embarrassing, but she thinks it’s sweet.

Mulder returns with the water and Hannah sips it slowly.

“Hannah, can you tell us what happened?” Dr. Scully asks gently, still with a calming hand on her back.

Hannah takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Scully,” she says.

“Dana,” William’s mom interrupts. “You can call me Dana.”

“Okay,” Hannah continues. “He was called in last night to assist on a project with the large hadron collider, but he never came back. I went down to our worksite and they told me he’d gone missing inside the LHC tunnel. But that’s impossible. The tunnel is fully enclosed.”

She pauses to wipe the tears off her face with her sweatshirt sleeve. “I think this physicist Dr. Bellona has something to do with it. William saw him yesterday leading some sort of ritual outside the Shiva statue and then he was the one who called William last night.”

“What Shiva statue?” Mulder asks, his eyes darting from Hannah to his wife.

“Um, there’s a statue of the Hindu god Shiva right behind our building. Apparently, Dr. Bellona was chanting and scattering something there with these other people and he kind of stared down William when he saw him.”

“We have to go see that statue,” Mulder says, already headed to the door. His frenetic energy reminds her of William when he’s excited about a new idea.

“Is that okay, Hannah?” William’s mom asks. “Can you come show it to us?”

She guides them outside to a courtyard in between her apartment and the neighboring office building. There, on a granite podium, stands a giant brass model of a majestic Shiva dancing in a fiery halo. He has one foot on the back of a smaller being, and the other raised in the air in celebration.

“This is it,” she says. “It was a gift from the Indian government. What do you think Bellona was doing here?”

Mulder steps forward to examine the statue.

“I don’t know,” he says, rubbing his fingers along the engraved plaque on its base. “But I saw this same symbol earlier this morning in the taxi that took us here from the airport. The driver had a medallion hanging from his mirror that looked exactly like this.”

“It’s probably a coincidence,” Dana says. “But I have to admit, it’s odd. Why is there a religious statue at a scientific center?”

“There are parallels between the story of Shiva dancing the universe into existence and the movement of subatomic particles,” Hannah answers. As a self-proclaimed atheist, she’d asked herself the same question upon coming to CERN, confident that all answers could be found in science. But the more she learns about particle physics, the more mysterious the world seems. “Carl Sagan called Shiva’s cosmic dance the most elegant and sublime representation of the creation of the universe.”

“She quotes Sagan,” Mulder says, smiling. “No wonder William likes you so much.”

Hannah blushes. Glancing down, she spots a green, trifoliate leaf on the pebbled ground. It’s bright with two smaller leaflets and a longer, wider one in the middle, and stands out against the gray of the stones on the walkway. As she looks around on the ground, she sees a few more dispersed around the statue.

“Look at this,” she says, bending down to pick it up. “Maybe Bellona was scattering leaves.”

“Let me see,” Dana says, reaching over to take the leaf from Hannah. “It looks like it’s from a citrus plant, possibly tropical. I don’t think it’s from anything that grows around here.”

“Hannah!” a French-accented voice calls out and all three of them turn around.

It’s Emmanuelle Toussaint, a young French engineer who works in the LHC control center. Hannah had met her at a cocktail reception for women at CERN and the two had become friendly. If there really was an incident with the LHC, Emanuelle would know about it.

“Did you hear what happened?” Emmanuelle asks, striding over to the statue near Hannah and William’s parents.

“To William?” Hannah blurts out desperately.

Emmanuelle looks confused. “No,” she says. “The LHC operated at 15 TeV last night.”

“That’s physically impossible,” Hannah says under her breath.

You don’t need to tell me that,” Emanuelle responds excitedly. “I saw it with my own eyes from the control center, though. We’ve calibrated and recalibrated every detector and we’re still getting the same reading.”

“Scully, I might need some translating here,” Mulder leans over to Dana to whisper.

“I don’t think I understand what’s going on either,” she says.

“The collider has a maximum total collision energy of 14 TeV, or teraelectronvolts per beam. It’s only ever operated at 13 TeV, though, and achieving 15 TeV would require physical upgrades that are years away,” Hannah explains.

“Sorry,” she continues. “Emmanuelle, these are William’s parents, and,” she pauses. “William went missing last night.”

“Oh my goodness,” Emmanuelle gasps, bringing a thin hand to her mouth. “That was him with Dr. Bellona.”

“What happened?” Dana asks.

“Dr. Bellona was the one running the experiment last night. There’s footage of him inside the tunnel working on a calibration with someone else. I didn’t realize it was William with him. Then, there was a power surge and we lost connection to the cameras. When they came back online, Bellona was still there but William wasn’t.”

“Where could he have gone?” Hannah asks.

“I don’t know,” Emmanuelle continues. “But Dr. Bellona called the control room and wanted us to begin the collider run. We obviously can’t do that if anyone is still in the tunnel and, since we didn’t see William exit, we couldn’t start the collider. We locked down the facility and had the technicians do a full sweep of the tunnel. No one was there. Bellona insisted William had exited with him and had gone home, and since there was no sign of him in the tunnel, we figured he was telling the truth. That’s when we started the experiment and the LHC hit 15 TeV.”

“But William didn’t come home,” Hannah says quietly.

“What would happen if the collider ran while he was inside the tunnel?” Mulder asks.

Hannah glances at Emmanuelle. They both know it would be instantly fatal for anyone to be exposed to the high voltage and intense magnetic fields generated by a run of the particle accelerator. Hannah’s heart thumps hard in her chest.

