#and the other short poppies characters

[funforahermit]

this is a weird mix of things that are definitely happening that i'm just waiting for, and things that i desperately wish for

things i want

- rhys darby in jumanji 3

- rhys darby in ofmd season 2

- rhys darby in relax i'm from the future

- rhys darby in the cryptid factor

- rhys darby in more stand-up

- rhys darby in something entirely new and different

- rhys darby in more things!!

[wampabampa]

Redesigns Redesigns Redesigns !

And a rename!

🪲☀️🪲☀️🪲☀️🪲☀️🪲

More info below + solo + sketches below cut!

Because I had redesigned cheddar I was looking back at my other two favorite girls, Riley and Boon, and found myself cringing at their designs. They were…okay! But not good anymore! Riley still looked like a sona despite her now being her own character and boon…boon was something else

🐜🐜 Riley Red 🐜🐜

When redoing Riley I wanted her to look super sweet but is surprisingly rude despite her appearance (cliché diner server from the movies). So making her shorter and chubbier instead of mean and lean looking like previously got that part down, all that was left was the hair which was thankfully easy thanks to her design for @/evillillad metal au I realized she look good af with bangs! I also ,add it more everywhere because she only has time to fix her bangs before back to running food! (Also gave her a beaded bracelet that is the same colors as poppy’s neck feathers) (they are gfs cause I said so)

But otherwise Riley is still the same! Same mean lesbian that hates her green bean rival who makes absolutely rancid hot dog combinations across the street

Regarding her diner: still working on an overall design but 85% of the dishware was made by Wally Darling (and friends)! Riley commissioned him for it. The rest she bought from (unfortunately) Howdy!

If she has any merchandise it would likely be similar to those toy kitchen sets or a paint it yourself dish kit for kids

🌧️🌧️ Misty Gloom 🌧️🌧️

For Misty Gloom (Originally Boon Gloon) I wanted them to be something else entirely. I disliked their original designs because while it was fun at the time it got annoying pretty fast. They were originally made for nsfw but I never actually did it! So last night after smoking a bowl with my bestie I came up with the idea: Rain Monster. Rainbow monsters exist, so why can’t a rain monster? So I got to work on making them look as wet as possible- their horns based off sea lettuce and their hair made to look like jelly, I actually got happy with the idea! The bottom of their feet and the palms of their hands I wanted to make it look like and ombré similar to rainbow monsters (I would say they are distant cousins!) for the clothes Rain monsters usually wear loose fitting clothing so I made them wear a caftan dress that was popular in the 70s

Info regarding rain monsters: Rain Monsters are a lot taller than rainbow monsters. They have longer arms fingers and more unique horn shapes and colors (made to look like camouflage). Similar to rainbow monsters when it comes to flowers, rain monsters actually whisper to the clouds and help them collect rain. Think of it like caring for animals and farming! Once the clouds have collected enough water they guide them where to go as a way to keep everything balanced. Throughout the forest and towns they have rain water buckets which they collect after every storm. What they do with it is a mystery. Rain monsters, at least most, are a very reclusive group, often staying away from others that aren’t their own. Of course they will talk to you, but don’t expect them too be excitable like their cousins the rainbow monsters!

Misty would normally be slouched over but for height comparisons I made them stand up straight for this one!

Misty would probably not have any merchandise herself but her species overall the merch would be make your own horns kit or a rain collector bucket

🐭🐭 Cheddar close ups 🐭🐭

[autisticfoxgirl333]

Fictional Character Battle #2

[14dayswithyou]

I literally have the most amazing and wonderful community in the entire world???? T_T In this essay, I will—

This is going to be raw and unedited because I want to get my initial thoughts out there before I forget n go back to crying /pos, but?? Yawl.... I can't even begin to find the words to express how appreciative and grateful I am for each and every one of you!! ;v;

I've spent the past few hours reading through everyone's personally written messages, then rereading them all again to let it all fully sink in. I'm being genuine when I say that I've never felt this loved or appreciated in any community before in my life.

Those in the Discord server might know about this already, but since the start of this year, I haven't really been enjoying myself (nor have I been as active) in the yandere VN community. There was far too much infighting between devs, parasocial communities, and toxic anons that ruined so much for me — so I withdrew from it all and remained in my own small bubble. Even then, I still got belittled, harassed, doxxed, and even became the target of Tall Poppy Syndrome by others; most of which nearly made me want to leave altogether, but the overflowing amount of support from everyone in the 14DWY community made me want to stay.

And even now, after reading all those heartfelt messages... I think it's permanently solidified the little space I occupy here on the internet :3

So... Yeah, long story short (and a story that will likely end up as its own separate Tumblr post gjskskjd), I wasn't enjoying myself at all in the yandere VN community... but I did have the time of my life in the 14DWY community. And it's all thanks to you guys.

I'm genuinely sooooo proud to have such an endlessly kind, social, and talented community; and I'm glad to have brought such an interactive and friendly group of people together over our shared interest in such a nice concept. 14DWY is essentially a labour of my love — and although I'm ultimately creating it for me and my silly interests — it's still something that I want to make worthy of you guys as well. All the love and support you've shown me and 14DWY motivates me to do my very best, and y'all deserve nothing less. So...

Thank you all for finding a comfort character in my Totally Normal Guy and his Totally Not Eccentric quirks. Thank you for all the insanely talented creations y'all make and share with me. Thank you for sending in your silly (/pos) questions and turning them into inside jokes and AUs for the rest of the community to enjoy. Thank you for talking with me and making this space a genuinely fun place for me to be in again.

From the bottom of my heart; thank you all so much. I really hope everyone has had an amazing year so far, and I hope 2025 will be as kind to you as you all were towards me.

I also want to give a big fat massive huuuuuuuge shout-out to Ashe / @flaneur001 my love (/p) for organising the 14DWY letter event on Discord, and for contributing so much of their time and dedication to the 14DWY community. You say you've only been part of the community for a year, but to me, that was a year well cherished and appreciated. The 14DWY community (and me especially) have all been so lucky to spend this past year with you, and I sincerely hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have. You've done so much for me, the community, and the 14DWY Discord server, so it's only fair that you get the recognition you deserve. So thank you, Ashe!! And a big thank you to everyone in the 14DWY Discord who participated in this event as well!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some cryin and sobbin to do <3 /silly /pos

[ficauthor]

Cant stop thinking about how Trolls Dreamworks made sure everyone knew that Branch is Hot for a Troll. Truly they did not need too but it does make the entire story like 10% funnier.

There's a non zero chance as he sang true colours around the pot someone went "oh no hes hot!" Like there's a chance that as he intruded parties and shit someone in the background sighed in disapointment that such an attractive young man wouldnt just dance with them. Someone (Poppy) probably saw him brooding through the forest and went "owwooga gotta get me a slice of that depressed cake!"

Imagine explaining to the other genres that just one short year ago the town hottie thottie was rejected and loathed by everyone bc singing killed his grandma.

Funnier imagine being pop trolls you've been privy to his top ten worst mental breakdowns but now everyone from the other genres thinks hes soooo competent. Hes sooooo good at singing and the way he was able to just pick up dancing with all the other groups is soooooo cool. Meanwhile you know he flipped a coffin over like three years ago mid panic attack. You've seen Branch hide perfectly in a puddle of mud Peeta hunger games style because he thought an earthquake was a sign of the apocalypse.

Imagine being his bros seeing him display unparalleled riz around town and then learning that for about twenty years no one acknowledged that bc he was paranoid as hell. Imagine being his bros and learning that, yes he pulled the queen of your nation but also just about every troll capable of attraction to him.

Character of all time Branch is.

[whizzing-fizzbee]

Girls' Night

Sebastian Sallow x F!OC

Summary: Emmeline Alexander plans a girls' night for Anne Sallow and their friends at the cottage in Feldcroft, but her best friend and crush Sebastian insists on crashing the party. In other words, MC (Emmeline) and Sebastian take advantage of the Silencio spell in Sebastian's bedroom after a night of playing Never Have I Ever. Rating: Explicit 18+ (Minors DNI), all characters are 18+ Themes: Friends to lovers, slumber party, sleepover, girl talk, smut, romance Word count: 7,568 Notes: Every time I sit down to write my chapter fics, I accidentally write some nonsensical smut. Oops.

Characters are all seventh years and 18 years old. MC is an original female character named Emmeline Alexander.

Part 1 is clean, Part II has all the smut. Both can be found on AO3 or below the cut.

Part I: Girls' Night

Nightfall was reaching Feldcroft as Emmeline Alexander approached the quaint hamlet. She was tired from a long day of studying, but had decided to fly her broom there from Hogwarts. The fresh air was good for her and gave her some time to relax before what was sure to be a boisterous night.

Once she touched down, Emmeline made the familiar short trek to that same cottage – the one she’d been visiting regularly for over two years. Now, the cottage was larger – the handiwork of some transfiguration spells and charms she had mastered in the Room of Requirement. The home had two floors and separate bedrooms now, and she’d even added some flower boxes to the windows with simple, yet pretty landscaping outside.

It felt like home. In many ways, it was her second home.

The lights inside the cottage were on and Emmeline could hear joyous laughter and voices inside. She grinned to herself with anticipation as she knocked.

The door swung open and she was surprised by the first face to greet her.

“Sebastian?” she said stupidly.

“How nice to see you, too,” the freckled 18-year-old replied. He grinned at her and Emmeline felt her stomach flip. 

“Emmeline!” Anne Sallow, Imelda Reyes and Poppy Sweeting waved from their seats around the dining table inside. 

Emmeline moved to enter the home but was blocked by Sebastian, who held an arm across the threshold to prevent her from entering. “Wait,” he said, his lips forming a smirk. “You have to answer a security question.”

“Security question?” Emmeline repeatedly stupidly. “Seb, it’s me.”

“A likely response from an imposter,” Sebastian quipped while Anne, Imelda and Poppy giggled.

Emmeline sighed at the frivolity of it all. Clearly the group had already opened the firewhiskey. “Fine,” she sighed. “What’s the question?”

