#mentions of rory queens

[screamintoad]

I Wish I Was You

A/n: I started this ages ago but since I’m stuck on bed rest I finally finished it, hence the pacing changing about halfway through

  The SDC has come to an end and the team has returned to campus. Some with heavier hearts than others about the events that had transpired. Blanche solemnly followed behind her peers to their dorm. She lagged behind Epel as Vil and Rook led the way to the mirror portal. Rook was the first to notice her change in demeanor, he continued walking but turned to look at her. He took note of her slouch and dragging footsteps. “Is everything okay, Petit Rouge?” Now Vil paused his steps altogether. “Blanche?” He called out a little louder than Rook’s question. “Hm?” Blanche blinked and shot her head up from the floor. “What’s up?” She wondered. Vil sighed and shook his head. He waved for Epel to go on ahead through the mirror. Epel rolled his eyes but a stern look made him go. Vil turned back to Blanche, “What’s up is you. You’ve been out of it since we got back.” He looked between the mirror and the bottom of the stairs leading from the mirror chamber. “Do you want to go to your special spot?” He asked, any possible criticism is long gone. She glanced in the same direction as him. “Are you sure?” Her voice faltered, “After everything that happened I want to make sure you’re okay.” Rook noticed the atmosphere and also went through the mirror.

  Vil gave her a closed smile, “I’m fine. If you need your time then take it, just don’t be out too long after dark. You’re still my sister after all.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “By bond, not blood.” Blanche stated. Vil shushed her, “I’ve had a long week let me have this.” They laughed at their antics and finally Blanche took a step back down, “Thank you, I…think I need to clear my head.” Vil nodded along. “Go on, but remember what I said. Don’t be out too long after dark.” “I won’t.” She assured him. At that, she made her way back down the stairs and out of the mirror chamber.

  She ventured past the gates that surrounded the campus and continued on her way down an overgrown path. Soon enough she made it to a clearing in the forest that showed off a beautiful meadow. She fell back onto the soft grass and let out a sigh she didn’t realize she was holding. She pulled herself up to sit and pulled her knees toward her. The thoughts of this week’s events came flooding back to her. The SDC, losing the SDC, Vil’s overblot, almost losing Vil. It was all too much.

  Too much in such a short time.

  Tears slowly began rolling down her cheeks and onto her skirt. A nearby bird chirping caught her attention until a hand reached out to wipe a tear off her face. Blanche jolted before seeing who it was, a pair of familiar aurora eyes shone brightly in the sunlight as they peered into her own violet ones. “Are you okay?” His soft voice wasn’t strange to her but this time it was laced with concern. “Uhm…yes, yes! I’m fine. Thank you Silver.” A moment passed with him examining her every move. She felt her face flush with embarrassment and huddled closer to herself. “You seem physically fine. What happened to make you cry?” She waved him off. “It’s nothing you need to fret over.” 

  He shook his head and sat beside her, “It’s not “nothing” if it made you upset.” She dug her nails into her palms and chewed the inside of her cheek. 

  Casted in the warm glow of the meadow, the two blurted out a statement that the other couldn’t believe, “I wish I was you.”

 Blanche’s expression widened into shock, “What? Why? I’m a mess, I’m sometimes rude and brash.” Silver put his hand on her shoulder to pause her prattling. “Those are true, but you’re also incredibly kind and honest. I wish I could make friends as easily as you.” Blanche forced back a smile, “And I wish I was as brave and strong as you. Maybe then I could’ve saved Vil.” Silver shook his head, “I don’t think anything could’ve changed those events.” Blanche quirked a brow, “You know about his overblot?” He nodded, “The young master mentioned it when he came back to the dorm. He said that Rory had told him about it when he arrived.” She hummed in acknowledgment. 

  A few moments of silence passed before Silver spoke up again. “You’re so bright and warm towards the people around you. Even if you don’t know them, you’ll still help out those in need. That’s admirable. I wish I could do it as well.” Blanche couldn’t hide her smile anymore, “If anything you’re more admirable, with your bravery and courage, your kindness and honor. You’re the epitome of a knight out of a fairy tale.” The young man shared her smile.

  They basked in the peace until Silver began to doze off. Blanche didn’t notice until she felt his head flop onto her shoulder. She looked between him and the setting sun before begrudgingly shaking him awake. He jolted upright and looked around as if something was going to attack him. “Everything’s fine! You fell asleep so I woke you up. That way you’re not heading back to your dorm too late.” She assured him. Silver sleepily nodded. He dragged himself up to his feet and held out his hand to her, “Let me escort you to the mirrors, please. I don’t quite want our time to end yet.”

  Blanche’s face felt like it was on fire, she could only imagine how red her face was. Yet, she still gently took his hand. He pulled her up onto her feet and she knew one thing. 

  If anything were to happen, she would be safe with him.

  They continued some small talk as they walked. In the glory of the setting sun, silver admired gold and gold loved silver.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

jess mariano fic where they bicker a lot and the whole town is tired of it (especially luke 💀) and fem!reader calls him sunshine because he's so obviously NOT sunshine and he calls her princess and they're so mean but also they're in love your honor (pre-dating)?????

thank you so much for the request love!!

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Jess hated each other, and the town was tired of it.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Jess Mariano x Reader

You were wiping down the counter at Luke’s, rolling your eyes for the hundredth time that morning as you listened to Jess clatter dishes in the back. Since the day he showed up in Stars Hollow, you’d been at war. He had this knack for getting under your skin, always with some snarky remark or that cocky grin that made you want to throw a coffee pot at his head.

And, of course, Luke—bless his exhausted heart—thought it would be a good idea for you to train Jess when he started working at the diner. Which meant you were stuck with him every shift.

"Careful, Princess," Jess muttered as he brushed past you, grabbing plates to bring out to a table. "Wouldn’t want you to break a nail."

You shot him a glare, biting back the urge to snap something worse. "Please, Sunshine, if I wanted your advice, I’d ask for it."

He turned to face you, an eyebrow quirked. "Sunshine?" Jess's voice dripped with sarcasm as he leaned in, so close you could smell the faintest hint of cigarettes and the leather of his jacket. "You’ve got jokes now?"

"Oh, yeah. You’re just a ray of joy, aren’t you?" You crossed your arms, refusing to back down.

"I’m not the one acting like I’m too good for this place," he retorted, eyes narrowing in that familiar way that made your blood boil. "I get it, you were the queen of Stars Hollow High, but guess what? No one cares here."

Your jaw clenched at the mention of your high school reputation. The "popular girl" label was something you'd worked hard to leave behind, and Jess wielded it like a weapon, knowing exactly how much it pissed you off.

"Maybe if you stopped acting like an arrogant jerk for five minutes, people wouldn’t hate you so much." You shot back, shoving a coffee mug into his hand.

"And maybe if you stopped pretending to be perfect, Princess, you wouldn’t be so insufferable." Jess’s smirk tugged at his lips as he called you the nickname he knew you hated most.

Before you could fire back, Luke’s voice boomed from across the diner. “Will you two stop for five minutes?!”

You turned, wide-eyed, just as Jess casually flipped the mug in his hand, and—of course—it slipped. The ceramic hit the floor with a sharp crack.

Luke threw his arms in the air. “Again?! Another mug? I can’t afford this many replacements just because you two can’t flirt like normal people!”

“Flirt?” you and Jess echoed in unison, horrified at the very suggestion.

You were about to respond when the door swung open again, and Lorelai entered, taking one look at the scene before shaking her head. “Oh, God. They’re at it again.” She grabbed Rory’s arm and started pulling her out of the diner. “Let’s go, Rory. It’s way too early for this.”

“But my pancakes—”

“We’ll get pancakes at Al’s. Come on.”

Luke groaned audibly from behind the kitchen window. “Can you two please just get along for one shift? Is that too much to ask?”

You shot Luke a look. "Tell that to your nephew. He’s the one who acts like he owns the place."

“Maybe because I’m the only one here who actually does any work,” Jess quipped, smirking as he leaned against the counter beside you, arms crossed.

Your fists clenched, resisting the urge to knock the smug look off his face. "You're insufferable."

“And you’re spoiled.” His words were harsh, but there was something flickering beneath his tone, something softer, hidden behind the sharp edges of his sarcasm.

“Jess,” Luke warned from the kitchen, his patience thinning by the second. “I swear to God, if you two don’t quit it—”

But you couldn’t stop yourself. Something about Jess made your blood boil, but in a way that also made your heart race. Maybe it was the way he never backed down from you, always meeting your fire with his own. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you—like he was challenging you, daring you to push back.

"I’d rather be spoiled than miserable like you," you shot back, fully aware of how cruel it sounded.

Jess’s smirk faded, and for a second, just a second, you saw something crack in his expression. He stepped closer, voice lower, more serious. "Yeah? Well, at least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not."

Your heart thudded in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was anger or something else entirely. But the way he was looking at you now, eyes locked on yours, made your stomach flip.

Suddenly, you felt like you were standing on the edge of something dangerous.

"You don’t know anything about me," you whispered, hating how breathless you sounded.

"I know enough," he muttered, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable for once. His gaze flickered to your lips for a split second before he looked away, jaw clenched.

Before you could respond, Luke stormed over, slamming a towel onto the counter between the two of you. "Enough. Both of you. I’m not going to let you ruin this diner with whatever—" He gestured between you and Jess, flustered. "This is."

Jess backed away first, his usual arrogance slipping back into place. "Whatever you say, Uncle Luke."

You scoffed, shaking your head as you grabbed the coffee pot and moved to refill a customer’s mug. But as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and Jess. Something electric, something dangerous.

And maybe, just maybe, that was exactly why you couldn’t stay away from him.

@honesttogodbimbo your request is pretty much this only so check this out and you can tell me if you want something different instead! 💗

[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)

[azerinbouee]

If Donna stayed the Doctor's companion Part 2:

12th Doctor: *trying his best act* Look, Donna, So I am with monks now, I don't care about the Earth or your people...

Donna: You know I can tell the type of breakfast you had today from looking into your eyes at this point , right?

Donna: So wrap your acting up, we have an afternoon tea arranged at Jupiter after we get this monks out of the Planet.

12th Doctor: Can't you just play along for once...

-

12th Doctor: I can't tell Donna that I am blind! She will fuss over me!

Nardole: You need to tell her! How can you hide it?

12th Doctor: Trust me, she will not notice one single thing.

Donna: *the second she walks into TARDIS* You are still blind, aren't you?

12th Doctor: Oh for Time's sake...

_

11th Doctor: So, River is Amy and Rory's daughter and she is also my wife as well... Does that mean Amy is my in law?!

Donna: She can berate you Like a child at any time. Living my dream for real

_

Donna: ...

12th Doctor: Not another word-

Donna: WORLD PRESIDENT LOL *bursts out laughing while pointing at him*

Donna: UPGRADE FROM TIME LORD VICTORIOUS THO

12th Doctor: Oh hell.. *puts his head on his hands*

_

_

War Doctor: We are surrounded by knights, we need to do something to escape!

11th Doctor: Oh there is no need to espace. Watch. Donna?

Donna, from the portal: YOU STUPID SPACEBOY WHERE IN THE EARTH ARE YOU AND I AM COMING THERE TO KICK YOUR IDIOT ASS TO SPACE

Knights: *run away in true terror*

10th Doctor: It's like we never left...

_

12th Doctor: *after turning up on the coffee shop Donna's relaxing* So, remember Davros?

Donna: ... Of course I do.

12th Doctor: *laughing nervously while thinking how he fucked up* So Guess what...

_

10th Doctor: *getting married to Queen Elizabeth*

Donna and 11th whispering aggressively behind* : - I cannot believe you did not mention you were married to QUEEN ELIZABETH! -.OBVIOUSLY i diDN'T KNOW!-

_

12th Doctor: So this is Gallifrey!

Donna: I thought it was Space Eden or something from the way you described it, this is just red sand. Like literal Azirona has more eccentric places than here.

12th Doctor: ...i sincerely want to believe I will be able to impress you one day because this is killing me.

_

Donna: So...

12th Doctor: ...

Donna: Why did you kidnap the president's wife?

12th Doctor: Oh, Heaven, you had a conversation with Missy, didn't you?

Donna: I literally have enough material in my hand to embarrase you for at least one regeneration, yeah.

Missy: She is my favorite.

_

13th Doctor: *steals Donna's coats every once in a while and does not give the clothes back*

Donna: *rants to her about that but secretly loves it*

_

12th Doctor: Clara, please be rational and give the TARDIS keys to me.

