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still-a-morosexual-help · 5 months

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(Gonna use Queen B MC's default name because fucking Bea is a perfect name for her)

I have so much to get off my chest about this rn -> i'm chewing through my bars

!!! So the thing about Queen B is that there's only two LIs right? But Bea gets the option to flirt with and sleep with a whole bunch of other people. And the difference between these two sets of choices are shown by the icon that appears when you have a romantic moment with them.

So for the two LIs any romantic/sexual moment is followed by a -> ❤️

And for casual flirting/hookups it's followed by a -> 👄

And in Book 1, you get multiple opportunities to romance the two LIs but only about a couple opportunities per character to flirt with the other characters

And then, in Book 2, suddenly, this changes! Suddenly, you're getting almost as many chances to flirt with/sleep with Poppy (Bea's arch fucking enemy) as you are to romance the two LIs. But still her icon firmly remains as 👄.

Because she's not a Love Interest. Bea and Poppy hate each other. They're constantly trying to ruin each other's lives in the most Evil ways possible. At most they're enemies-with-benefits having a hatefuck to work out the tension. Bea straight up just Evil Laughs while thinking about killing Poppy using her bare hands on a regular basis

But then,

But Then, it starts becoming obvious that they're having fun together. Whether they're plotting the other's ultimate downfall or just sniping at each other this is fun for them. Bea accuses Poppy of never having met anyone more interesting & fun than her, and Poppy accuses Bea of being obsessed with her. And they're both right.

And then Bea starts joking about Poppy being in love with her, which Poppy never outright denies

And then Poppy compares Bea to a dog follwing her around, and Bea cheerfully reminds Poppy that she likes dogs, and not only does Poppy not deny it, she agrees by saying she's always had a thing for strays

And then Poppy starts saying insanely romantic things while they dance together, like how Bea makes her more herself/ths best version of herself (more cunning, manipulative and straight up evil of course)

And then Bea starts calling Poppy adorably cute nicknames like "Pop" and "Poptart" (while obviously ruining her life of course)

And then at one point when Bea teases Poppy about liking her and gets a scoff in return the achievement that pops up is "De-nial isn't only a river"

But through this all, it's still 👄. Because it's not Romance. They're still gleefully trying to tear each other down to use the other as a stepping stool to their own success. There's no actual Romantic feelings here, right? They're just flirting with their enemy as one more thing they can hold over the other. They're just flying a little too close to the sun.

And then at the end of Book 2 if you choose Bea's final moments after the gala to be spent with Poppy, you skip ahead to the graduation;

Rightfully, this should be It for Poppy & Bea. The last day they see each other. They don't ever have to meet again. Not after all the horrible things they've done to each other. Nothing binds them.

There are reasons why Bea will still be involved with the two Actual LIs because Zoey is her best friend & partner in crime, and Ina/Ian has instant sexual chemisty with her and is fully in love with Bea whether or not you choose any romantic options for them. There's nothing like that binding Poppy to Bea. Because even if they do have fun together they also spend an awful lot of time wishing to never see the other again - and now there's no more excuse left for them.

There's a difference between ❤️ & 👄 characters, and it's made obvious from the beginning that there's nothing more to 👄 options, there no strings attached at all. So that's the end.

Unless, Bea spends her last moments of the gala with Poppy.

Because then, during her graduation speech she starts talking about the most important person to her in Uni, the one who made the biggest impact in her life, the one she can't let go of, and it's Poppy. And it's all said with a sincere yet mocking edge to it, because that's what they's like. And Poppy is fucking furious. And where Bea & the LIs would have exchanged "I love you"s here, Bea & Poppy exhange a "I loathe you"

And then you know what happens, you know what fucking happens!!???

A Fucking ❤️ pops up and the entire series just ends.

Do you see why I'm tearing my hair out!???? The end of the fucking Queen B series is the start of Bea x Poppy's actual romance. It's an open ending for them and the only thing you can do is imagine where they go from here and it's beautiful. They're always gonna be plotting to destroy the other and they're always gonna daydream about the other's death by their hand but now they're going to do it while falling in love.

#THROWING up #every once in a while choices gives a MC the MOST INSANE relationship with someone who isn't actually a LI & expect us to be normal about it #choices queen b #queen b 2 #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #poppy x bea

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sparring-hyena · 4 months

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gorgeous.

based on this post i made recently because i have zero chill.

OR, the one where they meet again years later and maybe hate isn’t what we think it is.

Poppy hates her immediately. again.

a loud laugh rips through the ball room, slides seamlessly between mingling guests and gentle music. Poppy's attention snaps away from her parents' friend's cousin's son who's droning on about rowing and his private equity firm and about how it was oh so lovely to summer in Florence this year.

Poppy sips her drink, makes an effort to not roll her eyes, and tries to focus back on what... Angus or Anthony (something with an A, she thinks) had been saying.

and then there's the laugh again--loud and alive and unapologetic. no one else seems bothered by it. no one else even bats an eye at the disruption.

Poppy cranes her head to look around the ballroom now, fully forgetting about Arthur or Andrew and everything he had been saying. and then she sees her.

her in the dark dress shimmering in the light like the goddamn inky black midnight sky. her with the toned arms and long fingers holding gently onto a flute of champagne. Poppy's eyes dip to the slit in her dress that runs dangerously high up her thigh. up, up, up and then--

Poppy sees her face.

and she thinks no, it can't be.

and the universe hums and says oh, yes, it can be.

she flips her hair over her shoulder and for one glorious second, the world around them stops, they share a quiet smile that hides years of unsaid truths, and Poppy thinks that maybe, just maybe, she'll be able to get out of this unscathed.

then the world roars back into focus, she is smirking now, and Adam or Alexander is gently touching her arm and asking if she's alright.

"sorry, what was that?" Poppy says, blinking it all away and trying not to think about her racing heart.

"i was asking if you wanted to go for a walk," he says, "my place isn't too far from here."

"oh, uh, no, thank you." Poppy tips back the rest of her drink, leaves the empty glass on the table, and ventures deeper into the ballroom, hoping that she can get lost for the next few hours.

she grabs another flute of champagne from a passing waiter, takes one long sip, and decides that it's too claustrophobic inside. she can feel a warmth in her cheeks and a tingling itchiness beneath her skin.

she steps out into a small outdoor area, where the sounds of the party are muffled by the thick stone walls. Poppy decides that she will give herself one minute. one minute to breathe and freak out and curse out whatever force of the universe thought that this would be funny. one minute to do all of that and then pack it up and go back inside with her head held high as she braces for an assault of questions from her parents about why she screwed up yet another perfect and ideal match.

god forbid she be a person and not some status symbol for her parents.

Poppy's just about to go back inside, just about to pack it all back in, when she turns around and comes face to face with her--AJ Hughes.

"i thought i saw you across the room," AJ says as she reaches out to gently push a loose piece of hair behind Poppy's ear.

Poppy flinches away from the touch.

"ouch, really?"

"what do you want?"

AJ shrugs and actually has the audacity to look shy or nervous or unsure. Poppy has never hated anything the way that she hates that.

"i just thought..." AJ starts.

"thought what? that you'd walk back into my life after six years and try make a mess of it again? i am the best i have ever been and i don't need you dragging me down to your level. so if you don't mind--" Poppy pushes past AJ and at the last possible second, AJ reaches for Poppy's hand.

there's barely any contact. AJ's fingers barely touch her hand, but it's enough to make Poppy stop and look back at her. it's enough to send a spark of energy coursing through her veins and setting her nerve endings alight.