“It is impossible,” Emmanuelle says, shaking her head. “We would never run an experiment with anyone inside. There are too many safety protocols in place. And no one was inside at the time. I don’t know where William went, but I can promise you he was not in the tunnel.”

“I think we need to talk to this Dr. Bellona,” says Dana.

[tilbageidanmark]

The 1,289 movies I saw in 2024...

This is my fourth 'End of Year' recap. In January 2021, during the Covid lock-down, I began logging the many films that I watch every day, just to keep track. In the beginning I jotted a line or two about each, only to create a record. But then I started adding longer notes and more elaborate impressions, and before I knew it, I've got a 'Film Project' on my hands.

The obsessive project mushroomed. In the course of these four years, I watched and reviewed a total of 4,126 movies; 885 in 2021, 954 in 2022, 998 in 2023, and a ridiculous number of 1,289 movies this last year.

And it seems that I'm just getting started.

As I wrote before, I owe an apology to nobody for my indulgence. I derive great pleasure from discovering daily the best movies ever made, and I enjoy even more the process of thinking about them and coming up with my own specific takes, if I can. As an un-accomplished 'Creator', composing short reviews fills me with just the right amount of self-fulfillment. The fact that I am blessed with the physical and financial ability to enjoy this type of existence right now, at the end of my own life and while civilization collapses all around us, is not lost on me either.

The project, like the many others I created before it, is purely personal, and is a strict 'labor of love'. Watching a movie today is an individual experience [Except of one visit, I haven't been to a theater in many years], and maintaining this blog (which hardly anybody visits), is done as a form of mental masturbation; I do it every day because I like it a lot, and because it doesn't hurt anybody. I described my background before, so there's no need to repeat it here.

So here are some generalities, with a dozen 'Best-Of' samples below.

I've made a concerted effort to watch more films helmed by women directors - 215 in all (but only 16% of the total). Next year I will increase that number.

I like good documentaries, and of the 1,289 movies, 170 were documentaries. However, most of them were not that great. Surprisingly, only 99 were repeat films that I had watched before – it felt as if the number would be higher. I also started watching many more short films (5 to 40 minutes), and I plan focusing even more on short films in the coming year.

As I'm moving away from Hollywood-type blockbuster fair, I saw 737 “Foreign” films (read: Not American) which were 57% of the total. Next year I will be sure to increase that ratio too.

Here is the break-down by country:

From the UK (108)

From France (106)

From Canada (44)

From Japan (40)

From Denmark (25)

From "Czechoslovakia" (24)

From Germany (21)

From Sweden (20)

From Italy & "Russia" (18 each)

From Israel & Poland (17 each)

From Brazil (16)

From Australia, Iran & Ireland (13 each)

From Iceland, Korea & Spain (12 each)

From Hungary (11)

From Turkey (10)

The rest were films from China, Romania, The Netherlands, Argentina, India, Yugoslavia, Belgium, Finland, Latvia, Mexico, Chile, Croatia, Norway, Austria, Cuba, Egypt, Greece, Morocco, Palestine, Scotland, Switzerland, Hong Kong, New Zealand, Nigeria, Slovenia, Bulgaria, Georgia, Haiti, Lebanon, Philippines, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Afghanistan, Armenia, Colombia, Cyprus, Ethiopia, Indonesia, Jordan, Paraguay, Portugal, Senegal, Sudan, Taiwan, Thailand, Tunisia and Wales. [But unlike 2023, no films in Babylonian this year...]

Many of these 1,293 movies were terrible. But only 23 of them I simply couldn't finish. They included: Otto Preminger's 'Exodus', Troma Studio's 'Poultrygeist', Polanski's 1970 'A day at the beach', The Japanese 'Patisserie Coin de rue', Bob Fosse 'All that Jazz', M. Night Shyamalan 'The happening', Gene Hackman's 'Heartbreakers', Elaine May 'A new leaf', Etc. Many of the others were boring, tedious, stupid. YMMV.

Next year I will also start keeping track of the genres, which I haven't done up to now. I may try new things, but there are some popular genres I generally stir away from: Superheros, horror, franchise, fantasy. There were six A.I.-generated films that I saw this year. I predict that in 2025 we will have the first 'good' A.I. features.

I wish I had signed up to Letterboxd at the start. It would have made sorting the list so much easier. But I've been dropping out of all social media (reddit and tumblr are the only ones still standing), and I don't plan on starting on a new platform.

I only felt the urge to "rate" 40% of the movies I saw (527), and of the ones that I did rate, there were 18 which I designated “Best”, and 78 to which I gave the 10/10 score. 'Best' for me usually meant that it offered a 'very' strong emotional reaction.

40 years ago I studied film at Copenhagen University, but it's only during these last few years that I've become pretty knowledgeable about the overall history of the cinema. It is therefore my favorite experience today to come across a movie I never even heard of, maybe from a different time and place, which knocks me completely over.

And so, here are a few of the less obvious gems which I enjoyed the most this year. Many more on the blog. Check them all out if you want.

The films of Icelandic Hlynur Pálmason (all but 'Winter brothers'). My favorite was 'White, white day', a masterful feat of slow film making, with unusual choices in its subtle direction. A policeman grieves for his wife who died in a car accident. The man renovates a house, takes care of his cute granddaughter, and then, (like ‘The Descendants’), he discovers that before she died, his beloved wife had an affair with some guy. A stunning story of heartbreak, resignation and acceptance. The Trailer.