Donna: *whispers to Doctor* Not to interrupt an emotional moment but she does know you can just snap your fingers and get into TARDIS doesn't she?

12th Doctor: *shakes his head slightly*

Donna: Also that I have an extra key...

Donna: In fact I have a bowl of them because you like the noise the keys make when you drop it in there

Donna: But I guess this is what we are doing because you like to see people in angst. Okay.

[moonsceptre]

Alchemy & Dreams in Beetlejuice Part 2

As mentioned in the last post, red represents Lydia: the material realm & sulphur. The item which falls next to Astrid's cracked photograph is a molecular structure with a red atom and a green atom. It's already common knowledge that Betelgeuse is green-coded, but I have further proof to support the atom theory.

Alchemists viewed the human body (microcosm) as a reflection of the universe (macrocosm). This suggested that atoms could give insights about human nature. Within this context, consider Rosenkreutz illustration of the Chymical Wedding, where the married couple are holding onto the structure. They're supposed to represent two atoms of the same trigonal planar molecule, because they are of the same element, thus sharing a chemical bond.

Alchemy consists of a mix of chemistry, philosophy, semiotics, and metaphysics, with much of the symbolism used to convey alchemical themes in Beetlejuice.

Before I come back to this, let's talk about...

Otho

Throughout the first movie, Otho is typically associated with black and red. He's often wearing black with either a red tie, red buttons, or red shoes (which mysteriously disappear in a couple scenes only to be replaced by different colour shoes).

Red shoes have long been used in media to represent a metaphorical journey (The Red Shoes (1948), Kiki's Delivery Service (1989), and Hans Christian Andersen's The Red Shoes are a few examples). Need I remind you of one of Tim Burton's favourite movies, The Wizard of Oz?

Otho is the only character other than Lydia who piques interest in the dead. Despite his willingness to exploit them, he is ready to believe in their existence and study the handbook. These visual cues are conveying the character's motives.

Part of the alchemical process are the stages "Rubedo" and "Nigredo". Rubedo is Latin for "redness", the stage of understanding where two opposites have joined and created harmony. Nigredo is Latin for "blackness", the stage of putrefaction or decomposition, thus symbolising the dead. In layman's terms, red and black represent the character's willingness to connect with the dead. The only other character really associated with black and red is Lydia, and that speaks for itself.

Otho is a character who inspired the creation of Rory in the second movie. Within Lydia's psyche, Rory has been manifested from guilt. In the first film, Lydia is almost complicit in helping Otho to exorcise the Maitlands after he makes it clear that he wants to capitalise on the dead. In the second film, Lydia is under Rory's management to capitalise on the dead, and she is trying to make peace with that guilt by trying to help people through exorcisms.

Guilt in dreams is often seen as a manifestation of the unconscious mind's attempt to communicate unresolved internal conflicts. This is where the shadow becomes a central concept in Jungian psychology, referring to the parts of the Self that the conscious mind rejects or ignores. Lydia rejects the traits that Otho and Rory embody, and that is why her reconciliation with Astrid is a manifestation of her own forgiveness.

More on The Chemical Wedding

We talked about the purpose of the Chemical Wedding before, but why is it so relevant to the plot of Beetlejuice? Other than the fact Betelgeuse has fallen in love with Lydia, there is an allegorical reason for why the wedding must take place between these two, and no one else but these two.

A Chemical Wedding is the marriage between the sun and the moon. In alchemical texts they are often depicted as the white queen and the red king, though this has nothing to do with literal gender roles, for we see Lydia herself portrayed as the red king in her parallel with Astrid. It is related to the Anima (the female self) and the Animus (the male self). This is also the marriage between mercury and sulfur, spirit and matter, the dead and the living.

One of the most famous works on the subject of a Chemical Wedding is a Rosicrucian allegory published in 1616 by Christian Rosenkreutz. It describes a mystical journey where the main character must attend a wedding at a mysterious castle. The journey is a symbol of the alchemical process, while the wedding itself represents the final transformative stage.

The story is filled with strange and dreamlike imagery, with many claiming it as a source of German dark romanticism.

Rosenkreuz's allegory actually represents inner transformation of the individual, with marriage being used as a metaphor, insofar as the masculine and feminine halves must be merged together in matrimony to achieve completion within oneself.

"Death and the Maiden" trope is a motif that depicts a woman being taken by Death, as he desires to marry her. It is dire for death to marry his living bride, for he wishes to venture the living world and the underworld with her.

Betelgeuse is the perfect complementary opposite to Lydia, each crafted to embody the other's symbolic missing half. Betelgeuse is the animus; he's loud, provocative, and dead; Lydia is the anima; she's quiet, thoughtful, and alive. The contrast is straightforward and uncomplicated. You could easily spend hours analysing their differences, and you'd still be right—because they are deliberately written as foils to one another.

Looking back at how Otho/Rory represents the shadow of Lydia, we should take into account who guided her through this dream sequence. Our psyche creates these thought-images in our unconscious minds as a means to roleplay scenarios where we have internal conflict. It gives us a chance to psychoanalyse ourselves and try to understand the core of our trauma.

Betelgeuse, within Lydia's dream, is acting as a guide (remember his guide outfit in the first film?). He's constantly appearing to her, influencing her and urging her to face her fears. While he's causing chaos in the way he knows best, he's also showing Lydia the bare truth, and this is especially apparent when it comes to Rory: he tells Lydia she's an enabling codependent and forces Rory to tell the truth about his intentions. Betelgeuse is what Jung would refer to as the Trickster archetype. The Trickster is often seen as a figure that disrupts the status quo and challenges the Ego through chaotic and karmic actions, serving as a profound guide in the process of one's personal development. Think of "Jester's privilege", or The Fool in tarot.

In mythological symbolism, there comes the legend of a scorpion that stung Orion to death (the giant red star "Betelgeuse" sits on Orion's belt). The scorpion was delivered as to snub Orion's pride and teach him a lesson by way of death, because the scorpion is a symbol of death and rebirth. This is the Trickster archetype again, teaching a lesson in a very karmic way. Betelgeuse does the same throughout both movies. Otho, the Deetz, and the Deans are all punished by him in the first film for acting as antagonists against the ghosts of Winter River. Despite this, he also acts as an antagonist himself by punishing the Maitlands, two loving parental figures for Lydia, for getting in the way of his plan to marry her.

"They therefore represent a supreme pair of opposites, not hopelessly divided by logical contradiction but, because of the mutual attraction between them, giving promise of union and actually making it possible. The coniunctio oppositorum engaged the speculations of the alchemists in the form of the ‘Chymical Wedding," — Carl Jung, Psychology & Alchemy

In alchemical tradition, Saturn is associated with the metal lead, which symbolises the starting point of the alchemical work—the Nigredo phase. Alchemy is mostly known as the quest to turn lead into gold, but the allegorical meaning is to refine the Self. Saturn is equated with Cronos in mythology, the father of time, who was portrayed as an old man with a scythe/sickle, similar to the grim reaper, who is associated with the end of one's time. Betelgeuse has time-warping powers and wears time-keeping devices on his wrist, all a microcosm for how we measure eternity.

The whole Alchemical Opus works through THREE stages:

Nigredo (Black Stage): Betelgeuse represents lead and Saturn. Putrefaction.

Albedo (White Stage): Before Lydia summons Betelgeuse and agrees to the marriage, he is wearing a black and white suit. White is added to the mix. Purification.

Rubedo (Red Stage): Lydia is manifested a red wedding dress to finish the ceremony. They completed the alchemical process. Lead is turned into Gold.

In the movie's original wedding scene, found here, at 9:11 on the clock the afterlife creature who marries Lydia and Betelgeuse dissipates into fire, and then the scene ends. 911 in numerology is the number of completion, and is used in occultism to symbolise new beginnings and rebirth.

For this reason, it has been theorised that the wedding vows went through, and the Chemical Wedding was completed.

[matchalovertrait]

Me??????

Thank you to everyone who tagged me for the simblr appreciation 💗 That was @bouncytrait, @elderwisp, @catsinmugs, @bloomingkyras, @woohoojuicesimoleons2,

@spotlessssmiind, and @smulie :)

I am so happy you thought of me and I love your blogs too!!

I’d like to tag everyone, but I can’t do that. However, I can acknowledge all of you whose posts I come across every day! I make sure to hit the like button to let you know that there’s someone here waiting for your next post. If I haven’t been liking recent posts, it’s because I’m reading your story from the beginning. I’m an awfully slow reader, so my apologies. I like to take my time and not rush through the stories to ensure I understand everything and take in all the small details.

Also, I know it can be easy to become disillusioned on here but trust me, there are a lot of incredible people. I see them every day on my dash.

I’ll mention some of my friends here who inspire me. Um, it's kinda long:

@changingplumbob: I don’t know how she balances so many projects at once and does it all with love! Each one of her characters is unique and steals the spotlight. When it comes to her posts, I'm either philosophizing or laughing. It's also admirable how much research she puts into the stories she writes. You can definitely tell!

@deardiaryts4: I love people who do extra things for their sims just like me LOL. She doesn’t have to make a music video or album cover CC. Nor does she have to create actual code for us to solve a mystery, but she does it anyway because she's passionate! She gives it 110% every time with her intriguing story and gameplay.

@ruthplaysthesims goes DEEEEPP into the lore! Blink and you'll miss it. She also has an impressive cast of characters. There are many mysteries in her stories that I am itching to have the answers to. I need to see/know!!!

@abbysimsfun OMG I absolutely love her style of writing, which became a recent influence over my own. She's also a fellow fan and user of Chekhov's guns (I know the name of that literary device now because of her hehehe. No, no actual guns here!). I am captivated by the storytelling!

@dreamyyesenia is so incredibly sweet! She also takes her sims' personalities and interests very seriously and creates the perfect homes/wardrobes for them. She's a master at it and I'm taking notes.

@authorspirit: Her builds are absolutely fantastic. Joy is a smart cookie and she does everything with precision. I really like the chic and regal aesthetic in her posts too. Quite demure

@sharona-sims is my slice-of-life queen!!!! She seems apologetic for the "slow pace" of her gameplay, but I don't mind it one bit. I could keep up with Lily and Michael for the rest of my life, idc, I love them.

@teadreamsims is immensely creative and a great storyteller. I always forget they play on console. That just shows how important imagination is. The gameplay with Fern and the rotational gameplay with the townies happened ages ago but they live in my head rentfree.

@aurorangen: Details details details!!!!! I eat it all up and Rory always gives us extra insight and behind-the-scenes stuff. She's talented in both writing and telling her stories through pictures. And her builds are insane.

@cakepoppresent: Nahhhhh cuz the drama and the wholesomeness, omg. I like how we explore different groups of characters at a time and it never seems like too much. And her videos are everything.

@miralure is on hiatus sadly :( But she definitely left her mark, I never forget her. When I came back to Simblr, I had no idea a lot of people saw commenting as an "embarrassing" thing? She was very welcoming and her mindset is the one I've been following ever since. Because of her, I'm often all up in your guys's comments like nothing lmao. Anyway, her lookbooks were perfection as well as her male sims. Amazing.

@windslar also seems to be on hiatus :( I admire the way she composes her dialogue posts through photos and I've been trying to do it as well as she does. The facial expressions, the angles, etc! It's cinematic.

@cinamun: I don't even have to explain, but I will anyway. The drama, the real-life-issues, the gifs, the heartfelt moments, the plot twists, the in-depth characters, the lore, the background, the wardrobes. Phenomenal work!

[power-rings]

Light Consorting with Shadows (Collab)

Chapter 10: A New Plan

Collab with @e-vay!

Everything happened so quickly, that Sonic hardly had time to fit into his armor. His ears pricked in alarm when he heard a startling scream outside. With his speed, he was out of the palace. Sonic had expected to see Doom, and perhaps some soldiers that he assigned, but, to his surprise… he saw these blueish gray creatures emerging in what appeared to be thin air. He saw Lancelot already fighting against three of them near the gate. After spin-dashing one of the creatures into the side of the palace, he searched his surroundings, looking for Amy, and their teenage daughter. Hoping perhaps they were inside the palace… Would the palace even be safe anymore? He was attacked by three smaller creatures, before Percival defended the King. Sonic quietly nodded, grateful for her speedy save. One by one, he and Percival kept knocking the intruders down, the pair finally catching a break when reuniting with Lancelot. Under the dark hedgehog’s helmet, their gazes met. Whatever was spoken between them earlier that morning, was put aside. They had more concerning matters at hand. “I think Amy and Rory are still inside the castle. Help them get to the bunkers with the others.” Without another word, his best knight obeyed and in haste made his way to the castle.

