I've been enjoying s8 of litg. It's the first season in a long time that's got me excited for new episodes. A lot of it is thanks to Claudia who is a top tier love interest! So I drew a little something of her. ❤️
Tags: post-canon, fluff, possible roadtrip AU, ooc.
In the aftermath, Poppy has a lot of thinking to do. She never expected it to involve greasy cheeseburgers and car rides, but then again, nothing ever goes according to plan for her.
"What the fuck was that?!" she yells at Bee the moment they’re alone after that disastrous graduation ceremony. The other girl looks at her with a surprised expression on her face.
It’s the first time Poppy has seen Bee show any kind of nervousness in front of her, and if the circumstances were any different, maybe she would take this opportunity to crush her once and for all. Right now, though, she doesn’t care about any of that. She just wants to know why.
"Listen, Poppy, I–"
"No!" she explodes. "You listen to me, Bee. I am so, so tired of you constantly trying to ruin my life! Wasn’t this entire year enough for you? Did you have to ruin my graduation too?!"
"I wasn’t trying to ruin anything! If you would just listen for five seconds–" Bee tries to plead with her, but it’s pointless. Poppy doesn’t care about her excuses.
Because that’s probably what they are. Excuses, lies and schemes. That’s all that Bee ever does… right? Right? Right.
"I said I don’t want to listen to you!!"
There’s a sea of rage and hurt directed towards the girl in front of her bubbling just under the surface of her thoughts, held barely at bay by the fact that she doesn’t want to have yet another meltdown in front of her.
They’re still in public. Anyone could hear her — or even worse, see her. She’s not risking it, not again. So, instead, she just grabs Bee’s arm with more pressure than she’d normally use and brings her face dangerously close towards hers.
Her mouth is moving before she can quite realize what she’s saying. “My whole family is fucking ruined and you just humiliated me in front of them,” she says harshly.
It’s a guilt-trip if she’s ever made one, and though it’s certainly not strictly Bee’s fault things are this bad, she knows Bee will feel responsible, because that’s just the kind of person she is. She knows it will hurt her.
Bee says nothing for a long moment, a stricken look on her face.
"I’m sorry," she finally replies.
All she has to say is a simple it’s not your fault to absolve Bee of her guilt. But she can’t do it. Part of her is holding onto the hurt like a dog with a bone, clutching it close in her teeth and refusing to let go. Why should she care how Bee feels, anyway?
Typical. It makes her feel a little gratified, even though she knows she shouldn’t. What a bitch move, Poppy.
Faced with a sullen wall of silence, Bee breaks easily. For a moment she opens her mouth as if to say something more. But the moment passes, and so Poppy turns, furiously, and leaves. She doesn’t bother looking back — probably because she knows she couldn’t handle looking at the expression on Bee’s face. As she makes her way back to her room, Poppy’s left with a profound sense of hollowness and no idea how to fix it.
------------------
Poppy closes her bedroom door so hard the glass on the windows shudder. She’s furious, frustrated, and above all fucking fried, and as soon as she rips the cord of the privacy blinds to close herself off from the rest of the world, she sinks into her floor and closes her eyes.
She feels a sudden swell of emotion, of feelings she’s kept locked down for years finally crashing into her like a wave all at once. None of this had to happen. And yet, it almost seems like it was inevitable. It feels as if every single thing Poppy has done since she was a child was to lead to the events of the last few months. Fateful steps on the path to her horrible destiny. Dominoes, falling into place. She feels hot tears beginning to form in her eyes, and there’s nothing she can do to stop them from falling.
It’s been a series of difficult weeks, one after another. Dealing with the aftermath of that disastrous night at the Apoidea ball only brought a succession of entirely new setbacks. The cherry on top of it all is the text conversation she’d endured with her father right after confronting Bee — a man of few emotions, namely disappointment and anger at her for “sullying [his] good reputation” — just a few minutes earlier. She can only be grateful he didn’t call, because the last thing she wants to do is give him the satisfaction of hearing her finally break.
What she really wants is to pack all her things, move to an entirely new place and never see anyone again.
Especially not Bee Hughes.
It’s her fault that things are the way they are. She ruined everything. And that little stunt she pulled at the graduation ceremony – what the hell was that? Was she just trying to humiliate her one last time in front of literally everyone she knows?
What the hell was Bee thinking, grabbing her and kissing her like that?
The more she thinks about it, the more Poppy feels like punching someone. That girl has been the bane of her existence for two years. She’s done nothing but antagonize her, steal her friends (and sleep with them!) and ruin her every chance at success. It makes Poppy’s blood boil.
She hates her. She really, really does.
So why can’t she stop thinking about what Bee said? ‘It’s always been you'. How fucking ridiculous. When she heard those words, she wanted to die. Or maybe kill Bee instead. Yeah, she definitely wanted to kill her.
Never in her entire life she’s felt more insulted, more humiliated, more relieved…
Wait. Relieved? Why did she feel relieved?! That doesn’t make any sense—
"Ugh" she groans, raking a hand through her hair.
She feels more tears slip free as she stands up and goes to sit in front of her vanity. Her cheeks and nose are red, and her mascara is a mess. She is a mess. She can’t even begin to figure out her own emotions, for fuck’s sake!
It’s all Bee’s fault. It’s always her fault.
Poppy hates her. She hates her so much, she’s made sure that Bee knows it as well. So why–
No. She’s not doing this again. She’s not entertaining any of this. Poppy refuses to even give Bee the privilege of thinking about her, so she decides she’ll do what she does best: push her thoughts to the back of her brain and pretend everything is under control.
Of course, it doesn’t work. She thinks that the universe must truly hate her. It must be, there’s no other possible explanation.
Because not even ten minutes later, there’s a knock on her door.
------------------
“What the hell are you doing here?!" she screams at Bee when she lets herself into her room. How on brand for her, not even bothering to wait until Poppy lets her in. "I thought I made it clear that I don’t want to see you anymore."
Bee winces a little. If Poppy weren’t so upset, she’d probably smirk at that. "I know, I know. I’m sorry. I just wanted to talk."
"Are you a fucking masochist or something?" Poppy looks at her incredulously. "Do you like it when I yell at you?"
"Well, I think you already know the answer to that question," she laughs. It makes Poppy’s blood boil. She grabs a pillow and throws it at Bee with all the strength she can muster. "Hey! That wasn’t nice!"
"Did you only come here to make fun of me? Because I have other things to do, Farmsville. And I really don’t feel like dealing with you anymore than I already have," she grunts.
"I really doubt you have any other plans—"
"Hughes!" Poppy interrupts her, threatening her with another pillow. Bee lifts her hands in surrender.
"Alright, alright! Don’t hit me!" she sighs, approaching Poppy with timid steps. She stops a little short before reaching her vanity. "I wanted to talk about what happened during my speech."
"Oh, now you want to talk about it? How fucking generous of you!"
"I’m sorry! I thought— I thought it would be a nice gesture!"
Poppy looks at her as if Bee’s just grown a second head.
"What?" she laughs dryly. "You thought it would be a ‘nice’ gesture? You must be even more stupid than I thought."
Bee shrugs uncomfortably. It only upsets her more.
"I dunno," she whispers as if she’s some idiotic brainless moron. Poppy decides that maybe she is.
"What did you think would happen?” Poppy pinches the bridge of her nose, exhausted. "Did you think I’d run into your arms and we would ride off into the sunset together?! Did you think I’d introduce you to my parents as my what, Bee? My girlfriend?"
Uh oh. Word vomit. It’s too late to stop it, though. So she keeps ranting, she goes on and on. Bee just looks at her, slightly amused. Poppy is too angry to notice, but if she did, she’d definitely wipe that smile off Bee’s face.
"Did you think I’d be like 'hi mom and dad! Remember Bee? The girl who stole literally everything from me? Well… we’re dating now! Her graduation speech was just so moving that I decided to forget everything she’s done to me in the last two years!" she’s full on screaming now. She probably sounds like an angry chihuahua, but she couldn’t care less at this point. "Is that what you thought was going to happen? You’re fucking deluded."
There’s a beat of silence between them before Bee finally speaks.
"No, I mean… I thought we would wait at least a few months before the whole process of formally meeting the in-laws and all. I did think that maybe we could adopt two cats or something," Poppy throws another pillow with full force and it lands right into Bee’s face. "Hey!! Fine, fine! Just one cat, then! But.. now that you mention it, riding off into the sunset together doesn’t sound too bad. We should probably find a horse first, though."
Is she… joking, right now? Seriously?!
This girl. She wants to kill her with her bare hands. It takes everything in her not to grab her by her hair and drag her out the door. Maybe she should get a meditation app installed on her phone before she ends up going to prison for first degree murder.
"I cant believe you!! Did you think it was funny?! You humiliated me for no reason, then?!”
“No!!” Bee shouts and sits down next to her on the bed. "I meant it! I meant everything I said back then!"
Poppy grabs her by the collar and brings their faces dangerously close. Their noses are almost touching. Poppy’s cheeks are even redder. It’s probably the anger… right?
“Then what was your fucking plan?!”
“I-I don’t know! I thought that maybe…”
“Maybe what?!”
There’s a hint of sadness on Bee’s face when she notices Poppy’s tear stained cheeks. She tries to bring her hand to Poppy’s face to wipe away the tears, but Poppy swats it away.
"Maybe what, Farmsville?" she repeats the question, her voice dangerously low.
Bee flinches slightly. "Maybe we could start by having dinner together!!"
"Are you insane?!"
"Do you have any other plans?" Bee retorts. Poppy hates how right Bee is – she doesn’t have anything else to do. But she’ll drop dead before admitting that out loud to her of all people.
Bee must be out of her mind if she thinks that Poppy is ever going to agree to go on a fucking date with her. Is she insane? She must be, if she thought that showing up uninvited to her room would work. It’s not like Poppy is actually considering going out with her— no. She wouldn’t do that. She won’t do that.