“Who was your first crush at Hogwarts?” Sebastian asked.

“Why is that the question?”

“Because the answer’s funny.”

Emmeline sighed again. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Ominis,” Emmeline muttered quietly. 

“Who?”

“Ominis Gaunt.”

The group inside roared with laughter as Emmeline shoved her way past Sebastian, tossing her satchel on the floor once inside.

“Bastard,” she mumbled. Sebastian threw an arm around her and pulled her in for a sideways hug. 

“You know you love me,” he teased before Emmeline shoved him away.

“I’d love to be rid of you,” she sneered. “Besides, isn’t this supposed to be a girls’ night? Why are you here?”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll be out of your hair soon,” Sebastian said. “I’ll retreat to my room so you lovely ladies can do whatever it is you do.”

“Why aren’t you at Hogwarts?”

“Because it’s the weekend and all of my favorite people are here… except Ominis, but I reckon he’d appreciate a break from me,” Sebastian said.

“I’d appreciate a break from you too,” Emmeline huffed. “Especially after that stunt you pulled at breakfast this morning.”

“That was an accident, darling. I didn’t know the goblet was going to explode like that.”

Emmeline rolled her eyes and slinked past him to take a seat at the table with her other friends. She was quick to pour herself a glass from the firewhiskey bottle that sat on the table.

“Where’s Natty?” she asked as she reached for a handful of pear drops from a bowl.

“She’ll be here any moment,” Poppy answered. “She was having dinner with her mum.”

“And Nellie?”

“She’s not coming. She had a date.”

Emmeline’s eyes widened with curiosity. “With whom?”

“Everett.”

“Clopton?”

“Do we know another Everett?” Sebastian chimed in from the sink where he was cleaning dishes. Emmeline turned to glare at him.

“Excuse me, but I do believe this is supposed to be a girls’ night,” she chided. “These conversations are not meant to include you.”

Imelda and Poppy shared a glance, their understanding mutual. It was going to be a long, albeit entertaining night with Sebastian and Emmeline egging each other on. It was the nature of their friendship, and neither could help themselves.

But despite their ceaseless banter, Emmeline and Sebastian were incredibly fond of each other, carrying a close bond that traced back to the start of their fifth year. Since then, their lives became irrevocably intertwined, woven by the threads of adventure, trauma and mutual secrets.

They were inseparable most days, except when Sebastian inevitably said or did something foolish. He provided an edge that contrasted Emmeline’s poise, an amusing juxtaposition to all who had the privilege to sit back and observe the tandem. 

What neither of them could admit, though, was that their bond, no matter how unyielding, wasn’t quite enough to satiate either of them.

A brisk knock at the door signaled Natty’s arrival. Sebastian answered it again and offered Natty a much more hospitable welcome than the one he’d given Emmeline.

“Why doesn’t she have to answer any security questions?” Emmeline demanded.

“Because she is trustworthy,” Sebastian said, flashing an innocent grin. Emmeline shot him a glare, which only seemed to bring him more glee.

The five girls settled in around the table, catching up on their latest life updates. Though Emmeline, Imelda, Natty and Poppy saw one another daily at Hogwarts, Emmeline had taken it upon herself to ensure Anne wouldn’t feel left out. She knew Anne missed Hogwarts and her friends, especially now that it was their seventh year, so she arranged a slumber party to bring some cheer to the Feldcroft cottage.

“Natty, how was dinner with your mum?” Emmeline asked.

Natty sighed. “Not good,” she replied. “My mother doesn’t like the idea of me dating Eric.”

“Why not? Eric’s nice,” Poppy said.

“She doesn’t think Eric has enough ambition,” Natty explained. 

“Well they can’t all be Slytherins,” Emmeline laughed.

“Too true!” Anne laughed.

“And they can’t all be Leander, who still seems to think he’s going to be a world-renowned duelist,” Poppy muttered.

Emmeline offered her a sympathetic smile. “He’s still on about that?” she asked.

“More than ever,” Poppy sighed. “It’s rather insufferable, really. Makes me wonder if there’s something wrong with my head for fancying him.”

Meanwhile, Sebastian listened to their conversation with fascination as he pretended to dry dishes in the kitchen. Sure, he knew girls had these kinds of discussions, but they usually chose their words carefully or withheld certain details when boys were around. He felt like they were providing him with some kind of answer sheet that could help him crack the code to what it was that women actually wanted. 

“Leander always means well,” Emmeline continued. “Sometimes it comes off a bit obnoxious or paltry, but his intentions are always good.”

“I wish I knew what his intentions are with me,” Poppy sighed. “He’s all over the place. Anyway, I guess I should be patient with him. He may be delusional at times, but at least he has ambitions.”

“Eric does have ambitions, though,” Natty sighed. “He’s very brave and has a good head on his shoulders. He just isn’t sure what he wants to do after Hogwarts yet. I told my mother he’d figure it out and find a good job, but she doesn’t seem convinced.”

“She’ll come around,” Emmeline assured. “She’s just being a protective mother. She just needs to get to know him a little more.”

“I hope that’s true,” Natty said. “I really like him.”

“He really likes you too,” Imelda noted. “I overheard him singing your praises to Weasley in Potions last week. You know, before the class had to clear out because of Garreth’s rogue potion.”

“Speaking of Garreth,” Poppy giggled. “I heard you had to let him down easy, Emmeline.”

“What?!”

The five girls jumped at the sudden intrusion, turning to stare at Sebastian, who had been listening intently from his spot near the sink.

“Will you mind your business?!” Anne chided.

“Weasley asked you out?” Sebastian asked, his gaze fixed on Emmeline as he ignored his sister’s scolding.

Emmeline furrowed her brow at him, still taken aback by his sudden outburst. “What, is that so hard to believe?” she demanded. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Sebastian replied. He was fortunate he was standing with one side turned away from the group of girls, because a vein in his neck threatened to expose just how irritated he was. “I’m just surprised, is all. Didn’t know Weasley had it in him.”

“Well I told him thanks but no thanks,” Emmeline said, still eyeing Sebastian suspiciously. “I like Garreth but he’s not my type.”

“And what is your type?” Imelda asked. “Judging from your past dating history, I’m not sure you have one.”

Emmeline paused. It was true, the boys she’d gone out with were all quite different from one another. Her first crush at Hogwarts had been Ominis, which all of her friends gleefully reminded her of much too frequently for her liking. She had fancied him because he was noble and composed, yet just playful enough to avoid being deemed too stuffy. But that crush had been fleeting as she and Ominis became close friends, and Emmeline’s affections were replaced by the other member of their trio, who was just the right amount of daring and incalculable she adored.

Then there was Amit Thakkar, who had been incredibly romantic and sweet, but not quite adventurous enough for her. There was also Andrew Larson, who intrigued Emmeline with his artistry and creative spirit, but was also too keen on staying indoors and out of trouble.

Emmeline had agreed to a handful of Hogsmeade visits and informal dates with other boys in her year, but none had reached more than one or two outings before she offered some excuse, usually that she was too busy to date.

In truth, Emmeline’s preoccupation had little to do with her schedule and everything to do with the only boy who had never pursued her. 

She and Sebastian teased, flirted, even made suggestive remarks not suitable for most platonic friendships. They spent most of their free time, meals and classes together, far too often even for best mates. They shared secrets, musings and inside jokes that no other ears would ever hear, but they remained unaware that their biggest secret was mutual.

“I guess Garreth is just too… superficial for me,” Emmeline finally said with a shrug. “Don’t get me wrong, I like him. He makes me laugh and he’s always fun to hang out with, but I can’t recall ever having one deep or meaningful conversation with him in the two-and-a-half years I’ve known him. I want someone who makes me laugh but also makes me think.”

“But didn’t you say Amit was too deep for you?” Imelda pointed out.

Emmeline sighed. “There’s no such thing as too deep,” she said. “Amit was just too… philosophical. He was always trying to apply some underlying meaning to everything. It was just too much for me. Sometimes, I think things just happen because that’s how life works. There’s not always any rhyme or reason to its occurrences. That said, I also enjoy reflecting on how life shapes us.”

“I’m not sure you’re ever going to find someone who offers you that right balance of perception and candor,” Natty laughed. 

“Maybe you need to stop dating so many Ravenclaws,” Sebastian, who had been hanging onto their every word, chimed in.

“What’s wrong with Ravenclaws?” Emmeline demanded, turning to glare at him.

“They don’t match your sense of adventure,” Sebastian replied simply. “They’d rather bury their noses in books than use their wands.”

“Says the bloke who owns more books than anyone I know,” Emmeline said.

“There’s nothing wrong with a thirst for knowledge,” Sebastian said smoothly. “But what’s the point in all that knowledge if you aren’t going to apply it to the real world?”

Emmeline couldn’t argue with that. It was precisely why she and Sebastian had become best friends. He was smart, yet daring enough to keep her guessing. Sure, that recklessness had nearly destroyed their lives at one point, but Emmeline had been patient and understanding with Sebastian as he worked to repair his past mistakes. Since that fateful fifth year, he had proved to her that he was remorseful, and Emmeline’s fondness for her friend morphed into something much heavier.

But she would never admit that, nor did she want to discuss her dating history with him. Instead, she retreated to her best defense – the wit and snark that masked her fear of ever confessing her feelings.

“And what’s the point in having a girls’ night when you’re here?” she retorted.

Sebastian responded with a smirk. “You love me.”

“I’d love to murder you.”

“Murder?” Sebastian drawled. “Such violent thoughts from such a tiny, little thing. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Careful, Sallow,” Imelda laughed. “We’ve all seen what she can do to you in a duel.”

“And I went easy on you last time,” Emmeline added.

“You’re anything but easy,” Sebastian shot back. The room fell quiet, Emmeline’s eyes growing wide while Poppy’s mouth fell open. Sebastian regretted his words instantly, knowing damn well the girls would giggle about them and dissect them later. 

Imelda, ever the bold, mouthy one of the group, was the first to bark a laugh. “You two are something else,” she said, shaking her head. Emmeline also shook her head in an attempt to appear unbothered by Sebastian’s jeer.