The evasion seemed to have come to a stand still, and all of the knights gathered around the King. “Make sure that the bunkers are heavily guarded. Gawain? Check to make sure no one is still in their homes. Percival? I want you to take your spot at the north tower.” Sonic had a feeling that this wasn’t gonna be the last time they’ll see these alien-like beings. His eyes darted in the direction of his family exiting the castle. The royal family made their way out of the gate, and made haste to their safe haven. Sonic stopped at the entrance to their temporary underground home. As Sonic, and the queen spoke quietly, the king kept an eye on Lancelot and Aurora near the entrance of the stone perimeter around them. Amy got his attention, when she squeezed his hand. Worried in her jade eyes, but she trusted her king fully.  Of course, as always, Sonic told her to wait for him. They embraced tightly, as if afraid to let the other one go. 

Aurora lingered with her father…The king reached out his arm to hug his daughter farewell, but the princess remained still with her lips pursed.

“You need to get to safety with your mother.”

“But I can help!” she pleaded, clasping her hands. 

“No,” Sonic stated simply. “War is no place for a princess.”

Tears welled up in the pink hedgehog’s eyes. “Then what is my place? My purpose? Isn’t it to serve the people–the land I love? How can I be expected to watch you and everyone in our kingdom risk your lives while I sit idly by?”

Sonic attempted to look away, an attempt to hide his emotions just as his armor shielded his body, but his daughter reached up and held his face in his hands. She turned him back to look her in the eye.

“I can fight,” she urged. “Lancelot has been training me for this. Please, let me fight with you and the other knights. Let me protect our kingdom. I can do this.”

The king grimaced at the mention of Lancelot’s name on his daughter’s lips, but there was truth to her words. Aurora had been training with the best of his knights, which would make her plenty capable in battle. Still, Sonic wouldn’t allow himself to sacrifice his daughter so easily. He would only allow Aurora to fight if it were the very last resort.

He placed his hands firmly on Aurora’s shoulders. Brows furrowed, he gave her a weak smile. There was a sense of sadness behind his emerald eyes and for a moment she was no longer speaking with ‘a king,’ but with her father. “I know you’re strong enough… And that’s why I need you to go with your mother. Keep her safe. For me?”

It wasn’t what she had asked for, but it was a step in the right direction. Soon enough, she’d be able to prove herself.

“I will,” Aurora nodded weakly. She quickly hugged her father and gave him a kiss on the cheek before turning on her heel and sprinting off to the safe haven.

As he watched Aurora join her mother, and slowly leave his sight. He started to truly realize something. His daughter was no longer his baby girl, anymore. As any parent, it pained him to realize this. However, Sonic couldn’t be more proud of her for standing her ground for their kingdom. 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t dwell on his pride for his now young-adult daughter. More creatures were coming from all around them, not hesitating a moment to attack. Flying creatures even hovered above them, occasionally attacking them when one was distracted with their “siblings” that fought on the ground. 

It felt like hundreds of these alien’s kept coming from out of nowhere, while they held a handful from the perimeter surrounding the bunker where the townspeople were huddled together in safety, more and more climbed the stone walls and attacked the archers, and the knights that were ordered to help were on their tail and tossed over like a rag, not standing a chance.

Everything froze. All the creatures suddenly dropped.

Doom had made his arrival. Both Sonic and Lancelot could feel him; and the chaos energy that surged through him. 

“How disappointing, my son.” Doom spat at the ground, and slowly approached the two hedgehogs. His eyes narrowed coldly from the King to Lancelot.  “Together we could have ruled this land, instead, you choose to die to defend his throne?” His crimson eyes darted toward Sonic.

Lancelot scowled, “indeed.” Rage was still fresh towards his estranged father, after the event that took place only days ago. 

Doom scoffed, “so be it. If my army doesn’t destroy you… “ He grabbed Lancelot by the collar, “I will destroy you. After I kill your King.” Before Lancelot could attack him, he was gone. A dark cloud taking his place near his opponents.

Lancelot glanced back at the royal highness, Sonic’s emerald gaze scanned their surroundings. “We need to get those Chaos Emeralds back, Lancelot.” The king never looked at him, staying focused on the view of his palace standing on the hill. Perhaps, Doom would be waiting for them there. Doom’s mission was crystal clear. Now that Doom was out of sight, slowly his army became alive. Perhaps he had paralyzed them like he had done to Sonic, and the others the other day? Before Lancelot could even turn around to withdraw his sword, and decapitate his opponent, Sonic grabbed the Knight by the arm, and was pulled away from the battle. “I have an idea.” 

Five lanky creatures discovered them just a few feet away, Lancelot and Sonic quickly took care of them, soon they all lay lifeless at their feet.

Lancelot took this chance to remove his helmet, and wipe his sweaty brow. “What’s your idea, sire?” Although he trusted Sonic with his life, he was always known for not making plans, or at least taking them seriously. All of a sudden, the king swung a fist. Lancelot was taken off guard, stumbling back. 

It wasn’t rare that the two hedgehogs would spar from time to time, but in the heat of a battle? “C’mon, hit me.” Perhaps, the king was starting to lose his mind. When the knight didn’t hit him, Sonic attacked him again. “You don’t usually hesitate like this, Sir Lancelot.” Sonic laughed, and dodged Lancelot aiming for him. 

“This fight is not with you, my King-”

“... But if we could use our wits to fool him.” Sonic stopped the brawl between them, his hands on the knight’s shoulders. “We can get the Chaos Emeralds back.”

Lancelot blinked at him, “we could win this.” Sonic grinned from ear to ear, and then looked over the knight’s shoulders back at the battle. They both mutually agreed to help the other knights fend off a large number of aliens, before they would carry out their plan.

 Several feet away, it seemed like a larger number were attacking the stone perimeter that protected the sanctuary underground. Sir Percival, Gawain, and several other armored guards were attacking their opponents from all around them, swords piercing the chests of these aliens, or arrows aimed at their heads before they could even climb all the way to the top of the perimeter. Meanwhile, some of these creatures were near the entrance that was quite hidden from the naked eye. Guards that held their place on the top of the tower soon jumped down to block their attempt of a break-in.

When Lancelot, and the King felt like they would never be able to head back to the palace - when a bulky alien creature suddenly started to charge toward them, Lancelot took this chance, and muttered an apology to his king, as he although very hesitant, hitting him below the armor just inches from his groin. Sonic had been hurt several times before in his past life, especially any friendly compact with his faithful knight. He was almost numb to the pain, but had to admit it hurt like hell when Lancelot’s fist made contact. Lancelot whispered something into Sonic’s ear, and he immediately played along and fell to his knees. While Lancelot, lifted a hand toward the Alien. “Halt. Take me to your master. ” To his surprise, the creature actually froze in place. It grunted, and then glared at the “injured” King, before stomping ahead, leading them in the direction of the palace; perhaps they had assumed right that Doom was waiting for them in the throne room. 

What a coward, Lancelot thought. He worried slightly that this plan wouldn’t even work. What was the next step if they had tricked Doom? How would he win the Chaos Emeralds back? He had a feeling that he would have to do the planning from there.

Instead of familiar, and friendly faces at the gate… stood two more aliens that were much taller than the alien that led them in this direction. Much easier to knock out, quite frankly. Lancelot noted. But, he resisted; they didn’t need to draw unnecessary attention.  

Soon, the gates opened, and they stepped inside. More of Doom’s army were scattered here and there, snarling, and some of the smaller creatures even snapped at Sonic’s feet. Which, he just kicked off. From behind, the bulky alien shoved at Sonic, and snarled a warning. 

When they finally reached the stone steps leading into the palace, the king started trying to get out of Lancelot’s grasp. Almost catching the knight off guard. They had to keep the act going. Sonic proceeded to fight against his grasp as they approached the throne room. As expected, Doom was sitting in Sonic’s seat. 

Sonic, remember to burn that chair after we win this. The king noted, disgusted that Doom’s rear-end was in his chair.

One of the alien-soldiers approached Doom, and kneeled. If he spoke to Doom, neither of them heard it, or could understand it. Lancelot proceeded with the plan, and hurled the King towards his estranged father. 

Sonic grunted as if the fall knocked the wind out of him. The alien quickly jerked aside, and allowed Doom to step down towards the King. His brow rising in disbelief. “Finally, did you come to your senses?” Doom leaned down to take off Sonic’s helmet, and tossed it aside. Sonic proceeded to play defeated, and weak.

Lancelot panicked slightly, and stepped forward. “Wait, Father…” The knight almost puked when he even used that word to describe such an evil being. “Mustn’t you end him this quickly?” He trailed off in thought, trying to find the words without giving them away, and costing both of their lives. “Shall we let him suffer by seeing his kingdom fall, before you end his life?” 

Doom hesitated, quite intrigued with his son’s plan. 

“Together. You and I. Like you wanted.” Lancelot could have sworn that Doom’s eyes beamed in excitement. If he could hold such an emotion. 

Doom cackled loudly, his laughter echoing throughout the palace. “Brilliant.” The dark hedgehog turned to one of his soldiers, “take him to the cell.” Doom also advised them to heavily guard the cell Sonic would be in. 

“I’ll take him.” Lancelot offered. He honestly wasn’t sure whether Sonic would actually be killed on the way to the cell. He couldn’t have that. Thankfully, Doom didn’t question his son. The soldiers lingered back, while Lancelot picked Sonic up and “dragged” him towards the prison. It has honestly been awhile since Lancelot actually walked down these stairs, Sonic hardly liked to lock anyone up. Unless, they had been guilty of murder. When they reached an empty, and dusty cell, they both waited to make sure they hadn’t been followed.

Sonic was grinning from ear to ear. “Way to go. Boy, you even had me fooled for a moment there.” 

Lancelot hushed him. “I’m not sure about this, sire. What’s next?”

The king shrugged, “I didn’t think we would get this far, Lancelot.” Sonic lowered his voice, “don’t look at me like that,” Sonic’s voice got high-pitched under Lancelot’s gaze, “… I did bring this.” Hidden in his quills was a familiar Chaos Emerald, although it lacked its appeal like the real one. They could use it to their advantage. Or at least… Sonic could easily escape when he needed to. Perhaps, he could even use this one to find the Chaos Emerald that Doom had taken.

Lancelot shook his head. “Let’s pray to the gods it’ll work. I’ll figure out how to coax the Chaos Emeralds out of his grasp.” Sonic beamed, and gave him a thumbs up. “Now, get in your cell.” The knight encouraged, slightly too amused with the situation than he actually should be. Lancelot watched the King hesitate, but Sonic trusted him. He wouldn’t be here too long. Lancelot was worried though. What if Sonic was caught with the fake Chaos emerald? What if fooling Doom won’t be as easy as they had hoped. They got this far… so, they couldn’t back away now.

The knight felt Doom’s eyes on him, as he returned upstairs. He expected the older hedgehog to speak, but he was silent. “Ahem. What happens now?” Lancelot searched their surroundings. Taking notice of the damage inside the palace. If they win this, they have a lot of work to do. The knight cursed himself for not getting rid of Doom quicker. He also hated that he was away from Aurora, and the rest of the citizens that were safe in their fort. Or, at least for the time being. How long would it take before they break through? Doom’s soldiers were persistent. Too many lives were at risk. Lancelot felt like he shouldn’t linger much longer, but what of Sonic? Their plan? 

--

Previous

Next: Coming Soon

[ofmdrecaps]

09/10-17/2024 Daily OFMD Recap Pt 2

TLDR; Taika Waititi; Ruibo Qian; Madeleine Sami; Samba Schutte; Leslie Jones; Rachel House; Minnie Driver; Rory Kinnear;

Part 1 / Part 3

== Taika Waititi ==

New shots of Taika and his fancy drinks keep popping up over on instagram!

Source: Taika Drink Instagram

The main hot news from Taika was all the fun he had at the 76th Annual Emmy Awards (for Reservation Dogs!)

Source: Indigenous.tv Instagram / Post 2

Source: Pope of the Bowery Instagram

And some not so amazing news... but if you hadn't heard already, Taika's new project, Time Bandits has been cancelled by Apple TV. What's worse is they did on Kal-El Tuck (Kevin in Time Bandit)'s birthday Sept 17th. Jerks. I dont know of any petition or campaign to renew efforts-- but if you do please let me know, I'd love to share!

Source: Deadline

== Ruibo Qian ==

Our brilliant Pirate Queen is still visiting China, and she is BRINGING the cat content, I love it.