Nuri Bilge Ceylan 8 films (I still haven't seen his 'Casaba' and 'Clouds of May'). My favorite of his: 'About Dry Grasses' which plays for over 3 hours in the desolate, snow-covered mountains of Eastern Anatolia. Like Mads Mikkelsen in 'The Hunt’, a teacher in a small village is being falsely accused of improper behavior toward a 14-year-old girl. But the slow and meandering story embraces other themes as well, of longing, of truth seeking, of weariness, complacency and contempt. With a delusional, self centered man and the two females he misunderstands and maligns. It includes one shocking 'break the 4th wall’ moment (at 2:05:00) which illustrates that nothing we think and believe in is true. The trailer.

'A brand new life' (2009), a heart-breaking Korean story, based on the director’s personal life. A sweet 9-year-old girl is abandoned by her father, who one day and without any warning drops her off at a Catholic orphanage in the countryside and leaves. Life is suddenly too painful for her. With the cutest little girl, who has to deal with life’s harshest lessons. A relatable debut feature, it uses the simplest and purest film language. It's similar to other tragic stories about innocence lost; Carla Simón’s ‘Summer 1993’, the French film 'Ponette’, and the Irish 'The Quiet Girl’ from last year, all with the same kind spirit and sad understatements. The trailer.

'The Last Repair Shop', winner of last year's Oscar for Best Documentary Short. A quiet story about a shop that maintains and repairs the 80,000 musical instruments used by students of the Los Angeles school district. It’s about mending broken things so they can be whole again, performed by people who were also broken, but are now whole. Similar to and even better than the 2017 Oscar nominee 'Joe’s Violin'.

'Ága', my first Bulgarian film, but it plays somewhere in Yakutsk, south of the Russian arctic circle. An isolated old Inuit couple lives alone in a yurt on the tundra. Slow and spiritual, their lives unfold in the most unobtrusive way, it feels like a documentary. But the simplicity is deceiving, this is film-making of the highest grade, and once Mahler 5th is introduced on a small transistor radio, it’s transcendental. The emptiness touched me deeply. (I should watch it again!). The trailer.

'Symphony No. 42' by Hungarian animator Réka Bucsi. It consists of 47 short & whimsical vignettes, without any rhyme or rhythm; A farmer fills a cow with milk until it overflows, a zoo elephant draws a “Help me” sign on a canvas, a UFO sucks all the fish from the ocean, wolves party hard to 'La Bamba’, an angry man throws a pie at a penguin, two cowboys holding blue balloons watch a tumbleweed rolls by, a big naked woman cuddle with a seal, etc. etc. Bucsi made it before Don Hertzfeldt’s 'World of tomorrow’ and even before 'Echo', my favorite Rúnar Rúnarsson’s. 10 perfect minutes of surrealist chaos.

'Shirkers', a 2018 documentary. Sandi Tan was an avant-garde teenage punker when she set out to make Singapore’s first New Wave road movie in 1992, together with 2 female friends and a middle aged mentor. But when the shooting was over, this 'mentor’ collected the 72 canisters of completed film as well as all supportive materials, and disappeared. For 20 years, Sandi and friends could not figure out what had happened, and eventually gave up on their groundbreaking work. This documentary pieces together the mystery, telling about the process of making the original movie, the consequences of losing - and finding it again - after all this time. Absolutely tremendous. The trailer.

'Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains' is young Chinese prodigy Gu Xiaogang's debut feature. A slow epic saga (2.5 long hours) of a large family struggling during four seasons through life’s ups and down in this provincial city. It’s a metaphor for a classic scroll painting from the 14 century, and it is apparently only the first chapter in an upcoming trilogy. A stupendous, slow-moving masterpiece told in a magnificent style, and half a dozen transcendental set pieces. The trailer.

The short jazzy documentaries of Dutch Bert Haanstra, especially 'Glass' (1958), the first Oscar win for The Netherlands, and 'Zoo', which was made 3 years later.

'Apollo 11', a documentary by Todd Douglas Miller. An exhilarating re-telling of the moon landing from 2019. Perfectly crisp and emotionally laid out, without any bullshit narration, talking heads interviews or irritating recreations. Just jaw-dropping photography which puts you in the middle of the action. The trailer.

I’ve always loved Buñuel’s last 3 films, maybe because they were so easy to watch. The fire and brimstone of his youth were distilled into accessible, vivid tableaux. Re-watching his 'The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie', (or “Six friends and the impossible dinner”) was just delightful: You nearly feel sorry for these poor 1-procenters, who can’t find a decent place to eat in. Their illogical dreams dredge out their childhood traumas, and there’s no explanations to anything that happens. It was the New 4K trailer which drew me back.

The magical work of Australian stop-motion animator Adam Elliot. Especially, 'Mary and Max'. A weirdly adult 'Wallace and Gromit', a dark and tragic clay figure story, voiced by Philip Seymour Hoffman and Toni Collette. Two damaged and unfortunate souls connect by becoming pen pals; A lonely Australian 8-year-old girl with an ugly birthmark on her forehead, and an obese Jewish New Yorker with Asperger’s. It encompasses 20 years of outlandish long-distance emotions which ends with the acknowledgment of friendship. The trailer.

'Pirosmani' (1969), my first Georgian masterpiece which was not made by Sergei Parajanov. It’s an awe-inspiring biography of Nikolai Pirosmanashvíli. He was a self-taught, naïve Georgian painter who lived during Vincent van Gogh’s time, and like him, died destitute and unappreciated by his piers, only to find prominence decades after his death. (Japanese Trailer here.) It’s an absorbing and visually-stunning film, composed of rural tableaux and primitive folk setting, a mixture of Henri Rousseau, Gauguin, Édouard Manet, Bruegel and Jodorowsky. A sad, slow and formal composition, full of sublime pathos and simplicity.