"Out. I want you out of my room, right fucking now."
"What?" Bee seems genuinely shocked at her words.
"Oh, you heard me, cornhusker. Get out of my sight before I murder you," and, to emphasize her words, she lifts one perfectly manicured finger and points at the door.
Bee sighs dejectedly but tries to mask it off with a playful smile. "Fine, I’ll text you later?"
"No. In fact, delete my contact. I don’t want to see you ever again."
Poppy thinks that the heartbroken expression Bee is making right now is the most infuriating thing in the entire world. How can she still have the nerve to pretend to care about her?! How long is she going to keep this stupid façade up?!
Either way, her sad expression quickly melts into a mischievous grin. Poppy might hate her even more now.
"You say that now, Poptart, but we both know you can’t stay away from me," Bee laughs, ducking just in time to avoid getting whacked by another pillow. "Alright! Enough with the violence, will you?"
"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"
------------------
When Bee closes the door behind her —that infuriating smile still plastered on her face—, Poppy lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Well, that’s over with, it seems.
Now, finally, it’s just her and her thoughts.
One thing about graduating, Poppy decides, is that it gives you a lot of free time to think. For the first time in two years (or more, if she’s being completely honest), she has enough time to reflect on her past choices. She doesn’t have to worry about unmasking X or getting accepted into Apoidea or beating Bee anymore. She can finally lay down, close her eyes and think. She’s not sure if it’s a good thing or not, because thinking usually leads to realization and realization can be messy and complicated and hard.
Either way, she can’t stop thinking. Hours after the graduation ceremony has ended, Poppy finds herself laying on her bed and staring at the ceiling. The last two years keep replaying in her mind, as if they had become a twisted cinematic rendition of her own failures.
And as fucked up as that is, it helps her notice some things. She notices that maybe she doesn’t have a right to be angry. At least not with Chloe and Veronica. Maybe even Carter as well. Maybe, it’s them who deserves an apology from her. She knows she should let it all go. Let the pain and the anger go. It’s something she’s been thinking about at night ever since she lost to Bee at the Apoidea ball, and she’s surprised to find how much more… at peace it makes her feel.
As for Bee, well. She can’t seem to stay mad at her for too long, somehow. She’s almost, almost impressed that she and Zoey even pulled all of this off. But then again, Poppy’s always figured that Bee has a fire in her, underneath that bright, dorky demeanour. Ever since she first laid eyes on her.
It’s conflicting, really. A part of her is so hung up on blaming her for everything that happened. She wants to stay mad at her. She wants to want to hate her.
But… she also wonders if she was being serious about what she said. She kind of regrets kicking her out, but… being with Bee is so exhausting! Poppy doesn’t know if she wants to murder her or laugh along with her jokes every time she speaks.
Stupid Bee. Who the hell does she think she is, anyways? Just thinking about her stupid smug smile as she left her room is enough to piss her off all over again. Stupid, stupid Bee.
"She’s the most insufferable person I’ve ever met," she grunts as she picks up her phone and dials Bee’s number.
Fuck. She is so, so fucked.
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"Hello? Who is this?" she can hear Bee’s stupid voice on the other end of the line.
Poppy rolls her eyes. "Don’t act like you don’t have my number saved."
"I thought you wanted me to like, remove you entirely from my life and all. Starting with deleting your number."
"Shut up. Where did you want to go?"
"Huh?"
Poppy groans. How dense can this girl be?
"To get dinner, you absolute half-wit."
"Poppy Min-Sinclair, are you saying that you’ll go on a date with me? Paint me shocked!"
Poppy almost wants to laugh. Almost.
"Don’t make me regret my decision before this dumb date even starts."
"You’re making me the happiest woman in the world! I knew you’d come around."
"You’re insufferable."
"I’ve been told it’s what makes me so charming," she chuckles. "Pick you up in 20?"
"Be one minute late and I’ll murder you personally."
"I love it when you talk sweet murder to me."
------------------
True to her word, Bee shows up at her room (again) exactly twenty minutes later. Poppy notices that her curly brown hair is wet, and the red on her cheeks tells her that she literally ran all the way to the Zeta house. Her heart beats a little faster at the thought of Bee rushing to get there in time.
"Would it have killed you to wear something decent?" Poppy groans, taking in the rest of Bee’s appearance. She’s wearing a plain green hoodie, jeans and sneakers. Distasteful as usual.
"Aw, Pop, did you want me to dress up for you?" she smiles and Poppy rolls her eyes, stepping aside so Bee can walk into the room. "Sorry about that, can’t really run in heels, y’know? I was threatened with murder if I didn’t make it in time."
"Where did you even want to go?" Poppy asks, ignoring Bee’s remarks. "You better take me somewhere good or this won’t be happen again."
"I think I’ve heard you say that befo—" one murderous look from Poppy is enough to shut her up. Bee smiles and opens her mouth again. "Don’t worry, Poppy. I’m sure you’ll be lovin’ it in no time."
Poppy squints her eyes, a little suspicious. After a few seconds, she sighs and says: "Fine. Let’s go."
Bee opens the door for her with an irritatingly goofy smile on her face. "After you. You look really pretty, by the way."
"I know," Poppy replies. She makes a point of turning her head to the side so Bee won’t notice her blushing.
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Bee’s car is neater than she had expected it to be. Her music taste, however, is not. Poppy can tell that the girl is nervous, especially by the way she turns up her music to drawn out the awkwardness. For all the bravery she displayed earlier in the day, she seems on edge right now, as if she hadn’t planned this far ahead. Poppy notices that Bee’s voice is slightly trembling when she clears her throat to speak.
"So, what kind of music do you like?" she tries to ask casually, but her voice comes out slightly more high pitched than usual.
"Hm? Why do you care?"
"This is supposed to be a date, isn’t it?" Bee laughs. "I thought the whole purpose of going on a date is getting to know each other."
"So you know me well enough to expose my private conversations to the T but not to know my music taste," Poppy says sharply. The dejected look on Bee’s face makes her regret it immediately.
"Come on, I don’t want to fight today. Not right now," she whispers.
Poppy sighs (for what feels like the tenth time this day) and presses her forehead against the window glass.
"I like pop songs," she says, not looking at anything in particular. "I started listening to K-pop a while ago and I like it."
“Oh! Zoey made me listen to a few songs sometime ago. I really liked it too!" she smiles, looking genuinely happy. Poppy hates the warm feeling that’s spreading across her chest.
"Are you really not going to tell me where we’re going?" she asks her.
Bee shakes her head, clearly amused.
From her place at the passenger seat, Poppy has a really good view of Bee’s features. It’s the first time that she truly pays attention to her, taking advantage of the fact that Bee’s eyes are glued to the road and she can’t really notice her staring.
Curly brown hair frames a soft looking face. Her long eyelashes make her eyes look bright and shiny, and her golden earrings complement her brown skin tone. Beautiful, Poppy thinks. Bee is beautiful. She lets herself admit it for the first time since she’s met her.
"Is there something on my face?" Bee asks her, smiling.
"Just thinking about how much I hate it," she lies. Bee doesn’t say anything, and they slip into a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride.
It’s only when Poppy notices the backlit McDermots’ drive-through menu that she breaks the silence.
"Fast food? Really?" she says, fighting off the urge to roll her eyes again. "Why did I think that you’d actually pick somewhere nice?”
"Hush. This isn’t our final destination, Satan," the nickname earns her a light punch on the shoulder. "Ow! Come on, just tell me your order and quit complaining."
Bee and her order, and soon they’ve got a takeout bag full of cheeseburgers, fries and chicken nuggets resting on Poppy’s lap.
"Where are we going now?" she asks, trying to sound uninterested. Apparently it doesn’t work, because Bee gives her one of her shy smiles that make Poppy’s heart beat faster.
"I know just the place to enjoy this."
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After a short drive, they’re parked at the top of a hill overlooking the city. Poppy checks her phone. It’s almost midnight, but the city is still aglitter in lights.
Having been raised in New York, sometimes it’s easier for her to forget how beautiful the city truly is. She wonders what it must look like to Bee. Does she like it here? Would she rather go back to Farmsville?
"So this isn’t entirely awful, Hughes. I have to say, I’m impressed."
"It’s a good view, isn’t it?" she asks dreamily. "I don’t come here often, but I always love it whenever I do."
Bee reaches for the takeout bag and takes two cheeseburgers, handing one to Poppy. The two of them quietly dig in, enjoying the taste of greasy food and large sodas.
"I haven’t had a cheeseburger in so long," Poppy admits. She doesn’t know why she says it, but the look Bee gives her urges her to continue talking. "I missed how good they taste."
"They’re great, aren’t they?" Bee laughs, plopping a handful of fries into her mouth. "There used to be this small restaurant near my house. They made the best cheeseburgers ever, I swear. My friends and I used to flirt with the cute cashier to get free food. So, so good."
Poppy laughs despite herself. "How on brand for you, getting handouts."
There’s no true vitriol in her words, and that surprises her. Eating with Bee, looking at the city… it almost makes her feel comfortable. It scares her how quickly she could get used to it.
They fall silent once again, gazing out at the stars while the radio plays softly from the car speakers.
"So," it’s actually Poppy who breaks the silence. She keeps surprising herself tonight. "What are you going to do now?"
"You mean, now that we’ve graduated?" Bee asks. Poppy nods wordlessly. "I don’t know. I think I might go visit my sisters. I was thinking I could drive all the way there."
"Isn’t it a pretty long drive?"
"Yeah, but I’ve always loved a good roadtrip," Bee shrugs.
"Huh," she doesn’t say anything besides that.
"What about you?" Bee asks her, and for the first time in this conversation she’s looking at her. Really looking at her. And it makes Poppy feel something she doesn’t quite understand.
