#spaces!mattia

[sleepyfan-blog]

Mattias' Arrival (1)

Author’s Note: This is Mattias’ introduction into the Astartes’ Husbandry AU and is connected to Cedric’s current character arc. For other adventures click here and here. First. Previous. Next.  Thank you very much @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me borrow her oc Petras

Tagged:@egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 @c-u-c-koo-4-40k

Warnings: Lying, manipulation, blood, violence, Petras being Petras

Summary: Mattias goes from chatting with one of his brothers to finding himself on M3 Terra. Luckily for him, he’s immediately found by a group of older Black Templars and made a member of their Crusade. 

“So… What do you think it’s going to be like when we are deployed with our firstborn brothers?” Matias asked as he gently nudged one of his siblings.

Lestra hummed briefly before shrugging “I don’t know. Hopefully they are a bit less uptight on the rules than our Ultramarine minders have been.”

“... Can you really blame them for that, though? Their Primarch arose from near-death while Maccrage itself was being invaded by Chaos and Xenos alike. For the first time in ten-thousand years a primarch leads the Imperium. Their gene-sire walks amongst them once again.” Mattias points out, a tiny smile appearing on his face and he sighed wistfully “Imagine if you will, if Lord Dorn were found alive and willing to lead the Imperium once more…”

Lestra let out a small sound, muffled by the hand they’d pressed to their mouth, as their eyes widened “I… Oh. I get it now. Yes, you’ve made your points, and made them well. I’m… I’mgoing to need to take a moment to process that last thought you’ve given me…”

Mattias nodded, stretching and yawning a little. He found the strict training schedule that the Ultramarines kept them on to be both familiar and comforting. “It’s about to be lights out so we should head to our assigned bunk room to sleep.” He pointed out. They had four and a half hours of downtime that they were allowed to use to do any number of tasks or even… Learning a new skill outside of their assigned roles as Battle Brothers. It was amazing if mildly terrifying.

It was an unprecedented amount of free time, and Matias was eagerly learning to wield some of the other kinds of melee weapons that were available to practice sparring with in the Ultramarines’ armory. HIs favorite so far was a spear and short-sword combo that gave him all sorts of two-weapons techniques to learn and practice drills with.

“We still have over half an hour before our assigned sleep time and we’re in real-space.” Lestra pointed out “I want to look at the stars on the observatory deck. It’s so much better to be able to see them, rather than trying to memorize star charts that the Mechanicum gave us to memorize during basic training.” Lestra pointed out, green-blue eyes shining hopefully at his Brother as he asked.

Mattias heaved a sigh. Some of their more wary fellow Primaris brothers had quietly insisted that if Primaris marines were to wander around different parts of the ship and away from where larger groups of them were, to at least stay in pairs, for their own safety. While the Ultramarines had been accommodating and pleasant hopes, some of their more tightly wound fellow Primaris marines were convinced their kindness was some sort of test, and that the usual misery would fall upon them all at one point. Mattias was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen - if the Ultramarines were going to be cruel to them, why pretend to be nice at all? But he dutifully stuck to the request. “Alright. We’ll go to the observatory deck… Again.”

Lestras sulked a little “Yes, again! The star charts that we were given to memorize have so far not been entirely accurate! Some of them were wildly inaccurate. I suspect that the reason why the star charts are incorrect is because of the time it takes to survey a given star system and get it sent back to Mars means that the drift and motion of the planets and star or stars in the system have already shifted out of alignment… Or because one or more of the planets have been destroyed for one reason or another. But I find it really fascinating to compare the information we were given to what is actually tr-”

Mattias held up a hand, pausing his sibling’s rant, the amused grin on his face dropping a little “I’d be happy to accompany you to the observation deck. I know how strongly you feel about this… But you know to question the veracity of certain things is heresy! Please be careful with your words, dearest sibling of mine. I know that you are loyal and true, but our hosts don’t know you as I do and the walls have ears and eyes everywhere.” He kept his voice light and calm, trying to shake off the ominous worry gnawing at his hearts.

Lestras huffed and grumbled “It’s just… It’s possible to travel through time as well as in space in the Warp, both backwards and forwards relative to one’s starting point. There have been several documented cases of that happening on a massive time-scale. If we ever do end up in the past, the differences in how the star charts we memorized are, versus what we see before us is one way to have a relatively accurate guess as to when in time we are. That is all I meant by it.” Lestras grumbled, though they nodded slightly in understanding.

“Mmm-hmm. Do you want to tell me more about it?” Mattias asked, even though he had heard this particular rant from Lestras more than once. It was a favored topic of theirs, and he enjoyed the passion and joy in which they took in talking about stars and astral-navigation. Mattias found their enthusiasm to be very charming and hoped to find a similar passion one day.