'For the hungry boy' (2018), my all-time favorite Paul Thomas Anderson work, even more than his “Phantom Thread”, out of which these discarded shots were collected. Vicki Krieps is a major crush. The score is Jonny Greenwood’s “House of Woodcock” from the movie. I've seen it at least 15 times since October.

'Nostalgia for the light' (2010), my first film by Chilean Patricio Guzmán. His life-long work had been occupied with the Chilean coup d'état and the collective scars suffered by the people of Chile to this day. This beautiful documentary starts with examining the gigantic telescopic installations at the Atacama desert, used by astronomers to discover the origins of the cosmos. He then segues into the story the 60,000 'disappeared’, who were imprisoned in large concentration camps in the same area, and then murdered without a trace. A group of wives and sisters have been roving for decades now the same barren area, searching for bone fragments of their loved one. So both archaeologists and astronomers are looking for clues about the past. The trailer.

A woman interviewed in one continued shot: A small 1993 French masterpiece 'Emilie Muller'. A young woman arrives for her first ever audition where she’s asked to show the contents of her handbag. As soon as I finished watching it, I had to watch it again, and then a third time.

“Wow! So, are there any last words you would like to say, about this whole thing?” Not really.

Here is a Google spreadsheet with the output of all 4 years.

Please become one of the few regular people who visit this blog. I post 20-30 new film reviews every Monday morning, Copenhagen time. Bookmark and interact.

Arigato gozaimasu.

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

I will be ur new srk mutual 🫶 which one of his films should I watch first?

such a beautiful ask 🥺

if you're in the mood for a romance movie

1. Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge: it's as old as me and still running in a theatre after all these years. it's literally that movie. the biggest reason he's called the king of romance and there wasn't even a kissing scene in this. hasn't aged. beautiful soundtrack. and the infamous mustard field

2. My Name is Khan: 14th feb 2010, 3pm show in a single screen theatre and i had the time of my life watching my first srk movie in "talkies". i was so happy i was gonna cry finally in a theatre and wept i did. he was so fucking good in this kajol's comeback directed by karan johar. lots of tears. and some more. 9/11 background but it's a love story still. he should have won the national award and that jury will end up in hell someday :)

3. Veer-Zaara: romeo and juliet's tragedy is nothing compared to veer-zaara's. the songs the music the acting the actors the director the writer everything was just so good. a lot of people don't know this but eye acting was actually invented by shah rukh khan

4. Dil to Pagal Hai: a musical about a musical the soundtrack slayyyyed then it slayyyys now. underrated on current tumblr but i think i am starting to prefer that because DTPH is mine. i never had a crush on shahrukh but if any character of his ever came close it was from this movie. one of his sexiest characters imo. did i mention the songs were way too good.

5. Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham: shahrukh really cries like children do. who knew weeping can have range. great songs great cast. kajol in orange. srk in see-through shirts. it's actually a family drama but it's fun also his mother in the movie has a superpower.

6. Om Shanti Om: no bollywood movie has ever bollywooded the way OSO did. love friendship reincarnation hero heroine villain nepotism revenge action comedy great music (and one more thing but that's a huge spoiler) it really just had everything. one of the finest masala movies ever made. it's tumblr's favourite as it should be. also this movie is how i learnt san francisco rhymes with disco

if you're in the mood for thrillers

7. Baazigar: the directors were having trouble finding the lead actor because nobody wanted to take the risk then srk told the producer that nobody can play this role as good as he can and he became the first actor in the history of filmfare to win the best actor award after playing a negative role. a cult classic.

8. Darr: it's the 90s it's the hero heroine villain era when the audiences think the people who play villains are bad people irl and dislike them. sunny deol an already established "hero" is the hero of the movie and srk is the villain a scary stalker and what happened was that the audiences really loved him instead. (my sister got scared of him enough that she started crying in the theatre and my parents had to leave mid-movie a wuss). something that couldn't have been achieved by just anyone except the future king of bollywood. oh lots of switzerland. also the legendary director of the movie kinda adopted srk and started casting him in every movie of his afterwards.

9. Fan: about an obsessed fan (not me just tbc). underrated af.

about brothers and mothers

10. Karan-Arjun: family evil rich guy poor villagers a mother's wait reincarnation revenge very 90s. used to watch it every time it was on tv. also it was shot in my state 😎

11. Main Hoon Na: a cool srk entry. action comedy friendships a whole college adopting a grown up as their big bro beautiful sarees the best dressed character who then got a make-over 🥲 (the only one flaw of the movie) a villain (which was getting rare in the 2000s) the best ending credits ever and whatnot. it was farah khan's directorial debut and she brought fun back to bollywood with her bestie <3

the only coming-of-age movie he did

12. Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa: i was younger than 4 srk wasn't my favourite "hero" yet but his character from this movie was my first blorbo. my murderous rage awakened for him. the first character i ever related to was also from this movie. gangster uncle 🤜🏾🤛🏾 me. srk was so baby (he was like 28) there was also ra ra rasputin in this. srk loves this movie so do i.