Poppy snaps her hand back. she doesn't say anything, can't say anything because the shock of it all renders her brain to mush and has her heart beat thundering in her chest.

she makes her escape quickly after that. doesn't say anything to AJ as she leaves her alone outside. doesn't even bother to say anything to her parents--she'll take the verbal lashing tomorrow when she wakes up hours after them and they accuse her of all sorts of things.

the outside air is cool against her flushed cheeks; reminds her that summer is well and truly over and that fall is setting in.

Poppy hails a cab and deeply exhales when she falls back against the seat. she decides that tonight was a one time thing. a one time lapse in judgement where she let her guard down and AJ caught her. it doesn't even matter really, because she won't ever have to see AJ again.

another six years will fall away, and then six more after that, and again and again, until she's so far removed from the life she's living now, that the name AJ Hughes will be the echo of a memory.

it's barely six weeks before Poppy's mingling and dancing and drinking at another gala that her parents have dragged her too. this one's to raise money for sick kids so she feels less bad about being here, but still wishes her parents would leave her alone for just one night and not try to set her up with someone.

she dodges another invite home, is always firm yet polite about how she does that, because her parents would never let her hear the end of it if someone took offence to something that she said or did, and she's on thin ice as it is with them. has been for years in fact, and can't quite seem to mend what was broken.

sometimes just as she's about to fall asleep, when she can blame it all on a sleep-fogged brain, she thinks about what her life could have been like had she just done something different. had she stood up to her parents all those years ago. had she stopped pretending that any of it made her happy. had she just accepted what AJ had been so willing to give her.

that last one always comes right at the end, right as she's about to fall off into sleep. and sometimes those what ifs bleed into her dreams and leave an ache in her chest when she wakes again.

Poppy moves easily between the other guests and even plucks another flute of champagne from a passing waiter. and just as she turns back around, Poppy sees AJ across the room. again.

and after a second that stretches on for way too long, where Poppy's heart beats dangerously in her chest for something that she refuses to acknowledges even exists, AJ returns to her conversation as though her entire world hasn't been shifted. as though Poppy's the only one experiencing this.

Poppy huffs. fine. ignore her then.

ignore ignore ignore. Poppy can do that.

the nights and galas and events carry on after that, bleeding and muddling together. sometimes there are sit down dinners, and sometimes--rarely--Poppy and AJ are seated next to each other and have to both play like civil acquaintances in front of everyone else at their table.

mostly though--mostly--Poppy doesn't entertain a single thought of AJ. although sometimes she wonders if by not thinking about her at all, it actually counts as thinking of her. that just winds up frustrating herself more and she reaches for more champagne from passing waiters.

and then some time at the end of winter, when the snow is slush and the sky has a hazy grey tint, Poppy makes a mistake. she's alone with AJ. although not alone alone. they're on a packed elevator, pressed shoulder to shoulder in the back.

AJ keeps one arm folded over her chest at first, tries her best to keep some space between them, but it's all so pointless because Poppy can still feel every minute movement from AJ.

so they aren't alone, but it sure feels like they could be, because for all her efforts, all Poppy can think about is the way that their arms press together.

and then--then then then--AJ moves her arm from across her chest down beside Poppy's own arm.

Poppy doesn't move, doesn't dare breathe or look at AJ.

AJ brushes her fingers against Poppy's, and then Poppy does something regretful. she forgets where they are and what they are and-- everything. she forgets it all and holds AJ's fingers in her own. holds on so tightly and desperately wishes for the elevator to slow or stop altogether.

she feels warm all over and wonders where it all went so wrong.

and then the elevator stops, dings, and the doors slide open.

Poppy releases AJ's hand and follows everyone else off. but AJ stays with her back against the elevator for a moment, and Poppy allows herself one more moment of weakness to look back.

Poppy wonders how the doors haven't closed yet. thinks that maybe this is the universe again trying do something-- nice or cruel? she's not too sure.

"we could be happy," AJ whispers, not that she needs to, there's no one else around.

and her words stab into Poppy's heart and twist and dig and burrow in so deep she doubts she's ever be able to get them out.

everything around her slows for a moment. Poppy can see the doors beginning to close, can see that AJ's not going to get out, can see this moment slipping away. can see all the other moments from years ago and years from now playing out in a montage in her mind, all slipping away.

and she wonders why why why it all has to be so stupid and messy and complicated and-- she steps into the elevator just as the doors shut firmly behind her. and in that same breathless second, AJ bounces off the wall, meets her halfway, and drags her into a perfect kiss.

she hates herself a little for refusing this, for spending so many years unhappy. because if what she feels right now with her hands in AJ's hair, and AJ's on her waist, and their lips locked together, is any indication of what she'll feel tomorrow and next week and years from now--

"promise me," AJ says, breathing the words against Poppy's lips. "promise me that we'll try, because i can't--"

"it'll be hard work."

"i know."

"i'm stubborn and mean."

"i wouldn't want you any other way."

"i promise." Poppy kisses her and then again for good measure. "i've missed you."

"i can't do another six years without you."

"you won't have to."

#poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #my writing #playchoices #queen b

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storyofmychoices · 4 months

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Whimsical Walks and Poetic Talks

Valentine's Gift #2 for the wonderful @oh-so-youre-a-nerd! @choicesfandomappreciation

Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire x Tulsi (F!MC) (@oh-so-youre-a-nerd)

Book: Desire & Decorum

Word Count: >550

Rating/Warning: General/None

Synopsis: Ernest and Tulsi take a late afternoon walk around Ledford Park.

This art of Ernest and Tulsi is by @liiyaan!

The orange glow of the setting sun bathed Ledford Park in an amber glow, its warmth welcoming Ernest and Tulsi, who had embarked on a leisurely stroll through the newly renovated garden. The bushes, shrubs, and flowers had just begun to show the first signs of life as spring began ushering in a new season, one which would hopefully allow the couple to put the troubles of the past behind them.

Ernest breathed in the brisk, cool air settling around them as dusk threatened its approach. He marveled at the colors painted across the sky and how the rays of sunlight danced along the tops of the trees, holding onto the world around them. It reminded him of a poem he had once read. His lips curled slightly, his mouth opening, but before he could share the words of beauty in question, Tulsi had other ideas.

A whimsical query sparkled in her eyes. "If you were a flower, which one would you be and why?"

Ernest paused in his step, not expecting the question. He shook his head; he should be used to her impulsive questions. His guarded demeanor softened as their pace resumed.

"And keep in mind, there are right answers." She teased, her step light beside him as she eagerly awaited his thoughtful reply.

His free hand pinched the bridge of his nose, his brow furrowing as he considered his response. "If I must participate—"

"You must!"

"I thought as much," Ernest chuckled. "Then, in response to your query, a thistle."

"Go on," Tusli encouraged, waiting for his reasoning.

"A thistle is sharp with a protective exterior," he began, watching her reaction. "Some might even describe them as prickly, and yet, they are resilient and can thrive even when faced with challenges."

"I'll allow it." She pressed a kiss to his cheek, his blush warming her lips. "In some cultures, thistles symbolize devotion, bravery, and strength. You, Mr. Sinclaire, possess all of those."

"My beautiful Tulsi, may I regale you with a poem that I am reminded of this evening?" Ernest requested, his eyes brightening at the prospects.

Tulsi smiled softly, she might not appreciate his poetry as he did, but the way he lit up when speaking those words he held close made every word beautiful. "You may."