The Ultramarines encouraged their attempts at varied learning, which was a breath of fresh air. Compared to the rigid training of the Mechanicum. Especially as they did not like questions beyond the acceptable ones, and punished incorrect questions and lines of thinking with heavy mecha-dendrites…. Unless one’s questions were unfortunate enough to get The Creator’s personal attention. While he seemed to enjoy indulging others’ curiosity when in a mood… Those brothers were often taken away and never seen again.

Mattias managed to pull himself free of his mauldin musings when he and Lestras arrived at the Observation deck. His sibling was too focused on the stunning spectacle of stars and planets to notice the lurking Ultramarine Captain standing near one of the armored windows. They rushed in, dragging Mattias along with them and pressed their hands against the toughened glass, looking at the planet that the ship was in geo-stationary orbit around.

Mattias couldn’t remember if he had been told the name of this world… But this was where the Primaris Lamenterts, along with their assigned ships and supplies were being dropped off at, to be led by Brother Sargeant Hagiel of the Lamenter’s third company. “Woah, hey, Lestras!” He called out as the other dragged him across the floor, glancing briefly at the Older Cousin who was watching them, a small smirk appearing on his face as he watched them. 

“What? It’s such a beautiful sight, and it’s not as if anyone comes into the observatory! It’s one of the least-used parts of the ship… Which I do understand, while we are in the warp, as it is quite dangerous to observe the warp, even through the gellar fields, madness and worse lies for the fool who does that… But in real space the view can be-” Lestras rambled, unaware of the Firstborn watching him. 

The Ultramarine’s shoulders were shaking a little, and he put his red and white crested helmet on, presumably to prevent the laughter that was clearly shaking his body to be heard by either of them. 

“Yes yes I know all that. But see, we-” Mattias started, before falling silent as the firsborn Marine raised an armored finger to his face plate, over where his lips would be, as a shushing motion before he slowly started to leave the observatory, moving soundlessly as he did so “-should be fine! Sorry, I thought I saw something. Now what do you think of the system?”

“The planets and other major bod-” Lestra started to say, before a blinding flash of white washed through the room, causing Mattias to cry out in alarm, throwing an arm over his face to try and preserve his vision, the other trying to grab blindly for his sibling.

~

Mattias could not say how long it took him to blink the blinding white out of his eyes. He knew for certain that he wasn’t suddenly teleported somewhere - teleporters had a different color and he both would have been forewarned about being teleported, or activated a teleporter beacon if he was high enough ranked to merit such an artifact… Mattias found himself at the bottom of some kind of ravine or canyon. The orange-brown stone walls stretched several hundred feet above, carved over time by the river that he could see. The water was a stunning shade of blue-green and shone in the bright light of the single star he could see in the sky. It was a cloudless day and he could feel a light breeze on his face. 

He fumbled with his helmet, which had been clipped to his belt, before placing it on his head, hearing it click into place before he activated the vox-caster in his helmet, broadcasting on all Black Templar frequencies first “Hello? Is anyone nearby? Do you know where we are? I don’t know how I got here, I was in orbit around a habitable planet moments ago. This is Brother Mattias of the Black Templars, can anyone read me?”

There was a deafening silence that lasted for what felt like an eternity before there was an answering voice on the vox “This is Brother Cazzard of the Sprechembriech Crusade of the Black Templars. From the confusion in your voice, I’m guessing that you’ve just landed on Ancient Terra. Send me your coordinates and I’ll come get you… What’s your rank? I am a veteran battle brother.”

“Uhm… It’s a little complicated?” Mattias answered as he dutifully sent his exact location to the Brother he was speaking to “I’m a Primaris marine, sir. I am… I was with the Indomitus Fleet, along with the rest of the Primaris Black Templars, heading to where the Black Templar fleet was being assembled to swear fealty to the Imperial Regent, who is leading the Indomitus Fleet.”

“Ah so you don’t technically have a specific rank within the Black Templars because you haven’t met your older brothers, yet. Given what I’ve heard about Primaris Marines, you’d be considered an Aspirant, until one of us takes you on as an Apprentice. Who’s the Imperial Regent, by the way?” Brother Cazzard asked “Got your location ping… I’m close to the top of the canyon you’ve found yourself in. There’s a footpath that you can use to get to the top of the canyon. This place is a pretty popular attraction to the local mortal populace. I’ll bring you to the sarge and he’ll explain the hows and whys of where we are, Mattias.”

Foot path?... Hmm… Oh! He could see small groups of mortals, some of them riding four-legged animals, walking down the path. They were across the river from where he was standing. “I see the path. I’lll need to cross the river to get there. Is the water safe to move through?”

“It is. Are you in armor?” Cazzard asked. “And is it void-ready?”