“Say, I have an idea,” Anne said, her eyes carrying an impish gleam. “Let’s play a game. Sebastian, you can play too if you want, considering you’re practically one of the girls.”

“Hey now!”

The girls giggled but Sebastian made no attempt to leave the room. Instead, he finished drying the final dish – the same one he’d been “drying” for the past 20 minutes – and placed it away inside a cupboard, tossing the dish towel on the counter before he pulled a chair up to the table between Anne and Emmeline.

“Fine. Since you ladies clearly insist on my presence,” he said smoothly. “What’s the game?”

“Let’s play Never Have I Ever,” Anne said innocently. She flicked her wand, another bottle of firewhiskey sailing from a cabinet until it landed neatly on the table with a soft thud. Anne flashed a grin at the circle of friends. “We’re going to need this.

Part II: Never Have I Ever

“Never have I ever bailed on detention.”

“Poppy, have you even had detention?” Sebastian laughed. The group echoed him with a warm chuckle, a signal that the firewhiskey was in full effect.

“Precisely why I’ve never bailed on it,” Poppy said proudly.

Sebastian and Natty both drank from their glasses, sparking another round of giggles.

“Of course,” Anne mused. “Sebastian’s skipped more detentions than he’s snogged girls in broom cupboards, which is really saying something.”

“And how would you know about my broom cupboard escapades?” Sebastian demanded.

“I know everything,” Anne answered, gesturing to the ring of friends around them. “I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“More like eyes and ears in the form of a certain quidditch captain,” Sebastian muttered, shooting a pointed glance at Imelda, who straightened in her chair with a smug smile.

“Someone has to keep your sister informed on your everyday life,” she said. “Merlin knows you’ve had enough extracurriculars to entertain us all.”

Emmeline was decidedly quiet throughout the exchange. Of course, she knew of Sebastian’s illicit activities. He had become the talk among most of the girls at Hogwarts, particularly since the start of their seventh year when it had become clear that Sebastian was more of a man than a boy. Now 18, Sebastian’s features were much more handsome than cute, though he still clung to his boyish charisma.

Though Emmeline wanted to fling herself from the top of the Astronomy Tower every time she heard a new rumor about Sebastian and his latest fling, she typically kept quiet on the matter. Despite all the secrets they shared, she and Sebastian rarely discussed their love lives. It was the one element of their lives they chose to keep from one another.

Imelda’s turn came next. “Never have I ever snogged someone in a broom cupboard,” she cackled.

Sebastian groaned and took a drink. So did Emmeline.

“Who have you been snogging, and in which broom cupboard?” Sebastian demanded, setting his glass down with an audible bang.

“What’s wrong, afraid all the good cupboards will be taken?” Emmeline teased. Sebastian glowered at her, much to her satisfaction. “You aren’t the only one with secrets, Sebastian Sallow.”

Anne was the only one who noticed how Sebastian’s jaw tightened. She smiled to herself as she realized it was her turn.

“Never have I ever wanted to snog my best friend,” she declared boldly.

Imelda snorted as Sebastian and Emmeline both froze, rather noticeably. Everyone else sat, their drink glasses untouched, leaving the pair to glance nervously toward one another. Finally, Emmeline sat back and folded her arms across her chest for emphasis. 

“No one?” Anne asked innocently. “Someone here must be lying.”

Emmeline averted her eyes while Sebastian stared at the table as if it had suddenly transformed into the most interesting book he’d ever read. The silence that settled over them roared with implication evident to everyone but Sebastian and Emmeline.

“Well, I suppose it’s my turn,” Sebastian finally said, shooting an annoyed glance at Anne who smiled innocently. Sebastian thought for a moment, his eyes flickering toward Emmeline for a fleeting second. “Never have I ever used Polyjuice to impersonate a headmaster.”

Emmeline gasped at his audacity, provoking a chortle from Sebastian. “I swore you to secrecy on that!” she hissed.

“It was two years ago, might as well have a good laugh about it now,” Sebastian said. He reached in front of Emmeline to nudge her drinking class closer to her. “Go on now, drink.”

Emmeline huffed at him before taking a sip. “Bastard,” she muttered before she was forced to recall the time she broke into Headmaster Black’s office. When she finished the story, she turned her head slowly toward Sebastian for emphasis. His gaze matched hers as he tried to appear unbothered, but Emmeline knew him too well. And he knew her too well, meaning he sensed payback was brewing.

She cleared her throat for dramatic effect. “Never have I ever worn my sister’s dress.”

The room paused in silent shock as the other girls processed Emmeline’s words. Finally, a burst of laughter erupted and Sebastian’s cheeks tinged red as he took a drink.

“That was one time!” he insisted, which only provoked more laughter from the girls. “I was drunk!”

Emmeline leaned back in her chair, her eyes glinting with satisfaction as Sebastian was forced to retell the time he drank too much the previous Christmas in Feldcroft and got into Anne’s wardrobe.

“In my defense, Ominis and Em were the ones egging me on,” Sebastian huffed.

“My only regret is not taking a photo to remember the moment,” Anne laughed. “Not that I could forget it if I tried.”

“Always knew you had a kinky side to you, Sallow,” Imelda teased.

The game carried on for several more rounds until the group’s drunken antics had Poppy slumping in her seat. She nearly toppled backward in a fit of giggles at something Imelda said, stirring concern from Sebastian and Emmeline, who were the most sober.

“Poppy!” Emmeline shouted as the chair tipped dangerously. “Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”

Sebastian checked his pocket watch. “It’s nearly two in the morning,” he said. “Perhaps we should all get some sleep.”

Emmeline nodded in agreement as she helped Poppy from the chair, using her wand to conjure five sleeping bags on the living room floor. 

“Oh, are you and Sebastian sharing a bag?” Imelda pestered. Emmeline rolled her eyes and eased Poppy to the floor to help her inside a sleeping bag. 

“As much as Sebastian would probably love nothing more than to sleep in a room surrounded by 18-year-old women, he has a room of his own,” Emmeline replied as Poppy curled up sleepily. 

“Wouldn’t want you ladies fighting over who gets to sleep next to me,” Sebastian drawled.

Imelda heaved a sound of disgust as she helped Natty, who was also quite inebriated, into a sleeping bag. 

“Emmeline, please do something about your boyfriend,” Imelda ordered.

“He’s not my boyfriend! He disgusts me just as much as you do!”

“Oh please, the two of you have been verbally edging each other all night. Get a room. Just make sure you use a silencing charm,” Imelda teased.

Sebastian chuckled at the girls and headed toward the staircase.

“Goodnight, my darlings!” he called before he disappeared up the stairs to retreat to his bedroom.

Emmeline slipped down the hallway to change into her pajamas before walking a lap around the cottage’s first floor, extinguishing the lights. She climbed into a sleeping bag next to Anne, who was just settling down herself.

“Thank you for planning this evening,” Anne said. Emmeline rolled onto her back, the dim cottage falling quiet except for Poppy’s light snoring.

“Of course,” Emmeline said. “I’m glad we got to have a fun girls’ night. Or girls’ night plus Sebastian.”

Anne giggled. “He just can’t help himself, can he?” she laughed. “Always has to be the center of attention.”

“I think he just likes to be included in things,” Emmeline noted, her voice falling quiet as her eyes scanned the ceiling, where she knew Sebastian was sleeping overhead. “Ever since you and Ominis let him back into your lives, he’s made it a point to spend time with you. Doesn’t want to take you for granted.”

“I know,” Anne replied softly. “I’m glad he’s worked so hard to change. And I’m glad he has you, you know. Maybe he doesn’t admit it, but you’re just as important to him as Ominis and me.”

Emmeline let out a gentle laugh. “I’ll continue to give him the dignity of believing I don’t know that. Even if the moron doesn’t deserve it.”

Anne giggled in acknowledgement. She listened to Imelda’s breathing change next to her, indicating she had also fallen asleep. 

“I really am glad you didn’t give up on him, after everything that happened, after what he did,” Anne said quietly. “I like to think your support was what kept him from breaking.”

“He’s a good person, one of the best I know,” Emmeline responded. “He shouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life paying for what he did when he knows how wrong it was. He deserved a second chance and I’m always going to support that.”

“He deserves a good punch in the face sometimes, too,” Anne muttered, drawing a giggle from Emmeline.

“That, he does,” she agreed. 

The pair allowed silence to settle over the room until Anne suddenly shivered.

“Are you cold?” Emmeline asked, sitting up to peer at Anne through the darkness.

“Just a little,” Anne replied. “It gets rather drafty in here.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just sleep in your own room?” Emmeline asked. “I know you wanted to do the whole slumber party thing, but it seems silly for you to sleep here on the floor when you have a perfectly comfy bed upstairs.”

“It’s girls’ night,” Anne insisted. “I want to spend time with my best girl friends.”

“At least let me fetch you another blanket,” Emmeline said, rising to her feet.

“There’s one upstairs on my bed,” Anne answered. “Oh, and there’s a second one in the closet in Sebastian’s room.”

Emmeline paused. “You need both?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Anne replied innocently. Emmeline nodded and crept carefully, tiptoeing around the other sleeping girls toward the staircase.

She stopped in Anne’s bedroom at the top of the stairs first, gathering a quilt from the bed before continuing down the hallway toward the last door. It was slightly ajar but the lights were out, causing her to linger in hesitation.

She stood quietly, listening carefully for a sign that Sebastian was still awake. The only sound she could hear was the snores from the living room below.

“Sebastian?” she finally whispered as she gently shouldered the door open. She poked her head inside, squinting to peer at Sebastian. He was under the covers, seemingly fast asleep.

She tread quietly toward the closet door, where she found another quilt folded on the top shelf. She stood on her tiptoes to reach it and gently pulled it downward, tucking it beneath an arm.

Sebastian stirred quietly, but didn’t react. Emmeline retreated slowly toward the door, holding her breath as if any more noise would be disastrous.