His attempt to begin was once more quieted by her words.

"However, as you do, consider what kind of fruit you would be and why," Tulsi added. "Oh, and you cannot say a pineapple. You've already used the prickly on the outside reasoning with the thistle."

Ernest attempted to stifle the chuckle rising in his throat. There was no use arguing logistics with Tulsi over the questions. It would get him nowhere, and he quite liked the enjoyment she found with these inquiries. He nodded his agreement and then began reciting the poem.

The cadence of his voice wove a tapestry of emotions, painting the air with the beauty and complexity of the poem's meaning. Tulsi listened, enchanted by the rhythm of his words and the way Ernest's eyes sparkled with passion as he unraveled the layers of the written art.

They might not find the appeal of the same things, but the love they found in each other, and the appreciation for each other's interests they had, kept their relationship growing with every word they shared.

Thia, I hope you enjoy this little drabble of your Tulsi and Ernest. I hope I captured them in a way that fits your vision. Happy Valentine's Day!

PS-I commissioned the art before I asked about their dynamic 🙈

#ChoicesSecretAdmirer2024 #oh-so-youre-a-nerd #gift #choices #playchoices #choices game #playchoices game #ernest sinclaire #ernest sinclarie x mc #desire and decorum #tulsi (dad)#lovealexhunt #storyofmychoices #fan fiction #my commissions #gift commissions #february2024

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bri1234 · 1 month

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Created this from the quote at the top that @peonierose had sent to my inbox! I'm rereading D&D right now and thought the quote fit my MC and Mr. Sinclaire 😊

#thank you for the ask!#desire and decorum #desire and decorum book 1 #mr. sinclaire x mc #choices fandom #choices stories we play #choices #playchoices #choices mood board #asks

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princess-geek · 2 months

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Mr Sincaire & Countess Beatrice Foredale (by @ladylamrian)

Thank you so much, my dear!

Read the fic here.

@jeanele ❣  @missameliep ❣  @regencylady1810 ❣ @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire ❣ @whenyourheartskipsabeat ❣ @xjustin-ethansgirliex ❣@noesapphic ❣  @gardeningourmet ❣ @paisleylovergirl  ❣ @dailydoseofchoices ❣  @rhyssescups ❣  @storyofmychoices ❣  @a-shining-lucky-star ❣   @lorircreates ❣  @lorirwritesfanfic ❣ @walkerduchess ❣@indiacater ❣ @kinkypot ❣ @anotherbeingsworld ❣ @hellooliviaolivia ❣ @pixel-writer19  ❣ @sinclaire-ity  ❣ @darknessabovethelite ❣  @brightningstar ❣@ezekielbhandarivalleros ❣ @marlcasters ❣ @bhartigat81 ❣ @lyannacyrill706 ❣ @daddytyrilstarfury ❣ @secretaryunpaid ❣ @allisonreilynn ❣ @fauxleaves ❣ @twinkleallnight ❣ @kingliamrys ❣ @iloveethanramsey ❣ @surewhyynot ❣ @yvettegolx ❣ @itlivesinpixelberry ❣ @chutchoices ❣ @electroniccreatorwerewolf ❣ @spookycolorpeanut ❣ @peonierose ❣ @quixoticdreamer16 ❣@lilyoffandoms ❣ @tessa-liam

#desire and decorum #desire and decorum fanfic #ernest sinclaire #desire & decorum #ernest sinclaire x mc

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poppysmc · 10 months

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Under the soft glow of string lights and amidst the delicate ambiance of blooming flowers, Bea took in the unexpected scene before her. Poppy, usually brimming with confidence, leaned against the railing, her gaze lost in the dusk sky. With a tender step, Bea approached, her presence going unnoticed until her arms gently encircled Poppy's waist.

"Have you been waiting long?" Bea's voice, a hushed whisper, brushed against Poppy's ear. The faint strains of their favorite song in the air, creating an intimate backdrop to the moment. Poppy's attire exuded impeccable elegance, though a hint of nerves can be seen in her poised demeanor.

Poppy startled, yet her lips curved into a smile as she turned, finding solace in Bea's embrace. "I've missed you," she confessed, a touch of longing tinging her words. "Why did you take so long? I couldn't help but wonder..."

A mischievous glint sparkled in Bea's eyes as she leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss at the corner of Poppy's lips. "You know me better than that," she murmured, a soft laugh threading through her words. "I'd never betray your trust. My heart belongs to you alone."

Poppy's smile widened, a mixture of affection and playful teasing. "Oh, I know." she admitted, her voice a gentle caress against Bea's chest as she nestled her head there. Together, they swayed unconsciously, dancing to the melody that enveloped them.

In a moment pregnant with emotion, Poppy reached into her clutch, producing a small ring box. With a mixture of vulnerability and determination, she held it out to Bea. "I've been wanting to do this for a while now," she confessed, her voice carrying a tremor of anticipation. "Bea, will you marry me?"

Surprise painted across Bea's features, a bright laugh bubbled from her lips. "Yes! But you beat me to it," she marveled at the beautiful ring Poppy slid into her fingers. Bea's hand reached into her coat pocket to reveal another ring box. Playfully, she raised an eyebrow. "I've been carrying this around, waiting for the perfect moment. Only you could make me kneel." Chuckling, she gracefully descended to one knee, extending the ring towards Poppy.

As their fingers intertwined, exchanging rings and sealing their commitment, a radiant smile graced Bea's lips. "You're going to be my wife and I am yours." Bea mused, her voice tender and full of promise. "It sounds great—it sounds like a dream come true. My future wife, my fiancée." Poppy’s joy was palpable, a reflection of the sheer bliss that enveloped them.

#poppy min sinclair x mc #poppy x mc #twitter things #p4?#poppy min sinclair #Boppy

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thelonewolfstar · 1 year

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What if Poppy has a CG?

#choices stories you play #choices #playchoices #poppy min sinclair #mc x poppy #poppy x mc #queen b choices #queen b 2 #fanmade

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theartoflovingthomashunt · 4 months

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Cafe Whispers and Scone Kisses

Pairing: Addison Sinclair x Alex Spencer (F!MC) ; Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer (mentioned) Book: Hollywood U Word Count: ~350 Rating/Warnings: general, no warnings, all the fluff Prompts: @choicespride Date Night Day? ; @choicesfebruary2024 /@jerzwriter : Ludus ; @choicesficwriterscreations FOTW + Pride; A/N: I couldn't find my SSs or videos, so I edited this! Thanks to @gutsfics for my Alex transparent.

Synopsis: Alex and Addison have a coffee date.

Addison tucked a strand of hair behind Alex's ear as she pressed a tender kiss on her girlfriend's cheek. "You look beautiful."

Alex's finger tenderly grazed Addison's jaw, guiding her lips to her own.

Their lips met sweetly, the busy cafe pausing around them. Addison's hand rested on the small of Alex's back as Alex cradled her face, keeping her locked in her embrace. Addison couldn't stop her growing smile.

"I've missed you," Alex whispered as they parted.

"I was only gone for the weekend."

Alex laced her fingers with Addison's, guiding her to a quiet booth in the back where she already had coffee and scones waiting for them. "Am I not allowed to miss my gorgeous girlfriend?"

Her cheeks warmed as she chewed the corner of her lips. "I just figured you'd be distracted with you know who... and not even think about me."

Alex laughed softly, her gaze lingering on the blonde beside her. "You have no idea how incredible you are, do you?"