She considers ignoring the question, but something about the way Bee’s eyes are fixed on her compels her to say the truth.
"I guess I should probably start looking for a job."
"Things are that bad, huh?" she asks with genuine concern in her voice.
"No, it’s just—" she sighs, not knowing if she should keep talking. Bee looks at her patiently, and Poppy opens her mouth again. "I decided I want to try making my own money. I don’t want to depend on Piers anymore."
Bee smiles reassuringly when she looks away, embarrassed. Its a rare display of vulnerability, and it makes her feel uncomfortable. She’s not used to opening up to anyone.
"Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Are you going to start job hunting right away?" Bee asks, handing her some chicken nuggets.
"I think so. I don’t know if I’ll be able to land any good jobs without using his connections, but…" she trails off.
"We all gotta start somewhere, right?" Bee smiles. It’s contagious, and Poppy finds herself smiling too. She hides it by placing her hand on her face, but she thinks Bee must’ve seen it anyways.
It surprises to realize that she doesn’t care if she did.
"…Right."
"So how do you see yourself applying for a job at McDermots? Maybe you could get me free cheeseburgers," Bee jokes.
"Shut up, Hughes. Even if I got a job at McDermots, I wouldn’t give you anything for free."
Bee laughs breezily. "You’re so easy to irritate."
"Please. You know it gets a lot more than just that to irritate me."
"Trust me, I do."
There’s an air of familiarity here that there wasn’t before. Bee has a crooked grin on her face and her tone is light, teasing but not malicious.
"Maybe I could try flirting with the drive-through employee and get us free food next time."
The implication about who exactly she means by us is pretty clear. And Poppy, too, is awed that she has opened up to Bee about her family struggles like this. Poppy, who is loath to let anyone know she’s hurting until she’s way past the breaking point, who just grits her teeth and pushes through no matter what. Poppy, who once would’ve laughed in your face if you told her she’d be eating greasy fast food with Bee one day.
"Mm. Maybe," she whispers. Bee smiles shyly.
"So. What was Poppy Min-Sinclair as a child?" she asks with genuine curiosity.
"Are we doing the whole childhood backstory thing now?" Poppy raises an eyebrow.
"Boo! Don’t ruin it! It’s going so well!" she pouts.
"Ugh, fine. I’ll tell you."
Conversation flows easily between the two of them, and the minutes slide into hours. They tell each other about their childhoods, their families, their friends. Bee tells her about her life in Farmsville, about her sisters and how they used to get into trouble together. Poppy is shocked to realize how at ease she feels, perhaps more than she’s been in a long, long time.
"—and then I just destroyed her doll house. Maybe it was overkill, but that’s how I became the most respected kid in the entire classroom," Poppy says smugly.
Bee throws her head back and laughs, loud and bright. It almost puts a fond smile on Poppy’s face and a soft feeling in her chest.
"That sounds… exactly like something you’d do," she admits, still laughing. "For some reason I can’t picture small Poppy being any different than grown-up Poppy."
"Once a baddie, always a baddie…" Poppy smiles.
"Y’know, being here right now makes me wonder why we didn’t do this sooner" Bee says after a small silence.
Poppy looks at her with an entertained look in her eyes. "Because we were trying to ruin each other?"
"I mean, yeah," Bee nudges Poppy’s shoulder gently. "I kinda regret it now, y’know? I told you that we had more fun being enemies than we could’ve had if we had been friends. I’m starting to think I was wrong."
Poppy doesn’t say anything. Everything is so confusing to her right now, but she knows that this moment they’re having is fragile. She doesn’t want to break it. For the first time in her life, she decides to stop overthinking for just a moment and just enjoy herself.
Bee’s eyes dart to her lips, making her smile. Poppy doesn’t know who leans in closer first, but next thing she knows, she’s unconsciously running her thumb over Bee’s lower lip. She can feel Bee’s breath hitching as she closes her eyes.
Bee closes the distance between them, kissing her softly. It’s the first time that they share a kiss like this one— one that isn’t furious, or desperate, or hungry. It’s slow and deliberate and oh so sweet.
Poppy grabs her by the waist and pulls her closer, their bodies bumping against the stick shift of Bee’s car.
But like every other good thing in her life, the moment is over too soon. Eventually they have to part for air, but the look of absolute adoration that Bee gives her makes Poppy think that maybe there was some truth in her words at the graduation ceremony.
It confuses her. It’s a feeling she’s not used to experiencing… but maybe it’s not a bad one.
"It’s getting late," Bee tells her, brushing some blonde hair aside from her forehead. "Maybe we should get going."
Poppy purses her lips… then quietly nods.
------------------
The ride home was pleasant but silent. None of them talked about what happened, not even after Bee smiled at her and wished her goodnight.
They don’t see each other for two entire days after that. It’s not on like Poppy is avoiding Bee on purpose, it’s just…
She has a lot of thinking to do. She’s busy vacating her room and moving her things back to her parents’ penthouse, and thanks to an update on Zoey’s instagram, she knows that Bee is also packing her things to move out of her dorm.
No matter what Poppy does, though, she can’t concentrate on anything without her mind immediately jumping back to Bee’s car.
She’s been thinking about that night. And she’d been thinking about what she said. What Bee said.
‘It’s always been you.’
Bee. She’s been thinking about Bee. A lot.
She never could've said what exactly came over her that fateful day when Bee first arrived to Belvoire, what had drawn her eye to Bee Hughes. Was it the way her fresh-faced innocence rolled off of her in waves, alluring despite her atrocious clothes and wild mess of curly hair? Was it just the curiosity of an alpha looking for a new pet, or what?
Bee was fresh blood. But what made her any different from the others? She’s not the first transfer student she’s met. So why, why, why was Poppy’s first thought upon seeing her that she was special?
Poppy feels like a stranger looking into her own mind. Numbly she flips through the memories, examines each moment like she’s putting together a jigsaw puzzle. Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to worry about who she is. But you should worry about who I am. (That’s the first one.) I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this body in those cheap backwoods rags. (Sometimes it still startles her how pretty Bee is.) How dare she take away my friends. (She raised her up from nothing. She put her in the map. All Bee has now is only because Poppy gave her the privilege of acknowledging her existence. How dare she. How dare she— )
When it all falls into place Poppy feels rubbed raw, exposed, even though some part of her has always known who she really is. The signs had always been there. She just never wanted to see them.
But finally it makes sense why she’d never felt anything for the guys she dated, why kissing them always started with a tightening in her chest and a slight flinch she learned to suppress. Finally it makes sense why Carter could never satisfy her, why even Bradley left her feeling more muddled than anything else. Finally it makes sense why seeing Bee flirting with Carter (or Chloe. Or Veronica. Or Selene.) had left her fuming and filled with rage. She was never jealous of Bee. None of that bullshit anger was because Bee was after the boy she used to date and still considered hers. Actually, she was jealous of Carter. And Chloe. And Veronica. And Selene. And even that goddamn Professor Kingsley, who despite saying that nothing happened between them, Bee still seemed to care a lot about her.
Fuck.
------------------
It’s like the ground has been ripped out from under her feet, yet Poppy is trying her damned best to pretend nothing’s changed.
It doesn’t really work.
It doesn’t help that she’s meeting up with Chloe for lunch the next day to celebrate having moved out of the Zeta house, and she’ll have to function normally around her somehow. Chloe is telling her something about her upcoming trip to Belize, but Poppy can’t stop thinking about how soft Bee’s lips felt against her own and how silky her hair felt curled against her fingers and okay, cool, now she’s completely missed what Chloe has just said.
"Earth to Poppyyy," Chloe drawls, waving a hand in front of her face.
Poppy blinks. Shit. "Uh— what was that?"
"I was just asking you if you heard anything from Bee lately. Apparently she’s going back to Farmsville tomorrow."
"What?!" Poppy gasps before she can’t stop it.
"Uhm, yeah," Chloe says, awkwardly. "Look at her instagram page."
Poppy takes Chloe’s phone and, sure enough, there’s a post showing a smiling Bee packing her things into her car. The caption reads: ‘it’s good to go back home.'
"Oh," is all she says. She feels her heart sink.
"Poppy, are you okay…?" Chloe asks her, genuine concern in her voice.
She must look truly devastated right now if even Chloe is able to tell that something’s off. But, well. Like hell is Poppy going to tell her about this. Not until Poppy figures it out herself, at least.
"Actually, I have to go. There’s something I have to do," she stands up. Chloe looks at her confusedly, and Poppy gives her an uncertain smile. "We’re okay, Chloe. Don’t worry."
That makes Chloe smile again. Poppy feels glad, deep down. Maybe they can still be friends, after all. "Okay, then. I’ll call you later?"
It’s more of a question rather than an affirmation, and Poppy feels almost guilty that Chloe still has the need to ask her for permission. That’s something she’ll have to fix later, she resolves.
"Sure. Have fun in Belize, Chlo."
------------------
She runs to Bee’s room as fast as her stilettos will let her. She realizes it’s ridiculous— the Poppy Min-Sinclair running to her former nemesis’ dorm in hopes to make it in time.
She decides that she no longer cares.
When she gets there, though, she’s completely out of breath. Her feet are killing her and she probably looks like a total mess, but that doesn’t stop her from knocking on the door incessantly.
"I said we’ll have the room vacated in less than an hour, geez!" she hears Zoey yell from the other side of the door. She keeps knocking. "Oh my god, did you not hear what I’ve just— oh. Poppy."
To her shock, Zoey doesn’t look that surprised to see her.
"Where’s— where’s Bee?" Poppy manages to ask between labored breaths. Maybe running across campus wasn’t such a good idea. "I need to talk to her."
Zoey raises an eyebrow. "Did you run all the way here?"
"Yes," Poppy admits. There’s no point in lying now. Not after everything that went down.
Zoey smiles. "I’ll call her."