Suddenly, one of the blankets caught beneath her foot and pulled as she stepped. Emmeline stumbled, her footsteps pounding loudly on the wood floors before she finally lost her balance and toppled over with a thud.

“Who’s there?!” Sebastian sat upright, one hand fumbling over the nightstand for his wand.

“Shh! It’s me! Sebastian, it’s me!” Emmeline hissed, still sprawled out on the floor.

“Em?”

“Yes!”

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

“I was getting another blanket for Anne!”

“And you entered my bedroom unannounced?”

“You were asleep!”

“What if I’d been doing something private?”

“Ew! Were you?”

“No! I was sleeping!”

“Then what’s it matter?”

“This is my bedroom!” Sebastian squinted through the darkness as he tried to make out Emmeline’s form. “Why are you on the floor?”

“I tripped.” Emmeline managed to untangle herself from the heap of blankets and climb to her feet as Sebastian found his wand. 

“Lumos!” The tip of his wand cast a warm light throughout the room, revealing Emmeline standing about three feet from the door. She couldn’t help but sneak a double-take as she realized Sebastian had been sleeping shirtless.

Sebastian swallowed. Emmeline’s pajamas revealed much more skin than he’d been accustomed to seeing from her, the neckline of her top dipping dangerously low across the tops of her breasts. He’d never seen her in her sleep attire before, their separate Hogwarts houses keeping them apart at night. Besides, whenever he pictured her in bed, she was wearing far, far less.

Meanwhile, Emmeline took in Sebastian’s tousled hair and sleepy eyes. She hated how enticing he looked, even in such a vulnerable state. 

“Uh, are you okay?” Sebastian finally asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Okay. Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

As the room fell quiet, Emmeline willed her feet to move. Instead, she remained rooted to her spot, as if she were looking for a reason to linger.

Sebastian watched her curiously, his own brain searching for an excuse to keep her there. “Boy, Poppy’s quite the lightweight, isn’t she?” he finally said with a soft laugh.

“She sure is,” Emmeline giggled. “To be fair, she weighs about a fraction of the rest of us.”

“I didn’t realize she was so enamored by Prewett,” Sebastian continued. Emmeline shrugged.

“I suppose you learned quite a bit from crashing girls’ night, didn’t you?” she mused.

“Positively enlightened.”

“Anything you care to share with the class?”

Sebastian masked his hesitation with a smirk. Though he didn’t consider himself to be drunk, firewhiskey had never been his friend. He’d had a fair amount that evening and it was making it more difficult than ever to quell the tightness in chest that could only be traced back to Emmeline.

Seventh year would be over before they knew it and Sebastian feared their friendship would vanish too. Emmeline was set for a position within the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Mysteries, where she hoped to become an Unspeakable. Sebastian had a position laid out for him as a cursebreaker with Gringotts. He was excited for those possibilities but terrified adulthood would drive a wedge between him and the one person he couldn’t envision a life without.

“I didn’t realize you had such high demands for your romantic partners,” he finally teased.

Emmeline narrowed her eyes at him, her lips parting in shock. “I am not demanding!” she hissed. “You take that back!”

Sebastian sat back against the headboard of the bed with his arms crossed. “Point proven,” he said smugly.

A loud snore echoed through the cottage and Sebastian couldn’t help but bark a laugh. “Was that Poppy?” 

“I think that one was Imelda,” Emmeline replied as another snore cut through the room. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“Here,” Sebastian said, scooting to one side of the bed. “Just sleep here. I’ll cast a silencing charm to take care of the snoring.”

Emmeline’s hesitation was clear as she stood, her feet frozen in place as  Imelda’s earlier teasing came to mind. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to join Sebastian in bed – she had daydreamed of that particular scenario more than she’d ever admit – but it was the implication, the expectation, and most of all, the temptation of what it meant.

“Come on,” Sebastian said. “I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing. Besides, it’s not really all that different from all the times you’ve slept on my shoulder while studying.”

But it was different, and Sebastian knew it. The two of them sharing a bed in his cottage, away from the confines of the Hogwarts castle and all its propriety, would absolutely be different – especially when he wasn’t sure how he could possibly keep his hands to himself when Emmeline was next to him looking like that .

“All right, fine,” Emmeline sighed, the spare quilts forgotten on the floor. She moved slowly toward the bed, sliding next to Sebastian who still had his wand lit.

“Silencio,” he said, the room falling dark and quiet. “There, that’s better.”

Emmeline nodded quietly as Sebastian tossed his wand back on the nightstand to settle in beneath the covers. She swallowed as she fought to maintain gentle and light breaths, her chest rising as her body betrayed her. She was certain Sebastian could hear her heartbeat hammering against her ribcage.

Next to her, Sebastian was having the same thoughts. He could smell her shampoo, light and floral, and if he moved any closer, his hand would brush the silkiness of her pajamas. He wondered how that fabric would compare to the softness of her skin, or dare he think it, the velvet feel of her…

“Sebastian?”

“Huh?” Sebastian was pulled from his sinful thoughts.

“I asked if you’re alright,” Emmeline said. “You seem to be breathing heavily.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. You know, other than the fact you’re hogging all the covers.”

“I am not!” Emmeline huffed. She shoved the blanket toward Sebastian who merely chuckled. “It’s not my fault it’s freezing in here,” she said.

“It’s nearly 21 degrees,” Sebastian pointed out. “It’s plenty warm.”

“Not for me.”

“Fine, come here.” Sebastian hooked an arm around Emmeline’s waist and pulled himself closer to her as he nestled against her back. He instantly melted into her, but could feel her shoulders shift as she tensed. “This okay?” he asked, worried he had crossed a line.

“Mmhm,” she answered sleepily. “That’s better. You’re nice and warm.”

Sebastian relaxed a little and could feel Emmeline’s body do the same, though she was hyper-aware of the way his hand rested gently against her waist.

“Emmeline?” Sebastian asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Anne’s right, you know.” His tone was soft yet serious enough that Emmeline couldn't help but lift her head slightly from the pillow to hear him better. “I overheard the two of you earlier. What she said about you being just as important to me as her and Ominis… she’s right.”

Emmeline held her breath as he spoke and carefully mulled over a response. This was precisely what she had meant earlier when she said she wanted a romantic partner who could share meaningful conversations with her. Sebastian could be impulsive, even reckless at times, but he wore his heart on his sleeve and didn’t shy from saying how he really felt, even if it made him vulnerable to her. She always liked that about him.

“Well,” Emmeline started after drawing a shaky breath. “Despite your obnoxious eavesdropping, I meant what I said, too. You did deserve a second chance. You’re a good person and I’ll never stop having your back.”

Sebastian nuzzled the back of her neck gently, a bold move that made Emmeline’s breath hitch. “I like having your back for a change,” he murmured. He knew he was potentially risking everything – their friendship and her trust, but years of longing and suppression had become too unbearable to endure any further for him. He had to know if he stood even the slightest chance at the rare privilege it would be to touch her.

“You sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in a broom cupboard?” she quipped.

“Sounds like I’m not the only one who finds them rather cozy,” he murmured into her ear, his breath warm against her skin. 

Emmeline knew him too well. She could sense the push in his voice, testing her to see how she’d react and how far she was willing to let him go. She decided that enough was enough – she had been drained by the past few years she’d spent practicing poise and self-control when it came to him, stifling all her impulses and redirecting her feelings to boys who would never measure up. If Sebastian was going to tempt her, she was going to ace his tests.

She whipped her body around so that she was facing him, startling Sebastian who tensed. She could feel it in the way he was subconsciously gripping her hip.

“Just curious,” she cooed softly. “Which broom cupboard is your favorite? Is it the one in the dungeons near the Slytherin Common Room? Seems like you might appreciate the convenience in location. I find that one a bit too snug to move around in, though. Perhaps you’re more of a fan of the cupboard in the North Hall, near the History of Magic classroom? That one’s nice and secluded, especially if you make a lot of noise.”

“Emmeline,” Sebastian warned.

“Personally, I think my favorite’s the little room in the Clock Tower Entrance,” Emmeline continued. “Ever been in that one? I showed that one to Amit after Crossed Wands once – we spent a good hour in there, but I don’t think he appreciated it as much as I did.”

Sebastian had to grit his teeth. He didn’t want to think about her doing those things with someone else, but the notion that she was willing and capable of them made him tense, particularly below the waist.

“So which is it?” Emmeline pressed. “Which is your favorite?”

“I like the one off the Reception Hall, near the kitchens,” Sebastian replied through clenched teeth. “Easy to get to and convenient if you work up an appetite.”

Emmeline’s eyes widened at his remark but her lips formed a seductive smirk. “Oh, I wasn’t aware of that one,” she purred innocently. “Perhaps someone will show me someday.”

“Perhaps.”

“Is it spacious? I don’t like when I have to stand the entire time.”

Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath. “Merlin, Emmeline. You’re killing me.”

“Whatever do you mean, Seb?” Emmeline asked, still feigning naivety.

“Stop making this so hard on me.”

Emmeline shifted, her hips pressing gently against Sebastian’s. “Oh, you weren’t kidding about the hard part.”

“I’m going to hex you.” Sebastian growled.

“Fine. Just wait until we’re done and make it worth my while.”

Sebastian was certain he had to be dreaming. Emmeline – his Emmeline, was practically throwing herself at him, daring him to take a chance. And Sebastian was a true Slytherin – ambitious, cunning and determined to get the things he wanted. He didn’t let chances escape his grasp.

He kissed her. He could feel the breath of air she sucked in through her nose when their lips met, her eyes fluttering shut as she returned it. Sebastian wasn’t sure what this would all mean come morning, but the hunger in her kisses made it clear that she wasn’t in the mood to worry about it.

Bed sheets rustled and hands grabbed at whatever skin was exposed. Hearts raced as both realized they were about to satiate their biggest fantasy. Sebastian’s hands roamed beneath Emmeline’s top, brushing over her stomach and down her sides until his fingers found the hem. He pulled away, his eyes heavy as he tugged the shirt upward. His lips found her neck, drawing a soft moan from her. 