"Alex—"

"You are insanely talented, generous, kind, gorgeous, and all-around an incredible person. How could I not think about you?" Alex marveled. "I have room in my life for both of you. And you know who doesn't mind sharing me. I think he might actually enjoy it."

Addison hid her smile behind her vanilla latte, taking a sip of the warm liquid. "I missed you too."

"Good," Alex beamed, her gaze never leaving Addison. She shook her head slightly, unsure how she got so lucky to have two wonderful people in her life.

As they enjoyed their coffee and scones in the cozy booth, Addison couldn't wipe the smile off her face. She rested her head on Alex's shoulder, relaxing into her arms. "I'm lucky to have you."

Alex grinned back, "The feeling is mutual, trust me."

The pair nestled comfortably in the corner of the cafe, talking about their respective weekends, sharing words of adoration and soft laughter, forgetting the world around them, and focusing on the warmth blossoming between them.

Just thinking about these two recently and thought it was about time I give them a little drabble!

Not really edited, just something that popped in my head today.

#addison sinclair #addison sinclair x mc #addison x alex #alex x addison #hollywood u #choices #playchoices #choices game #fan fiction #february2024 #lovealexhunt #theartoflovingthomashunt #cfwc lgbtqia #alex spencer #alex hunt

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rando360ina03 · 6 months

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Wenclair Children

they had children 4 children, um idk how u can guess how if u want to idc

Both are set of twins👶

First set: lucien & Claire

Lucien fester sinclair addams: he's male he has enids powers, he did not develop any of Wednesday's powers. Lucien is a very open child as enid but he's stubborn & rude at times come from his other mother. He hates when people yell at him even when he's wrong he has a bit of a nassartistic behavior. Witch enid and wednesday both agreed to get him therapy it did help but there are still aspects. He's very athletic but when it comes to academic view he's not good he usally has C's only in English he has an A. He's a pure wolf

(Wha he kinda looks like)

Claire murray sinclair addams: enid named her 1st daughter after her father(Murray Sinclair). She has a very enid personality, very open & energetic but she has wednesday attributes skillfully & intelligence . She dose have more of wednesday ideals, she uses violence rather than words, athletic but smart unlike Lucien. She dosent fence like wednesday instead she trains with enid is wearwolf hand-to-hand combat, she also target prices with guns she dose use bows but not anymore she did when she trained with wednesday. She hates reading, she's a pure wearwolf like her mama

(she kinda looks like this, btw this is imorge from heatstopper)

Second set of twins: Lucifer & Ophelia

Lucifer Gomez Sinclair Addams: he's name after his grandpa(gomez). He has more of wednesday personality, introvert & 'bother me and I'll make u suffer' mentality. He's quite, he will only speak when spoken to he hates fight, as he has enids ideals. He hates fight hates the idea of fencing as a sport as he sees it as a violent way to hurt people. He likes to talk ot trough. He has social anxiety, he dose like to read and enjoy hiking he isn't trained in ay hand-to-hand combat or anything but his mother wednesday told him to carry a pocket knife witch he hates having it but keeps it as it's his mother's wish. He's a phyicic like is mom

(Him but never really smiling js like his mama)

Ophelia Emilia Sinclair Addams: she's had wednesday personality quiet but sheis extervoeted she the most Luke wednesday. She dosent let anyone talk her down she sees violence as a last resort if needed she will use it. She was trained in hand-to-hand combat. She's smart and athletic she dose fencing, arching and track and she liek to read like her twin. She has both phyicic & wearwolf powers basically a hybrid.

(looks js like wednesday but with blue eyes & her hair in a messy bun insted of braids)

Ask me qestion if you'll like i don't kind answering!

#wenclair #netflix wednesday #enid sinclair #lgbtq #wednesday addams #wednesday x enid #wednesday 2022 #wednesday incorrect quotes #bianca barclay #yoko tanaka #Wenclair kids #okay so wenclair as lucifer mc?#wenclair art

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somewillwin · 1 year

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BOPPY

#lmao #let’s be honest here #my Bea is a herbo #jsjsjjsjs #this fits them so well #poppy x Mc #poppy min sinclair

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still-a-morosexual-help · 2 months

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I love how Queen B initially kinda makes you believe that Bea's job is to take over the campus & become a benevolent ruler all so they can save the entire school body from the tyrannical rule of Satan. Except actually Bea is also Satan but with better people management skills

and then after spending two years trying to publicly murder each other the two tyrants kiss over the burning bodies of the school populace

#choices #queen b #queen b 2 #chlices queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #boppy

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kinda-iconic · 5 months

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Our Last Hope

Author's Notes: And so it is here, the next instalment of Amelia and Ernest's story. I cannot begin to tell you how long I have been working on this - so much so that I have had to split it into two parts! I have loved writing this so much, even though I have broken my own heart once or twice. I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire x MC (Amelia)

Word Count: Over 3'500

Tagging: @princess-geek

Additional Tag list (due to past interest): @bloodboundismylife, @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire, @nala-raines

Song inspiration: Thank You (youtube.com) From the 'Queen Charlotte' Soundtrack

TICK.

Luke makes his way along the darkened corridor, a beam of silvery moonlight illuminating his path. He walks in silence, the sudden chiming of the grandfather clock causing him to startle. He takes a moment to recover, rolling out his shoulders before continuing, only to stop in front of an all-too-familiar door. He softly raps on the wood, pressing his ear against the door as if listening for movement.

But he hears nothing.

He looks down, frowning as his gaze befalls a slither of light underneath the frame. He knocks once more, this time accompanying his efforts with the verbal announcement of his presence.

“I know that you are in there, Ernest,” he waits for a response, but he is met with crickets; after a moment, he speaks again, his hand gently grasping the doorknob, “I am coming in.”

He justles the handle, just for a familiar voice to call back to him from the other side.

“There is no need. I am fine.”

Luke shakes his head, a soft smile escaping him, “I am afraid that I cannot accept that until I see you with my own eyes.”

When he receives no answer, Luke enters the room, quickly spotting Ernest, who sits quietly in his armchair, a glass of scotch nestled between his fingertips. He appears dishevelled, his hair unkempt, dark circles making their home under his eyes. He lifts the glass to his lips, downing its contents.

“You have seen me now,” Ernest retorts, exhaling harshly; he reaches for the decanter, his eyes focusing on the auburn liquid as it swirls around its encasement, “are you satisfied?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Ernest scoffs, shaking his head in drunken amusement.

“We cannot help but be concerned, Er-“

“It’s Mr Sinclaire to you,” Ernest counters, “my given name is not one that I allow to be spoken that freely.”

“Other than by Amelia, you mean.”

“Amelia is my wife,” he refills his glass, taking a grateful sip; the liquor burns its way down his throat, causing him to grimace, “that certainly is stronger than I remember.”

“Is that not what you were drinking before?”

“I have finished that bottle already,’ he lifts his glass in the air, gesturing to the empty chair beside him with a tilt of his glass, “drink?”

“If it means that I can watch over you for a little while.”

Ernest doesn’t answer; instead, he rises from his perch, pondering over to his liquor cabinet. He retrieves a fresh glass from within, his fingers fumbling over the rim as he tries to better his grip. Luke frowns, walking over with an offer of assistance.

“Let me help you with that…”

He reaches forward, but is stopped by Ernest, who raises a hand in dismissal.

“I am capable of collecting a glass, Mr Harper.”

