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titfairy · 2 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 x mc #poppy min sinclair #oh this is wonderful #Im such a big fan of your writing honestly #shame on me for not seeing this much sooner #but the idea of Bea and Poppy getting to their own version of friendship and relationship POST Belvoire is just so easy to me tbh #fanfic

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titfairy · 2 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.

#poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #yes exactly this #dont get me wrong the ending still could've been better because it was played like a joke #when their dynamic speaks for itself honestly #I always think that the whole mess at Belvoire would be their one hell of backstory for their relationship #I always think that post Belvoire Bea and Poppy would oh so easily be drawn to each other again and again #and if you get rid of the stupid popularity contest rivalry bullshit between them all you have is just them #I always think they could easily be 'friends' or at the very least their version of friends tbh #because no one gets them like each other #Bea Hughes would gladly join Poppy in hell because that's just them

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titfairy · 6 months

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in the time loop the only way out is to leave her there but you don't ever leave her there, never in the roughly one thousand years you have been in the same day. it is probably like "50 first dates" but you haven't stooped so low as to watch "50 first dates" yet. (but who is to say what another thousand years of the same media will bring to you, maybe you will develop a new taste).

you spent about 200 of these years sulking in a bathtub or on the couch or staring at the seaside. 300 of them have been spent slowly mapping the geographical distance you can actually get before the time loop restarts. you have a list of favorite places: one library in Western Massachusetts called "The Bookmill", which has weird hours and has never raised an eyebrow to you arriving out-of-breath and panting, asking to see a specific book on a specific shelf. There is one beach without a name in North Carolina; it is an accident of geography and ownership title disputes - and it is pristine, untouched, warm and cozy. you've taken her on a lot of picnics there. Acadia National Park. One specific birdhouse in the mountains.

you were stuck in the time loop with the money you entered it with: not enough to rent a private jet. you've robbed a bank a few times, you don't like the way it ends. maybe next century you'll get the hang of it. you don't like the look on her face when you say hang on i have to stop at the bank.

you just have to leave her, and you can go back to being a person again. you took 5 years just catching a flight and sitting in the Grand Canyon. if there's one thing you regret more than anything, it's that you hadn't gotten your passport renewed before this fucking time loop. maybe you should spend some time learning forgery - but also, like, you look like an english teacher. nobody is going to be cool about you asking to see their paper printing machines.

the world is very big. that is one of the things groundhog day gets wrong. there are no consequences, so you have literally all the time (or none of the time?) in the world. in groundhog day, he does a lot of very cool things, but in reality - your muscle memory never gets better. you can't necessarily learn how to play piano or sculpt ice, because your hands never remember the practice. but hey - maybe you'll try violin next. drums. synth.

you can open any door and walk into any conversation. money isn't really an object. you can try every meal off every menu, forever. take her on helicopter tours and into every museum and on every event that is happening right-now at-this-moment. parades and funerals and calligraphy classes.

but you are somewhat trapped by the limitations of your body. if you were reading a book, you still need to get up and go back to the library and find that book again when the day resets. (thank god for the internet). it still takes like 2 hours to board a plane, and then takeoff and landing and traffic. you've gotten off to run around on the freeway. one of the little thankful things: since your brain isn't actually developing (it's a muscle too), the days thankfully don't feel shorter to you. that would be agony.

all you have to do to leave the timeloop is let that man get away with it. that's all. in every version of yourself - forever - you have stopped him.

the problem is that this experience has convinced you of the existence of the human soul. after all, how else are you forming memories? your very cells reset. information has to be transferred somehow. and if timeloops are real, you can convince yourself other magic exists. so you have two choices here: this hell, or the next. there might be a millennia where you have been worn down to the point you can accept fate's decision. this is just not one of them. ironically - she is the one thing you have left.

and besides! if you can't always find something new in your partner, aren't you failing them? there is something new about her, every day with the same morning. every brutal day with the same orange sunset.

after all, you wanted to live with her in heaven, in eternity, and, well - isn't this second-best.

#words

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