“Seems I’ve found a sensitive spot,” he murmured against her skin. He left a trail of kisses from her neck to her collarbone, ending between her breasts.

The darkness made it difficult for Emmeline to see much, but she could certainly feel. Sebastian’s hands were everywhere, yet it still wasn’t enough for her. As she rolled onto her back, Sebastian paused to kiss her again, sparking more impatience from her. She could feel the familiar swell of heat that only happened when she thought of Sebastian late at night, alone in her bed, her own fingers forced to mimic Sebastian’s.

Emmeline lifted her hips as Sebastian tugged her bottoms off, followed by her panties. She silently praised whatever higher power was responsible for Sebastian’s impatience too.

Sebastian’s fingers dragged between her thighs, over her slick entrance. The moment was fleeting and she whimpered a plea for more. Sebastian obliged her as his index and middle finger made contact with her core again. He rubbed her until her breath became a heavy pant and her hips rocked upward demanding more. 

A loud moan carried through the room as Sebastian’s fingers disappeared inside her, the wetness immediately coating them. He curled a finger and Emmeline gasped, her submission making his cock stir.

“Fuck, Em. You’re so fucking perfect,” Sebastian whispered, his eyes roaming her body in the moonlight that poured through the window. 

“And you’re… overdressed.”

Sebastian flashed a smirk and moved to remove his own remaining garments, kneeling over Emmeline once he was rid of them. Emmeline couldn’t help but stare at his form. He was fully erect, the length of his cock proudly anticipating her touch.

She wasn’t sure how she was going to take all of it, but she was damn sure she’d die trying.

A groan escaped Sebastian’s lips as Emmeline gently took him in her hand, gently tracing from the base to his tip. He twitched, his arousal unlike any he’d experienced.

“Emmeline,” he breathed as her mouth engulfed him. He could feel her tongue flatten against his shaft, slowly running over every vein and ridge with deliberation. “Emmeline,” he repeated, his eyes squeezed shut. The sight alone of her lips wrapped around him was enough to nudge him to the edge. “I don’t think I can take it.” 

He hated that confession. As much as he loved this girl and would willingly follow any order she asked of him, his pride remained firm. He didn’t want her to think he was incapable of pleasing her, of lasting long enough to ensure she was good and finished. But this moment, this feeling, had consumed his free thoughts for so long, there was no way he could remain composed much longer.

Emmeline removed her mouth from him, her smirk indicating the satisfaction she felt from the power she clearly held over him.

“You may not be able to take it,” she said, eyeing his cock pointedly, “But I can.”

Sebastian decided she was going to be the death of him, but at least he’d die a happy man.

Emmeline straightened up to rest back on her heels, her eyes maintaining their challenging gaze. “What do you want me to do to you?” she asked, her voice husky with desire.

Sebastian chewed at the inside of his cheek. No girl had ever asked him that. It made his cock pulse. “I want you to do whatever’s going to make you moan my name,” he replied.

Emmeline couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to exist in the same world as Sebastian Sallow. 

“On your back,” she ordered. Sebastian, who typically preferred to be the assertive and dominant party in such situations, obliged. He was too eager to please, and to discover that sweet, supreme moment when she’d cry out his name and show him how she looked when she experienced ultimate pleasure.

As she climbed over him, her legs straddling either side of his torso, his hands snapped instinctively to her hips. His fingers gripped her tightly, drawing a shaky laugh from her. 

“Careful,” she mewed as she positioned herself above him. “Can’t have you leaving any marks.”

Before Sebastian could form a smart reply, her wet heat met the tip of his cock as she lined him up against her entrance.

“Fucking hell.” Sebastian exhaled slowly, his jaw and eyes clenched tight as he welcomed the feeling of her warmth stretching around him. She seemed to be moving at a glacial pace as she eased herself downward. 

“God, Sebastian,” Emmeline breathed. She had to still herself for a moment, her open palms resting against his bare chest as she stretched to accommodate him. She rocked backward slightly to straighten upward, the tiny movement forcing Sebastian to swallow.

“I love you,” he blurted out. If it hadn’t been for the absolute ecstasy currently coursing through his cock, he would have Avada Kedavra’d himself on the spot. Leave it up to him to say something so utterly stupid during the most exciting moment of his life.

Emmeline paused, her eyes wide with disbelief as her gaze met Sebastian’s.

“Really?” she asked.

There was no going back now. “Of course,” Sebastian replied, annoyed at himself for provoking a life-altering conversation mid-sex. “Hasn’t exactly been a secret these past few years.”

“Oh.” Emmeline held her position, stunned at the revelation, though the feeling of Sebastian lingering inside her was difficult to ignore for long. “Well, I love you too,” she finally said. “But given how I covered up a murder for you, stuck by you for two years and threw myself at you tonight, that shouldn’t be a secret either.”

“...Oh. Well when you put it that way…”

“Yeah.”

“Guess I should have told you then, huh?”

“Would’ve saved us both a lot of trouble, it seems.”

“Sure would have.”

“Hey, Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we have this conversation later? As thrilled as I am to hear you finally confess your love for me, I’m going to spontaneously combust if you don’t shut up and fuck me.”

“Oh. Right.”

They shared a quiet laugh, but Emmeline’s eyes quickly darkened as her thoughts returned to a sinful state, the feeling of Sebastian’s tip pressing against the soft flesh inside her.

She moved slowly at first, rocking her hips up and down to ensure she’d found the spot. The moan that fell from her lips confirmed it, and Sebastian’s grip remained rigid on the flesh of her hip bones as if it were steadying him.

In truth, he was desperately fighting his own body’s response to the euphoric feeling Emmeline was creating for him. 

“Feels so good,” she panted as her pace quickened. Her eyes fluttered shut so she could focus on the sensations, which were building an inevitable wave of pleasure in her walls.

Sebastian could feel her wetness pooling at the base of his cock, her slick cunt gripping his shaft as she moved up and down. He wanted to move more, to show her how capable he was in the bedroom, but he was fearful he’d fuck himself into an embarrassing moment. He wanted to prove to her he was worthy of this privilege.

As Emmeline lifted herself upward again, Sebastian forced his own hips upward, evoking a surprised moan from her. He slammed himself inside her again, causing her to hover over him so that he could control their movements. He fucked her with determination, his cock railing against the spot that threatened to unravel her.

She could feel it building, sensed it ballooning in the form of a tiny twitch that would soon erupt into a full convulsion. “Don’t stop,” she begged through ragged breaths, her head tossed backward as the force of Sebastian’s thrusts made her breasts bounce.

“Sebastian, I’m going to-” She couldn’t complete the sentence as she heaved a cry, all of her weight settling down as she collapsed around Sebastian’s cock, her orgasm pulsating around him.

The sensation was new territory for Sebastian, her walls beckoning him with their quaking until a familiar throbbing coursed through his cock.

He released himself inside her with a grunt, the sensation prolonged as she continued to bounce on him to ensure they both were fucked to completion. When he had no more to spill, Emmeline stopped, her full weight still on top of him as she recovered.

“Bloody hell,” Sebastian breathed as the room returned to focus, the moonlight shifting from blurred lines to a sharp focus that shined a spotlight on Emmeline’s body still perched on top of him.

“All right?” Emmeline asked, her chest rising and falling as she panted.

“Never better.”

Emmeline managed to breathe a laugh before she climbed off of Sebastian, returning to her sleeping spot next to him.

Sebastian pulled her close so that he could appreciate the feeling of her sweaty skin, sticky yet warm.

“We should have girls’ night more often,” he mumbled happily.

In the living room beneath them, Anne pulled a blanket around herself, smiling as she drifted off to sleep.

[fr04k1e]

GIGIS WORLD AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AUGH

AAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHH its not even fully done yet i still have like 4 other characters to make but honestly i might scrap or put this project on hiatus i have no motivation to work on it anymore sobs

i will give you guys the ideas i had for the characters i didnt end up making though, and the idea i had for the toon handlers.

Flutter - Gardener, works in the garden and grows/collects seasonings for the kitchen and decoration for the casino customers/staff

R&D - Casino Hosts, working directly with customers to make sure they want to return to the casino and ensuring they have a good experience.

Looey - A comedian/magician on the stage in the disco, a solo preformer. Magician by day and comedian during after hours

Pebble - A security dog working within every part of the casino, with his loud bark he can alert other security of unwanted guests, and using his sharp teeth he can hold them down long enough to deal with them.

Cosmo - A chef in the kitchen, working along with shrimpo. He specializes in pastries, but can also cook other, more healthy foods if needed.

ok thats about it for the toons i didnt end up getting to design. ill ramble more about the actual lore here if anyone cares about that LOL. keep in mind i got like almost nowhere with this so its very VERY vauge and unfinished also im not a good writer whoops

' the basic idea is that the casino had been running fine up untill they had faced a lawsuit, causing them to shut down everything and abandon the casino. Since the toons had been made specifically for the casino they had just been left in there to handle themselves. Eventually, one of the toons had grown curious and decided to tear down one of the machines. After ripping open the back of the machine, black ooze leaked out and covered the bottom of their feet. Not thinking much of it and assuming it was just oil of some kind, they continued, getting the liquid all over their hands and face, along with their legs. After tearing open the machine, they had found little to nothing of interest and left to get themselves cleaned up. However, when they tried to wipe the goo off, it wouldnt budge and instead had covered more of their body. After a short while, they began to feel hollow on the inside and an ache in their bones, what happened afterwards had become contagious and slowly began to infect the whole casino. '

TOON HANDLERS!! they have a whole new purpose here. They work mostly as managers for the toons, each handler has their own line of work and toons to keep track of and train, only 4 have designs tho lol. IGNORE the reindeer names i couldnt think of anything else ok

ok so IN ORDER

Harvey - the bartender, he works with Rodger, Dandy and Sprout. often exhausted, but not rude by any means. mostly quiet and closed off

Prancer - the director, works with Glisten, Poppy, Boxten, Shelly and Looey. a jumpy cheery fella, mostly looking to have fun and trying to be as positive as she can be. bigender monarch

Doner - the (old) director/beauty worker, used to work with Glisten, Poppy, Boxten, Shelly and Teagan, but had been fired after a long time working there due to extreme mistreatment of his toons. although he was closed off, he never seemed to be too angry or aggressive towards other handlers, but when a toon would mess up or act out he would become ruthless without the other handlers knowledge.