He places the vessel down, filling it near enough to the brim. Luke winces, the sound being swiftly rebuked by the quip of Ernest’s brow.

“Have I displeased you in some way?”

“N-no, I just…” Luke lifts the glass to his nose momentarily; he takes a swig, clearing his throat soon after, his eyes enlarging as he watches Ernest finish yet another glass, “maybe you should slow down a little bit.”

“I would say that I am going at a fairly reasonable pace.”

“I meant with the drinking, Sir.”

“I drink as I see fit.”

A comfortable silence passes between the pair for a moment, neither daring to so much as utter a single word. It is only after a couple of minutes that Luke speaks, his expression growing sombre as he studies the broken man before him.

“Normally, you would not hesitate to ask someone to join you in this endeavour.”

“Well, I…I guess I just wanted to be on my lonesome for a little while.”

Ernest walks back over to his chair, slumping back into the leather.

“Is there anything that you need?” Luke enquires, “I can get one of the maids to make you something to-“

“You could get me another scotch,” he looks down at his empty glass, his brows knitting together in a frown, “I…seem to be out.”

“Have mine. Or at least…half of it.”

He retrieves Ernest’s glass, dividing the untouched liquor equally. He places the glass on the end table before meandering over to the fireplace, holding his dainty glass in his outstretched palm. After a moment, Luke tilts his head towards the spirit, his expression unreadable.

“I know it is not much,” he admits, carefully pondering the appropriateness of his following admission, “but I thought that it would be best not to supply you with more should the Doctor need to discuss anything with you.”

Ernest collects his offering, bowing his head in quiet appreciation.

“Is that something that you have decided upon yourself, or did the others influence that decision?”

When he is met with no immediate reply, he shakes his head, a despondent sigh escaping his lips.

“The amount I drink is no concern of yours, nor should it have ever been a talking point for your gossip.”

“Forgive me, Sir,” Luke appears hesitant, aware as to the severity of Ernest’s emotional state, “but we had no choice but to discuss it.”

“My,” Ernest retorts, his response almost sarcastic, “has the rumour mill already run dry?”

He downs the contents of his glass without pause, heading back over to the decanter; his brows furrow in concentration as he fixes himself another drink. He takes a swig, only turning to face Luke once his second glass is almost fully depleted.

“I am sorry that you have drawn the short straw tonight, Mr Harper,” his tone is hollow, “I am not exactly what one would call ‘pleasant’ company right now.”

Luke frowns, “that is not true in the slightest.”

“You were previously close to referring to me as a drunkard.”

“We are worried about you,” Luke takes another step towards to his counterpart, yet choosing to remain at a respectable distance, “if ever you would like anyone to step in and look after the child or sit at Amelia’s bedside-“

“I have no desire for either,” he stops himself short, giving in to his frustration, “I will take care of my family. They are my responsibility.” Ernest takes one last sip of his drink, the glass shaking slightly in his grasp as he forcefully slams it onto the table, “I’ll be damned if anyone else shoulders that.”

“You need rest, Ernest,” Luke approaches cautiously, placing a comforting hand on Ernest’s arm, “you have not slept since Amelia delivered, neither have you been eating properly.” He replaces the lid on the decanter, holding it by its neck before moving it elsewhere, “I can go and ask Briar or one of the kitchen maids if they could prepare-“

“I will eat when my wife is well and not a moment before.”

“What if Amelia doesn’t get better?”

The two men regard one another before Ernest looks away, casting his gaze out the window and to the ground below.

“I do not wish to talk about that.”

“But that is exactly why it needs to be spoken about,” Luke counteracts, “we have all spoken to the Doctor. We know the prognosis-“

“He had no right to discuss Amelia’s condition with any of you,” his exclamation is one of anger, his words laced with emotion and unwarranted venom, “the only one that has any right to know what is going on is me; nobody else.”

“So her brother doesn’t have any right to know how critical her condition is? Her family deserve to-“

“They are not the ones that will feel the impact of her absence the most.”

“No,” Luke’s face falls, his voice taking a sombre tone, “they’re not.”

Ernest retires to his chair, his fingertips gently grasping onto the hem of its material.

“How are you doing? I-I know that is a daft question, but…”

“I honestly cannot recall the last time that someone asked how I was,” Ernest murmurs, “that is not to say that people have not bothered with me, but rather…at least not verbally.”

Luke smiles sadly; Ernest takes his silence as an opportunity to continue.

“Amelia has never been one for fuss,” he smiles sadly as his mind begins to reminisce, “all of this…” he gestures softly with his hand, “all the doting and constant upheaval…it is the last thing that she would have wanted.”

“We do this because we care about her,” Luke interjects, “Amelia is one of us; she is, for better words, the glue that holds us all together.”

“That would be a beautiful sentiment if my wife was not lying unconscious in her death bed.”

“Ernest…”

He stands once more, his unsteady feet subconsciously carrying him over to the window, paying the drop of his name no mind. He remains stood in silence for a moment, his eyes fixated on the curtains before he speaks softly, his voice quiet and sombre, as if his hopefulness has diminished entirely.

“My wife…she is going to die. I cannot and will not sugar-coat it.”

“There is still hope that-“

“Hope?!” Ernest scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief, “if that is what you truly believe, then maybe you really are just like the rest.”

There is a short hesitation before Luke stands, brushing away the creases in his jacket.

“I will let that comment pass given the circumstance.”

Ernest remains quiet, his gaze set on the horizon as the sun begins to set once more. Knowing that there is nothing else that he can say to lift Ernest’s spirits, Luke collects his satchel from the ground, eyeing the insignia that has been skilfully carved into the leather.

“You may have given up, My Lord…but I have not,” he pauses momentarily, shouldering the bag, “I promised her father that I would watch over her, and that is what I intend to do.”

He makes his way over to the door, but he is stopped in his path by the sudden intrusion of Miss Sutton, her mouth hanging agape in surprise.

“Forgive me for the interruption…”

“Not at all, M’Lady,” Luke bows his head in acknowledgment before looking over at Ernest, his face aglow with disappointment, “I have nothing more to say.”

He leaves the room, closing the door softly behind him. As if sensing that he is still not alone, Ernest turns to Teresa, taking yet another sip of the liquor, “to what do I owe the pleasure, Viscountess?”

“The Doctor would like a word. He believes that Amelia might wake soon.”

“Has anything changed since I saw her last?”

“She is less clammy…and a little bit of colour has returned to her cheeks,” Teresa smiles warmly, “Percival is at her bedside with Harry and Briar.”

“I told Nanny Weskit to take him upstairs to bed.”

“He wanted to see his Mama,” she frowns, her brows furrowing slightly, “is that not a good enough reason for him to stay up past his bedtime?”

“Amelia is not his mother.”

“And you are not his father,” Teresa retorts, “but he treats you as such.”

Ernest falls silent, contemplating her words. She folds her arms across her chest, waiting for a response, but receives none. After a few minutes, she sighs in defeat, looking to the floor as she collects her bearings.

“Look…I understand that you are hurting…” she takes a cautious step forward, “but punishing yourself and taking out your frustrations on others…it is not helping, Ernest.”

He turns at the sound of his name, having not expected its use.

“I cannot begin to fathom what you are going through…but pushing us all away when you need us the most? It is not going to help you. It is not what Amelia would want.”

“I…understand.”

“Then let us in,” she walks over to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm, “allow us to help you. We can watch over Amelia…take care of the children-“

“That is my responsibility.”