[formulakatya]

I’LL JUST LET YOU LIVE | PIERRE GASLY

“there’s things i wanna say to you but i’ll just let you live”

not my gif :)

pairing: pierre gasly x reader

summary: having broken up with your childhood best friend and boyfriend of 2 years, you struggle to move on and resort to writing letters.

notes: loosely based off ‘cinnamon girl’ by lana del rey, hence the title. a little sloppy and messy which i apologise for, none of my writing seem to be up to satisfaction recently and i still don’t really know how to edit my work :(

warnings: none, just a little angsty

—

dear pierre,

sometimes, i look back at our relationship only to find memories where i can’t remember anything but pure joy. i look back at the pictures and videos and i can only see genuine love.

maybe you just do happen to be an excellent actor and were pretending all this while, or maybe you just stopped loving me and decided to pretend that you still did so that i would be able to prepare for my exams in peace. but whatever the reason, none of them are exactly better than the other.

i hate how france and the streets of rouen remind me too much of us to the point i had to move out to switzerland to let myself live without a depressing memory playing at the back of my head or with a constant worry i’d run into you somehow.

thankfully, i can still watch formula 1 and motorsport in peace without a single thought about the memories we made over the years. but i guess my love for motorsport is rooted in me. that’s how we became friends anyway. but, for as long as i think i’ll be watching racing for, i’ll never cheer you on.

though it hurts me to say that because i know i’d give injustice to my heart. i hate how my heart can still long for you though i tell myself that i hate you. i hate how i can’t delete the pictures from my camera roll because as soon as i do because my heart skips at least 10 beats at once when i take a look at how we were happy and the way you used to look at me.

my smiles were genuine, and it pains me to know that yours were never quite as real.

i hate how i could tell myself that i hate you again and again but still wish that i could have what we had back. i hate how i could say ‘i love you’ to you easily and struggle to say it with the same amount of admiration and love to someone else. i hate that i can say ‘i love you’ to you a million times and it still wouldn’t be enough.

i hate that i still love you.

love,

(y/n)

_________________

dear pierre,

it’s been 3 months since i last wrote, 7 since we broke up. it’s been months since the last time i had seen you and yet, as much as i try to, i can’t get over you.

i’m not surprised that you haven’t responded yet, not that i expected you to, i put your old address on it anyway and it’s probably invalid. i just didn’t want sad letters around my house.

i’ve tried everything i possibly can. i increased my practice hours in my sports, and in case you were wondering which you probably weren’t, i still play golf, i still go skiing in the winter, i still do everything i used to do and more, yet i still feel significantly emptier. it’s probably one of the few things giving me joy at the moment apart from my dog.

if you no longer love me, i hope you still love belle. or at least as much as she loved you because you picked her name. she’s still attached to the toy you got her, by the way, and she misses you. she’s also taken up your side of the bed in case you were wondering.

although i’m feeling better than i was since i sat down to write that letter, my heart still aches. it hurts to lose your boyfriend and best friend at the same time, and it hurts even more to know that you probably carried on with your life just fine.

i’ve been told that i lost my sparkle, which is something you probably took along with you considering the state of your car the race after we broke up. was that a bad joke? i feel like it was, for that i apologise, it was insensitive (kind of).

but in all seriousness, i’ve lost my spark and any kind of positive mood.

i still struggle to find peace with myself, i struggle to find my happiness. and maybe with my spark, you also took them away.

if you did, give it back. it was mine first.

love,

(y/n)

_________________

dear pierre,

your mum asked me how i was today, apparently she had lunch with mine and the topic of me moving to switzerland to try and run away from my misery was brought up. obviously, mamma told her that i was fine.

if you see this, tell her that i miss her but it’ll be a while since i see the streets of rouen. and tell her that i’m doing okay in switzerland.

but since i’m writing this letter, i’m not exactly okay. no one tells you how hard it is to move on and heal, much less find peace with yourself again.

sometimes wish i was egotistical about myself, that i was self-centered, because that would mean that i actually liked myself. instead, i’ve become complacent with my own company. everytime i look at myself in the mirror, i can’t help but analyse and critique myself to shreds just to figure out which part of me wasn’t good enough for you.

do you know how hard it is? to know that there’s no way of winning in life? to know that you’ll never be good enough? to know that you’re the second choice?

no, you obviously don’t. now that you’ve won in formula 1, you can officially say that you don’t know how it’s like to know that there’s no way of winning. take that statement how you will.

but i guess for my own sake, i’ll learn how to come to terms with it.

love,

(y/n)

_________________

dear pierre,

i went back to rouen for the first time in a year. that’s how long it’s been. i was meant to be there for a week, which used to be far too short of a trip back, but now it feels too long.

my bedroom at mamma’s house is still filled with pictures of us, ever since the day we became friends when i moved a couple blocks down from you. from this i think you can guess how hellish it must’ve been having to stay in the place that once used to give me so much comfort.

i passed by your old karting track— there was a picture of you hung up on one of the walls. i can’t escape you, can i?

although it scares me how easily i brushed off any questions or mentions of you, or us, because that means i’ve healed and i’m moving on. it scares me because i never thought i’d see the day i would stop loving you.

but now that i think about it, it probably is a good sign that i’m healing.

it’s bad to cling onto the bad things in life after all.

love,

(y/n)

_________________

dear pierre,

remember all the things you said you’d do with me but never did? yeah, i do too, so i went to do all of them by myself. call it a solo date, if you will. at the end of the day, all you really have is yourself, so i figured i’d at least enjoyed my company.

though sometimes, you need someone to help you learn these things with life. but learning isn’t always easy, and i know that i still have a long way to go with my healing.

and considering i’m still writing these pathetic little letters, i have a long way to go but it’s a road i’m willing to take. if that means healing and moving on, if that means appreciating myself, if that means finding my peace and bright spark back, it’s a road i’m willing to go down.

though i’m mad at the broken promises and maybe there’ll still be a small part of me hurt by everything, i’ll try to forgive you.

love,

(y/n)

p.s: congrats on your podium finish

_________________

dear pierre,

thank you for everything i’ve learned.

maybe things do happen for a reason.

love,

(y/n)

[black-arcana]

Ex-NIGHTWISH Members TARJA TURUNEN And MARKO HIETALA Announce September 2024 European Tour

Following a triumphant series of performances in South America with several sold-out gigs where Marko Hietala joined Tarja Turunen as a special guest, the two former NIGHTWISH members are set to captivate European audiences with their enthralling collaboration.