Source: Ruibo's Instagram

== Madeleine Sami ==

Our darling Archie has so much going on! Deadloch S2 is being filmed in Darwin, and the gals are having a great time!

Not to mention more Double Parked Episodes!

Source: PrimeVideoAuNZ Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba's new movie, Advanced Chemistry is making it's way around the country! Alec Moore, writer, producer of the movie is spreading the word-- wanna see if there are showings available near you? Check out their website!

Source: Alec Moore's Instagram

Did anyone get to go see Advanced Chemistry in LA?

How was the Q & A ?

Source: Samba's Instagram

Oh and GUESS WHO'S BACK with more Crew For Life Merch and Cooking classes! Wanna get in on them? ShopStands!

Source: Samba's Instagram

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie's is back out giving the LA Sparks some love!

Source: Leslie Jones Instagram

== Rachel House ==

The Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) ended on the 15th, but we're still getting some cute shots of her, friends, and the cast of her new directorial movie Te Maunga (The Mountain)! Our Mary Reed really shined at the Festival!

Source: Rachel House's Instagram

== Minnie Driver ==

With everything going on with Mary, how could we forget our beloved Anne Bonny? Minnie's out here looking cute.

AND she and Rory Kinnear (The Badminton Twins) are going to be in the performance of White Rabbit Red Rabbit in Soho Place London in November! Thank you so much to our friends over at @adoptourcrew for keeping us appraised! Want to learn more? Visit White Rabbit Red Rabbit.

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

Continued in Part 3!

[screamintoad]

Morning Routines

A/N: I’m writhing in pain in bed but take this. It’s really just Rory being socially awkward.

Rose belongs to @blood-red-bumblebee

Carla belongs to @the-rini-rush

  The cafeteria was as loud as usual yet one table was unnervingly quiet. Deuce nervously picked at his food before groaning and directing his attention to his friend, whom was busy glaring at one of their upperclassmen from across the room. “Rory, you’re doing that thing again.” Without looking away he asked, “What thing?” Ace replied, “For someone who hates eye contact, you’re terrible at remembering to blink.” Rory’s eyes stung as he blinked. “I don’t know how they do it.” He spoke up. Ace and Deuce looked around but couldn’t figure out who he was talking about. Jack, who was sitting across from them at the table, kicked their legs. “Now you’re both staring.” He pointed out, “No we’re not!” The duo answered in unison.

  Rory focused back on his food, “How do people like Zagarius and Vil get up every morning and look gorgeous for the day?” He wondered.  “If you’re so curious then go ask one of them.” Ace said with a mouth full of food. Rory picked up Grim from his lap and plopped him onto Rose’s. She was trying to eat her food in peace but happily snuggled close to Grim. He wordlessly stood up and began making his way towards the tall hound beastman across the room. 

  The others at the table looked at each other in a panic. 

  “I was kidding!” 

  “Where are you going?”

  “He’s going to get in so much trouble.”

  Ignoring the others, Rory pushed past rambunctious students until he stood right in front of NRC’s infamous Zagarius Hekkate. Despite them both wearing a variation of platforms and heels, Zagarius still towered over him. Rory also now realized he didn’t plan out what to say to him. 

  The beastman quirked a brow, “Do you need something?” He asked. His tone seemed neutral enough. Rory averted his gaze and instead looked at the floor. Not out of nerves but, habit. “Uhm…” something. Something. Some- “How long does it take for you to get ready every morning?” “Pardon?” 

  A pause. 

  Until finally Rory cringed at his own wording, “I’m so sorry. That sounds so weird, I’m going now.” He turned to leave when Zagarius finally spoke up, “Was it my makeup or my hair that piqued your interest?” Rory froze, “What-“ 

  A new face bounded over, “Zagger is a pretty puppy with a soft spot for his juniors.” Rory looked at the person who seemed to enter their conversation herself. He recognized her as a Pomefiore student alongside Blanche. Zagarius sighed as he greeted him, “Hello Carla, can I help YOU?” Carla covered his laugh, “Nope, but I overheard his question.” Rory internally facepalmed. Zagarius turned back towards Rory, “An hour. Between makeup, hair, and getting my belongings sorted out.” Rory nodded along, “Thanks. I uh…don’t understand how students like you and Vil can look so nice so early.” 

  A smirk graced the taller man’s face, “It’s only natural as a servant of the Shroud family to look their best.” His ears perked, “I would get going now.” “Why?” “For the bell is about to toll.” A moment passed and sure enough, the bell rang. Everyone began rushing around yet a voice broke through the crowd, “Come on Rory we’re gonna be late!” 

  “Coming, Rose!” He called back but when he turned to say bye to Zagarius, he was gone. Carla laughed as she walked off, “He likes disappearing with the wind.” Rory’s head tilted with confusion but ran ahead to his friends.

[gurugirl]

The Queen's Secret Ch. 16*

Previous Chapter Summary (as a refresher): Getting Harry onto the property without being noticed was risky, and not everything goes exactly to plan but the reunited pair make the most of their time together.

Summary: Harry & Y/n are in bliss together at last but only a week into their reunion the King makes a surprise visit.

A/n: Thank you for being patient with me! I do apologize for how long this one took me to write but I hope you enjoy this part. 6.5k words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, mentions of cheating

The Queen's Secret Masterlist

Rory told the King’s Advisor that the Queen was feeling slightly under the weather. She didn’t want him to call the doctor or anything, but just enough of an excuse to explain why Y/n wasn’t coming down to eat with everyone and why she wasn’t going into the garden to paint or read or lie in the grass like he’d gotten used to her doing.

Rory brought the food up to her and Harry rather than having anyone else on staff do it. It would only work for so long, the cover. But it was good enough for the first few days.

Harry’s appetite had completely returned. Not just for food, but for sex. And the Queen was not going to complain. They were free to love, touch, and talk to their heart's content. Their sweet little bubble was bliss and happiness. The Queen didn’t need to leave the confounds of her room when she had her Prince with her. She didn’t want to.

And Harry was out of his mind with delight. They both felt like it was a beautiful dream. This was how life was meant to be. Sweet. Exciting. Fulfilling.

But after three days the Queen knew she needed to start showing her face again. She needed to go back to doing normal things or else the advisor would start to ask questions. And the following week she would have another appointment with a doctor that Edgar selected, followed up with a massage from a therapist on the royal staff. Harry would need to hide elsewhere. So they had some things to talk about. They needed to make realistic plans. They couldn’t just hide in their sweet bubble for all eternity, as wonderful as that sounded.

“This afternoon I’ll be joining the house for dinner. I think it’s best I start getting back to my normal routine,” Y/n spoke as she kissed Harry’s back. He was lying on his stomach nude while the Queen did her morning stretches on the bed next to him. She kneed up to him and hugged his body to her as she let her lips cover the expanse of his back.

Harry put a hand behind himself to grab at her hip and he groaned in protest, “Want you here with me, though. I can’t bear to be away from you my Queen…” Harry teased as he twisted himself around to look at Y/n.

She smiled at him and pushed her fingers into his hair as he rolled to his back so he could see her better.

“Aww… you poor thing. It’ll only be for an hour today. Then tomorrow I need to also go into the garden for a while to do some reading. If I stay cooped up in here with you everyone will begin to wonder what’s going on with me,” she reached to push at his pouting lip and laughed.

Harry stuck his lip out in exaggerated sadness, “Baby… I need you all the time. What will I do without you for an hour?” Harry pulled her down to his chest and sighed.

Harry was mostly joking. He knew this needed to happen. The Queen was right. But he really would have preferred to never leave her presence.

“Well you can read, or take a nap… or sit in the sauna in the bathroom,” Y/n said as she caressed Harry’s cheek with the back of her hand.

Harry turned his face and kissed her palm, “So today already? You can’t wait one more day?”

The Queen pushed herself up closer to Harry so she could kiss his cheek as she shook her head, “Today’s the day, my love.”

And it was the day. Things needed to remain as normal as possible. The Queen wanted to keep Harry around for as long as she could. She knew it couldn’t last forever. This was temporary. The Queen would only be pregnant for so much longer. But for now, this would last as long as she could make it. She would keep him safe and then figure out a way to be with him for good. She couldn’t imagine it any longer to be away from him.

“Harry?” She asked, keeping herself draped over him.

Harry raised his brows, “Mhmm?”

“What do you want after I have her? Do you have a plan? For us?” They had lightly discussed the idea of running off together. But not the details, nor the fallout that would ensue. Harry might not ever see his other children again. Or at least until they were old enough to seek him out themselves later on. Would he be willing to risk that?

Harry sighed and kept his palm on Y/n’s low back, “I don’t have a plan. But I want to be with you. My current arrangement would kill me. I’m only allowed to see the kids once a month. With Gertrude present. For only a few hours. That’s all I get. She said she might allow more one day but…” Harry closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he considered his words, “I don’t know, my love. I can’t bear to never see them again. But I couldn’t bear to never see you… or her,” he said as he moved his hand toward the side of the Queen’s belly.

 Y/n kept her fingers in his shaggy hair and ran her thumb over his forehead, “Would you want to make a plan? With me?”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at the Queen. He felt so lucky that she wanted him. That she’d finally decided she needed him as much as he needed her. But there was the matter of his other children. It wasn’t an easy choice.

Just as Harry was about to speak Y/n gasped with a big grin and sat up, taking Harry’s palm and placing it at the bottom of her bump, “Feel! She’s moving about!”

Their little growing bean was becoming bigger and stronger. Her foot was kicking and Harry could feel the small movements.

Harry smiled and laughed, “Wow! A dancer!”

When Y/n returned to her room after dinner she was determined to talk to him about coming up with a plan. Figuring out what they could do to stay together. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she’d give it all up for him. Harry was undoubtedly the love of her life. And she was carrying his child and knew she could give him more children.

Sitting down together near the window she began to speak, not knowing where the conversation would go but just feeling that it all needed to be said.

“I want to be with you. Me, you, the baby. More babies even down the road. But I don’t want this life anymore. I want to walk away from the kingdom and everything. I know you're hesitant about not seeing your children with Gertr-“

Harry dragged her into his arms and kissed her mouth. He knew it would be hard and he hadn’t thought of how to make it work but it was all he wanted. He wanted to be with her despite any consequences. He’d find a way to see his kids if he had to but having Y/n as his without the secrecy and sneaking was a dream come true.

She clutched his shirt as he brushed his tongue over her lips and her tongue and he put a hand on her belly, the other going to the back of her neck.

“I want you,” he spoke in panted words between kisses, “with my whole being,” he pulled her into his lap, making her straddle his thighs, “We’ll find a way, my love.”

Y/n knew they could. Her family would be disappointed. She’d been training for the possibility her whole life and now that she was Queen her family was royalty by proxy. They were already well-to-do and had many contacts in high places but having a daughter married to the King had them set for life. Had generations set for life. But she’d give it all away for Harry. And her family would still love her in the end. It wouldn’t be easy but she only wanted him.

When Harry slowed his kisses and his dick was hard under her thigh she moved back and looked at him, “I’m serious. I meant for this to be a real conversation. To get the ball rolling. We only have so much time, Harry.”

He rubbed his palms over her back and bumped his nose to hers, “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just hearing you say that you want all that with me, more babies?” He moved his face back to look at her and take her face in, her lips, the curve of her nose and her eyebrows, the wispy hairs at her forehead, her pretty eyes that he’d been dreaming of for a long time now looking back at him, “I want you. We’ll make this work no matter what. And I know we need to think about how we are gonna make that happen but I don’t know if there’s any great solution other than to just leave together after you have the baby. Me and you. We’ll just walk out hand in hand and drive off to another place until everyone gets used to the idea that it’s us. No matter what we do, if we have a flawless plan or not, this won’t be easy and there will be a lot of neigh-sayers.”

She knew he was right. No matter how perfectly they planned it all out, it would never be a perfect scenario.

“Just walk out hand-in-hand? You’re crazy you know that? Can you imagine? Me carrying the baby and you with your arms full of baby stuff as we just traipse out of here together and get into a car and drive off into the sunset,” she giggled. That certainly sounded nice. It probably wouldn’t go down like that but what could anyone do? It’s not like they could stop either of them. These weren’t the old days when the Queen could be hung for her insolence. The fallout would be political and personal but they wouldn’t be able to be stopped.

“I’m crazy for you. Let me make love to you. I haven’t had enough of you yet, my Queen. My angel,” he spoke before pressing his mouth over hers once again.