“Yes sir, on both counts.” Mattias answered promptly.

“Good lad. Just walk across. There shouldn’t be enough pressure in the water of the river to cause you issues, and the water doesn’t run fast enough to cause you problems when crossing. See you soon, little brother.” Cazzard rumbled. 

Mattias pouted a little as he did as he was ordered to, as he could hear the amusement in his voice.

~

Two months passed without Mattias noticing the time. The realization that he was on Holy Terra was a huge shock to the young Black Templar, who had never had the honor to step foot on those sacred grounds, despite having been trained ever since he could remember within the halls of the priesthood of Mars. He had briefly interacted with other wandering Crusades of older brothers, but mostly kept respectfully quiet and to the back of the group, observing how his older brothers interacted with one another.

There were groups of Firsborn Cousins who preferred to stay in one place and dig in, fortifying whatever town or region that they lived in. It was in one of these forts where he had briefly met a couple of his fellow Primaris Marines - an incredibly anxious Judiciar and a tightly wound Apothecary in training.

Both of them had been nice enough, but they had also been really weird and borderline hostile towards his older Brothers - who while strict, had taught him much. They also interacted with traitors on purpose and without the due venom and wariness that warranted, so Mattias avoided interacting with Ramiel and Cedric more than absolutely necessary. 

Captain Deitrich - a venerable Dreadnaught who serves as the leader of their warband - called out to Mattias. He had been speaking with the leader of the other Templar Warband who were in the area, a Chaplain Captain. “Mattias, come here, lad.”

“Yes sir.” Mattias answered obediently, standing up from where he had been sitting on the ground, making minor repairs to one of his boots, sliding his foot inside of it before walking over to where his Crusade Leader was standing. “Did you require something of me, sirs?”

The Chaplain Captain looked him over critically before humming “You are indeed a Primaris Marine. Of the handful or so I’ve heard of being on Ancient Terra, you’re the only one I know of who is part of a proper Crusade… Which I find strange, given that there are at least two, possibly as many as a half-dozen Primaris Black Templars within the nearby mortal city. Not that the Cousins who run the base will allow us to meet any of them.”

Mattias blinked in confusion “Are… Are you talking about Judiciar Ramiel, and Apothecary in training Cedric? I’ve met them once or twice… They were a little strange, but nothing that some time around Older Brothers wouldn’t fix.”

“Care to explain that comment, apprentice?” The Chaplain asked, his steely blue gaze sharpening a little as Mattias spoke. 

“Both of them were tightly wound and very anxious. I imagine being surrounded by strangers and forced to be polite to filthy traitors and corrupted heretics is awful.” Mattias answered, shuddering a little at the very thought. He couldn’t imagine staying in one place all the time. Being unable to wander and explore, on top of all of the nonsense that they had to deal with. He was perfectly happy to stay with his older brothers. 

“... I see. Walk with me, if you please, Matthias. I think I may know this Ramiel, from Before, and I’d like to discuss what you know of him in greater detail, privately.” Captain Petras murmured, his voice quiet and thoughtful as one of the other’s hands lightly pressed against the middle of Mattias’ back.

Toroz looked up from where he was leaning against a nearby tree and tending to his chainblade “If you wanna talk about the other primaris marines, why not in front of us? They’re our little brothers too, same as Mattie here.”

There was a flash of emotion that crossed the Chaplain’s face, but it faded as quickly as it came. HIs voice was clipped and curt “Ramiel may be my apprentice, from Before. He…” There was a tremor in his voice and he looked away from the two groups “He was killed, in M42. I was unable to avenge his death, before being brought here by the whim of whatever brings us here.”

“... Oh.” Toroz responded, a guilty look appearing on his face as he took a half step back, looking away from the chaplain captain. 

“I’ll tell you know about Judiciar Ramiel, but truth be told sir, I don’t know much about him.” Mattias answered earnestly, dutifully walking alongside the older Black Templar, mentally going over what he did know of the other Primaris marine.

~

“You know, you very nearly had me fooled for a moment or two.” Chaplain Petras murmured his voice light, and almost pleasant, if not for the strangely intense expression on his face. 

“What do you believe that I’ve fooled you about, sir? To my knowledge, I have done or said nothing that would present myself or anything that I know of in a false manner, sir.” Mattias asked, a genuinely confused expression appearing on his face as he looked at the older templar.

There was a very strange and disconcerting look on Petras’ face as he stalked closer to where he had ordered the younger Astartes to sit. “That you didn’t recognize me. That you didn’t remember our last encounter. It did take me a few moments to place which of the abominations whom I had culled in M42 you were. But then I remembered your timid, babbling Brother. The one who rambled uselessly about star charts.”