“This is not something that you should have to shoulder on your own. We are here to support you.”

He smiles sadly, “I highly doubt that our mother-in-law would agree with that.”

“Henrietta refuses to agree with anything unless it directly benefits her,” she returns his smile, “I know that as much as anyone.”

“I am sorry that you have to endure her temperament so frequently.”

She shakes her head dismissively, “both yourself and Amelia have been subjected to much more than I, believe me.” She beams with pride, interlacing her arm with his own, “and with regards to Henrietta, I must insist that you remember that we are both interlinked. Neither you nor I need to face the brunt of her crassness alone.”

“How is that?”

“We married into this family,” her smile brightens as she looks down at her wedding ring, seemingly becoming lost in a memory, “we may not agree with how our mother-in-law chooses to present herself, but we endure her and everything that she throws our way out of the love and respect we have for her children.”

She exhales softly, giving his arm a comforting squeeze.

“Now, how about you and I join Harry for dinner. I dare not leave him alone with his mother and her meddlesome nature too long.”

“Henrietta is here?”

“Mmmm,” she nods, her lips pressing together in a thin line, “she arrived shortly after the dinner bell was rung.”

“I did not expect her to visit, especially not when Amelia is gravely ill.”

“I am afraid that I do not believe her visit to be for Amelia’s sake but rather her own.”

“She probably wants to witness Amelia herself, seeing as she so desperately clings to the idea that Edgewater rightfully belongs to the Viscount.”

Teresa frowns, casting her gaze downward, “I do wish that you would refrain from discussing Amelia like that, but I…I will not question your grievance.”

“Where is she now?”

“In the dining room, I believe.”

“Then I shall need you to deliver my apologies to the Viscount, for I do not wish to see her face at this given time.” He pauses, “nor will I sit for a meal whilst my beloved is unwell.”

“At least escort me down there,” her words befall that of a plea, “that way you are not left to stew in your own thoughts any longer than you have to be.”

Ernest hesitates, the notion causing him to bristle…but eventually, he nods.

“I…alright.”

The pair begin to walk down the hall towards the dining room, Teresa trying to engage Ernest in gregarious conversation, but as they turn the corner, a frosty voice calls out to them from ahead. Teresa stops almost immediately, her eyes met by an icy blue glare.

“I see that you have taken it upon yourself to entertain your wiles, Miss Sutton.”

“I was simply checking on Mr Sinclaire, Mother,” her last word spoken hastily with a hint of frustration, “it is his family that we are here to see.”

“Keeping company with your sister’s husband alone?” She tuts slightly, “whatever will the servants think?”

“I should hope that they would appreciate my compassion for the Countess’ husband and her children whilst she is ill.”

Henrietta huffs in annoyance, having not expecting Teresa’s witty retort.

“Careful now, Miss Sutton,” she smiles smugly, her words harsh and condescending, “the last thing you want is to be labelled as his dalliance.”

“To even suggest the notion-“

Henrietta chuckles to herself, swiftly changing the target of her bemusement as Ernest stutters, his cheeks reddening with anger.

“Why are you getting so defensive over a baseless accusation?” She feigns surprise, a gasp of shock escaping her lips, “unless…unless there is some truth to it…”

“I have not and will never entertain the company of another woman. I am faithful to my wife!”

“But is she faithful to you, my Lord?”

Ernest inhales sharply, his eyes widening as his anger begins to boil over. After a moment of silence, he calls out to a member of his household as the lady passes him by.

“Forgive me for troubling you, Cecelia, but I am afraid that I am in need of a favour most urgently.”

The young woman bows her head in acknowledgement, “of course, Sir. What is it that you require?”

“Have a note sent to the Marlcaster estate. Tell them that my darling Mother-in-Law requires a carriage to escort her home at the earliest convenience.”

“But that is not-“

He holds up his hand, the gesture seeming to silence her immediately.

“Tell him that his mother has grown tired and wishes to rest in the comfort of her guest bed.”

“That is a LIE!” Henrietta snipes, turning swiftly with a scowl to face the maid, “I am not some old crone that takes naps in the daylight or needs assistance to complete the smallest of tasks. I am the mother of a Viscount! I DEMAND to be treated as such, even by YOU, Mr Sinclaire.” She smirks coyly, “you are forgetting your station, Sir.”

“And you seem to have forgotten whose home you currently reside.”

He regards Cecelia once more, his expression shifting to one of warmth, “I have changed my mind. Please forget everything that I told you to write down.”

“Do you…not request a carriage, My Lord?”

“On the contrary,” he looks down at his wrists as he speaks, reaching to adjust the cuffs of his shirt, “I do still require a carriage, though I am afraid that the wait is too long for my taste.” He lifts his gaze once more, fixing it on Henrietta, “ask Mr Harris if he would be so kind as to escort her ladyship back to her residence instead. Tell him that I shall pay him triple for his service.”

“And the note?”

“Kindly inform Edmund that his mother is no longer welcome at the Edgewater estate, for neither myself nor my staff are able to entertain her inexcusable and downright insulting presence any longer.”

“H-how dare you-“

“I am not finished,” he interjects, retrieving a pouch of coins from his pocket; he passes it over to Cecelia, his eyes still fixed on Henrietta, “this is a gesture of goodwill, see to it that Mr Marlcaster receives it. Maybe he might be able to purchase himself some earplugs to drown out her irritating voice.”

“Would you please just stop with that incessant whining,” he replies coldly, “my wife is on her death bed, and rather than be by her side I am stood here with you. Do you still not see why I am insulted by your mere presence at this hour?”

To Teresa’s surprise, Henrietta quietens. A young stable-hand approaches, tipping his head in acknowledgement.

“My Lord.”

“See to it that the lady finds her way to a carriage and out of my sight.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

Ernest responds with a curt nod; he spares her no second glance, instead turning on his heel and making his way back along the corridor in the opposite direction, disappearing as Henrietta is removed from the house. Teresa follows along after him, her footsteps hurried.

“Sir, you are going the wrong way!”

“My apologies, Miss Sutton.” He continues on, quickening his pace as he heads towards the stairwell, “but I must bid you goodnight.”

“What about escorting me to dinner?”

“I have spent so long dwelling on what may come to pass that I have forgotten to focus on the present,” he regards Teresa over his shoulder, “I am sorry, Miss Sutton. I know that I agreed to accompany you, but my priority must be my wife and child.”

Before she can get a word out, Ernest disappears up the stairs, completely blanking those that he passes on his way. Dejected, Teresa turns back in the direction to which she came, only to bump into Mr Harper.

“Where has he gone now?”

“Upstairs,” she sighs softly, looking at the flowers that decorate the railings, “he has gone to be with her.”

“Without dinner?”

“He will not eat, Mr Harper. He will not eat or drink…I fear that he is unwell.”

“He is concerned for Amelia’s welfare. We all are.”

“And what if he decides to journey down the wrong path? I worry for him.”

“As do I,” Luke smiles sadly, “but he is tending to Amelia. He will not leave her side.”

“He should be resting."

“I agree,” he tips his head, “but it is also a good thing.”

“How? I am afraid that I do not follow."

“If he is with Amelia, then we know where to find him.”

“And if he starts to spiral?”

“Then we will be there to catch him,” Luke’s gaze travels to the landing above, his smile softening as he notes the opening and closing of Amelia’s chamber door, “I made a promise…and I intend to keep it.”