Poppy follows her inside, and her mind is transported to the only other time she was there. Her thoughts dart to Bee and her making out in the living room, and Bee’s laughter after Poppy pushed her against the kitchen counter.
The real Bee now standing in front of her starts laughing for real, too, and it snaps Poppy out of her reminiscence.
"Poppy? What are you doing here?" she asks, amused. Something tells Poppy that Bee already knows the answer to that question.
"We need to talk," she says firmly.
Zoey gives them one last knowing smile before shaking her head and giving them some privacy. Once she’s made sure that Zoey’s locked the door behind her, Bee gently takes her by the arm and makes her sit on the sofa.
"What did you want to talk about?" she asks, feigning innocence and offering Poppy a glass of water.
She takes a sip, thinking about her next words carefully. She didn’t plan this far ahead.
Poppy Min-Sinclair is not a person who minces words. At least in the sense that almost everything she says is clear in its intent to her own mind. She can talk circles around her classmates and even most of their professors, nudge and pull the conversation along without ever losing the thread of her purpose. At her best, it makes her sharp, honest, pragmatic. At her worst, it makes her downright cruel. It’s not often that she finds her mind running through ways to avoid what it is that she wants to say before she’s even opened her mouth.
But here, here she leads with: "So. I’ve been thinking about some stuff."
Which may be one of the vaguest things she’s ever said in recent memory. And she almost just leaves it at that. Which is ridiculous, but it’s like her mind has gone completely blank.
"And?" Bee prompts at last, raising an eyebrow.
Poppy bites her lip, but she knows she’ll have to spit it out eventually. She can’t just randomly ask to talk to Bee after literally barging into her dorm and then run away with no explanation whatsoever.
She takes in a breath. Lets it out, long and slow.
"Is it true that you’re going back to Farmsville tomorrow?" she finally asks.
Bee’s eyes widen. "Oh," she manages. "Yes, it’s true."
There’s a painfully long pause. Poppy pushes through, something like adrenaline running through her veins, knowing that she might never get it all out if she hesitates any more right now. "Don’t go."
Another moment of silence. Then:
"Oh my god." Bee lets out a short, sharp noise that might almost be a laugh. "Poppy Min-Sinclair, my sworn enemy, is asking me not to leave. Oh my god."
It takes a second for her words to register with Poppy, for them to cut through the pounding of her heart, and she blushes fiercely. It takes all of her willpower to prevent herself from pouting and shouting hysterically.
"Is that all you have to say?!"
"You liar!" Bee marvels. "I thought you said you didn’t want to see me ever again."
Poppy frowns, at a loss for words. Is this seriously happening right now? Was it a mistake coming here, after all?
Just when she’s thinking about getting up and running away to hide in a cave, Bee breaks into a sunshine smile. She offers up a hand to help her up, and Poppy takes it hesitantly.
"I’m not moving back to Farmsville, dummy," she whispers.
Poppy can feel the relief spreading throughout her body. "Oh."
"It’s my little sister’s birthday next week. I’m just going to surprise her."
"Oh," she repeats.
"This was really sweet, though. Maybe even better than my impromptu speech at the graduation ceremony," Bee laughs. Poppy wants to die of embarrassment. "I didn’t know that you had it in you, Pops."
Her cheeks are on fire right now. She’s never felt more stupid in her entire life. Now Bee has seen her at her most vulnerable! How humiliating is that? She feels like locking herself up in her new room and not leaving until she’s sure that Bee and Zoey have forgotten about this entire incident.
She can sense that Bee is looking at her, for a long, long moment. But Poppy can’t meet her eyes.
Finally, Bee says, carefully, "Y’know, you could come with me, Poptart."
The use of that nickname tugs on Poppy’s heart a little, and Bee smiles at her sweetly. Poppy finally looks up to meet Bee’s gaze, and is startled by the sheer intensity of the care in her eyes. It makes Poppy want to cry.
"What?" she whispers.
Bee pauses. Hesitates for a moment. Then, slowly, she leans in fully and wraps her arms around Poppy. In this completely un-Poppy fashion, she timidly embraces her back.
"I could use the company," Bee says against her ear softly.
All pretenses gone, Poppy rests her head against Bee’s shoulder and smiles.
"Okay. I’ll come with you."
------------------
sooo! here it is! maybe I’ll write a part 2 for this one and finally make my roadtrip AU an actual fanfic.
I wrote this in one day and I didn’t proofread it because I was scared of not making it in time, so I apologize for any typos you might see. also i dont know anything abt NYC’s geography so lets pretend that there are hilltops over there, okay? 😀
I know its ooc as hell, but this is the most self indulgent thing I’ve ever written and I don’t entirely hate it lmao. Writing Poppy’s personality has been a huge challenge, I don’t think I did a great job at it but I also feel like it could’ve been a lot worse than this. Either way, I think I earned a nap after this lololol
Anyways. Participating in this Poppy Weekend was so much fun. You guys are so, so talented. This fandom is full of incredibly creative people. Thank you so much to everyone who’s tagged me in their post and to all of you who’ve left nice comments under my fanfics. I literally live for your tags, I mean it. Thank you!
OMG I really loved Gisella's whole scene and specially this part ❤️ I could really feel their emotions, Gisella being careful of letting herself fall for MC (but she can't help it and she's falling or already fell) and MC having doubts about what she means to her <\3 the conflict and flavour ❤️
Poppy glances over her shoulder and immediately wishes she hadn't, wishes she could disappear, wishes she were starting at any other crappy minimum wage job in any other dingy quick-stop convenience store in any other place in the world.
Because standing in the door of the Garment District 7-Eleven is Bea fucking Hughes.
based on this incredible idea by @uhh-the-green-thing and this gorgeous art by @titfairy
535 8th Avenue, New York, NY
One day after graduation
Even in this life, Poppy has Bea.
Well, not really. It's kind of complicated. If she's being honest, Poppy herself doesn't fully understand what's going on.
She's had Bea before. A couple times, actually. Had Bea pinned down against plush mattresses and molded against her skin in the searing water of the Clubhouse hot tub. But that was all temporary; that kind of having never lasts.
She'd thought, for a while, that maybe they could last. Against her better judgement, she'd found herself indulging in fantasies of keeping up their verbal sparring long past graduation. In what way, she was never sure, but the details hardly mattered as long as they were both there.
And then, for an earth-shatteringly vulnerable moment in the middle of their graduation ceremony of all places, Poppy had allowed herself to hope.
It's always been you, Bea had lied.
And Poppy had almost been lonely enough to believe her.
Leave it to Bea Hughes to get under her skin one last time.
It's always been you is what's playing on repeat in her mind as she steps into the convenience store, doing her best to ignore the stickiness of the door handle and the flickering of the already dim overhead fluorescents.
"Welcome in!" says an overly enthusiastic woman in the ugliest baseball cap Poppy has ever seen.
"Hi," Poppy says, failing to keep the distaste from her voice. "I'm Poppy Min-Sinclair. I'm starting here today."
"Oh, of course!" The woman beams. "You're right on time!" The electronic doorbell beeps as someone else enters, and the cheerful employee's eyes focus on something just over Poppy's shoulder. "And here's our other newest employee!"
Poppy glances over her shoulder and immediately wishes she hadn't, wishes she could disappear, wishes she were starting at any other crappy minimum wage job in any other dingy quick-stop convenience store in any other place in the world.
Because standing in the door of the Garment District 7-Eleven is Bea fucking Hughes.
------------------
"Bored, Pops?" Bea asks from her place behind the ever-turning hot dog station, and Poppy makes a face.
A week has passed since they started, and Poppy has smiled and nodded her way through about fifteen of their cheerful manager's training sessions. She'd thought that Bea had been doing the same, but if the way Bea feels comfortable treating the store like a second home is any indication, she'd been wrong. Today, it seems like cheerful manager (Poppy decides to call her Cheery) has finally started to give up on Poppy's ability to retain anything regarding the store's cleaning or maintenance, and as such, Poppy has been regulated to the register. Bea, meanwhile, is in charge of everything else.
"I miss the days," Poppy muses, squinting at her fingernails through the dreary ambient light (half of which is blocked out by brim of the atrocious 7-Eleven hat Cheery insists they wear), "when the most boring part of my day was having to interact with you. Now I have to do that in the most mind numbing place on earth."
"Don't lie," Bea says teasingly. "Interacting with me was the best part of your day back at Belvoire. And I'm probably the only reason you haven't gouged your eyes out on a spork in the middle a shift here."
"Yet," Poppy corrects sulkily, eyeing the box of individually wrapped sporks that sits below the counter. "Haven't gouged my eyes out yet."
The doorbell chimes, cutting off whatever witty response Bea had no doubt prepared, and both she and Poppy snap to attention. The night shift always crawled by at a snail's pace, and while Cheery had insisted it wasn't the case, Poppy was pretty sure that the 7-Eleven seniors had managed to convince her to pencil both of her new employees in for five night shifts a week. Poppy's eyes move to the register clock: 11:34, a whole hour and ten minutes since their last customer had hauled himself into the store, spent some time poking around the aisles, and had promptly left, pockets filled with unpaid merchandise. She and Bea had watched in ambivalent silence as he'd gone, neither girl willing to put in the effort to report the theft.
"You guys have Camels?" The man rasps at Poppy. "Blue?"
Poppy grabs the cigarettes down from the wall without a word. "Thirteen ten."
The man drops a couple wadded up bills on the counter. "Hey, how old are you?"
"No." Poppy shoves the cash in the register and hands over the cigarettes and change.
"I'm just saying," the man continues, smiling in a way that makes Poppy's skin crawl. "You're too pretty to be-"
"Dude." Bea's hand closes around Poppy's shoulder, plastic gloves crinkling. "Back off."
The man frowns. "Fine," he spits, annoyed. "Bitches."
Poppy watches silently as he leaves. At her side, Bea does the same.