Mattias felt his hearts lodge themselves into the back of his throat, and his eyes widened in utter confusion and distress. Cedric and Ramiel had both warned him that not all Firstborn Brothers had reacted well to the Primaris Rollout, particularly within their own chapter. “Are… Are you referring to Brother Lestras, sir?” He asked, voice cracking in grief and anger at the thought of his sibling being killed for existing. There was nothing wrong with them!

Petras sneered down at him, raising a power-claw clad fist and attempting to strike him across the face “Did I tell you that you could speak, abomination? But yes. Lestras was that waste of resources name, I remember now. I found him here, you know. On Ancient terra. His wounds were grave, but survivable. I knew that those soft-hearted fools would be coming by soon so I could not kill him fully, but I ensured that his wounds would kill him.”

Mattias had been so startled by the reveal that, had he not been trained since he could begin to move combat maneuvers, he would have allowed the blow to hit him. As it had been long-engrained inside of him, Mattias rolled backwards off of the rock he’d been sitting on, evading the strike. “You… You killed them here? On Ancient Terra? Why?!” Mattias snarled, now up on his feet, fury boiling in his hearts. How dare this bastard do this?

“You Primaris Marines are wasteful abominations of flesh and gene-seed. You should not exist, and it is my duty to cull you miserable wastes of sentience wherever I find you. The God-Emperor himself has granted me this second chance to continue the culling. Why else would I have been brought here, after I was struck down by that fool, otherwise?” Petras revealed, the utterly terrifying look on his face intensifying “I did not say you were allowed to move, abomination. You will kneel before me and take your punishment for existing and for daring to endear yourself to proper marines. To true Black Templars.”

Oh like fuck he was! Mattias hissed “The fuck I will! You just admitted to murder and you’re calling me the abomination? That’s fucked. You want to hurt me? Just try it old man!” With that he charged the chaplain at full speed, pulling out his blade and trying to slash at the other with an overhead, two-handed strike.

It felt as if time had slowed down to a near stop, as Mattias tried to continue his charge.

Petras laughed, one hand on some kind of device, the other hand curling into a fist as the electricity crackled in the power-fist before slamming his fist into Mattias’s rib cage. “You poor, foolish idiot. Do you think that you’re the first abomination to try and lash out?”

Mattias let out a pained whimper as he felt his ribs crack and the electricity set fire to his nerves, still stuck in some strange sort of temporal slowing unable to dodge or attack back. “You… Bastard!” He slowly, agonizingly slowly, staggered towards his helmet, intending on calling out for help. 

In between one moment and the next Petras had somehow snatched up Mattias’ helmet and threw it out of his immediate grabbing distance and struck him with impossible speed, this time striking his back with another electrified punch from the depths of the warp itself “Oh no. I will not let you -”

Mattias heard something snap in his back and he felt the feelings in his legs go numb. His hearts were pounding away so loudly and so swiftly in his ears, his breath rapid and shallow, and yet… His body was so slow to respond. “Bastard!” he hisses, interrupting the other’s rant. There had to be something he could do? They weren’t too far from the rest of the group, so if he yelled loudly enough… They should hear him. Mattias took in as deep of a breath as he could manage and screamed “HELP! HELP ME PLEASE! HE’S TRYING TO KILL ME!”

The sound of his voice seemed to echo strangely off of the trees and bushes and Petras laughed, dark and amused “You poor, naive fool. Do you really think that I would have been so careless as to make sure that they could hear you? I am quite familiar with how far Primaris Marines’ voices can carry. How loud they can be, when they are desperate, sniveling and hoping for a rescue that will not c-”

The sound of several sets of armored footsteps echoed reassuringly back and hope blossomed in his chest, even as Mattias could not stop himself from falling to the ground. He used his hands to catch himself so that he didn’t smash face-first into the ground. “Please… Help!” Mattias called out, forcibly rolling himself so he was face up, yanking his limp legs to help in the movement with his hands. 

Pain continued to blossom around him as Petras continued to hiss and strike at him until Toroz came charging into the clearing, staggering to a halt at the sight before him. “What… What are you doing?” He demanded.

Petras looked over and stated “I am punishing this insolent whelp. He has been incredibly rude to me while out of sight and hearing of you and his other superiors he actually listens to so I am administering the punishment he deserves.”

“Then why was he screaming that you were trying to kill him? Stop hurting him! You know the consensus - if an underling from a different crusade needs punishing, you need to go to their highest ranking Brother, not administer the punishment yourself. Not without permission.” Toroz snapped back, rushing over to Mattias side, blocking Petras’ next strike by grabbing the other’s hand. 

“You have no right to -” Petras hissed, visibly incensed.