So, there was no real plan in place but the Queen knew it could work, knew it could be done however they wanted to make it happen. No one could stop them and that was the prevailing thought. Even the most perfect plan would still never be a perfect plan.

It had been three blissful days since Harry’s arrival and she could barely keep her hands to herself so she let him make love to her. This time they didn’t even move from the couch by the window. Harry pulled his pants down and the Queen lifted her dress and they moved together slowly with lips attached and gasps of I love you and I need you were whispered into the air.

There was nothing like being fucked by her Prince. They allowed themselves hours to fuck. Long strokes and pauses to stare into each other’s eyes. Harry would come inside of her and then he’d fuck her again when he was hard. He’d finger her and eat her out and she’d lay with her head on his lap and lick his cock, savoring the taste of him, of her on him. It was true bliss. The one she dreamed of now in her arms, in her bed. The father of her baby making love to her slowly and sensually until they fell asleep together, wiped out from sex, from emotion, from happiness.

A bath was in order the following morning. They were messy and smelly after their long session the night before. But it was a quick one as they woke up late because they’d gone to bed sometime in the early morning hours and Y/n’s body needed a little more sleep these days. But despite the bath being quick it was sweet with Harry helping her clean herself and his lips kissing her belly and her arms. Her hormones made her exceptionally horny but the happiness she felt with Harry near her was doing things to her libido as well. Things she’d never expected. She couldn’t get him off her mind. At breakfast and then after in the garden she had a hard time reading her book. She could only think of her strong man back in her room with his green eyes that gazed into her soul and his scruffy unshaven face, his hair a little shaggy, growing longer as he hadn’t had a cut. And even with the bit of hair on his face his dimples still showed when he smiled at her.

“Y/n, you’re feeling better today! It’s nice to see you out in the garden again,” Rory winked and sat down next to her.

Closing her book she sighed and leaned back onto her palms in the grass as she looked up at the blue sky, “I’m feeling fabulous today. But I am getting a little tired. Perhaps I’ll go back in soon,” she looked back at her friend with a knowing grin.

It was nice to have Rory on her side. Her best friend and someone she trusted completely.

“Tomorrow is my day off. Do you need me to stay around here? I know it’ll be a little tricky without my help,” Rory whispered. It was true. Without Rory around getting food to Harry would be a little more difficult but her friend deserved her days off like normal. Especially with how much she had helped them.

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. You’ve been more than generous with all of your help.”

It had been a whole week. The Queen's doctor's appointment and massage were scheduled so Harry knew he’d be hidden in the linen closet for quite some time that day.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” he kissed her forehead as Rory stood by the door ready to lead Harry to his hiding spot until the coast was clear. The appointments would take place in her room as all of them had before. Plus It was more private.

“I know. I just feel bad that we need to do this,” she spoke as she rubbed her knuckles along his scruffy jaw.

Harry put his hands over hers and kissed her lips, “Worth it.”

Her morning was busy. A quick breakfast and then ushering Harry off into hiding before meeting with her doctor for a check-up followed up by a much-needed massage.

But before her massage was even finished the Queen heard a familiar voice that had her sitting up and with her hand held out to the masseuse, “Hold on…”

She listened closely and heard his voice in the hallway coming closer. Grasping the sheet close to her body she held her breath as the door opened and there he was. Edgar. The King of Manon. Her husband. Whom she hadn’t seen in nearly two months.

“My wife! There she is!” Edgar spoke loudly as he drew closer with Rory and another woman following behind closely.

Y/N dropped her mouth open, not quite sure how to respond. He hadn’t given her any heads up that he was coming. He hadn’t told anyone.

“What are you doing here? I hadn’t expected you,” Y/N spoke as Edgar gave her a friendly side hug before patting her sheet-covered bump.

“I wanted to come and see how things were going. Figured a night away from Manon would be nice. It’s so beautiful out here. And… oh! This is Lulu, my new assistant,” the King waved toward the woman who was standing to his left.

Y/n smiled at the girl who was near her own age, but far less pregnant, or rather, not pregnant at all, “Nice to meet you, Lulu.”

Looking toward Rory, Y/n realized there was something Rory wanted to say. She’d ask her later.

“Oh! Nice to meet you, Queen!”

A nice girl.

Y/n looked at Edgar once again and nodded toward the door, “Do you mind? I’d like to put on some clothes and then we can take tea in the sunroom.”

The Queen got herself dressed as Rory helped her with her buttons, “Lulu seems like a little more than an assistant. I mean, I can’t be sure but I’ve got a pretty good read on people, Y/n.”

Y/n remained silent as she listened. It wouldn’t surprise her if Edgar did decide to take a mistress. It was unusual in the modern kingdom, and if exposed would be a scandal, but it’s not like she could complain. And she wouldn’t anyway. Besides, she was sure the King knew about how she felt about Harry – he was looking the other way so as to keep up appearances with the kingdom and he knew she would as well.

Rory was sent to let Harry know of the situation at the Queen’s request after walking her to the sunroom.

Tea was served shortly after the Queen sat down on the chaise across from the King and Lulu.

“So you’re our new assistant?” Y/n broke the silence in the room as she eyed the pretty girl.

“Yes! Well, Edgar’s assistant,” Lulu turned her head to look at Edgar, “I didn’t know… Am I also to be her assistant as well?”

Edgar chuckled and patted her knee, “Yes, dear. Once she has the baby you’ll be answering to us both. But for now, you’re of more use to me. She’s got Rory at her aid now.”

Y/n nodded at his response. She wasn’t dumb. The girl was looking at Edgar like he was her whole world. The Queen had never even looked at him that way.

It was a relief that Y/n wasn’t asked too many questions. Edgar was clearly distracted by his new plaything. And even though there was not an ounce of jealousy in her bones, the obvious insult was not overlooked. It was likely this was a show on purpose. To see how far he could push it. Edgar was upset about the whole thing, Y/n realized. And he liked having the upper hand. This was his way of subtly showing to the Queen that he was still in charge. That he could do what he wanted if her heart was no longer his. Her heart had never really belonged to the King to begin with.

“Will you be sleeping with me this evening? I can have Rory bring in extra pillows…”

“No. That’s not necessary. I’ll sleep down here in the large suite that overlooks the garden. You need all the space you can get right now,” Edgar gestured to her belly and then looked over at Lulu who appeared to be needing some kind of reassurance.

Y/n pulled her lips into her mouth. So he brought his mistress to the estate and had planned on them sleeping together in the same house as his wife. She was insulted. But she would keep quiet and Edgar knew she would. Her immediate concern was Harry. Having the King here at the same time as Harry was very risky, though luckily Edgar was rather preoccupied with Lulu.

“Splendid. I’ll have a room set for Lulu then. The nice one that looks out the front toward the orchard. No one is staying in that wing.” Y/n was being cheeky. She wanted to see the look on Lulu’s face. She was aware of what was going on but would play dumb if that was what Edgar wanted.

The Queen wasn’t actually concerned about where Lulu stayed. She could go and stay with the King and they could fuck and make a racket for all she cared. She only wanted to get a rise from the girl. See what her response would be to staying in the lonely wing away from Edgar.

“Oh! But, I’m Edgar’s assistant. I should be staying close by. You know… just in case-” she stopped speaking when the king put his hand at her knee to indicate as much.

“What on earth would he need you for while he’s sleeping? I’m sure you don’t need to be on call all night, my dear. Besides, there isn’t another room nearby Edgar’s that’s unoccupied.”

Lulu looked at the King as she worried her lip between her teeth. Y/n was ready to burst out in laughter.

Edgar gave Y/n a sharp look and then spoke, “Lulu will love any room she’s set up in.”

The Queen nodded and smiled and looked down over her belly as she changed the subject, “The doctor has said I’m very healthy. The baby is as well. Everything is going very smoothly. I’m thankful for my health.”

“Good to hear. You look very well. This place seems to have been very good for you. You’re simply glowing.”

Y/n smiled, knowing she was extra relaxed and content lately. But that was mostly due to having Harry with her and the many many orgasms she’d been given since his arrival. Perhaps that was the glow he was talking about.

Rory entered the room and leaned over Y/n speaking quietly, “Harry is back in your room. We’ll have dinner ready in an hour. I’ll bring a tray up to him but if you want to go now to get yourself ready…”

The Queen stood up and looked at the King and Lulu, “Well, I must go and get ready for dinner. I was in the middle of my massage when you two arrived and I haven’t had a chance to freshen up. I’ll see you in an hour. If you’ll excuse me.”

Harry was seated by the window when the Queen entered her room.

“I heard he’s here.”

Y/n nodded and crossed the room to her handsome man, “Yes. With a young woman in tow.”

Harry stood up and pulled her into his arms, “A young woman?”

“Yes. Her name is Lulu. He’ll be preoccupied with her so don’t worry too much. But right now I need a bath.”

Harry drew a bath for her, putting bubbles in the tub, and helping her out of her dress. He took his own clothes off and climbed into the tub behind her.

She leaned into his chest, lying her head back onto his shoulder as they spoke quietly. Hespoke into her ear, his deep slow drawl soothing and sexy all at once.

Harry’s hands roamed over her shoulders and down her arms and around to her belly, “Love that you’re pregnant with my baby and that you’re taking such good care of her. I love you, Y/n.”

She sighed and smiled, placing her hands over Harry’s, “I love it too. Love that this baby is ours.”

Harry kissed her lobe and brushed his hands up over her tits, thumbing at her nipple, and then lowered his mouth to her neck.

She could feel his thick cock behind her, already full, and engorged. Ready for some action. Which seemed to be pretty constant since he’d arrived the week before.

“Harry… we can’t. I need to be downstairs in one piece in twenty minutes.”

He groaned and continued kissing her neck softly. He knew she was right. When they had sex they liked to take their time nowadays. Never wanting to repeat their quick sessions again if they could help it.

Chuckling, Y/n turned her face to capture his lips and lowered her hand behind her back, and began to stroke him slowly, “Wanna come before I go downstairs? I bet I can make you come and I’ll still have time to get dressed and make it to dinner before anyone notices a thing.

“Heeeyy…” Harry protested, “What’s that supposed to mean?” He put his hands at her ribs and poked his fingers in warning.

“It just means you always come so easily for me. Such a good boy, aren’t you?” She was teasing him but she was also pretty sure she could make him come quickly. Turning on her knees and facing him, she sat back onto her haunches and kept stroking him. She brought one of his hands up to her tits to encourage him to play with them.

Harry spread his thighs and leaned back as he used both hands to squeeze and massage at her breasts, “I should be insulted but you feel so good and you’re so fucking hot, Y/n… of course you make me come so easy. M’like a teenager around you,” Harry spoke as he gritted his teeth while Y/n pumped him, the water sloshing around the movement.

Y/n reached behind her and unhooked the tub stop so the water slowly began to drain. She intended on having him come in her mouth. Wanted the pleasure of going down to dinner in front of the King and his mistress, not only carrying Harry’s baby but having his come in her tummy.

Harry gripped the edge of the tub and leaned his head back when he felt himself get close, “Gonna fuck you so good when you get back from dinner,” Harry was panting his words as precome began to pool over his tip.

“I can’t wait,” Y/n grinned at him and then lowered her free hand to his scrotum like she knew he liked and gently massaged.

Harry’s deep moan came out a little too loud, “Shh… my love. Keep quiet.”

Harry clenched his jaw and licked his lips as he looked at his Queen. The water had drained from the tub and he knew that having her on her knees must hurt so he put his hand over hers, “Here,” he said, standing up and helping her along with him to the bed.

She was thankful that he was so thoughtful. Her knees were fine but she was sure another a few minutes and they’d have been sore and bruised.

Harry lay on the bed and Y/n settled between his legs. But this time, the soft surface under her knees made it easier to bend down and take him into her mouth.

He sucked in a sharp breath as he watched the Queen give him head and keep her eyes on his. She was always so good.

And of course, with his balls being stroked gently and his cock being sucked and swallowed around Harry came down her throat. He threw his arm over his mouth and bit into the skin to keep himself quiet. They’d both gotten pretty good at being very quiet.

Harry jerked his hips up and his cock slid deeper down her throat causing her to gag and pull back a little as she swallowed his salty come down.

Harry quickly put his fingers into her hair and helped lift her off, “Sorry, Y/n. Didn’t mean to do that,” he smiled as she laughed and shook her head.

Dinner was roasted vegetables and seared salmon. The King and Lulu drank red wine and Y/n had sparkling mineral water with lemon. The baby was jumping around at the meal and the drink in her belly to which she placed her hand over the movement and smiled to herself. She was close to saying something to Edgar about it but decided she didn’t want to share the lovely moment with him. These things were only for Harry and her good friend Rory nowadays. The King wouldn’t get the privilege.