When the door swings closed, Bea removes her hand. "Well he was pleasant."
Poppy just sighs. "You got hot dog juice on my sweater."
"Oh." Bea frowns and wipes her gloves on her puke green 7-Eleven apron. "Whoops."
------------------
Two weeks pass since the day of their graduation, and Poppy finds herself wondering if it would have been better to just murder Bea that first day they met in the courtyard. Sure, she'd be in prison right now, but what's a little jail time compared to a seemingly endless eternity of insanity and knock-knock jokes?
"Okay, I've got one," Bea says. She's straddling one end of the counter, resting one foot on a shelf half stocked with metal mint tins and leaning back against the hot dog case in a way that Cheery would definitely not approve of. Poppy is perched at the other end of the counter, chin resting atop one knee while her other leg dangles against the shelves of gum housed adjacent to Bea's mint tins.
"Knock knock," Bea says, rapping her knuckles against the counter to give Poppy the full effect.
Poppy closes her eyes, letting her head roll back and hit the plaster wall with a hollow thunk. "Who's there?" she asks dryly.
"USA."
"USA who?"
"U-say my last joke wasn't funny, but I heard you laughing."
"Oh my god." Poppy smacks her head against the wall again. "I wasn't laughing at your joke, I was laughing at you almost cracking your head open on the Slurpee machine."
Bea shrugs, looking not even a little bit abashed. "A laugh's a laugh," she decides. "Okay, how about-"
"Stop." Poppy drops her head into her hands. "I told you, these jokes will never be funny. You can't revive the fucking knock-knock joke."
"Not with that attitude," Bea retorts, but the moments afterwards are blissfully free from any knock knocks. Poppy checks her phone for what must be the millionth time that day; the only new notification is a message from Chloe with an update on her tropical summer vacation.
"Chloe made it to Fiji," Poppy reports, for lack of anything better to say.
"Yeah." Bea glances out at the aisles of snacks and sodas that surround them, as if contemplating just how much their gloomy little convenience store isn't Fiji. "I saw."
They fall back into silence, Poppy staring numbly at a rack of salt and vinegar chips.
"Oh," Bea says after a while. "I've got another one. Knock knock."
Poppy tips her head back and groans.
------------------
After three weeks on the night shift, Poppy is basically nocturnal. Every day when the clock finally heaves itself over the cliff that is six in the morning, she and Bea take turns clocking out on a computer that looks like it came straight from the early 2000s before parting ways and making the trek home. For Poppy, that means a twenty five block walk in the freezing cold, and by the time she gets to her mom's apartment, she's already nearly half unconscious. Sleep is the priority; she showers after she wakes, usually a few hours past noon, and then tries to scrape together a meal with some semblance of flavor using the plethora of healthy vegan ingredients her mom keeps loaded in the fridge. By the time she's starting to feel like a normal person again, it's already nine PM, and she's forced to decide whether it'll be less painful to get ready for work like normal or to crawl back into her perversely tempting bed and live out the rest of her days as a hermit in poverty.
The one upside to this schedule is that she rarely has to see either her mom or Piers. They're usually gone by the time she gets home, and she leaves just a few hours after they return for the night. One of the many downsides, however, is nights like these.
"Hm." Bea muses, staring out the filthy glass door into the thundering rain. "Maybe I was wrong when I said it would be over by now."
"Hm," Poppy echoes mockingly. "You think?"
"We've still got twenty minutes. Maybe it'll stop by then."
"Or maybe we'll get robbed and someone will knock you unconscious and I can use your hideous clothes as an umbrella."
Bea nods sagely. "Yes. Maybe that will happen."
Poppy sighs deeply, wishing (not for the first time that night) that she'd worn something a little more rain proof than the thick knit cardigan she'd chosen. While she's wishing, she wishes that Piers wasn't such a shitty investor. And that Bea wasn't so fucking annoying.
"Where are you staying, anyway?" Bea asks annoyingly.
"Plaza Tower," Poppy answers. Bea snorts. "What?"
"I thought you were supposed to be poor now."
Poppy sniffs haughtily. "Poor is a relative term."
"You're working the night shift at a 7-Eleven," Bea says pointedly. "Like, full time."
Poppy glares. "Look who's talking," she spits. Then, tiredly, "Mom and Piers were the ones who decided which assets to keep and which to get rid of. I told them we should downsize, and they made me get this job instead."
"That's dumb." Bea pulls out a bottle of disinfectant and some paper towels and begins to wipe down the counters. "Can't you call your chauffer to come pick you up? Or did that asset not make the cut?"
Poppy glares harder. Bea laughs.
"Calm down, rich girl," she says. "You can crash with me."
That draws a sharp laugh from Poppy's throat. "Why would I want to do that?"
"Cause you love my company," Bea says, dead serious. "Duh. Plus I'm only two blocks away."
Poppy stares lifelessly out into the rain and adds Bea spontaneously combusts to her list of wishes. "Fine," she agrees finally. And then, because she's not a heathen and Bea is actually being helpful for once, "Thanks."
"Don't sound too excited," Bea laughs. "And don't thank me yet. We're still gonna have to run for it."
------------------
Twenty five minutes and two rain-soaked blocks later, Poppy's sitting on the edge of Bea's bathtub, wringing out her hair with a small towel. Bea had lent her some spare pajamas, the legs of which she'd had to cuff thrice to keep them from dragging on the ground.
"Thanks," she says when she emerges from the bathroom to find Bea sprawled across the couch, browsing shows on her giant TV, and she means it a little more now that she's somewhere warm and dry rather than somewhere cold and faced with the prospect of quickly becoming soaking wet.
Bea nods. "They're Zoey's," she says, gesturing to the pajamas. "Figured you'd have a meltdown if I made you touch my plebian cotton blend clothes."
Poppy ignores the dig. "Where is she?"
"Zoey?" Bea whips out her phone, opening a folder of photos and handing it over. "Big beach trip. She goes every year."
Poppy thumbs through a few pictures of a sunny sand bank, landing on one of Zoey under an umbrella surrounded by an assortment of musical celebrities. "You didn't go with her?"
Bea shrugs. "She took me last year. It was pretty awesome," she continues. "Super sunny, tons of cute girls. You would've loved it."
Poppy squints, suppressing a slight smile. "Are you calling me gay?"
"Yes, Poppy," Bea says in a straight deadpan. "I'm calling you a massive lesbian. The point is, Zoey's living it up with music production royalty. Almost makes me wish I'd actually made a plan for my future instead of fighting with you and Selene all the time."
She shifts over as Poppy settles onto the couch. "Almost?"
"Come on," Bea chides. "It was pretty fun."
It was pretty fun, Poppy admits to herself. But no amount of night shifts could drive Poppy crazy enough to say it out loud.
"So why didn't you go this year?" she asks instead.
"And pass up the opportunity to sell overcooked hotdogs with you every day?" Bea shakes her head, grinning. "Please."
Poppy can't even tell if she's joking.
------------------
What the hell are you doing here? Poppy had hissed on their first day of work. Cheery had retreated to the office to print off their paperwork, her fingers slamming down on the ancient computer keys so hard that Poppy had to wonder if she was more used to typewriters than keyboards.
I'm working, Bea had responded simply. What are you doing here?
You're such a liar. Poppy jabbed a finger accusingly in Bea's direction. How did you find out about this?
Fine, Bea had relented. I stole your phone when you walked at graduation. You really should've given it to anyone but Chloe.
So what, you saw my application email and decided it'd be fun to follow me here? Bea had shrugged, and Poppy grit her teeth. Get out!
You don't own 7-Eleven, Pops, Bea had said. You can't control who they hire. If I want to spend my summer selling badly made food to badly dressed people, I can.
I hate you, was all Poppy had said in response.
Please, Bea had laughed. You wouldn't know what to do without me.
And all thoughts of it's always been you had flown right out the swinging glass door.
------------------
"I think this is the slowest day we've ever had," Bea says halfway into week five.
It's unusually hot, even for a summer night in New York, and Poppy's skin is damp from the humidity. She'd stripped off her sweater in the first hour of her shift, and soon after had been forced to trade her simple longsleeve for a 7-Eleven polo, which hangs big on her shoulders and has slowly grown more and more unbuttoned as the heat creeps on. Bea isn't fairing much better, having abandoned her hot dog station apron just minutes after putting it on. Their hats hang forlornly in the back office, untouched since the thermometer hit 85.
It had been Bea's idea to stand in front of an open drink refrigerator. At first, they'd used it as a temporary reprieve - five minutes of engulfment in the sharp, cool air in exchange for an hour at the register - but they've reached the point where neither of them has the will to care about keeping up the pretense of doing any actual work. Bea had fashioned them little seats out of overturned milk cartons and they'd each claimed a refrigerator to sit by, well out of view of Cheery's sole security camera or anyone who might walk by.
"It's slow because anyone with a brain knows it's hot enough outside to boil it," Poppy responds. "Too bad it's already too late for yours."
"I'm wounded," Bea drawls. "And bored. Come up with some scheme to ruin my life or something."
"You come up with a scheme to ruin mine," Poppy retorts.
Bea laughs. "I thought I already did that when I showed up here."
"Well, that one kind of backfired, wouldn't you say?"
It's silent for a few minutes. Poppy lets her head roll to the side, looking at Bea, who was already looking at her.
"Wanna make out?" asks Bea.
------------------
"Why don't we do this every day?" Bea gasps, breath warm on Poppy's lips.
"I think we'd-" Poppy's next words are lost in Bea's mouth. "-fired," she finishes when they break apart. "You'd have to get your masochistic kicks in somewhere else."
"I'd just follow you to your next job," Bea laughs against Poppy's throat.
It's always been you.
------------------
If week five was heat, week six is rain.
The first day of the downpour, Bea offers to let Poppy crash again.
By the second, it's an unspoken agreement.