The European trek, which will kick off in September in Germany, promises to be an unforgettable experience as these two familiar voices reunite on stage once again.

Tarja recently released her first greatest-hits album "Best Of Tarja - Living The Dream". Her live show will feature a selection of songs from her career, also found on "Best Of", including fan favorites and her own personal picks.

Adding to the excitement, Marko and Tarja recently collaborated on the duet single "Left On Mars", which received widespread acclaim.

Marko will perform his own songs with his band before joining Tarja on stage for a night that promises to be nothing short of memorable.

Expectations are high as the duo continues to delight fans with both old and new songs, building on the success of their South American tour.

Tarja and Marko's "Living The Dream Together Tour 2024" European dates:

Sep. 08 - DE Berlin - Huxleys Neue Welt Sep. 09 - DE Bremen - Aladin Music Hall Sep. 10 - DE Saarbrücken - Garage Sep. 12 - DE Leipzig - Hellraiser Sep. 13 - DE Hamburg - Grünspan Sep. 14 - DE Herford - Kulturwerk Sep. 16 - NL Groningen - De Oosterpoor Sep. 17 - NL Utrecht - Tivoli Vredenburg (Ronda) Sep. 18 - DE Bochum - Matrix Sep. 20 - DE Ulm - Roxy Sep. 21 - DE Obertraubling - Eventhall Airport Sep. 23 - DE Frankfurt - Batschkapp Sep. 24 - DE München - Backstage Sep. 25 - CH Pratteln - Z7

Earlier this month, Hietala was asked by El Planeta Del Rock if there is any chance of him and Turunen launching a new project together. He responded: "I won't close that option off. We haven't talked about it, putting up a group together or anything like that. But at the moment, it seems that we've got a different kind of connection than it was [in the] past. Because then the camps were really divided already when I stepped into [NIGHTWISH]. And it was hard to find the truth of things, because a lot of it was like a managerial turf war where we got told certain things by one side and told certain things by the other side and lots of confusion — blah, blah, blah — and in the end, yeah, what we already realized a few years back when we were all together there doing the Christmas shows in Finland that after all the hassle has died and the noise has died and everything, you still find out that you lost a friend. And that was the main [reason] why we are basically doing this together again."

In a recent interview with Thiago Rahal Mauro of Brazil's Metal Musikast, Tarja spoke about what it was like to team up with Marko to perform a cover of "The Phantom Of The Opera" during their special open-air concert in July 2023 at Z7 Summer Nights in Pratteln, Switzerland. Tarja and Marko both played individual sets at the event, with their rendition of the main theme from Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical coming during Turunen's portion of the show.

"I got a call from a promoter to take part in one festival in Switzerland last year in a European summertime in July," Tarja said. "And then I got to know, when I had accepted to be the artist of the evening, then I saw that they had also invited Marko and Marko's band to perform in the same festival. So I thought, 'Hmm.' And I was actually sending a message that I wished to reach Marko, because I didn't have his contact any longer, to ask him to perform with me 'The Phantom Of The Opera' in my show. And he responded 'yes.' So, after 18 years [laughs], we were about to sing the song together. And it was super exciting. It was really beautiful. The people got very emotional about this.

"We had met already before — we had been singing on a few occasions in Finland a few years before — so we kind of cleaned the table on that occasion already," she explained. "So we were in good terms, so to say, but now singing 'The Phantom Of The Opera' together after all these years was amazing."

Tarja also elaborated on her friendship with Marko, saying: "It's a new relationship with him, because he's not the same person anymore than he was in the band. He has changed a lot, and many years have passed by. I've changed myself. Life has changed us. So it is a new relationship, let's say. And it had made me very happy to get to know him better after all these years."

Last November, Tarja admitted to Chaoszine that she was "nervous" before performing "The Phantom Of The Opera" with Marko at Z7 Summer Nights. "I believe that he was nervous as well to meet up with me, but we were both very excited to go back to the stage and to sing the song," she said. "We sang 'Phantom Of The Opera' in Switzerland for the first time. Then we went over to Finland to perform it again, did a show together there — he with his band and me with my own. Wow. It was pure emotion. I think it was really beautiful, but it made me kind of… I was, like, 'I'm in peace,' sort of. The feeling was great. I think it was even more for Marko, because I saw him standing there after my concert, when I finished my set, and he came like almost in tears, saying that this was important. We reconnected, and it's great."

Turunen was fired from NIGHTWISH at the end of the band's 2005 tour by being presented with an open letter which was published on the NIGHTWISH web site at the same time. In the letter, the other members of NIGHTWISH wrote: "To you, unfortunately, business, money, and things that have nothing to do with emotions have become much more important."

NIGHTWISH keyboardist and main songwriter Tuomas Holopainen later called the decision to part ways with Turunen "the most difficult thing I ever had to do." For her part, Tarja said the way she was kicked out of the group proved that her former bandmates were not her friends. "Maybe one day I'll forgive, but I will never forget," she said.

In 2019, Turunen dismissed Internet chatter about her possible return to NIGHTWISH after her December 2017 onstage reunion with the band's then-bassist/vocalist Hietala during a "Raskasta Joulua" concert in Hämeenlinna, Finland.