“Are you feeling better?” Lulu asked as she happily sipped her wine.

Y/n furrowed her brow in confusion, “What do you mean? I’ve felt just wonderful lately.”

“Oh. You were so bright red and flushed when you got here for dinner. I thought you might have overworked yourself. “

Y/n raised her eyebrows and rubbed over her bump as she nodded. She was flushed when she arrived at dinner because she’d just finished off her lover in her mouth and was turned on quite a lot, “Oh. Yes. Sometimes I struggle to put on my clothes. And I’d just had a warm bath so that could be why. But I’m just fine. Thank you so much for your concern.”

“Tomorrow I was thinking of taking Lulu to the Pasteur with the horses that’s up the road. Have you visited since you’ve been here?”

Shaking her head no she spoke, “Of course not. I’m not allowed to leave the estate. Those were your rules.”

Lulu paused her motion as she was about to take a bite and looked from the Queen to Edgar but kept quiet. Yes, that’s right, Lulu. The King has forbidden his pregnant wife from outside contact. That is the kind of man you’re dealing with. Y/n thought to herself smugly.

The dessert was lemon chiffon pie. A request from the Queen. She’d done it on purpose. She knew Edgar despised it.

Another bottle of wine was served for the King and his mistress while Y/n sipped tea and enjoyed the dessert.

“I hope you do find the accommodations to your liking. I’ve never actually slept in the bed you’ll be in, Edgar, but the view of the garden is lovely. I’m sure Lulu will love the view as well. Undoubtedly you already have plans to show her the room anyway before leaving tomorrow.”

The King stared at Y/n and if looks could kill…

“But, anyway… I’m exhausted. The baby would like some rest and I’ve had a long day,” the Queen spoke as she stood up and looked at Lulu, “It was so lovely to meet you. What a wonderful thing you’re doing taking care of Edgar while I’m away. I’m sure he’s as happy as a clam, he sure seems very pleased.” She shifted her sight to Edgar and dropped her smile before turning to head back to her room.

Opening the door to her prince charming was always such a welcoming sight. The man could do no wrong. No matter what he was doing when she walked in. And this time he was doing pushups with his hair pulled back in one of her silk scrunchies. His shirt was off and he was already beginning to sweat. She wondered if he’d done it on purpose, just for her.

He sat back onto his knees with a grin as she strolled over to him and put her hands down to cup his face, tilting his head to look up at her, “Getting a workout in?”

Harry wrapped his strong arms around the back of her thighs, those dimples she adored cutting into his cheeks, pink lips curving up, “Well what does it look like I’m doing? Haven’t really been working out much lately. In fact, no real workouts since I left Manon. Figured I needed to keep up with you a little. You’ll get tired of me otherwise. M’getting’ soft.”

Snorting a laugh as Harry stood up she shook her head, “You? Soft? And I can’t tell that you haven’t worked out. You’re just naturally fit I guess. Good genes and all,” she raised her brows and put her hands on her tummy.

Harry put his hands over hers, “Yeah. Good genes.”

Y/n slid her hands up his chest, feeling his warm skin and muscled pecs on her way up, “So… you promised me a little something earlier,” she raised a brow.

“Oh did I? Hmm… And what was that?”

Y/n pursed her lips and hummed, “I believe your words were something along the lines of you were going to fuck me so good after I get back from dinner.”

Harry laughed and pushed his mouth to hers in a quick smack before pulling away, “Sounds delicious. Let me just take a quick shower-“

“Oh no you don’t. I want you just like this,” she said bringing her hands back over his slightly damp pecs.

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and walked her backward to the bed as he kept his eyes on hers, “Then take your dress off my Queen. Let me see those big tits.”

His smirk was playful as he pulled his shorts down and started stroking himself. He watched her remove her clothes and his cock plumped up quickly at the sight of his pregnant Queen. When her breasts were freed from her bra he moaned and hastened his hand to pump himself to his tip. She was gorgeous. He’d never grow tired of looking at her, pregnant or not.

She was laid back into the bed gently as Harry moved over her body, his lips on her nipples and her bump and cunt.

“Already soaked, sweet girl,” Harry said running his fingers through her labia.

She nodded quickly, “Yes. Just fuck me, Harry. God, I need your cock or I’m gonna burst.”

Harry chuckled and tilted his head to look down at her, “Well, would hate for the Queen burst. Better give her what she wants.”

Harry laid down on his back and pulled her over him so she could sit and grind herself down on him. She loved hanging onto his pecs as she rode him gently, swaying her hips up and down, rocking her pelvis into his so her clit was being stimulated the whole time.

Harry squeezed her breasts in his hand as she rolled her hips and moaned. It was a delight to have him filling her and touching her. Having him every day for a week was doing wonders for her mental health, and probably her physical health too.

“Fuck, look at you, Y/n. Carrying my baby and riding my cock. You’re mine aren’t you?”

Y/n moaned and bit her lip as she nodded. She had to keep her volume down but Harry always felt so good and the way he talked to her in bed always made her toes curl. She sucked in a sharp breath when he bucked up into her, rocking his hips softly, “Yes. I love you. I’m yours, Harry.”

A small whimper fell from Harry’s mouth as he continued thrusting up into her. She was so wet and gripping his big cock just how he liked. But even with her pussy gripping him like it was, the sound was sloppy as they moved together.

“God I love you. Wanna get you pregnant again right after you have my first baby. Just keep knocking you up, fuck my come into you every night…” his words were strained as he spoke as quietly as possible.

“Yes! God… Fuck, Harry…” She widened her eyes and covered her mouth with one hand, looking at Harry who was chuckling, “shit that was loud.”

“If you want, we can do it like we did yesterday morning when the housekeeper was just in the hallway outside of the room.”

She grinned and lowered her hand from her mouth, “Actually, that sounds fantastic.”

Carefully, she pulled herself up and moved off of Harry, lying on her side as Harry moved in behind to spoon her. He lifted Y/n’s thigh, holding at the soft flesh underneath as he slid his cock back into position. He spoke quietly into her ear as he pushed himself inside of her, “There we go. Gonna fuck you like this, m’love. Make you cream all over my cock again. Ooh, fuck squeezing me so good baby. Just like that…” Harry closed his eyes as he bottomed out and positioned them so he could bring his hand to her mouth to keep her quiet just like they did the day before.

Y/n had been extra needy and she couldn’t wait til evening to have him. So she begged him and promised she’d be quiet even though the housekeeper was cleaning the hallway and the bathroom just feet from where she and Harry were. So he fucked her nice and slow and kept his hand over her mouth so the only noise coming from the room had been the subtle creaking of the bed.

When his palm covered her mouth she moved her own hand down to rub at her clit slowly as Harry plunged into her and pulled out to his tip, rolling his hips just right to get nice and deep.

Harry’s deep voice kept whispering into her ear, “You feel so good. Love how wet you get for me and how you’re so desperate for my cock. Love getting filled up with me don’t you?” His lips brushed against the back of her ear and she was already so far gone and moaning into his hand with abandon. Her noises were muffled as Harry panted and grunted quietly.

Her thighs were soaked. She’d made such a mess of herself once again and the sound of Harry’s cock plunging into her wet pussy was erotic and dirty.

He could feel her fingers brushing against his cock and then his balls as he pushed in further the way her fingers were rubbing at her clit. He knew her hand had to be wet with how everything between them was sticky with her arousal.

“Gonna come on my cock, love? Can feel your pussy clenching around me, your thighs are shaking. Let me feel you, Y/n.”

She was already coming before he finished speaking, her body tensing and her thighs beginning to close but Harry moved his leg between hers to keep her spread apart as he continued fucking into her.

Harry felt his balls tighten with his own orgasm. Her walls were pulsing around him and she was so wet and warm, “I’m gonna fill you up, Y/n. Fffuck, baby…”

Harry jerked his hips, reaching himself as far as his cock could go, and gasped as he moved his hand off the Queen’s mouth and held her thigh so he could use his thighs to continue working himself in and out as her cunt squeezed around him and milked his cock of every last drop of his come.

Moving her hand off her clit she reached around behind her to hold onto his forearm as he slowed his movements and let her leg fall down. Bringing his arm over her moved his hand over her breast and kissed her shoulder, “I love you. Love being with you. Would stay trapped inside this one room for the rest of my life if it meant being with you.”

Y/n laughed and turned her head, moving her body just enough that she could look over her shoulder at him, “Luckily you won’t have to do that. One day soon we’ll be able to be together without having to be trapped in a bedroom. Isn’t it funny that it’s been us in a bedroom alone together since the beginning? Only now we have more time. Can fall asleep next to one another, brush each other’s hair, make love all day long, watch movies, have long conversations… Actually, now that I think about it… being trapped in a room with you is pretty amazing.”

Harry squeezed her hip and pulled her in, lifting his head to kiss her. It was amazing. From the moment he first saw her again a week ago he knew this time would be different. There would be no going back from this. He would do everything he could to make sure that they ended up together.

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[zenkindoflove]

WIP Wednesday Eris Week Edition

It's the last WIP Wednesday before Eris Week 2024, so here is a final snippet from me of my works I have planned. You can check out summaries for the fics I'll be posting on this masterlist post. I considered a snippet from Caress Me Down since that hasn't been featured yet, but it's so short and all porn that I'll leave that unspoiled. So here is another snippet from Carry You Home. This time a scene with Eris, Beron, and his brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, look who has finally graced us with his presence,” Beron announced, eyeing Eris with suspicious scorn from his seat behind the desk. He still wore his armor as well, as pristine as ever. Eris couldn’t spot a nick on it. 

“Did Callum find you?” Beron asked, folding his hands together in front of him.

“No,” Eris replied. “I was with the healers.” He gestured to the red scar that extended from his jaw and down his neck. 

“For someone so eager to take my place, you sure are careless with your life,” Beron leaned back in his chair and tilted his head towards Rory. “Go find the useless one and tell my guard we are leaving in one hour.” 

“Leaving?” Eris questioned as Rory left the tent with an exhausted expression. “The battle just ended. The armies need to rest.” 

“Yes, which is why you will stay behind with them. I have no reason to remain here any longer than necessary,” Beron stared at him with a warning in his eyes. Eris knew he was still humiliated by Tamlin dragging him here. He inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he would at least be able to stay out of his presence for a while. 

Kian had kept his cold, cunning stare glued to him since he walked in, as if he saw something he didn’t trust. 

“What do you want?” Eris barked at him. 

“Which healers did you see?” Kian arched his eyebrow, his arms casually thrown across the backrest.  ‘I didn’t see you in any of the healer tents earlier.” 

Eris kept his face as neutral and unmoving as possible, “I didn’t see our healers. I went to the closest tent I could find.” 

“And which tent was that?” 

“You two can do this somewhere else,” Beron interrupted, standing from his seat. Eris straightened and Kian jumped up to stand as well, as was customary when their father moved to leave a room.

Beron walked around the desk and looked Eris up and down as he stood in front of him. “There is to be a meeting tomorrow with that human queen that Rhysand sent your disfigured brother to find. It appears he has abandoned Tamlin and now serves Night.” 

Eris could hear the dripping disgust in Beron’s voice, and he hardened his expression as he tasted bile in the back of his throat, “Being cunt-struck was always his downfall.” 

That earned him the safety of a small smile from his father. “Attend this meeting and get whatever information you can about this potential alliance. I want to know everything. Especially whatever they mention about the human queens and the state of Spring.” 

A shiver rolled down Eris’ back, but he held his spine straight, “Yes, High Lord.” 

Beron nodded his head and then glided past him, exiting the tent to shout orders at his staff. Eris turned his eyes on Kian who stared after their father’s back. 

“Are you going with him?” Eris asked. 

Kian grimaced, “Yes.” 

“Mother will want to know that all her sons are alive.” 

Kian flashed his eyes his way, a brief hint of acknowledgement revealed in the amber circles. Eris turned and left the tent, needing to find his own so he could change and clean off his armor.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Fore reference, my names and birth order of the brothers.

Eris  Conan (dead) Kian Cael (dead) Rory Callum Lucien

[anthropologyruinseverything]

🚨Mature Content ahead, minors DNI, plz stop reading and move along!🚨

Jey Uso x Mixed female (alternating 1st person pov)

Here we go! I’m so nervous lol - but I am working hard towards my goal of completing several novels I have started. One is about a pirate queen saving her granddaughter, another about a grim reaper who enlists the help of a psychic to find a dangerous spirit that escaped.