"You should bring some stuff by," Bea says once the rain has finally begun to let up. "You know, for next time."
Poppy keeps her tone casual, makes a show of checking something on her phone.
"Okay," she says. Bea smiles.
------------------
"You know," Bea says sometime in week eight (or is it nine? It's hard to keep track), "some people would say we're dating."
She's got Poppy backed into a rack of cold sandwiches so that Poppy's practically sitting on the refrigerator ledge, Bea almost straddling her legs. Poppy has one hand fisted in her hair, the other clutching her shoulder to keep her balance.
"Some people are idiots," Poppy breathes, and pulls Bea in for another kiss. "What can you do?"
Bea's tongue sweeps across Poppy's jawline, teeth grazing the skin of her earlobe. "Would it be so bad?"
Poppy bites hard at Bea's neck just under her jaw, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Bea makes a high keening noise, and Poppy runs her own tongue over the rapidly forming bruise. "Can you think of anything worse?"
Bea sighs, pushing Poppy away with a gentle hand to her chest. "It's four," she says without looking at the clock. "We're off."
They clock out in silence.
------------------
Bea's glaring at this customer so hard that Poppy wonders if she's changed her stance on people who steal from what the fuck do I care to I care so much I'm about to commit a murder. But the girl hasn't even stolen - not that Poppy's seen, anyway. She just keeps sending smiles over at the checkout counter, which is off-putting in its own way, but nothing to glare about more than usual.
"Just these," the girl says after a while, handing over a sandwich and bottle of tea.
Poppy scans them quickly. "Six eighteen."
The girl swipes her card. "Hey, are you busy after this? I know it's late, but I could buy you a drink."
"Oh." Oh. Beside her, Bea throws a new hotdog on the roller with more force than necessary.
"Sorry," Poppy says, giving the girl what she hopes is a polite smile. "I'm taken."
"No worries." The girl takes her items, leaving with a wave over her shoulder. "Have a good one."
The door swings closed behind her.
Bea raises an eyebrow. "Taken, huh?"
"Well," Poppy hedges. "Some people would say we're dating."
------------------
Bea finally cracks her in week eleven.
It's on one of six shifts they've had where not a single customer comes through for their entire eight hours. I thought this was the city that never sleeps, Bea had groaned during the fourth. Where the fuck is everyone?
I think anyone not sleeping at three in the morning has better things to do than trolling 7-Elevens all night, Poppy had responded. Bea's head had hit the counter with a thud.
"I think I'm going crazy," Bea says now. "I think if nothing exciting happens in the next five minutes I'm going to admit myself to a psychiatric ward."
"We're literally in the middle of making out," Poppy says, only half affronted. "I don't know how else I'm supposed to keep you entertained."
"It's not just today," Bea admits. "This place sucks. I mean, it's great that you're here and all, but it sucks. Why haven't we quit yet?"
"Because I need money and you're obsessed with me," Poppy says.
"Right. That's it." Bea's mouth returns to Poppy's neck, her fingers tangling in the buttons of her stupid 7-Eleven polo. "Seriously, though. If you don't fall in love with me soon I'm gonna have to quit."
Poppy's mind blanks out. "What?"
"It's been like three months," Bea continues, trailing kisses back to Poppy's face. "I mean, I knew it would be slow, but god. Three months on the 7-Eleven night shift for you? You'd better make this worth it."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Poppy spits, shoving Bea back. Bea's eyebrows knit in confusion.
"I told you at graduation," she says, utterly bewildered. "The speech? Remember?"
It's always been you.
"I thought..." Poppy trails off, shakes her head. "You were lying. You're lying now."
"No?" Bea's expression grows more confused. "What did you think I was doing here?"
"I don't know!" Poppy cries. "I thought you were just- being stupid! Trying to annoy me, like always!"
"Well, yeah," Bea says, like it's obvious. "I love annoying you. Cause I love you."
"You-" Poppy struggles, but the words don't come. She presses her head into her hands. "This is a lot to take in."
Bea nods in mock seriousness. "Would a knock knock joke make you feel better?"
"It would not."
"Knock knock," Bea says anyway. Poppy shakes her head, so she continues, undeterred. "Olive."
"Please stop."
"Olive yo-"
"Jesus christ," Poppy snaps. "Fine. I'll go out with you."
------------------
"We quit," Bea tells Cheery at the end of week fifteen. "Sorry."
"No problem, dears!" Cheery chirps brightly. "Let me go get your departure paperwork. Oh, and you can keep the hats as souvenirs!"
------------------
this was so much longer than i thought it would be 😭 also i know NOTHING about new york so take everything with a grain of salt and i apologize to any new yorkians reading.
A/N: i remember seeing something about a what if scenario in which poppy and mc are secretly dating and they hide it in a stereotypical rom-com style. however, it would be boring if it doesn't have the enemies to lovers trope so i decided why not fuck around and write something that evolves into a rom-com?
day 2 prompt 'present'. i'll fix the formatting later this isn't the full thing yet because i haven't finished it yet. happy #poppyweekend simps. sorry for all the typos this has been sitting in my drafts since last year 🤡
Summary: in which poppy is a bored rich kid and accidentally adds her archnemesis on snapchat, all because of a few bottles of champagne, leading her to sync her contacts and automatically add everyone.
Poppy regrets using the sync button on Snapchat. Someone needs to remind her that she needs to sue the person who invented said button, after all it caused her to accidentally add Rosie Hughes. AKA her archnemesis, the one person she despises more than the imbecilic gossip monger known as 'The T'.
The sync button has got to be the most inefficient and useless one. It's the stupidest thing in the entire universe, the developers need to make sure that their drunk consumers don't do anything stupid during the times they go out partying, as it leads to stupid decisions such as looking through Snapchat while bored, drunk or simply because one needs an ego boost. Adding random people you see at the party so that they can feed your vanity and be envious of the glamorous life you lead.
She's refreshed her Instagram and Twitter feed three times, checked all her messages and emails, but there was nothing to distract her from her current boredom. It didn't help that she had been drinking glass after glass of champagne, taking into account how one of the servers gave her a healthy supply of the drink. Needless to say, Poppy was feeling a bit tipsy and she had no choice but to open Snapchat hoping to rid herself of boredom, not taking into account how easy it is to misclick and add Rosie Hughes.
She hoped that the warning was not part of the terms and conditions, it'd make it hard for her to file a complaint.
Groaning as she finally awoke, Poppy stretches, her hair disheveled, mascara running down her cheeks staining the pillow. Hungover, irritated and grumpy, she scrambles around her bed trying to find her phone, only to regret what she found. Brand new numbers appearing, half of whom she doesn't know. Rolling her eyes, Poppy deletes all the new contacts and feels her heart falter when the name R Hughes appears on her list of Snapchat names.
Her sleepiness fades away as she continues to stare at the name, not believing herself to be stupid enough to add her mortal enemy. Adding insult to injury, the conniving little brat had the gall to add her back, leaving Poppy to draw the simple conclusion that Rosie was fucking with her. What other reason would said girl have for adding her back, if not to torment her? 'Once I see her, I'm going to wipe her face off the earth, who does she think she is?' thought Poppy as she prepared for the day ahead.
-Zeta House Kitchen-
"I'm telling you Chlo, that irritating tramp is devising a plan against me, I'm sure of it." she says whilst browsing through Rosie's uneventful story on Snapchat. The snaps consisted of her brunch with Zoey, which stirred something within Poppy, but she couldn't quite describe the feeling. There was also another snap which shows her walking her puppy, which Poppy couldn't help but replay, considering Bear, the pug looked dashing in the tuxedo he was wearing. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards, unable to contain her joy, as animals have always been her one and only weakness.
She was shaken out of her reverie once she realises that she's been staring too long at Rosie's snaps. "I'm telling you, she's up to no good. The impudent little witch probably has something up her sleeve to try and piss me off and once she does, I'm gonna shove my foot up her ass."
Chloe barely resists the urge to roll her eyes at her friend's antics. "You're so dramatic Pops, maybe she doesn't care about who she adds on social media." she says barely paying attention as she opts to continue studying her anthropology book, going over her notes before class. "Also, it's way too early to be threatening our peers, don't you think? It's not even half past 10 and you're already about to pick a fight."
Poppy inhales sharply as she turns to face Chloe. "You underestimate how aggravating Hughes can be." remarked Poppy, tone venomous. "Did you forget how she humiliated us last year? She's probably waiting until later to post something that vaguely insults me on Instagram or Twitter, because she knows that it'll piss me off."
Chloe exhales as she tries to fight off her amusement, she knows that if she laughs Poppy will no doubt send her the nastiest glare, so she calms herself. "Look Pops, it could be as simple as the fact that Hughes doesn't take social media as seriously as you. I mean have you seen her feed? It's not as curated and micromanaged as yours. Besides she probably adds everyone, she added Veronica and I too."
"Whatever, I know she's planning something with her lackeys." says Poppy as she continues to check all of her social media trying to find anything insinuating being posted on Rosie's page.
"Why is this such a big deal for you? I thought you two had that public truce where you swore not to fuck with each other. What was the point of doing that if she's just going to insult you on her socials. She knows it will incite a riot because of drama."
Poppy frowns as she mulls over Chloe's words. 'To be fair when we truced, she genuinely seemed to mean it. Also, Hughes hasn't done anything remotely antagonistic to her in months.'
Crossing her legs, she says "Well that's what makes this whole situation suspicious. Why did she add me? Why now? There's definitely something going on. She's probably still pissed off at me because she's that petty and wants revenge. After all, we did spend all of last year clawing at each other's throat with backhanded insults and actions. I mean it makes sense, being in a truce is the best time to let out all your anger just because you've missed the arguments."
Chloe blinks, looking at Poppy like she's out of her mind, as she watches the girl continue.