"I know a lot of fans would love to see something happen, but it's a very long distance away," she told Kerrang! magazine. "Personally, I don't see anything happening with me and them, to be perfectly honest. Marko came a little later into the band; he wasn't there since the beginning. He was always a guy I was close to. Me and Tuomas Holopainen, however, haven't seen each other in a long time… but we have been in touch. It's not bad. The past is what it is; we can't change that. We can only change the future."

NIGHTWISH's authorized biography, "Once Upon a Nightwish: The Official Biography 1996-2006", was published in Finnish in 2006 and in English three years later.

Turunen's husband, Marcelo Cabuli, and his business partners later sued the parties behind the book for defamation. Named in the lawsuit were the publishing house Like Kustannus Oy and the author of the book, Marko "Mape" Ollila. Cabuli and his Brazilian business partners argued that the book includes false accusations and insinuations that have caused them suffering and financial problems.

The book blamed Cabuli for the events leading up to Turunen's dramatic expulsion from the band in late 2005.

In 2011, the Helsinki District Court dismissed Cabuli's lawsuit, ruling that the book — which criticized Cabuli on only a few of its 380 pages — did not detrimentally affect his work or reputation in South America. In addition, the court determined that Ollila did not maliciously portray Cabuli in a negative light.

Nearly two years ago, Tarja was asked in an interview with Top Link Music manager and concert promoter Paulo Baron and music critic Regis Tadeu if she would consider doing a tour with NIGHTWISH if all of her former bandmates apologized to her about how their split happened and invited her to share the stage with them again. She responded: "It is very, very hypothetical that all what you said will happen, first of all — it's very, very hypothetical.

"I'm living in a world, like we are all living in a world, that things happen without us noticing," she continued. "I mean, I can't really close any doors in that sense; I'm not that kind of person any longer. I learned so many things in this life already. I take them as they are.

"So I don't know. It would be very hypothetically possible," she added. "It would be unlikely to happen."

Hietala announced his departure from NIGHTWISH in January 2021, explaining in a statement that he hadn't "been able to feel validated by this life for a quite a few years now." He has since been replaced by session bassist Jukka Koskinen (WINTERSUN),who made his live debut with NIGHTWISH in May 2021 at the band's two interactive experiences.

In an August 2022 interview with Finland's Chaoszine, Hietala revealed that he went through a dark period in his life, which included depression, insomnia, anxiety and an eventual attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) diagnosis. Speaking about how he eventually came to the realization that exiting NIGHTWISH was the right thing to do, Marko said: "It was a long process. Of course, the COVID year that was there, where I had a lot of time for soul searching, it obviously gave me the last incentive that I need something else, that if I just continue with this I'm just gonna get sicker and sicker. But, of course, it's a process.

"I've been chronic depressive since 2010 [or] 2011, so I've been on a permanent medication ever since," he revealed. "Sometimes you get used to the meds [and] you will need more. We did raise [the dosage] during the years also, but it just didn't work. And now that I started to do… I had psychotherapy for over four years now, and then I also talked to psychiatrists and some doctors and did that also in Spain. Then my psychiatrist here in Finland said that I should do these ADHD neuropsychological tests, which I then did in Spain. And, okay, I got it."

Hietala reiterated that he "had been thinking about" leaving NIGHTWISH "for a while" before making the final decision. "Because I had a lot of weight. And I tend to… With the attention disorder, it tells me that when there are lots of trouble, then the disorder makes it into a real chaos," he explained. "There's a shitload of stuff coming and going and no peace anywhere. And for a year or two, I was already waking up every night at three o'clock to bad dreams and anxiety. So I'd say that the whole process probably started already with my former divorce [in 2016]. That was a very sad time when you think about your kids and your broken homes and all that. And then, when I started to get clear from that, then there were, well, all kinds of things. I don't really wanna go any deeper to what kind of things I'd gone through, but I'd gone through enough."

Acknowledging that making NIGHTWISH's latest studio album, 2020's "Human. :II: Nature.", was a "difficult" experience for him, Marko denied that his mental state at the time resulted in a diminished role for him on the final LP. "I think the original idea was to have that… we'll do a couple of [solo vocal appearances], or one solo for me and Troy [Donockley], and the rest Floor [Jansen], and then the harmonies; that was the idea originally for that," he said. "So I don't know if it affected. I think it was sort of as planned. But at that time I already had serious trouble with concentrating and serious trouble with a constant black cloud over my head."

In July 2022, Hietala told Finland's Iltalehti that he had not kept in touch with NIGHTWISH since his departure or followed the activities of his former band.

In May 2021, Holopainen said that Hietala's decision to leave NIGHTWISH "came as a bit of a surprise." He told Finland's Kaaos TV: "Marko informed us in December [of 2020 that he was leaving the band]. And even though he has been very open about his state and problems during the past years, it still came as a bit of a surprise for us. So it was a really tough pill to swallow. And for a few days, I was actually quite confident that there's no coming back, that this is it. I remember talking to Emppu [Vuorinen], the guitar player, and we were, like, 'You think this is it?' 'Yeah, I think this is it.' I mean, enough is enough. So much has happened in the past. Something that broke the camel's back, as they say. Then, after some time had passed — a few days — we started to think that it's been such a ride of 25 years, with so many ups also, that this is not the way to end it."

Tuomas elaborated on NIGHTWISH's reasons for carrying on, saying: "I think we still have something to give, and that's the main point. The music is still there. We felt that there's still so much music that needs to come out from this band that, 'Okay, let's give it one more shot.' And then finding the new bass player was really easy."