“I have every right to intervene. He’s already bleeding and I think you damaged his spine.” Toroz hisses, cutting off Petras mid-rant. “This isn’t the first time that your punishments have clearly gotten out of hand. I’m going to ask the captain to pull the council together to fucking censure your ass. I swear to-”

Petras yanked his hand out of Toroz’ grip and slapped him with the other, growling “You have no right to threaten me! I will have you punished for your cheek. Besides, Brother Sargeant Toroz has been dead for ten years. I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re certainly not him.”

Toroz growled and kicked Petras square in the chest, sending the other flying through the clearing and through a tree, his black and white armor turning to teal and silver. “Get fucked, you stupid bastard. To hell with this assignment, I’m not letting an aspirant get mauled to death by a lunatic in front of me. Come on, hatchling, let’s get you treated.”

“You… You’re teal?” Mattias whimpered, eyes going wide as the older marine walked over, bent down and scooped him up.

“Sure am. Don’t struggle, I am trying to help you. Alpharius’ tits, he’s done a number on you.” Toroz or whatever his name was swore, putting Mattias on his back and sprinting off “Keep talking to me. Yell at me about how much of a low-life I am. Come on, where’s that fiery temper your chapter is so well known for?”

Mattias whimpered again, the jolting pain from the other’s movements causing him increasingly difficulty to breathe “Oww… He said. He said I was an… ‘bomination… Why was he so mean to me? I didn’t do anything wrong? I didn’t not do stuff I was supposed to… Why does he got to be so mean?”

“I don’t know. There’s something deeply wrong with that fucker. But don’t worry I’ll not let him hurt you anymore, hatchling. You just focus on staying awake and keeping breathing.” Toroz ordered him.

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

PART 16 BACK TO PAST MEMORIES

The afternoon had been a whirlwind—full of surprises, chaos, and more surprises. So, when Carlos and Matheo stepped out of the hotel lobby together, both dressed in formal attire, Carlos couldn't help but feel a little on edge. 

“Matheo…” Carlos tilted his head, tugging at the stiff collar of his shirt as he eyed his son. “There have been ‘way’ too many surprises today. Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” 

Matheo grin was as mischievous as ever. “I already told you, Dad—it’s a surprise.” 

Carlos rolled his eyes dramatically. “All right, I wish I am not about to get struck by lightning or something.” 

As they walked towards the entrance of the hotel, Carlos caught sight of Y/N, who was walking out with Mattia. Both were impeccably dressed, though Carlos’s gaze naturally lingered on the Y/N longer than he’d admit. 

The twins exchanged a knowing glance, the kind of secretive look that sent chills down a parent’s spine. Carlos sighed deeply. “This doesn’t feel like it’s going to end well.” 

Y/N approached him, smoothing down her dress. “Hey… any idea what the kids are up to?” 

Carlos shook his head. “No clue. Matheo won’t tell me a thing.” 

Y/N nodded “I see.”

The limo ride that followed was short, yet somehow stretched an eternity in awkward anticipation. Carlos couldn’t shake the feeling that he and Y/N were being set up. By the time they arrived at a port, the confusion on their faces was mutual. 

“Kids…” Carlos stared at the waterfront with raised eyebrows. “Is this where we’re eating?” 

Mattia smirked. “Nope!” 

Matheo pointed towards the dock, where a stunning yacht was illuminated against the evening sky. “That’s where we’re going to have dinner.” 

Carlos’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “The yacht? You’re joking.” 

But they weren’t joking. 

The group made their way onto the boat, Carlos firing questions as quickly as his brain could process what was happening. “Matheo, how exactly are we paying for this?” 

“We gave all our savings,” Matheo said, his tone suspiciously nonchalant. 

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, Theo. Try again.” 

“Well… I call Grandpa Sainz yesterday, he have helped a ‘little’ bit,” Matheo admitted sheepishly. 

“Matheo,” Carlos said, gave his son a pointed look. 

Matheo grinned up at him. “What? It helped a lot.” 

Mattia quickly interjected, tugging on Y/N’s dress. “Come on, Mom. You’re going to love this.” 

The families was ushered inside the yacht, where they stopped at an elegant door. Matheo turned to them with a grin so wide it practically screamed trouble. “Mrs. Y/LN, Mr. Sainz… your dinner is served.” 

The door swung open, revealing a beautifully set table in the middle of the room. Flowers and candles decorated the space, their soft glow reflected in the surrounding windows that overlooked the water. Y/N gasped quietly, clearly impressed by the romantic setup, while Carlos scanned the scene, his eyes narrowing. 

“Uh… kids? There are only two chairs,” he pointed out, gesturing at the table. 

Matheo’s face lit up. “Exactly! That’s part two of the surprise. We’re ‘not’ having dinner with you!” 

Y/N laughed nervously, trying to mask her growing unease. “Oh? And who will be joining us then?” 