Rudolf - the chef, works with Shrimpo, Cosmo and Flutter. a happy and cocky chef who tries his best to make his job entertaining and teaches his toons in more extreme fun ways.

there SHOULDVE been way more but as i said before i dont have motivation to work on this anymore lmao. also glisten canonically has BPD in this my #bpdwarrior

TAG ME IN FANART OR IF YOU DECIDE TO EXTEND THIS AU A LITTLE BIT!! ID LOVE TO SEE IT my twitter is @d1spatches and my tiktok is @0tt3rpaw

[ablobwhowrites]

Not gonna lie, I feel like the protagonist from Poppy Playtime might not even be a human considering the amount of capability in the game gives me vibes they might be some kind of experiment.

I am wondering about your new Home Sweet Home AU but what things might have changed if Y/N is some yellow test dummy toy thing instead of a human?

In a alternative universe this probably happened.

Harley swayer before the hour of joy and before everything went down with playtime co and before he became the machine man. He saw how y/n was capable of being stronger than most workers and being more athletic with more intelligent for emotional and some problem skills so Harley Sawyer wanted to make y/n a perfect subject and well y/n was then taken and yeah y/n was turned into the yellow test dummy. If you ever seen project playtime and saw the yellow test dummy character you play as. That's kinda how I imagine what y/n looks like and y/n was put into the holding room where Thomas Clarke was once put and many though that the same situation would happen but instead they didn't attack y/n. (I saw a theory from someone that because some of the toys are intelligent, they knew that the bron on the room was Thomas Clarke and knew he was working with playtime and was one of the people who made them into this) It interested Harley as they didn't attack more like let y/n into their group as y/n was still recovering for the transformation and y/n literally didn't know that playtime was doing this to the orphans.

Y/n was used for more dangerous situations in the factory that would be to dangerous for the regular workers and well of course y/n gets injured in some of these missions they are forced to do. Plus I do imagine they were lured into the unfortunate events that lead to them being turned into this by the higher ups promising a promotion but was instead experimented on and how they transform them into the yellow test dummy toy was very painful for y/n is all I am going to say.

Y/n does help with the safe haven even doing the dangerous stuff willingly but doey refuses as he had seen how y/n has taken no breaks at all when helping with the safe haven and doing supply run after supply run and so many other things that when the smiling critters where still around in the safe haven. They did try to convince y/n that it's not healthy to push themselves like this but y/n is used to it and so many things still needed to be done but doey did convince y/n to at least take a short sit down for a bit and y/n did. That short sit down then turns into y/n falling asleep and being out cold for about a 20 hours.

But y/n's main goal would be trying to find a safe way for the toys to be able to leave the factory as they do remember their home and yeah it'll be a small struggle to get out but they know that if you at least to get the toys out of this factory and somewhere safe other than here would be at least better than being trapped in this nightmare of a place.

(also a little goofy thing i thought of while yapping about this)

Playtime co higher-up: "congratulations y/n! Your going to be promoted, but first follow me, we have to get you ready for this promotion."

Y/n: "Sweet! I think things are finally looking up"

*10 hours later*

Y/n after the 'promotion':

(that's it for my yapping session for today. If you guys like this or what more please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[skynights2]

Rich and Patty hall- Husband and Wife=Huggy and Kissy update

(spoiler chapter 4 near end)

so far

Chapter 2 confirms Rich has a note with hearts to call patty hall.

Chapter 3 Rich mentions he has a wife, and he is trying to be better for her! So with the in game clue left for us. Small piece each chapter. This points to Rich and patty being husband and wife as a strong Possibility. The only two character who are married in the employee list that we know of from the documents/vhs tapes.. Also noted Rich last name is never revealed and his year date on vhs. So this could mean slow big reveal.

It's never confirmed why Patty was defiant against the company.. But if Rich is the first who goes missing.. Then his wife would most likely get frustrated with no one knowing where Rich went. and we know from chapter 4 vhs they confirm they cover up missing people who worked in poppy playco company.. So patty not gonna get any answers unless she get their attention.. and she did...when they sent her to storage B, where we know Kissy is stored.. As documents state Patty hall has been dealt with...

Though not fully- As even when she becomes Kissy she still helping us the player, breaking the rules against the company that took her husband and also turned her into toy.

I am not sure Rich-huggy is aware of his wife fate... notice in game. both the bigger bodies of Huggy and Kissy have not interacted all game.

Rich statement- he trying to be better for her, his wife who he loves.. I could see this might be the turning point for rich/huggy turning on the prototype.

Also interesting thing in chapter 3 Rich mention he feels like everyone out to get him before he promoted..

From the doey clue, I think he might found huggy and patched him up. As when doey sees kissy. He is shocked and mentions to get the medic. They are also short supply down there.

Though other strong possibility is rich repaired himself with duct tape. As we know he worked in shipping, and what do box need when closed? tape and lots of it.

What could be end goal for Huggy and Kissy fate though in probably the last chapter?

Well from clue it's possible Patty was thinking of adoption, and Rich was aware. As chapter 3 Kissy is shown looking at one the children picture-possible one of the kids she would adopted if not turned into kissy.

And we do have a child, that being Poppy.

Poppy is a child as even in recent vhs tapes she states she misses her dad. When poppy starts to have a breakdown. Kissy concern for poppy over her own fear shows. Showing patty care for the child breaking infront of her. In the newest tapes Rich is shown looking out for his younger employee. and calls him kid. So to me this shows rich and patty might have adopted a child if not what happen to both of them. As in chapter 3 kissy was shown aggressive when we neared the abandons orphanage area.. And she know what they do the children in here.

As kissy stays behind to follow poppy and protect her from the prototype. She shows concern like a mother looking out for her child.

As we see her hang on the cliff ledge after she looses her right arm. choosing to stay behind and go after Poppy.

kinda symbolic now both of them have lost their arm. Kissy right arm, and Huggy left arm.

The only thing left is to See if Rich realize his Wife is also down here with him... Maybe they threaten Rich to behave or they turn his wife like they did him.. Rich did escape to some unknown house.. probably his house.. where he and patty lived.. Trying to go back to her.. but probably realizing his appearance would scare her nor would she recognize him while she was still human at the time.

Would explain Rich anger issue/behavior doing 180 for the company. Better for his wife safety. once they realized. He was patient all those years and showed no mercy in the hour of joy..

I think in the end when they reunite, after learning the truth.. Could maybe get them fixed up by the player, and poppy is adopted by Rich and patty..

[archer-kacey]

Recording a Poppy Chapter 4 discussion tomorrow. For those that don't peruse my Youtube, short overview of what I thought, both good and bad, in terms of story:

OH my dear God they overfilled their character roster this time around. Pianosaurus and the Nightmare Critters were CONFIRMED as added in later and this DIRECTLY affected the amount of time that could be spent on other characters

The Doctor was not very directly intimidating, and couldn't have too much development in favor of Doey. One of his tapes literally had him getting stuck in a computer via other staff to keep him at bay and the only way he really attacks us is via computer drones that look like they crawled out of Hazbin Hotel. There wasn't enough time for two main villains and it really showed unfortunately

Yarnaby was great...when he showed up. Again, his screen time was eaten up by either other characters or a game-breaking glitch that caused him not to spawn in. And then he lights on fire and dies. Holy crap Lois

Despite all of the aforementioned, everything about Doey was great. The introductory cutscene to the chapter, his interactions with the player, how he acted as a three-person amalgamation (basically acting like three brothers trying to keep each others' emotions in check lol,) and the Safe Haven. Losing the Safe Haven meant he lost his family, his everything, and from a story perspective it really shot the last flutter of hope we had down into hell. Beautiful, loved it.

Hoppy Hopscotch mention?? (She was apparently part of the Safe Haven and then I assume she was killed at some point defending it...? ...Because we never encounter her. Also unsure if the Reconnaissance Reports from the Notes we pick up are hers or Scout's.)

Kissy I love you please don't die

Can people stop villainizing Poppy for running away at the end we're literally playing as a probably kinda bad person. Thank yew

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hi!! I absolutely LOVE your writing, you do such an amazing job!! I was wondering, if you have the time and are taking requests, could you do how each character cuddles with MC? Can be platonic or romantic, and I was wondering if you could also add professors. Thank you so much, I hope it's not to much to ask!! Have a great day/night!!❤️

A/N: romantic cuddling for the friends, platonic cuddle/hugs for the professors :3

HLC CUDDLE HEADCANNONS

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: This boy is a snake. Full body wrapped around MC like a python. He won't let go easily, either. But he's warm and gives many kisses, so the entrapment is worth it.

OMINIS GAUNT: Physical touch has rarely led to good things in his life so MC will need to be patient with him. Once their relationship is to the point that he feels safe with them, he cuddles with his hands constantly mapping their body. He will have every part of them committed to memory.

ANNE SALLOW: She likes laying on top of them with her face on their chest. She finds their heartbeat soothing. She also likes hearing it speed up when she's feeling cheeky.

IMELDA REYES: Physical touch isn't one of her love languages, so she doesn't go out of her way to cuddle them. She doesn't reject it, She finds MC's affection cute, but she'll be reading or messing with her wand while she lays there with MC attached.

NATSAI ONAI: She is the big spoon. She must protecc. She whispers all sorts of sweet nothing's while she's holding them and gives little neck kisses.

GARRETH WEASLEY: Cuddling him is dangerous because MC never knows what he'll do. This goof can't help but make MC laugh. He loves hearing it. He'll boop their nose, lick their face, even tickle them for a reaction.

LEANDER PREWETT: Long boi with long limbs. MC is tangled in him with little hope of getting away. He has quite the wingspan, so even if MC is on the other side of the bed, he can just casually reach over and yoink them to his side.