He added: "It's not like we do this just because we need to do it and there's nothing else to do. On a personal level, I feel that there's still so many stories and melodies that I want to share with the world with one lineup or another, so that's why you want to continue and keep on going.

"I've said this a million times, that a lineup change is the ultimate energy vampire, and that's how it really felt and still feels."

In June 2021, Jansen spoke about Hietala's exit from the band in an episode of her "Storytime" YouTube video series. She said: "That was a very sudden surprise that, of course, was not fun at all. But we understand — I understand — it was a necessary thing for him to do. And from there, we had to think of how to continue without him, and that also, in preparations towards the virtual show, that was a huge challenge."

In December 2020, Hietala was crowned the winner of the fall 2020 season of "Masked Singer Suomi" — the Finnish edition of the popular masked singing contest. He was disguised as Tohtori — the Doctor.

Photo courtesy of Nuclear Blast Records

[sargeantposting]

INTERVIEW: Logan Sargeant, KF-Junior World Champion (kart360, 2015)

source: kart360 via the wayback machine published: october 1st, 2015 series: karting, 2015

What has the level of support from around the world been like after winning the world title? It is unbelievable. I have gotten so many congratulatory messages about my victory, but the main support is my family. They are always watching even from America and that means so much. They said that they are so proud and can’t wait to see me.

You, like a few other international drivers have made the move to Europe full time. Not many drivers do this as early as karting. How has the adjustment been and do you attribute this to part of your success? Moving away from home is a very hard thing in your own personal life. You lose all of your best friends. You don’t have your "home" and you have to adapt to a different culture. It is hard to move to a country that speaks a different language than what you know, but racing is so important to me that I stuck through it and kept on going.

Full article:

Last weekend went down in history for American karting, when one of it’s own, Logan Sargeant (Florida), drove to a 1.8-second win over Clément Novalak -- one of his fiercest rivals all season -- in KF-Junior at the 2015 CIK-FIA World Championships in southern Italy. It’s the first World Championship for an American-born driver since Lake Speed did it for the first time in 1978.

Sargeant, at 14 years old and in his final season in Junior competition, moved to Europe permanently three years ago to set his sights on a future Formula 1 career. Starting out with the accomplished Ward Racing in his first season, he has now been with indomitable Ricky Flynn Motorsports for two years.

This season couldn’t have started any better for the Floridian now living in Switzerland, winning the WSK Champions Cup going away and Vice Championship in the WSK Super Master Series (10 points behind Novalak). However, he could not hold that same level of momentum in the CIK-FIA European Championship over the summer. Some tire issues at round one and some driving mistakes he admits himself in round two ultimately led to him skipping the third and final round and taking a break.

With a clear head and a circuit he is known to be fast at, Logan came into the weekend as a top tier favorite in KFJ and he did not break under that pressure. Qualifying second in a field of 97 drivers set the tone right away on Friday that he was ready to compete on the biggest stage in karting.  Over the next two days, he went on to win three of four heat races, a pre-final, and ultimately the World Championship. We caught up with him three days later at his home in Switzerland to chat.

Logan, you missed the final at last year’s World Championships despite a good overall season. What was the difference at the World Championships this year? The difference was that I went into that weekend more confident than ever because I had such a great test the week before, and I also knew that La Conca was a track I have always been very fast at so I came very prepared for the challenge.

What has the level of support from around the world been like after winning the world title? It is unbelievable. I have gotten so many congratulatory messages about my victory, but the main support is my family. They are always watching even from America and that means so much. They said that they are so proud and can’t wait to see me.

You, like a few other international drivers have made the move to Europe full time. Not many drivers do this as early as karting. How has the adjustment been and do you attribute this to part of your success? Moving away from home is a very hard thing in your own personal life. You lose all of your best friends. You don’t have your "home" and you have to adapt to a different culture. It is hard to move to a country that speaks a different language than what you know, but racing is so important to me that I stuck through it and kept on going.

You have been working with Gary Catt for some time now. For those that don't know, Gary is a former factory Tony Kart driver and one of the most successful British drivers in karting. What has he added to your program? Gary is probably the greatest driver coach I have ever worked with on and off the track. At the track, he keeps me focused, he makes me eat and drink, and of course helps me with the errors I make on track. He has helped bring me far away from when I started with him. Off the track he is a very funny guy and really fun to be with.

What is the role of Gary Catt compared to Ricky Flynn in your karting career and at the track? Well, Gary helps me with my driving and keeping me very concentrated and also managing my racing, opposed to Ricky who sets up my kart and looks at the data with me and Gary. He just makes sure everything with the kart is working properly.

What were the major challenges when you began racing in Europe compared to America? The difference between America and Europe are so big you would never even imagine it. The competition is so much higher, and also the level of grip compared to America is insane. It is a lot more professional in Europe and it is taken much more serious than in America.

At SuperNationals 18 last year, you mentioned to us after you won TaG Junior that you would be participating in TaG Senior in 2015. Can we still hold you to that? I will be competing in Tag Senior for Las Vegas this year and next year I will drive KF in all the same series that I drove in this year. [editors note: ‘OK’ will be the new KF category in 2016]

There you have it. You can see, with his talent, in addition to being surrounded by highly admired people like Gary Catt and Ricky Flynn, this young man has a very bright future in karting and formula cars. And even more notable to our American fans: we'll see the KFJ World Champion in Vegas in his first race in a senior category, trying to back up his TaG Junior victory from a year ago, a victory he holds in high regard.