"I mean nowhere in that truce did we say that we had to act nice or befriend one another. It was set so that neither of us actively tried to murder each other."
Chloe needs to take a moment to gather herself before she can respond. She shakes her head, trying to process this whole situation, which was bizzare to say the least. "Look Poppy, you and Rosie have been trying all of last year to ruin each other's lives, no matter what. You're so used to bickering and arguing that it's ingrained in your brain to be agitated when it comes to each other. You're just looking for something petty so that you can start a fight. Just because it's something you're so used to doing. Speaking of which by the way, you should use all of that pent up energy and channel it into something constructive."
Poppy raises a brow. "Which means what, exactly?"
"You can always try to befriend Hughes, try and make amends, amongst other things." said Chloe with a smirk.
"Like what?" Poppy asks, as Chloe continues to smile. "Well, I mean you've been complaining about the lack of cute students in Belvoire when you're drunk. I'd say that Rosie Hughes is more than acceptable, she's quite easy on the eyes. Also because I'm tired of you calling me when you're drunk telling me about the fact that you're too pretty to be single."
Poppy's skin flushes, embarrassed. "Stop reminding me of that. Oh my God! I was wasted."
"Besides Pops, Rosie seems interested in you. Who knows, maybe if you shoot your shot you might actually succeed."
"What?" asked a baffled Poppy.
"You do realise that Rosie is gay and single right?"
"Your point being?" said Poppy.
"You've asked me to send cute people your way and I'm suggesting Rosie Hughes."
"Rosie is a big pass, I'd rather die."
"I don't know Pops, you're both on Snapchat and you're both single, it sounds like a rom-com in the making." remarked Chloe, as she teases her blonde friend.
'I mean, Chloe has a point. Farmsville isn't bad, and it's not like it's their first time hooking up. However, she knows how insufferable Hughes can be.' Poppy catches onto the fact that she actually considered dating Rosie and it makes her cringe. 'It's official, I've gone insane. There's nothing remotely attractive about Rosie Hughes.'
"Earth to Poppy! Are you okay? I was kidding. You don't need to spazz out, I'm just suggesting that you keep your prospects open." said Chloe as she sends Poppy a mischievous winks which only earns her a frustrated grunt.
"There's a higher chance of hell freezing over before I touch that skank. Have you forgotten that she literally slept with half of our so-called friends? I'd rather not touch Veronica and Carter's sloppy seconds."
Chloe doesn't resist rolling her eyes. "You say that as if you didn't sleep with her too." She deadpans causing Poppy to blush as she stutters. "T-that meant nothing. I was just using her as a distraction."
"Yeah, a distraction. Did you forget that my room is literally adjacent to yours? Thanks for not letting me sleep."
Poppy wishes that the ground would swallow her whole. Her whole face is flushed and she can feel the heat spreading all throughout her body. Clearly embarrassed, she squeaks out a response. "Shut up Chlo, that was one time." (That's a lie, she's hooked up with Hughes more than once, but she's not telling Chloe that.)
"Yeah, well maybe you should do it again, because the next day you looked so relaxed and unbothered. You were literally glowing. That's like the first time I've ever seen you genuinely happy. Anyways, text me later, I've got to get to class." Chloe blows Poppy a kiss as she leaves to go to class.
Poppy stares as her friend leaves, and she just sighs because she can feel a migraine coming on.
-LATER THAT EVENING-
A whole day has passed and Poppy has yet to see any call-out or vague posts on Rosie's social media, and she has to concede. Maybe Chloe was right, maybe Rosie didn't take social media as seriously as she does. Rosie definitely did not seem to care about the layout of her socials.
Hell, even when she passed by Poppy earlier on campus, Rosie didn't even say anything. Only acknowledging her presence with a small nod. Rosie didn't even instigate a glaring match, opting to go about her day without even as much speaking to Poppy, which was suspicious but she doesn't dwell on it.
She refuses to agree with Chloe, she definitely does not enjoy arguing with Rosie, but she's not going to lie, she was looking forward to Rosie using this slight mishap to start something, but then she realises that Chloe would be right about purposefully picking fights just because it's something she is familiar with. She refuses to admit that she enjoys anything related to Rosie.
Okay, fine, sometimes Poppy would replay her stories whenever it had Bear in it and occasionally she would say something funny. Provided that Poppy is sleep deprived, uncaffeinated and squinting, she has to admit that there are times where Hughes looked passable. She definitely does not replay those endearing snaps of Rosie acting sweet to Bear and talking to him in an exaggerated baby voice. Definitely not. She only replays those because Bear looks absolutely darling, not because she finds Rosie attractive. Not at all.
Speaking of which, if Rosie doesn't care about adding her on Snapchat then it's not a big deal. She sure as hell isn't going to give Rosie the satisfaction of making a fuss. Besides, Poppy looks at everyone's story so it's not like Rosie is anything special.
The evening proved to be uneventful until late. Poppy was in her pyjamas getting ready for her normal nightly routine.
Life really has a way of fucking with people. Surprised would be an understatement as Poppy stares at the notification on her phone. She was just doing her daily skincare ritual when the familiar ping of her phone caught her attention. She's set on ignoring it, but when she reads the notification, a scowl graces her perfect features.
SNAPCHAT from R HUGHES
"Of course the little slag waits until the evening to mess with me. I swear to God I am going to destroy this whore." muttered Poppy as she grabbed her phone, livid.
She opens Snapchat to see what Hughes sent. She already knows it's probably something petty and annoying. After all, it is Rosie's specialty.
Imagine her shock when she opened the snap. Instead of anything offensive, she received a selfie of Rosie. The selfie had nothing in common with what she usually posts in her stories, it looks too intimate for the public. The raven-haired girl was staring at the camera with a sultry expression whilst she pouted seductively. Her bright red lipstick emphasised the pout, as her disheveled hair fell on her shoulders. Rosie was wearing a low-cut dress that drew Poppy's eyes to her chest, cleavage pushed up and accentuated by the downward angle.
Poppy can feel her face getting warm, blood rushing to places that it shouldn't. This was her enemy for God's sake. She shouldn't be feeling like some horny teenager, just because of a stupid selfie. It definitely didn't help that the bane of her existence looked gorgeous.
She stares at the photo for a few seconds before she finally manages to read the caption.
'please, we know you'd want a bite of this if you could 😘'.
It takes every ounce of self control for Poppy not to scream. She was definitely too fucking gay and sexually frustrated for this shit.
The snap disappears before she can fully grasp the situation. Her mind goes back to the scandalous image that was sent to her by Hughes. She remembers the way Rosie's dress hugged her assets, showing off every curve, and the lascivious way she stared at the camera. It was absolutely sinful, and Poppy is still shell-shocked. Everything in that picture took her breath away. Who knew her enemy could look that good?
What sleep paralysis demon possessed Rosie to send her that image?
Poppy isn't going to lie, she definitely enjoyed seeing the image and it'd be pretty shitty of her to leave such a pretty girl on read. So against her better judgement, Poppy puts on light makeup as she changes into her pastel pink negligee that she knows drives people insane, after all she's gotten pretty good reviews and you'd be hard-pressed to find any complaints when it comes to her selfie capabilities. She makes sure to put on her favourite Chanel lipstick that she knows makes her lips look biteable, fluffing her hair making sure that she looks impeccable as she poses for the camera.
It takes her a few trials to get the angle right, she knows she looks delectable. She bites her bottom lip for the picture. Her negligee is transparent, showing off her pale porcelain skin. It also wraps around her frame, capturing every curve perfectly. The flimsy fabric leaves little to the imagination. The garment and the angle showing off her best assets.
'Not bad for a walking Target ad. Who knew you could look good, Farmsville? Certainly not me. 😜'
She can't help the smirk that graces her lips. 'There, let's see you match that Hughes.' That should be enough to leave her tongue-tied.
R Hughes is typing…
Poppy's phone pings once again, and she stares at the notification, which has been there for more than a minute. What was Hughes trying to achieve? Was she typing out a whole book as a response to the picture?
R Hughes
>fuck
>tHat's not supposed to be for you
>I MEant to send that to Zo
>I fuckijg hate SNAOCHAT
Poppy would be lying if she didn't find that hilarious, but it also stirred something in her. Why was Rosie Hughes sending such intimate pictures with Zoey Wade? Besides, it wasn't surprising that Hughes would send her something by accident, said girl is prone to accidents after all. Although, it makes her think about Rosie's conversation with Zoey. What were they talking about for her to send something like that? She rolls her eyes, as she types out a response. She was too tired to spare any energy thinking about the inner goings of Rosie's mind.
Poppy Min-Sinclair
>what kinda shit are you and zoey talking about to warrant such a picture
>a little fuck and go before graduation?
>didn't think you had it in you skank
>oh wait nevermind, you've slept with half my friends to reach the top 💩
Poppy knows she's practically asking for an argument at this point, but she couldn't help it. The whole thing between Rosie and Zoey made her head spin, she didn't know why it was such a big deal. She's not going to lie, she missed the banter with Rosie. It was exhilarating, no one was brave enough to stand up to her, that is until hog-calling Rosie Hughes showed up. It made her feel a rush she's never felt before, not even when she was dating Carter.
Her phone buzzes for what felt like the millionth time.
R Hughes is typing…
R Hughes
>fuck you
>you're still a massive bitch, at least that hasn't changed
>zoey and I just joke around from time to time, like friends do
>oh wait you wouldn't know, you don't have any 😈
Poppy couldn't help the chuckle that escapes her. Who knew Belvoire's resident good girl had claws? This was definitely going to be fun.
Poppy Min-Sinclair
>first of all I know I'm a bitch but at least I acknowledge it
>anyways, thanks for the entertainment Hughes, I was having a dull evening
R Hughes
>don't tell me you actually enjoyed the photo I sent?