AMIT THAKKAR: Hope MC likes his voice, cause he's a talker. MC is his captive audience and he will go on and on and ON about just about anything. Mostly astronomical topics, but he goes off on tangents.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He's the little spoon. Doesn't matter how tall MC is compared to him. They could be the longest mfer or just a little backpack, he loves them either way. He feels held.

POPPY SWEETING: Smol. Turns into a ball like a little hedgehog. Might get lost in the cushions or blankets, so hold tight. Also a bit of a squirmer, sometimes struggles to get comfortable. She'll settle down eventually.

~~~~

ELEAZAR FIG: Dad. Hugs. Like, sit on the couch under his arm, dad hugs. Warm and comforting and loving. MC will likely fall asleep.

MATILDA WEASLEY: She's not too much of a hugger, but she won't deny one if MC asks. They'll be short but comforting.

CHIYO KOGAWA: She's not much of a hugger but if MC really needs one, she'll oblige. Might be a bit awkward, but she means well.

AESOP SHARP: MC will have to be strategic. First, gain his trust. That's the hard part. Second, catch him in a good mood. Third, MC must ask ONLY when no one else is around. His affection is very private. Fourth, (optional step) liquid luck.

ABRAHAM RONEN: Favorite Uncle vibes. Playful bear hugs that crush ribs and pick MC up off their feet. Best hugs for when MC needs a laugh.

MIRABEL GARLICK: Very much a hugger. MC can hold her as long as they need to. Let all their worries and stress melt away in her genuine embrace.

MUDIWA ONAI: She gives the best Mom hugs MC could ever experience. She'll go so far as to hug MC in her lap and rock them like a child, even if MC is tall.

BAI HOWIN: If MC needs affection, she suggests they seek out mooncalves or puffskiens.

DINAH HECAT: She is more affectionate than she lets on. If MC is stressed and needs a hug, she offers one without prompting.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He's a ghost. Move along.

SATYAVATI SHAH: She's not an affectionate person. MC will get more warmth from a glacier.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: If MC knows what's good for them, they won't touch him. Ever.

[m0chisenpai]

P.Y.T ( Pretty Young Thing)

Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

42!Miles Morales x black!reader

Warning(s): nothing too crazy. just a bit of cursing

Honestly it’s giving Poppy and Branch

You stuck out like a sore thumb in Miles’ life. A bright pink, bedazzled thumb. He’ll never forget the first moment he saw you, well saw you again. He was out after school with some of the boys, and he saw you with your girls. You two crossed paths once or twice in middle school before you transferred for a bit to one of those downtown academies.

He recalls how you were the oreo that could answer any chem question without flinching at the sheer amount of conversion and what not involved.

You didn’t bag an eye or flinch at the harsh comments, the nickname that made Miles grind his teeth. How’s it your fault you were top three in the science department?

Yet here you were, your hands covered your glossy pink lips that spilled with a laugh that Miles wanted to hear more of. Your nails gleamed with bright charms and some cartoon characters and your other hand tossed a loose bang from your face.

You changed but he still saw the bright pink braces girl with various cartoon charms dangling from her purple kanken.

You all headed into the bodega and he and his boys followed in behind you. One of them said he needed to hit your friends up about something and it was coincidence because the two of you were reintroduced.

Miles found it endearing how despite your loud and boisterous behavior when the two of you got introduced, here you stood quiet as a mouse looking anywhere but at Miles.

You held a pack of candy in one hand and a bottle of water in the other while your groups spoke behind you as you stepped up to pay. But Miles caught your frustration as you dug into your purse.

“I got you” he stepped in and tapped his phone before you could protest.

“Thanks Miles I’m so sorry, next time it’s on me” you give him a smile as you slide the back into the book of your arm.

And it's then when he realizes how much he's missed you since middle school.

“Nah it’s all good you know I got you” his eyes watch as you fidget with your nails and he can’t help but smirk and gently bump you. “Why you acting shy? Used to hear you all the time in the halls.”

You gawk up at him and smack him in the arm. And he notes how your hand lingers a bit. It’s all the confirmation he needs.

“Morales how dare you! You look annoyed I didn’t want to bother you.. and who said you could get so tall.” You crossed your arms.

“I don’t think you could bother me.” And the way you look up at him is enough to know he’s got you wrapped around his finger just as you do him.

“And no one told you to stink your growth with all that coffee.”

“Hey!”

Before you part ways Miles gets your new number and makes sure to save his into your phone.

You slowly find yourself bleeding back into Miles’ life. Short texts get longer. You’re sending hearts within four months, and Mama Rio knows your special knock when you enter the apartment to wait for Miles. She feeds you when you stay the long nights and Mr.Morales doesn’t want you going home for your safety.

When he comes home from his shifts he would stop you before you were heading out and tells you that you might as well stay the night. He was the same gentle giant you remember from back in middle school and he welcomes you into his home with open arms just as he did before.

He’s always quick to give your pops and mom and text when you do stay the night and they’re more than appreciative.

Miles bought a blanket just for you when you slept over on the couch. It’s fleece, pink and covered in a my melody pattern. He even provides a silk pillow in a matching shade cause he knows you won't sleep with a mix matched set. He pulls it up and tucks it in when he sees you fast asleep coming in from a job, and fixes your bonnet before it slips off.

You go from Y/N in his phone to Mi Tesoro.

You’re leaving lip gloss and lashes on his desk and taking jackets of his with you. He’s walking you to the bus and won’t leave till he sees you on it safely and watches your location till you’re in the house.

You begin to show back up in his sketches but he won’t show you. His sketchbook is intimate and when he does slowly show you his pieces your heart swells up.

You always were done up, but on the days when you weren’t Miles still swore you were beautiful. With lashes and without. With a full face or bare. Nails on and off. You were his whole world.

Miles knew about the dudes you used to mess with. He was smart when he could apply himself and he knew that while the relationships ended in good terms and there was no bad blood you settled. And he wasn’t going to build your relationship with him off of settling.

No, you deserved the world and therefore he was going to give it. Because you have him the same treatment in return with zero hesitation.

So when he’s planning to ask you to be his girl. He goes all out.

After school, as always, he asks if you can come by tonight. You agree but today he wants to go up on the roof and you quickly agree. But when you go up it’s different. It’s illuminated and the trail of candles lead you to your usual spot near the edge. But it’s set up with a blanket and atop it are a bouquet of roses and the large strawberry hello kitty you were raving on the phone about last week.

“I’m not the best with words or my emotions. But I know that I couldn’t let this feeling est me anymore. So I had to draw it.” Miles nods his head and you look up at the brick wall and gasp at the sight of…you. But it’s more ethereal, you want to ask Miles how he did such a beautiful portrait but he’s guiding you to look back at him with misty eyes.

“Be mine, please? My girl, my baby.”

And your hand covers your mouth like the first time but your nodding quickly and throw your arms around him and tuck yourself under his jaw.

“Miles you're lucky I used my good setting spray!” you smack his chest as he pulls you into his chest and guides your lips to his in a gentle peck.

“Sorry love I couldn’t help” he smirks down at you.

“Don’t look at me like that” you pout and push softly against him. And he tilts his hand to look down at you.

“Like what hm? How am I looking at you?” And you rolls your eyes and pull him to plant another kiss to his lips.

Tonight he doesn’t chide you about the residue your gloss leaves behind. He’ll wear it with pride. Tonight and the next days to come.

He wonders if they’ll always be like this. He hopes they are.

Because moments like this are always fleeting.

[vampykween]

Second Chances (part 1)

i wanted to write about singledad!ghost x teacher!reader (which is so self indulgent as im a teacher hehe) and thus this was born summary: little poppy is simon riley's entire world and you've just had yours turned completely upside down. despite everything, it seems like everything falls into place when you're with each other. this is going to be a little series - i already have a few drabbles written and have l more ideas up my sleeve, but feel free to let me know all of yall's ideas too!! dedicated to @suimon since you love my dad!ghost so much hehe mwah

Simon is just short of pulling his hair out. He’s spent all morning wrestling with a five-year old who, last night was bouncing off the walls excited about her first day of school, but now is inconsolable and quite frankly working his last nerve.

“Poppy, love, please just get dressed. We don’t have all morning for you to mess about.”

Poppy shrugs her shoulders and blows a raspberry right in her father’s face. “Let me go, I’m not going to school,” the five-year old squirms in her father’s grasp, less than thrilled at the prospect of getting dressed for school.

Simon briefly considers whether he should invest any more energy into their morning battle or if he should just concede and let his daughter win this round. Despite her protests, he keeps his hold on Poppy and tries his best to calm her down enough to reason with her. Sometimes Simon couldn’t believe this was his life, he was tussling with his daughter about getting ready for school, when in a past life all he was ever worried about was backing his team throughout a mission. He used to be a trained killer now the only thing he’s an expert at is making silly voices for all the book characters at bedtime.

“You were so excited about school just last night, what happened lovie, what’s going on with you?”

Poppy just stares at him with her big doe eyes, the ones that look exactly like her mother’s, and makes Simon’s chest ache painfully. It’s moments like these that make him feel like the grief would never end.

After a drawn-out minute, she finally squeaks out, “What if I don’t like school? What if people are mean to me?” Simon’s heart breaks at his little girl’s admission, he, of course, worried about those things too; he wasn’t sure he even wanted to send her off for hours every day, but he also knew that Poppy could handle it.

Simon grasps both of her much smaller hands, “You’re the best girl I know, what’s not to love yeah? I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends, sweetheart.” Simon isn’t sure who he’s reassuring more at this point, but he’ll say anything to get them both through this day and all the ones that come.

Poppy sighs loudly and by something short of a miracle, she concedes with getting dressed; Simon let her pick out her own outfit, in hopes that it would rekindle her previous excitement. It helped, but only marginally.