Right on cue, Chessy appeared, stepping into the room in an immaculately with a chef form. “Good evening,” she announced, a sly smile playing on her lips. “My name is Chessy, and I’ll be your assistant tonight. Comments, questions, and complaints? Not accepted.” 

Behind her, Martin entered, holding a bottle of wine with an almost angelic smile. “And I, Martin, will be your sommelier this evening. Let’s hope you drink just enough to forget that these two troublemakers roped us into this.” 

Carlos blinked. “Wait. You’re the staff tonight?” 

Chessy shrugged, clearly unfazed by the question. “Mattia, music please.” 

Mattia darted to the corner of the room, hitting play on a small speaker. A soft, romantic ballad filled the space, the melody blending perfectly with the gentle rocking of the yacht. 

“Relax,” Mattia said, his voice brimming with excitement. “Sail through time!” 

“And enjoy the evening,” Matheo added with a dramatic wave of his hand. 

The twins turned to leave, practically skipping out of the room. Y/N and Carlos exchanged hesitant glances, neither daring to speak as the reality of the situation sank in. 

“Well,” Y/N said after a long pause, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is… weird.” 

Carlos groaned, slumping into one of the chairs. “Remind me to ground those two when this is over.” 

But as the soft music played and Martin poured the wine, Carlos couldn’t help but crack a smile. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Chessy watched as the children disappeared from sight, their laughter fading into the distance. She turned to her companions, her brow furrowed. “Have you seen the evil plan?” she asked, her tone suspicious but tinged with humor.

Y/N adjusted the black-colored scarf around her neck, the gesture betraying her nervousness. “Yes, yes,” she muttered, trying to gather her thoughts. “I’m starting to understand what’s happening.”

Carlos glanced around, his eyes landing on a lifebuoy decorated with a familiar name. A flicker of recognition crossed his face. “It’s just like when we first met,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. “The boat, the music...”

“The service,” Chessy added with a smirk.

Y/N, ever the romantic, took in the scene with sincere appreciation. “Everything is... very beautiful,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos turned to Martin with a playful grin. “Martin, would you please accept a drink?” he asked, gesturing toward the bar.

Martin and chessy shared a knowing smile as they obediently took their drinks. Martin gave Chessy a subtle signal, and the two of them quietly slipped away, leaving Carlos and Y/N alone.

As the soft hum of the waves provided a serene backdrop, Carlos leaned against the balcony of the boat. He hesitated for a moment before confessing, “To be honest, I haven’t been on a boat since that time.”

Y/N joined him at the railing, their shoulders almost brushing. “Me neither,” she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability. He avoided Carlos’s gaze, focusing instead on the horizon. But Carlos wasn’t one to shy away. Raising his glass, he proposed, “Well, then, here’s to, uh…”

“Our son,” Y/N interjected quickly, finally meeting Carlos’s eyes.

The sincerity in her voice made Carlos pause, his own glass hovering mid-air. “Our son,” Carlos repeated, clinking his glass against Y/N’s. A small, almost imperceptible smile graced his lips, though it looked more like a grimace born of mixed emotions.

Their moment of connection was abruptly interrupted when Carlos caught sight of their children peeking through the small windows of the cabin doors. As soon as they realized they’d been discovered, the kids ducked out of sight with impressive speed.

Gathering his courage, Carlos turned to face her fully. “Y/N... if we can ever be completely alone, I’d like to talk about what happened between us. Because it ended so quickly.”

Y/N’s expression softened, though a flicker of hesitation lingered. “It started very fast,” she replied, her tone layered with meaning.

Carlos’s signature charming smile returned. “I remember that part very well,” he teased.

Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile, betraying her own memories of their whirlwind beginning.

Meanwhile, Chessy and Martin, who were spying discreetly from a corner, exchanged satisfied glances. “It seems like everything is going well,” Chessy commented, her tone light.

“I think the same,” Martin replied, his eyes still fixed on the couple.

She motioned toward the kitchen. “Come on, we have to serve the appetizers.”

Martin nodded, momentarily flustered by Chessy’s charm. “O-of course,” he stammered, following her.

Back at the table, Y/N and Carlos settled into their seats. Y/N broke the silence first. “So, tell me, Carlos. You’ve done very well in life, haven’t you?” she gestured to the wine bottle. “Your brand is on the rise every day.”

Carlos adjusted his napkin, his expression modest. “And you? I remember your notebooks full of amazing designs. Have you been able to pursue that?”

Y/N smiled, clearly touched that Carlos remembered. “Yes, that’s right. We both fulfilled our dreams, didn’t we?”