Poppy Min-Sinclair
>😘
>in your dreams
>i was feeling charitable today which is why i even bothered to respond
>toodles
Poppy knows that she’s lying but she’d rather die than admit that she actually found her mortal enemy attractive, even if they’ve had brief flings before. Those flings were enjoyable enough but she’d be hard-pressed to feed Rosie’s ego.
She knows that her mortal enemy is probably fuming right about now, and little does she know, she’s absolutely right. Her phone screen lights up notifying her that Rosie was typing, but after a few beats of continued silence, Poppy chortles, amused that she’s managed to silence the bane of her existence. The kissy face emoji was a bit much, but if it gets her results then she definitely wasn’t above using it again.
When she doesn’t get a response back, Poppy knows that she has won this round by claiming the last word.
She leaves her phone on her nightstand, leaving it to charge as she wipes away her carefully applied make-up, after all breaking out isn’t exactly on her agenda this week.
Poppy goes to sleep at peace, knowing she’s rendered Rosie speechless.
-ROSIE POV-
“What the hell is her deal? She compliments me and then backtracks to insulting me again. She’ so fucking infuriating.” mutters Rosie as she barely holds back a snarl.
In contrast to Poppy’s peaceful sleep, Rosie spends the whole night tossing and turning as she overthinks about this whole ordeal.
‘Why did she compliment me and then send such a nice picture only for her to completely blow it out of the water by insulting me again? This is weird even for Poppy. Sure she’s a bitch but she never compliments anyone, not even her best friends.’ thought Rosie as she holds her phone, trying to formulate a response, until she decides not to take the bait. Poppy did say she was bored, and she didn’t really feel up to arguing with Poppy at god awful hours.
Next time for sure, she’s going to wipe the smirk that Poppy's probably sporting, by leaving her an inarticulate and stuttering mess.
Poppy and Bea unfortunately have to work on another project together and it’s a lot more mundane than shooting a commercial for an animal shelter. Poppy insists (demands) that she do everything, even getting books from the library that are way too high on the shelf for her to get.
so for day two the prompt was present! one thing about the finale that bothered me was the confrontation with poppy right before you hook up with her. it could've been played off more romantic to make the ending a little more satisfying, so that's what i decided to do!
i won't include the smut bit because half of my soul is still in the trenches right now, and im avoiding writing smut. sorry bout that, lovelies.
poppy (jeon somi faceclaim) x bea (MC)
disclaimer/s : cursing and derogatory language. if you meet a poppy min sinclair in real life, slap her once for yourselves then send her over to me so i can date her thank u.
Once you were sure that Zoey and Ina were out of sight, you returned your focus to the wannabe blonde barbie in front of you. You two were short of snarling at each other like wild animals when you shoved her back. The blonde quickly regained her bearings before she glared her beady little eyes at you, breathing heavily while she did so.
“Will the day ever come when you don’t ruin everything for me?” She asked, stomping back up to your face, her perfectly manicured eyebrows furrowed in the most unbecoming way. Her finger was now pressed against the center of your chest accusatorially. The rage in her burned even brighter when you grinned smugly down at her, taking her dainty hand in yours. “God, I hope not.”
While the tiny voice in your head argued not to piss her off even more but there was just something endearing about the angry look on her face that just made you so giddy. You saw her clench her jaw. With her free she tried with whatever strength she had left to shove you away to no avail.
You were surprised to see her glare softening ever so slightly but the venom and purpose in her voice never faltered. “Why do you have to make my life so much harder, intrepid little farmhand?” Poppy forced out, forcing emphasis onto every word. You felt your eye twitch. YOU’VE made HER life harder? Was this bitch for real?
Your grip on her hand tightened as you forcibly pulled her closer, her floral perfume now filling your senses and you glare at her. “Maybe if you’d cared a little more about your actions and how they affected people other than yourself, this never would have happened!” You practically snarled in her face.
She was mere inches away from you at this point but she stopped resisting. You took this to mean to continue. “You picked a fight with me at every turn and sometimes, yeah it was a fucking pleasure to undermine you. But I didn’t always want to!” Her eyes went wide at your sudden confession.
“There were fucking times I thought that you were more than your rich-bitch-better-than-everyone persona, that you were capable of human emotion other than rage. But you proved to me that I always needed to keep my guard up around you.” You paused to catch your breath, you were both absolutely heaving at this point from the rage that bubbled between the both of you. But you stared into her dark eyes, like you have so many times before, “I absolutely loathe you, Bea Hughes.”
For some odd reason, you couldn’t fight the smirk that was beginning to form on your lips as you watched her lips curl up as well. “Oh I absolutely hate you too, Poptart.” The blonde scoffed and rolled her eyes at the nickname, but there was no hostility, and you found yourself smiling. “I hate you so, sooo much.”
Poppy pulled you down to press your lips together. It was an odd feeling. It wasn’t like any of the kisses you’d shared with her before. All of the other ones were heated, hunger-driven, and depraved, threatening one another with no words. Now though, it was delicate and soft. You wrapped your arm around her waist, hoisting her up a little higher to deepen the kiss. Her hand moving to play with the baby hairs you had at the back of your neck.
Suddenly, she pulled away, biting your lip back gently. A smile on her face, one of the most genuine ones you’d ever seen from her. Poppy stared at you with those brown eyes, for the first time they had no malice or rage behind them, “I hate every single thing about you, Farmsville.” You nodded slowly as you pressed a defiant kiss to her cheek, continuing to press light kisses on her supple skin. “Likewise, you bitter skank.”
The blonde leaned into your touch, enjoying the attention you gave her. “I hate your homely little face.” She listed before running a hand through your hair as you made your way to her ear. Nipping and leaving more kisses on her now reddening ears. You hummed softly. “Ditto times a thousand…” You muttered, not really paying much attention at this point anymore.
“Your voice makes me want to manually grate my ears off.” Poppy groaned as you began to leave red marks on her jaw. The rich young woman giggles softly as you leaned back, a dopey grin on your face. You leaned in and took her lips against yours again, a light hearted air now swirling between you both. The heat of the argument now completely gone. In its place was a a somehow magical aura from the both of you. You pulled away as Poppy continued her rant.
“And you want to know what the worst thing about you is, Farmsville…?” She asked, her voice delicate as she peppered you flushed face with kisses. You chuckled and tucked a piece of her blonde hair back behind her ear. “Tell me…” You muttered, only half-listening to the conversation at this point.
Her award-winning smile grew when she pecked your lips again gently. “That no matter what I do, I can’t bring myself to even despise you anymore.” You smiled, satisfied with the confession, you nudge your nose beside hers, staring into the eyes you used to genuinely loathe with so much adoration and affection.
“Good, cause this is my heaven in hell.”
The both of you soon retired to your room for some…rest and recreation lets say. Before you finally, finally, enjoyed your last night of senior year, with the biggest bitch you’d ever met in your life on your arm.
for even when you’re far away (i hold you in my heart)
alas, my comeback on tumblr! a whirlwind since i last posted; i finished my gce o level exams and i got enrolled into my dream art school! got back into the queen b train and back to creating content with my fellow clowns <3
this is part one of three for my poppy weekend entry! this is also inspired by the story of zhongli and guizhong from genshin impact :D (i by any means do NOT see zhongli and guizhong as a ship/couple, i only see them as friends!)
-
the past—
where an austere dragon descended from the skies to the call of a benevolent goddess who roamed the mortal earth.
In the many millennia before the present, it was all about survival. The discord amongst the heavenly individuals, eventually drove many gods and goddesses alike to descend to the mortal earth below where they could look for a new life as someone new, despite their holy blood. One of whom goes by the name of Poppy, found a small rural village which came to be under her care in the following years she descended.
However, she found the vermin which lived in the dark corners of her land to be affecting the crops and eventually the health of many of her people, who succumbed to the sicknesses and diseases these creatures brought with them. So, she called upon a friend from the skies, who came to her and dispelled the issues with ease.
One afternoon, Poppy was distributing seeds to a family who was heavily affected by the recent loss of their crops. After her friend had removed the vermin causing much trouble, she brushed her fingers against the earth beneath her feet and dropped a few seeds into the small concave she made.
“Six years they shall grow,” she said. “On the seventh, you shall receive bountiful. And your family shall be eating well for the many seasons to come.”
“Thank you for your wisdom, Your Grace,” the farmer bowed, before returning to the hut where he lived with his family.
“Poppy.”
Poppy turned to the rumbling voice which called her name.
“Ah, welcome back Bea,” she smiled at the dragon, whose golden eyes were like lanterns in the shadows of the cave where Poppy was sure smelled like blood.
“I have fulfilled my end of our contract. The creatures which have plagued your people, cease to be.”
Poppy placed a hand on Bea’s muzzle, and laughed gently. Chuckling, Bea would have described it to be. Melodical as she always has been. “Oh, how very powerful of you, Beatrice! The power to rattle the stars!”
She pauses, then presses closer to the dragon, indulging in the warmth underneath the cool-to-the-touch scales, listening to the constant rumble. “Shall I interest you with another?”
One that Bea had been grateful to accept. To co-found a city together, where their people would prosper. It was also where Bea has shifted into her mortal body for the first time, and where Poppy had taught her how to present herself as “Bea the goddess” and not “Bea the menacing dragon”. A constant anchoring presence behind Poppy, as she watched this goddess negotiate with their people, as well as with other divine beings whom had become close friends with Bea over the decades.
Alas, Bea had found someone she could devote herself to.
She had heard of a word to describe what she was feeling. Bea had heard it while on a walk and came across a young gentleman confessing to a beautiful maiden.
In love.
Was she?
A dragon, who had her history, her entire life bathed in blood…in love with someone who radiated sunlight onto this world plagued with unimaginable darkness?
When it had clicked in her head, the bond was severed.
The earth had been torn asunder, and a thunderous roar tore the heavens.
theartofmadeline
baratheonpilled
turnnoffyourmind
pixelskylines