Reading fanfiction has always been fun for me, I love reading, writing the wwe so this has been a really fun exercise to get some practice and take a break from the harder/darker plots lines I am writing. This fic here is absolutely a fluffy, smutty and unedited piece that I wrote for fun but I welcome any and all feedback yall have. I figure why not combine something fun with growth?

***A note: this is strictly a fun work of fiction and exercise to help me grow as a writer! I feel very strongly about leaving people to their privacy so and this is very AU/fiction heavy based on a television character, not the actual person. I know he has kids and even has one of them with him sometimes but it just makes me uncomfortable to include anyone actually under the age of 18 and not a character in their own right in the fic. For this reason I just made up a name and age for the kiddo. Thanks for understanding! (Oh, also, I assume most of yall reading this know what Jey looks like so I don’t need to spend a lot of time describing him)

Summary: It’s April (timeline is not perfect forgive me) of 2020 and eighteen year old Aurora “Rori” Begay is the new nanny for Jey Uso. Feelings ‘inappropriate’ for their relationship as employer and client begin to bloom in both of them but they keep it to themselves. When her mom’s abusive boyfriend attacks her one night, Jey comes to her rescue and everything changes.

Idk where this is headed but all I can tell you is there will be smut and an HEA. Mentions of physical abuse and attempted SA but not discussed in great detail. Please take care of yourself, I will include a little warning before something that might be triggering if you wanna skip it.

This is part 1 (first 2 chapters)

Word count: 2.4k

Chapter 1:

Aurora POV

“My Rori’s here!” Jason lunged from his father’s arms into mine as soon as I made it through the door of the unassuming but well kept blue house.

“Hey little dude!” I gladly received the three year old, doing my best to avoid touching Josh too much in doing so. Every time we so much as brushed hands it caused a rolling wave of butterflies and warmth. Not unpleasant but also not an appropriate thing to feel for someone who was technically my boss. And the last thing I needed in my life right now was to lose my job, especially over a stupid crush.

Due to the pandemic ramping up Josh was home from his job that normally demanded a lot of travel. Even though he wasn’t traveling he still had commitments and a job that required several hours of training daily in the gym on top of meetings and zoom calls. He’d explained the plan his company had until they could safely begin touring again, a plan that would see them staying here in Florida for several months to a year.

Long enough for me to save up enough to get out of my own place, even if my mother was demanding a high rent. I was glad I’d fibbed about just how much Josh was paying me weekly or she would have demanded even more.

“Swim! Swim! Wanna go swimming!” I juggled the excited toddler in my arms trying not to drop my day bag.

Coming to the rescue Josh grabbed the green backpack and smiled at me in a way that turned my insides to mush. “We gotta eat first little man.”

“Are you free today?” I hoped I didn’t sound as excited as I felt. At first I’d found it odd he still wanted me there even when he wasn’t going to be busy for the day but quickly started to look forward to spending time with both of them.

“Yeah, my meetings were cancelled. I was thinking I’d join y’all for swimming lessons and whatever else you got planned. If that’s cool with you.”

As if I was going to say no.

I looked at Jason with a grin. “Whaddya think? Want Daddy to hang out with us today?”

“Hang out with daddy AND Rori! Swim!”

“What about you?” It was hard not to read too much into his expression or the way his voice seemed to drop a little. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Oh, of course. He’s trying to be considerate of my feelings as a person and I’m drooling at the way his voice changes when he is speaking to another adult. I swallowed my embarrassment and put on a big grin. “Not at all, it’ll be great to hangout! Now how about some breakfast?”

There wasn’t much Jason loved more than swimming but one thing was for certain.

“PANCAKES!”

—-

Jey POV

It did things to me when she called me “Daddy”, even if it was in this context.

Maybe I could get Joe or Braun to hit me in the head next time we’re wrestling.

Really, really hard.

Well, maybe not Braun, I didn’t want to die after all.

I needed some sense knocked back into me around this girl though. I can’t keep my eyes off her and thought about her way too often. She’s only eighteen and I should not be feeling this way about my sons *nanny.* Watching her as she moved around the kitchen, letting little man help her with making breakfast it brought an excited sense of peace.

My eyes dutifully followed the sway of her curvy bottom as she sidestepped small feet with a laugh. I wanted to wind my hands into that waist length brunette hair while I devoured her pouty lips.

Wanted to see her pretty green eyes tear up with those lips wrapped around my dick.

I wanted a lot of things from Miss Aurora Begay.

Isolating was hard, I hadn’t had a chance to go out or hookup with a chick since New Year’s Eve. Maybe that was my problem. She was close, pretty and had a great laugh.

But the truth was I hadn’t wanted someone so bad in a long time. Jason’s mom had burned me pretty hard when she decided she didn’t want to be invested in his life, or mine.

You travel too much she’d said. Come to find out “you travel too much” really meant I’d rather be fucking other dudes in another country.

More power to her. We’d started out casual but when she fell pregnant I’d stepped up and even offered to marry her and let myself get invested. Not the best way to start but I was willing to give it a shot for him.

“How many?”

“Huh?”

Rori pulled me out of my thoughts with a light tough to my shoulder and a giggle. She smiled down at me. “I asked you how many pancakes would you like? I’m using the protein mix.”

Of course she’d ferreted out the healthiest pancakes for someone with my training regime. She was always doing thoughtful shit like that and I loved it. Loved that she would modify things for me, make me a plate or keep one warm for me in the oven when something ran longer than planned.

It was hard not to let all that spill.

She raised her eyebrows. “Josh?”

*I’m so fucked.*

“Uh, make it four.”

Thirty minutes later and I’m waiting for them the come downstairs. Jason appeared at the top of the steps first in his matching swimming trunks and shirt all decked out with tiger sharks. His favorite animal at the moment. He proudly held up his shark goggles. “Look daddy, I’m a shark!”

In a weird way I was grateful for the lockdown. I’d never been able to spend so much time with him and it made me happier than I’d ever been. “I see little man! Where’s Rori?”

“Coming, sorry!”

Chapter 2 -

Aurora POV

Josh stood at the bottom of the steps in nothing but black swimming trunks. My mouth went dry and heart pounded as I tried not to stare at him while Jason and I made our way downstairs hand in hand. It was tough though, his dark bronze skin and spiraling tattoos were mesmerizing.

He’d given me a cursory glance before looking away and even though I’m not terribly vain, it stung my pride a little. I should be ashamed that I picked the cheap and simple but pretty blue mesh halter and boy short set because I thought be would like it. As if he’d ever look at me the same way I do him.

Tucking the sadness away I padded out to the pool with Jason who was already fighting with his arm floats before he’d made it to the water. “Here let me help-“

The words were cut off by splash of water, my own shriek of surprise and Jason’s shriek of laughter. Josh had blown by us to canon ball into the water before surfacing with a challenging smirk.

It would be hard to ignore the heat pooling between my legs.

Well, until little man threw his arms up and demanded to be thrown in for a big splash that is. Happy to oblige and to cool off I scooped him up and we jumped in. What I’d planned as a swimming lesson turned into lots of laughing and splashing with Jason getting brave enough to paddle back and forth between us a few times.

After a while he was tired and become more preoccupied with making his pool toy shark eat his other action figures. Josh drifted over to where I stood in the shallow water while Jason played nearby on the step. “Hey.”

“Hey?”

“What happened here?” Gently he brought his fingers to a healing bruise on my arm. Anxiety twisted my stomach painfully. I had to come up with something, my mother had trained me to lie about this sort of thing.

“Oh, uh, I just, I just dropped something when I was reaching for a can on a shelf at home. Clumsy, just brought my arm up so it wouldn’t like hit me on the face or anything. Nothing, no worries.” I realized I was rambling when his brow furrowed and he narrowed his eyes.

Fuck. He didn’t need to know mom’s latest boyfriend was a real dick, even for her.

“A can huh?”

The truth was I hadn’t moved fast enough to get out of his way a couple days ago and so he grabbed me by the arm, hard enough to leave those prints, shook me and slung me across the room. Not the first time one of the men she’d brought home had done something similar but no one had ever really paid attention and my mom had threatened me with much worse if I ever told.

“Yeah, just a stupid accident.” I tried to smile reassuringly but could tell it wasn’t working. Josh opened his mouth but fortunately for me, little man chose then to pounce, throwing himself at us with abandon only a happy toddler could achieve.

“Make splashes Rori!”

“You sure did! How about we get dried off and go watch a movie?” I was grateful for the distraction. Hopefully he would let it go.

————

Jey POV

Late that night I laid in bed scrolling through photos from the last few weeks, looking for clues and wracking my brain for an explanation. Aurora had never lied to me before and I should have her drug tested if she thought I bought that story about the can. I know what a bruise from someone gripping you too tightly looks like. Why was she being so evasive about it?

*Does she have a boyfriend? Some little shit who thinks he’s tough?*

An intense anger erupted in my chest at the thought of anyone putting their hands on her. In any way. Thinking about her kissing someone else, *fucking* someone else, made me physically sick.

I resolved to get the the bottom of it. Why weren’t her parents doing anything about it? Did they notice?

Wait. Does she live with them?

It dawned on me that I know next to nothing about her or her living situation. Most of our conversations revolve around Jason or the chores or how my day had been or what I wanted for dinner. I knew she was a college student and we’d chatted about a few times about things like music or movies or my job but never had she mentioned her family or friends or relationships at all, except one girl named Jamie. And all I knew about her was that they’d seen a movie together recently.

I’d snapped a few pictures today. Only one of just her but that was the one I settled on looking at. She stood mid thigh in the pool, her golden skin wet and the red of her messy bun stood out in the sunlight. The swimsuit wasn’t too revealing but I’d almost embarrassed myself. Seeing her coming down the steps it that simple but sexy outfit had me at half mast in no time, I’d had no choice but to hustle my ass into the cold pool or risk her noticing.

Looking at the picture now I had the same problem, my cock twitching to life at the thought of tasting her everywhere. Closing my eyes I dropped my phone and let myself pull my boxers down. Picturing her sweet smile I imagined she was there with me, straddling my waist, her walls clenched tightly around me.

Slowly I started stroking myself, imaginary Aurora’s movements were careful and shy and gentle, just like everything else about her. Her small hands braced against my chest, fingers digging in as her cheeks flushed with pleasure and she panted in need.

*”Daddy, please!”*

Increasing my pace I imagined taking control, clutching her hips and bracing myself with my ankles as I thrust up at a much more aggressive pace. My knees drew up and I clutched the sheet with my free hand as her cries filled my ears.

*”Harder Daddy, yes yes! I’m gonna cum!”*

I didn’t fight the groan that rose in my throat as I sped up even more. It was my fantasy and we would finish together.

“Fuck Rori, baby…” I bit my lip when I came, spilling hot ropes of cum onto my stomach as my hips bucked and twitched. For a few seconds I just lay there breathing hard.

I’d lost count of how many times I’d gotten off this exact same way now. I knew I should stop but it was becoming something of an obsession. It wouldn’t be the first time in my life I’d developed a fixation, just not quite so focused in on a particular female before.

I hoped it would pass when the lockdowns lifted and I could get some of this pent up want out but deep inside I knew that wouldn’t be the case.

No, something about those big hazel eyes and loving personality had dug itself deep inside me. I swiped at the mess I’d made with my shirt before throwing it in the hamper in the corner of the room. A twisted part of me hoped she’d notice when she did laundry and wonder if I was thinking about her but the realistic part of me would kick in and handle the mess in the morning.

Settling in to the covers I hoped she was comfortable and safe, wherever she was.

[im-minorly-stuck]

“i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere” - Taylor Swift, this is me trying

This lyric has and will always have a special place in my heart. I fell in love with it from the moment i listened to this is me trying for the very first time, though I wouldn’t fully understand its true meaning until years later. It resonated with me in such a deep manner from the very beginning and, whether i related it to getting a C+ on my 10th grade trigonometry math quiz or to being on the edge of dropping out of high school during my senior year, it has accompanied me throughout all the times where i simply couldn’t get on top of it.

Looking back at it, it’s funny to think how much my perspective of things has changed since this song entered my life, believe it or not, the first time i found myself relating to this lyric was during a period of time where I was at, as much as i hate to call it this, my peak (academically at least). I was 15 and coursing the second year of my IGCSE’s, I was working hard, had an obnoxious amount of academic motivation (thank you Rory Gilmore), and was overall everything you needed to be to get called a “model student” on your report card. Growing up with untreated Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, this period of time was the most validated i had ever been in my life. My parents were proud, my teachers were happy, people were asking me for help in school— I was everything i always aspired to be. So yeah, when i got that C+ on a math quiz, my world crumbled down. Looking back at it, that was the smallest of problems in the whole world, i ended up getting one of the 5 best scores on the IGCSEs out of the 100 students in my class. Man, at the time i was being told if i kept it up i would end up at Harvard.