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #choices d&d #desire and decorum #ernest sinclaire #ernest sinclaire x mc

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sillyboards · 6 months

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ernest sinclaire - desire and decorum - choices

#ernest sinclaire #mr. sinclaire #aesthetic board #aesthetic #moodboard #pixelberry #choices stories you play #choices #ernest sinclaire x mc #sinclaire

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sneakybananabox · 10 months

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Well in that case, i have new request for u and thank u for writing previous. Poppy and mc are in a relationship and its poppy's birthday, so mc surprises her by taking her to spend time with her dad Art like in story poppy memtioned in letters that how much she wanted to meet him but cant bcz of piers. Please keep twin out of it like there are no twins. Thanks in advance. You are great.

I had this started but never finished. I had to practically dust off my idea journal to jog my memory. (I am being a little dramatic) I tried to do a quick edit so sorry for any mistakes cuties. Sorry for being awol again.

Happy Birthday

Poppy could feel the migraine beating against her head. Each surge of pain, only made her angrier. All the Zetas in the meeting felt like they were playing catch with a bomb, one wrong move, and everyone was dead.

“For bid day on Friday, we thought the theme could be Wizard of Oz because there is no place like Zeta.” Ohio clicked to her next slide with a picture of the Zeta house with a yellow brick road leading up to the front steps. Listening to all the girls get giddy about the theme only made her migraine worse.

“Everyone, could you shut up! I don’t want to sit through any more presentations so Ohio you are in luck. You, Chloe, Hayley, and Taylor will work on bid day. If you all fuck this up you can pack your bags.” Poppy hit the gavel against the table and got up to go to her room. “Meeting adjourned.”

She pulled out her phone to text Bea to see if she wanted to hang out. Her migraines made her feel clingy. All she wanted was to be cuddled in bed with her girlfriend. Since dating Bea some say she had softened and lost her touch. It wasn’t that she lost her touch, she just wasn’t as angry anymore. Poppy no longer had to hide a huge part of herself anymore. She could finally be free to be herself. Her parents weren’t always on the same page, but it was time to live for herself not them. Even though they weren’t excited about her newfound partner, Bea Hughes, as long as she stayed number one her parents were satisfied. She needed to keep her position as head bitch in charge, no one would dare to take it from her either.

Hughes

Want to come over and keep me company?

I have a headache and need attention.

Sorry BB I have to help Zoey with her

setlist for Lil Nos F. After though I will

swing and give you some world famous

Bea Hughes cuddles.

She threw her phone onto her bed. Her migraine needed to be gone and fast. It seemed like the perfect time to hit up her favorite tea place to help with her migraine. She changed into some more casual clothes and pulled out her jewelry box. She grabbed her favorite necklace Bea got her around the time they started dating. She admired the pink poppy in the middle with the black center. She looked at the bottom of the jewelry box and contemplated for a moment. After putting on the necklace she went over to her door to make sure it was locked and sat on her bed. She pulled up the false bottom of the box. Pulling out a stack of letters she went through the letters she never sent to Art Nakamara.

It had only been four months since she found out the truth about her family. She was home for the weekend for some business event she didn’t care about.

Piers was trying to impress a mogul from another company and he needed his token family to parade around to make himself seem perfect. Poppy had on one of her favorite pink dresses that was customized just for her. She was forced to talk to the mogul’s son Harrison.

“We were out on the lake for like a month. It was a great time, it would have been better if you were there in a bikini.” Harrison moved closer to Poppy to put his arm around her. He smelled like strong leather and tobacco.

“I’m allergic to water, sorry.” Poppy got from under his arm, eyes stinging from the cologne. She practically sprinted to the bar, she needed a shot of anything right away. “Hit me with a shot of anything.” The bartender slid her a glass with clear liquid and before he had time to turn Poppy downed it. It was smooth, but burned like hell going down, just what she needed. She turned and was met with her mother.

“Poppy, what are you doing at the bar alone? Where is Harrison? He seems like such a nice single boy. Cute too.”

“He had to go to the restroom. I am sure he has women practically lining up to date him mother. I am however off market. I told him I would meet him at the bar” Poppy wasn’t sure if her mom believed her lie, but she couldn’t really care. Her parents were acting strange, which says a lot because her parents weren’t exactly like most. They haven’t been in contact as often. Weekly phone calls have turned monthly. They haven’t had the easiest time accepting Bea, but she couldn’t continue to live for them she needed to live for herself. Poppy was going to need six more shots to just get through the night.

“Just make sure you are a good hostess to him. We need to make sure the Vanderwald’s leave happy.”

“Yes mother I know. I will make sure he leaves…. Content of course.” Her mother must be out of her mind if she thought she would spend anymore time with that boring ass boy.

The miscellaneous shots she took were finally kicking in. She pulled out her phone and looked through Instagram. She saw a picture of Bea back at Belvoire. It looked like her and Zoey were in their dorm. Poppy couldn't help but admire her girlfriend. She hated that she had to miss their night to schmooze these boring people. The alcohol she drank gave her a great idea though. She sent a text to Bea and hoped her plan would work.

About an hour later Poppy met Bea and Zoey at the door relieved she had back up now.

“What took you so long?” Poppy was running out of excuses to dodge Harrison all night. Bea enveloped Poppy into a hug.

“We had to get ready. If I am going to be around the Min-Sinclairs I need to look my best.”

“She changed her outfit like four times while freaking out.” Zoey was tired of watching Bea change her outfits back at the door.

Bea playfully pushed Zoey, “She is lying. It was traffic too.”

“I am just glad you are here to save me from the annoying Harrison Vanderwald.”

“Oh Yea, the guy that got kicked out of Belvoire for trying to bribe his professors.” Bea had a class with him and remembers him being such a dick.

The night went on with less bumps than the beginning. Harrison found someone else to leech off of in the night. People were finally leaving from the Min-Sinclairs and Poppy could finally take a breath.

“Thanks for the invite Pops.” Bea enveloped Poppy in her arms.

“Alright you two I will be waiting out in the car. Thanks Min-Sinclair. Bea don’t take forever or I am leaving you.”

“Yea Yea Zoey. I will be out in a second.” Bea goofily grinned, holding Poppy,excited to be alone with Poppy for the first time tonight.

“I missed you Popcorn.” Bea kissed her girlfriend.

“It’s definitely the alcohol making me soft but I missed you too.” They just held each other for a moment until they heard the sound of a stomach grumble. “Hughes have you eaten anything all day?”

“Well we were going to go to get pizza, but I got excited by your message.”

“Bea Hughes choosing me over pizza. You really do care about me.”

“I absolutely do Pops.” Bea places a soft kiss on Poppy’s forehead. Her stomach grumbles even louder this time.

“Alright let’s get you a snack”

Poppy pulled out one of Bea’s favorite snacks. She had secretly been requesting this snack because eating it always reminds her of Bea. She would rather shave herself bald then tell Bea this.

“Ooh my favorite thanks Poppy.” Bea kissed Poppy’s forehead before indulging in her snack. Poppy’s heart explodes everytime her girlfriend lightens up.

After an angry text from Zoey wondering what was taking so long, Poppy and Bea started walking to the closest exit. They heard a whispered argument taking place.

“Ana if this gets out I will be a laughing stock. How could you be so fucking careless. The stock would plumet and then what of the fancy life I have given you.”

“I know, I am sorry. No one knows of this. Not even Poppy. As far as she knows you are her father.”

“Yea no one except me, you and any decent private investigator. I will take care of this like always.”