Chessy entered with two plates in hand, interrupting the moment. As she set the meals down, Y/N’s mind wandered back to their children. “What are we going to do with them?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Carlos sighed, his fingers tapping against the table. “Well, the two of them have already met. It’ll be impossible to separate them now.”

Y/N pondered for a moment. “I could stay with them for half a year, and you for the other half,” she suggested tentatively.

Chessy, still lingering nearby, shook her head. “Hey... kids can’t go to different schools every year. It wouldn’t make sense.”

Carlos nodded in agreement. “You’re right.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed as she tried to come up with a solution. “Well, I could take them for a full year, and you the next?”

Chessy’s disapproval was evident. “Still not a great idea,” she said bluntly.

Carlos glanced at her, then back at Y/N. Realizing the tension, Chessy quickly excused herself. “Oh... sorry, I’m leaving.”

Y/N couldn't help but let a soft chuckle escape, amused by the small slip-up that had just happened. It was one of those moments that lightened the tension, if only briefly.

"Anyway," Carlos began, attempting to steer the conversation back on track, "that’s why we had our previous agreement."

Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow, her expression equal parts curious and doubtful. "Really? I thought it was because... well, because we didn’t want to be together anymore."

Carlos shifted in his seat, biting his lip as though the memory still stung. "No," he admitted quietly, "it wasn’t both of us."

Y/N leaned back slightly, folding her arms in front of him. "Well," she said, her voice laced with a mix of reflection and mild defensiveness, "that part has gotten a little fuzzy over the years."

Carlos tilted his head, as if deciding how much to push. "Do you remember the day you packed your things?" he asked, his tone gentle but probing.

Y/N hesitated, her brow furrowing in thought. "Yes... but I don’t remember everything about it. I think I hurt you with something I did... that was..." She trailed off, struggling to grasp the specifics.

Carlos’ lips quirked into a bittersweet smile as he helped jog Y/N’ memory. "You threw a plant at me," he reminded her.

Y/N’ cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she let out a self-conscious laugh. "True," she admitted, rubbing her dress. The memory, though distant, still carried a pang of awkwardness.

Carlos leaned forward slightly, his voice softening as he tried to tread carefully. "Y/N, maybe we’ll never have the chance to truly be alone, but I’d really like to talk about what happened between us. Honestly."

Y/N’ gaze sharpened as she rested her chin on her folded hands, giving Carlos her full attention. There was a weight to the air between them, a vulnerability they’d both spent years avoiding.

"Why did you do it?" Carlos asked suddenly, his voice quieter but filled with curiosity and an edge of hurt.

Y/N took a deep breath, the words slow to form. "Ah... Carlos, we were young. We didn’t know what we were doing. We said stupid things. I packed everything, got on the first plane, and left." Her voice wavered slightly as she finally dared to meet Carlos’ eyes, her smile fragile. "And... you didn’t come after me."

Carlos froze, caught off guard by the directness of Y/N’ words. "I didn’t think you wanted me to follow you," he admitted after a pause, his voice tinged with regret.

Y/N wrinkled her nose slightly at the response, a bitter half-smile playing on her lips. "Well, that doesn’t matter anymore," she said, brushing off the lingering ache with practiced ease. "What matters now is figuring this out for our children."

Carlos sighed deeply, the tension between them palpable. "Yes," he agreed, though his voice lacked conviction. " for their sake, we need to figure this out." He broke eye contact, focusing instead on finishing his drink as though it could wash away the uncomfortable emotions.

Y/N noticed the subtle shift in Carlos’ demeanor, the way his shoulders tightened ever so slightly. To distract herself from the growing heaviness in the room, Y/N picked up her spoon and took a small sip of her soup. It was more out of habit than hunger, but it gave her something to do as the silence stretched on, thick and unyielding.

*****

Y/N and Carlos stood at the hotel’s front desk, sorting through their paperwork to finalize the check-out process. Both of them were an odd mix of calm efficiency and subtle tension, their movements synchronized from years of parenting together, yet their silence spoke volumes.

“Mrs. Y/LN, everything is ready,” Martin, her butler, announced, handing Y/N their neatly stacked passports.

Y/N gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Martin. Do you know if Mattia is ready?”

Martin nodded. “I just called him. He shouldn’t be long coming down.”

Satisfied, Y/N turned back to her half-packed suitcase. Without looking at Carlos, she spoke in a measured tone. “So... Mattia will spend Christmas with you.”

Carlos didn’t miss a beat. “And Matheo will spend Easter with you,” he replied smoothly.

Their eyes met briefly, each weighing unspoken words that hovered between them. But before either could say anything more, the soft chime of the elevator broke the moment. Turning toward the sound, they saw their twin sons step out. Y/N and Carlos instantly froze—the boys were dressed identically in pink shirts.