Standing in the doorway of the classroom, is not the teacher Simon had been expecting. When he thought of teachers, he imagined either super strict, uptight older women or bright and bubbly young women fresh out of university. You were neither of those – you wore a bright smile that reached your eyes, and your voice had the most warm and comforting lilt to it. Contrastingly, you were dressed head to toe in an all-black outfit, but it didn’t make you look dark and dreary, no, on you it worked quite well. Poppy finally, but reluctantly revealed herself from behind her father’s legs, and stepped forward to greet her new teacher.

“Hi! What’s your name?” you were clearly not from anywhere near, and Poppy immediately comments on it.

“My name is Poppy, like the flower, and you talk very funny.”

Simon groaned, “Poppy, that’s not very polite, love.”

“No, no it’s alright. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that this morning,” you laugh breezily, not affronted by the little girl’s observation. The sound of your laugh is like a mirage in a desert, and Simon is taken aback at how much the sound affected him. You crouch down and introduce yourself to Poppy, then rise to greet Simon as well. You hold out your hand, clearly in an attempt to shake his, and he shakes his head to clear his stupor and takes your hand. Your hands are much smaller than his own, and much softer, not calloused from battlefields and the hardships of life.

❀

You hope you’re coming off as a well put together adult, one who’s supposed to be in charge of people’s most precious gifts. Threatening to ruin your façade is the fact that you’re shaking hands with quite possibly the hottest man you’ve seen since you upturned your life and moved to London a few months ago. This is your student’s dad, jesus get a grip, you hastily remind yourself. You can’t help yourself though, and your eyes are roaming over his massive hands searching for a wedding band. You’re not sure whether it’s a good thing or not when you see there isn’t one. He’s hot, but he’s got a child, and you’ve just had your heart shattered into a million pieces this summer. The last thing you need is to be lusting after your student’s unreasonably hot father.

You’re not even sure you want to be here; nothing had gone the way you planned and now you’re a million miles away from your family – who had forewarned you that your ex maybe was not worth moving across the world for, but you were in love, you didn’t want to hear that.

Poppy, who seemingly gained some confidence, breezes past her father and finds her way easily into the classroom. You looked back up at her father, realizing you hadn’t caught his name – he tilts his head ever so slightly at you as if he’s trying to discreetly assess you and it makes your palms sweat.

“I didn’t catch your name, can’t call you Poppy’s dad all year now, can I?” you prod causally, laughing despite the stifling air that was forming between you two.

“You can call me Simon,” he replies elusively and suddenly you’re overcome with the feeling that there’s something mysterious about this man – and as attractive as he is, the revelation also makes you feel unnerved.

taglist: @happy-mushrooms @lunamoonbby

banners from @reveriesources and @cafekitsune pic creds: @ave661

[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)

[melestasflight]

Arafinwëan Reading List

compiled by Melesta, in no particular order, for @arafinwean-week. Why not find someone new to read?

Wanderlust by @cuarthol The finrodest Finrod. Finrod the explorer, the one who seeks and finds beauty in all things. Fenomenal worldbuilding.

Finrod: 30-Day Character Study also by @cuarthol An in-depth exploration of Finrod’s character, canon analysis, headcanons, beautiful written and visual creations to inspire.

Many a Dreadful Path, part of the Atandil series by @eilinelsghost Beren comes to Nargothrond in hope and grief, and stirs Finrod’s oath to wakefulness. The entire Atandil series is a masterpiece, but this segment is fresh in my mind and had me gasping.

keepsake by @welcomingdisaster Another fantastic piece on Finrod and his Bëorians over the generations. A family archeology and a nice dose of heart-wrench. 

The Gift by @fadesintothewest An oldie but goodie, pairing my beloved Finrod with Russingon. Full of magic, songs, eroticism and all that good Finwëan rebelliousness.    

Little Lords of the Brine by @eilinelsghost One more by frankie that’s close to my heart: Finrod and Orodreth reborn, all feelings and a new beginning.

Let Not My Love Be Called Idolatry by @sallysavestheday In a Dark Wood Wandering by @elentarial Speaking of Orodreth, I have been thoroughly sold on the appeal of the Orodreth/Túrin ship, particularly by these two stories.

Across So Wide a Sea by @emyn-arnens Half-way through this Galadriel epistolary piece and loving it so much already. Digging into the little-explored “what after Beleriand.” 

Scion of— by @gwaedhannen A short thing that, nevertheless, bites. On Galadriel and the newest High King of the Noldor.

Tapestry of Years by @niennawept The Patience of the Oak by @imakemywings I have a weak spot for all things Galadriel/Melian and these two pieces tick every box about this ship.

Snakes and Ladders by @polutrope A Valinor smut burlesque featuring the Arafiinwëans and their respective Fëanorian lovers. Young Artanis under polu's pen is quite something, trust me.   

empty spaces by @queerofthedagger An angst fest of the highest quality, starting with papa Finarfin and going down the line. This one has me in a chokehold.

in the hills of dorthonion by @emyn-arnens More by Arveldis because they are my go-to Aegnor/Andreth writer. Stories full of feelings, of gorgeous nature, of all the bittersweetness that keeps this pairing so close to my heart.

Fire Dance by justonelastdance Aegnor/Fingon, tethering on that sweet border between friendship and romance, is a pairing that I have been stuck on for ages and justonelastdance finally made my dreams come through.

Sundering by @zealouswerewolfcollector Fingon faces the Arafiinwëans in the aftermath of his participation in the kinslaying at Alqualondë. I’ve read this 3 times, at least.  

Song of Sirion by @welcomingdisaster I learned to love Finduilas with this fic. Featuring long journeys, battles, dogs and her emerging friendship with Edrahil. 

one whole with my other by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor Indis rules, endures, lives, until one by one, her beloved people return to her from the Halls. And yes, she is on this list, because without the matriarch there would be no Arafinwëan anything. 

The Forest House by @balrogballs Every Blessed Mark by @searchingforserendipity25 Two gorgeous Celrond pieces, my comfort pairing, featuring love, scars and the complexity of all things endurance over the ages.

Some of my own attempts to tackle the Arafiinwëans:

Voices That Were Once Ours Finrod and Maglor rebuild a friendship and compose the Noldolantë. 

crowned with the Sun Celeborn expects his first meeting with the golden Noldo princess to be a tense diplomatic ordeal. He’s quickly proven wrong.

as a naked flame and The Golden Poppies of Dorthonion Aegnor and Andreth, Edain lore and foresight.

Stay, Forever and filled with wonder and delight Celebrían and Elrond, falling in love, staying in love.

Scion of Kings  Finduilas and Orodreth at the doorstep of Nargothrond’s fall.

seducing the Edain Finrod, Aegnor and Fingon at Barad Eithel, co-written with @polutrope

This list is most definitely incomplete -- I pulled only what was in my recent-ish bookmarks. Always looking for more recs.

[aerkame]

Just a silly thought...and more

Just a silly little thought I had on Wally headcanons while I was trying to take a nap. EDIT: This turned into a short fanfiction, I will now have to make this a full one, there's too much potential.

So like Wally comes off as super out of it when it comes to our world almost. Like he's never been outside of the show, he's so used to being in Welcome Home with all his friends. Wally also seems like he's the only one truly sentient of himself within the show and the outside world.

He also seems pretty smug, or some other version of him does, No doubt Wally's ego has to be through the roof with being the center of attention all the time. Not only that, but he gets to spend all day with each and every one of his friends!

I'd imagine that if one day some poor unfortunate reader just accidentally brings home all of the puppets thinking they're ordinary puppets and wakes up early in the morning to these very odd and colorful strangers in their house. Like the puppets just came to life looking like their cartoon versions of themselves and also became life-sized, even some of the shorter characters just tower over you easily, and Barnaby can hardly fit through any of the doors!

Wally is sitting at the edge of your bed staring at you with Barnaby sleeping against his legs, Frank is looking at your shelves reading through books, sketchbooks, etc, Sally being more interested in the sketchbooks, Julie found some workout equipment and is playing with a jump rope, both Poppy and Howdy are rummaging through the kitchen, already antsy about needing to make stuff, Eddie is pretty interested in your printer, and you're sitting up in bed getting ready to scream bloody murder.

You don't scream though, but you're ready to. You can't tell if you're dreaming or not. Dreams are usually a pretty trippy falling feeling right? This feels real though. Where's that weird falling feeling you get when dreaming? Why are you able to think so clearly? Your brows furrow in deep thought.

Wally just sits there smugly smiling at you, leaning forward to give you a hello, he's so tall you feel like a small child compared to him. "Hello, I'm sorry that we had to meet like this, I hope you don't mind." His voice sounds soothing, monotone, and deep, and he isn't blinking. Instinctively, you slap your hand on his face and keep it there, feeling his expression scrunch up in confusion.

Nope, not a dream.

He gently takes your hand in his and removes you from his face, a small red area showing up where you slapped him.

It took about an hour of talking you down from being freaked out for Wally and the others to introduce themselves. They had sooo many questions of course. Like "What is this thing that makes colored paper come out?", "Why do you have these heavy thingies?" Sally holds up a 50lbs dumbbell with one hand like it's nothing, or "Why aren't you more colorful like us? Ooo can we cover you in paint?"

Needless to say you also had a lot of questions too, none of them were really answered though as all of the colorful characters were busy inspecting your house or were preoccupied with asking you about all sorts of items, they were like little kids. Wally was the only one that seemed to be the more mature one here though, it felt off, like he already knew you or like he was used to this.

At dinner, you went ahead and made food for everyone while also showing Poppy how you cook in this world. You noticed Wally didn't touch anything but the food simply disappeared right before your eyes, leaving you slack-jawed and speechless. "Oh don't worry, that's just how he eats!" Sally waved off your concern. This was starting to freak you out a bit.

After dinner you did your best to find places in the house for everyone to sleep until Wally suggested they all just sleep in your room like one big sleepover...something told you that he just wanted an excuse to be closer to you or to be able to keep a close watch though. Que you being squished in between these giant softies like a kid hiding in a giant pillow fort. Barnaby did make for a comfortable pillow though, and Poppy's feathers were so soft...and..and..you dozed off, not taking notice of Wally's staring eyes.

Sure, Wally has his friends to keep him company, and Welcome Home is such a cheery and colorful world! But it's missing just one thing. You.