Sorry for the yapping, i promise, there’s a point im going to make. So, why do i say i wouldn’t learn the true meaning of these lyrics until years later— if you had told 15 year old me i would be where i am right now, you would probably get slapped in the face. “i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere” I entered my senior year of high school being told i was an “Academic Weapon” and when this label was suddenly ripped off from me, it was like i had no purpose anymore. When a ton of small things and situations (that i wont mention not because they weren’t significant but because they don’t deserve to be dwelled on) collided, i hit rock bottom. Everything that was once so important to me did not matter anymore. I went from being the top student to missing school once or twice a week, as much as i tried to get back on track i couldn’t, and the buildup of this constant disappointment and frustration resulted in the worst possible situation a student like me could end up in— not caring. I went from straight A’s to not being able to get out of bed in the mornings.

“fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here”. Fast forward to today: as im writing this, im sitting on my bed (not the uncomfortable, twin-sized dorm bed that, ironically, I long for over my memory-foam queen bed at home) trying to find something to do with my life. I graduated high school in June, something that during the first months of this year i didn’t think was possible. I didn’t drop out, and i finished the IB diploma with a somewhat decent score (nowhere near the score in the 40s that i was sure i would achieve before everything went down but not horrible either), i did things that right now seem like the bare minimum but in January they weren’t even a possibility for me. But now, here I am at home because, in the end, I decided to take a gap year—not really my decision, but rather something i was forced to do in order to recover from the chaos that was last year. I wouldn’t be sitting at home right now if college applications didn’t turn into a fiasco, to say the least. I started the year as motivated as one could be, but when the time came to finally apply, my state of mind ruined everything i had prepared for in the past years. I didn’t do my college research at all, I only applied to those schools whose name has been glorified in the media— NYU, Yale, UChicago to name a few. Realistically, i had no chance at being admitted, but i guess i wanted to hold onto that superiority complex of being the very best. My essays were an awful combination of bland ideas and ChatGPT— I just know the admissions officers laughed when they read “In the complex tapestry that is” as the opening sentence of my common app essay. So, obviously, there came rejection after rejection. I was accepted to one school in Canada, a school that i hate and had no plans to attend.

So here I am, reminiscing on everything i could’ve done better so that i wouldn’t be stuck at home, playing dress to impress religiously and bed rotting all day instead of being at college doing what i love. I haven’t come to peace with me taking this year off, cause frankly, i love learning, and being at home with nothing to do has me spiraling. The hardest part is seeing everyone being where i want to be, while i’m stuck, trying to figure out anything that would make this year not be a complete waste of my time.

This is definitely not where i thought i would be right now, and i can’t help but feel angry at my past self for not caring enough to do something about it. I’m still working on coming to terms with the fact that im here and there’s nothing i can do to change it.

i was so ahead of the curve, i was everything i wanted to be, and being a high achiever academically was my whole sense of identity. But then, when life was not being great to me, the curve became a sphere, and suddenly i was trying to live up to what i once was, i was behind after being at the very top. I fell behind all my classmates, i missed more than 20% of the school year, i wasn’t keeping up with what a senior in high school is supposed to. So, i ended up here, not enrolled at a university, not knowing what i’m doing and trying to find something to feel useful.

Even though this isn’t where I expected to be, I’m learning to make the most of it. I’ve started working through college applications again, but this time with a clearer sense of direction. I found an online course in neuroscience—something I love—which has helped me feel like I’m not wasting time. It’s also made me realize that my true passion lies in medicine, not just research. So, while this gap year wasn’t part of the original plan, I’m trying to use it to regroup and grow. I might not have control over the past, but I’m determined to shape what comes next.

Thank you for listening to my yapping (that probably reads as a cry for help), i don’t know what this blog will turn into, right now im just trying to reflect and find peace in my journey. Thank you for being here to listen to my chaotic thoughts— talk soon <3

[a-wins-a-win]

mouse's attempted B;APO timeline

aka i was writing an irrelevant detail in a silly little fic and it occurred to me that oh wait i could actually think about this!!

credit where credit's due - i am using this timeline right here (from @hearmyvoicee) as a base, but i have some particular thoughts/interpretations of my own + felt like using 2001 dates! (bc why not, ya know? keep it basically of the time it opened) so this whole thing is mostly for my own reference, but if it makes sense to any of y'all as well? great <;3 [keeping it under the cut for my own sanity + yours]

.✨.

Sunday, January 7 [the feast of the Epiphany is celebrated on January 6th, or the closest Sunday to that date - in the case of 2001, that's the 7th]

Epiphany

Monday - Friday, January 8 - 12 [ i swear on my life someone mentioned to me once that it's generally accepted that You & I spans several days?? i cannot find who or where but someone tell me i'm not going insane ]

You & I

Friday, January 12 [the friday is entirely arbitrary, just seems the type of day you'd hold auditions - give it a week to stir interest, cast on friday, start up your rehearsals from the next monday onwards] [i have never been in theater though, so don't hold me to that]

Role Of A Lifetime

Auditions

Plain Jane Fatass

Thursday, February 22 [to me the phrase "we'll meet in Tanya's room on Friday night" implies that it's not yet Friday + in theory the song takes place during study hall, so an actual weekday? so to that end it could be any day monday-thursday, the specifics not mattering in particular, but i arbitrarily went with thursday so that Ivy’s birthday lines up right]

Wonderland

Friday, February 23

A Quiet Night At Home

Rolling

Best Kept Secret

Wednesday, February 28 [borrowing from the previous timeline for this one - the Lent + Ash Wednesday significance makes sense] [to that end, Ash Wednesday 2001 was in fact February 28th]

Confession

Portrait Of A Girl

Thursday, March 1 [in Wonderland they reference the fact that "Ivy's birthday's in a week", ergo wonderland date + 1 week]

Birthday, Bitch!

One Kiss

Are You There?

911! Emergency!

Friday, March 2 [peter mentions 911! Emergency as being "last night"]

Reputation Stain'd

Ever After

Saturday, March 10 [generally, the Spring Break week is from March 11 to March 17, so in my head it makes sense for them to be leaving for their spring break the day beforehand - ergo, March 10th]

Spring

One

✨ spring break / intermission ✨

Sunday, March 17 [the sunday makes sense in my head to mirror Epiphany]

Wedding Bells

Monday, March 19

In The Hallway

Monday, March 26 [ as claire says - "gone a week, i miss you already". so if classes started again on the 19th + 1 week is the 26th ]

Touch My Soul

See Me

Warning

[sidenote, easter 2001 was sunday april 15. to that end, to account for the Easter Monday holiday, likely they had the 16th off also]

Friday, May 18 [okay listen!! i know it crowds A LOT of act 2 together but!! the way sister chantelle says here "if you decide you want to get together one more time" implies to me that they aren't going to be having more Official rehearsal time before the play actually gets performed] [it all has to occur between monday may 14 & sunday may 20 for jason's "graduate next sunday" line to be technically correct] [rory's decided that they'll "meet back here. seven o'clock" - which i was always under the impression is the supposed to be rehearsal that sets up Promise] [Nadia's "call me tonight, or tomorrow, or whenever" to me implies that she won't see him tomorrow? so probably they don't have any classes or rehearsal the next day]["i know it's late" in Cross is such a little detail, but to me it just ties it all up]

Pilgrim's Hands

God Don't Make No Trash

All Grown Up

Promise

Once Upon A Time

Cross

Saturday, May 19 [saturday night seems a reasonable time to put on the show, right? like in order to make it accessible to family + friends outside of the school?]

Two Households

Bare

Queen Mab

A Glooming Peace

Tuesday, May 22 [a {catholic} person is buried between 2 and 7 days after their death, typically around 3. i always got the vibes that Absolution was supposed to take place on/around jason's funeral, ergo the play + 3 days]

Absolution

Sunday, May 27 [going with the assumption that they graduate on the last sunday in may, in 2001 that date was the 27th]

No Voice

.✨.

wanna make it super clear that i a) am australian and b) am not catholic and c) have never been to boarding school or in theater so a lot of dates were found via google search, and/or arbitrarily assigned weekdays

also also at the end of the day i'm not sure the specifics of the timeline super duper matter, it was mostly just for fun - but like. feel free to share ur thoughts!

[eternalsimsstories]

The Pack

Previous | Next

Chapter: University

Keep on Reading.

Well, you might never know when the full moon is going to rise, even in Britechester. Five out of the six werewolves actually turned into their alter egos, except for Panagiota. I guess all werewolves are not the same. However, only Adna and Jacob can control their emotions in wolf form; Kristofer, Cornelia, and Rory can't (but they, along with Macie Pruitt and the Sanderson twins, will be mentioned in future stories coming soon).

But guess who graduated from Britechester University? It was Veronica's and Jakob Denny's oldest daughter, Adna, and her boyfriend, Jacob Volkov. Right after the graduation ceremony, Jacob got down on one knee and proposed to the future Queen of Moonwood Mills. Obviously, she said yes, and they both had to tell all of their roommates the news, starting with their son, Adrian. He was so excited that both of his parents were finally making it official. Soon, they had to tell her brother and two sisters the news, as well as everyone else.

But before they could do that, they had to get jobs. Of course, her parents were going to pay for the wedding, since her mother is the Queen. But they wanted to prove that they can be responsibile adults. So, Adna got a job at an art gallery, while Jacob became a banker.

Adrian got his haircut and proudly showed it off to his family a day before the wedding.

The wedding itself took place at Denny Castle, first in the backyard and then in the banquet hall on the top floor. Everyone was there celebrating, from Kristofer Volkov to the King and Queen of the Spellcasters. All their roommates were also there, along with all the adult werewolves in human form, Adna's mother, and her youngest brother, Zsolt. The only ones in wolf form were her father and brother, Jakov. However, they were in control of their urges and did not ruin the wedding.

Everyone had a good time. At the end of the night, before Queen Veronica presented them with a title and a new home, Adna surprised everyone by announcing that she and her family would be moving back to Denny Castle in Moonwood Mill. She had a good reason: her parents are now seniors. She and Jacob Volkov decided that they would take a honeymoon later and help out her parents with royal duties.

Adrian was glad to be back home because he missed playing with his uncle Zsolt and Grandpa Jakob.

As for Adna's and Jacob Volkov's titles, that is to be continued...

Note: There will be a poll at the end of this story about the Royal University students. I would like to know which of these sims to follow in future plots. That will be later. I would also like to encourage you to help me figure out a future storyline for these characters. Sometimes, I draw a blank when it comes to that. I do really appreciate the help from you readers.

To Be Continued...

Keep on Reading.

[scotianostra]

27th November 1950 saw the death of the professional golfer and golf course designer James Braid.

James Braid is one of the finest golfers Scotland has ever produced, but he is all but forgotten nowadays, if he was born in the modern age he would be mentioned in the same breath as Tiger Woods, Rory McIlroy and the likes.

Born in Earlsferry in Fife, Braid was a founder of the world’s first PGA and won the prestigious Open Championship an impressive five times.

He was a tall, powerful player who was well known for striking the ball with considerable venom, but he always maintained an appearance of outward calm.

Though Braid started his golfing life with putting problems, he pioneered the use of aluminium headed putters - and became lethal on the greens. He became one of a group of golfers (alongside JH Taylor and Harry Vardon) known as the ‘Great Triumvirate’ who dominated the game during the early 20th century.

With his vast experience of tournament play and his keen eye and understanding of design and construction, Braid was perfectly placed to move into golf architecture. He set the standard in golf course design that the rest of the world would follow.

Braid was a pioneer in his field and was renowned for the dog-leg angles of his courses, as well as the pot bunker. His legacy lives on in over 200 courses across Scotland and the UK. However, due to his dislike of travel, he designed only one course in the United States, and never actually visited the site in person.

To fully understand why James Braid is considered one of the finest golf course designers of all time, you simply have to see his work for yourself. From the stunning King’s and Queen’s courses at Gleneagles in Perthshire, to the last course with his stamp on it at Stranraer in Dumfries & Galloway, his legacy lives on.

If you want to see mor of his courses, check out the link below for The James Braid Golf Trail https://www.yourgolftravel.com/19th-hole/the-james-braid-trail/