Poppy and Bea ran to the walk in pantry to avoid Piers from catching them on their accidental eavesdrop. Poppy felt like the air was sucked out of her lungs. She collapsed into Bea’s arm and quietly sobbed. Piers was not her father and her mother kept her from her bio father.

Poppy was lucky to find one private investigator not under Piers thumb. She was given Arts name and found out all she could about him. He was a well loved preschool teacher. He would supportive of his students and even as adults they would come visit him to catch up. Everyone saw his like another parent in their life. She felt robbed for missing our of know her real dad and stuck with Piers. Piers was controlling and not at all affectionate which as a kid made her question her self worth. Bea slowly helped her through her feelings and downfalls. She wishes her girlfriend wasn’t so busy because she could really use her cuddles right about now.

Bea felt bad about lying to her girlfriend but she was trying to desperately figure out what to give someone who has everything for their birthday. She has gone through a thousand ideas all of which she felt were not good/expensive enough for the girl who swiftly stole her heart. She barged into Zoey’s room and threw herself onto her bed.

“Bea what if I were naked. Knock at least next time!” Zoey lectured without even looking up from her laptop.

“I would have closed my eyes. I need some help from that beautiful mind of yours.”

“You are lucky flattery will get your everywhere with me. What’s the problem roomie?”

“I don’t know what to get Poppy for her birthday. I have brainstormed for weeks and came up with diddly squat.”

“ That’s like picking a gift for Satan themself. Ow watch the laptop” Zoey rubbed her the back of her head that was assaulted with her fluffy pillow.

“Don’t be dramatic that was practically a cloud. Now please help me with this dilemma so I don’t end up sad and single.”

“First of all you are being dramatic and second of alll nothing wrong with because single. Most people will agree you have melted Poppy’s ice princess facade. Even if she doesn’t admit it she loves your ‘from the heart sappy shit you do’. Just think with that big heart of …” Before Zoey could finish her sentence Bea jumped off her bed and ran out.

Poppy held Bea’s hand while she drove. She paid attention to the hum of her car and the warmth of her hand. Her hands felt empty without her phone, but Bea insisted on her leaving her phone at the Zeta house. She didn’t need much convincing wearing a blindfold for a surprise. She wasn’t going to show it, but she was just happy to be in Bea’s presence. It was like feeling a calm wash over her mind. She vented about her day and how annoying the Zetas were during the presentations. They drove what felt like hours away from the University.

“Okay Pops I need you to do me a favor. Stay here while I go get something. No peaking or else I will withhold kisses for the next week.”

“Are you even allowed to be so cruel on my birthday?” Bea kissed Poppy quickly before running into the mysterious location. Pops just listened but none of the sounds were out of the ordinary. After about 5 minutes Bea came to Poppy’s door and opened. She helped her out of the car and handed she her favorite tea.

“Don’t tell me we drove all this way for you to poison me.” She took a sip and recongized it being one of her favorite drinks Matcha. “Hughes I know you did not make us drive all this way for something we could go about 5 minutes from campus to get.”

“Poppy if I wanted to poison you I wouldn’t have done it in somewhere so public. But no it’s not just for the tea we had to come here for you birthday gift. Take of your blindfold.” Poppy took off her blindfold and felt like she recognized where she was. She looked around and noticed a man walking towards them. He was a bit shorter than she was and he was smiling. She recongized him from the pictures the P.I. sent her as well as when she googled Art Nakamura , her bio dad.

“Hello, Poppy” The man beamed at her. “Happy Birthday” He held out a bouquet of flowers. Poppy hesitantly took the flowers.

“Hello Mr. Nakamura.”

“Please feel free to call me Art.”

“ Thank you for the flowers Mr. Nakam– Art. Could you give Bea and I a moment?”

“No worries I will get us a table in the cafe.” Art walked into the cafe and Poppy turned to her girlfriend.

“What the fuck were thinking, Hughes?” Poppy shouted not worrying about the looks from passerbys. “How did you know about him? Do you know what could happen if Piers finds out about this? I could loose everything! Do you not fucking think!?”

“I was just trying to get you a good birthday gift and you have everything and I thought maybe it would be nice to meet him and get answers for questions you wanted. One of the nights I stayed over the letters were out and I accidentally read one of them. I didn’t say anything ,but the emotion just pour out of them and it seemed like you really wanted to meet him.”

“Those were private! Bea I can’t do this with you. Please just leave. I will find another way to get back to campus.”

“But Poppy you don’t have your phone.”

“I don’t care. Just go.” Poppy shouted at Bea. Her chest felt heavy because she felt bad for yelling but she was just so angry. Anything else Bea had to say died in her throat. She walked back to her car and got in to leave. Poppy walked inside and found Art enjoying a mug of green liquid. She could smell the matcha.

“I am sorry for intruding, Poppy.”

“No, Art it’s no worries. It was just an unexpected surprise.”

They talked for awhile and Poppy’s stiff posture softened as she learned more about Art. He loved matcha just as much as she did. He talked about his time in college and how he always wanted to be a teacher. He showed her a picture of when he took his class to the museum and helped pay for the kids who couldn’t afford it.

“I know it’s none of my business and my apologies in advance if I am over stepping. You shouldn’t be so hard on your girlfriend Bea.”

“She told you about our relationship?”

“No she didn’t need to. I know the look of love anywhere. We have all been bitten by the love bug once or twice.”

“ You don’t care that I am dating a girl.”

“Of course not. We can’t help who we love.” Poppy did her best to keep her tears from escaping.

“I appreciate you saying that Art. I just couldn’t imagine the wrath if Piers found out.”

“Bea said the same thing when planning this. She didn’t even let me bring my phone. I didn’t even park around here she made me park farther away and walk. I thought she was joking at first. She had me turn right 8 times to make sure I wasn’t being tailed.”

“I don’t have my phone either. She really went above and beyond.” She whispered the last part. Suddenly she felt like the worst girlfriend on this planet. She looked at where Bea had parked and saw an empty space.

Bea found a quiet restaurant to sulk. She barely touched her fries when her phone started to buzz. It was a number she didn’t recongize, but there was no scam likely under it so she answered.

“Hello?”

“I’m so sorry for blowing up at you.” Poppy muttered. “I just was so sacred and had so many emotions running about I didn’t know how to react.”

“It’s okay Poptart. I should have ran this by you and not read the letter.”

“Will you come back? I want you to meet my dad.”

“Absolutely, I will be right over.” Bea only went over 1 block, she didn’t want to leave Poppy stranded. After parking she walked into the cafe and saw Poppy laughing with Art. She was actually belly laughing. Bea’s heart felt so full to see her girlfriend enjoying her time with her father. She walked over and Poppy pulled her into a hug. She always felt light when her and Poppy embraced. Like nothing in the world could hurt them as long as they were together.

“Art I know you two have corresponded ,but I would like to officially introduce Bea my girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you in person Bea. Thank you for today.” Bea shook Art’s hand and they sat and talked.

Art was telling them a story from his time in college and Bea was giggling at the story. Poppy imagined what life would have been like if Art was always her dad and raised her. She imagines with someone so warm as a father she would have turned out different. They stayed until close and parted ways after exchanging numbers on napkins.

On the way back to campus Poppy grabbed her girlfriends hands and planted a soft kiss on the back of Bea’s hand.

“Thank you for an amazing day.”

“Always. Happy Birthday Pops.”

Master List

#thanks anon!#anon reply #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #queen b choices #queen b playchoices

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