“Mattia, what are you doing dressed like that?” Y/N asked, her voice tinged with confusion and mild annoyance. “We’re leaving for London. You need to change.”

One of the twins crossed his arms, a smug smile playing on his face. “Here’s the thing, Mom. We’ve been talking, and we think we’re being fooled.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Fooled? By who?”

The other twin stepped forward, matching his brother’s stance. “By you and mom. You promised us summer camp. We want to go… together.”

Y/N exchanged a baffled glance with Carlos. “What camp?” Carlos finally asked.

“The one we always go to before school starts,” the first twin clarified, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/N took a deep breath, her patience already wearing thin. “Mattia, this is ridiculous. Go upstairs and change. We’re leaving.”

“Are you sure I’m Mattia?” the boy countered, tilting his head innocently.

Y/N shot him a sharp look. “Of course, I’m sure.”

The other twin piped up, a mischievous glint in his eye. “But it’s hard to be 100% sure, isn’t it?”

Both boys grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos they were causing.

Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kids, this isn’t funny. You’re going to make your mom miss her plane.”

Y/N’s frustration bubbled over. “Mattia!” she snapped.

“Yes?” both boys answered in perfect unison.

Carlos squatted slightly to their eye level, seeing them carefully. After a moment, he pointed to the boy on his right. “You’re Matheo. I’m not mistaken.”

The boy smirked. “Are you sure, Dad? Because it wouldn’t be a good idea to send the wrong child to London again.”

Carlos hesitated, his confidence faltering. He stepped back with a resigned sigh. Y/N threw him an exasperated look, silently pleading for backup, but Carlos simply shrugged, powerless against their twins’ well-executed plan.

“Alright, I have a proposal,” one of the twins declared, stepping forward as if he were brokering a business deal. “Let’s go to Dad’s house, pack everything, and the four of us will go camping together.”

Y/N blinked, completely thrown off. “The four of us?”

“Exactly,” the other twin chimed in. “And when we get back, we’ll tell you who’s Mattia and who’s Matheo.”

Y/N crossed her arms, his patience hanging by a thread. “You’ll do as you’re told. One of you is coming back to London with me, whether you like it or not.” Her voice warned them in an angry mother tone, but the twins were unfazed.

Both boys grinned again, clearly enjoying the chaos they had unleashed. Y/N turned to Carlos, desperate. “You’re their dad! Do something!”

Carlos scratched the back of his neck, suppressing a laugh. “To be fair, this is kind of genius.”

Y/N groaned. “Not helping.”

prev chap

[selfdiagnosedeyemotif]

oh ophilia is NOT gonna take this one well

“...Alfyn?”

The apothecary looked up from his workspace, over at the man laying on his bed. Therion sat up, staring very pointedly at Miguel, who was hovering upside down over the desk. Just a moment earlier, he had been recounting a story from his childhood. Now he was dead (no pun intended) silent.

Therion walked over and glared at Miguel.

“You don’t reckon he can see me, do you?” Miguel asked Alfyn.

“Oh, I can fucking see you all right, and I want want to know why.” Therion crossed his arms, and Alfyn accidentally dropped his pestle onto the desk. “Wh- you can see him-!?” He asked, and Therion nodded. “Just said I could, Medicine Man. Now start explaining.”

Miguel, to his credit, managed to stay calm under Therion's withering glare. “Wish we could, mate, but neither of us know why I’m here. This one was debatin’ telling the Sister, but I reckon she’ll mark him as a nutter the minute he starts to tell her the story.”

“...Miguel. You’re travelling with a member of a certified freak show. We all have ghosts. ...Some more physical than others, but ghosts nonetheless. If Alfyn told Ophilia about you, she’d most likely understand.”

Something flickered on Miguel’s face. “...Did Ophilia ever fight a bloke with brown hair and a blue coat...?”

Alfyn nodded tensely. “Yeah, she did. Mattias, his name was.”

Miguel sighed. “Damn it all... Well, I have good news and bad news, mate.”

Therion raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“Good news: you were right about you lot having ghosts. Bad news: they’re not as metaphorical as you think.”

@chaotic-good-mom-friend

i love Mattias just. being upside down and hanging out. he’s a ghost he gets to be a little silly

ALSO oh god oh fuck what did mattias do what does he mean the ghosts aren’t metaphorical

MAV YOU CANT LEAVE ME ON A CLIFFHANGER LIKE THAT

[puck-luck]

new beginnings | august 19 - 25 (+ epilogue)

hey! whoever thought this day would come! before the chapter, i just wanted to say some thank yous to you all. i am so grateful to each person who has read this series! it was such an undertaking, being over 300K and all, but we did it! we're at the end! i would not have been able to do this without y'all's support and love for characters like honey, bea, the litchton townies, and our boys (who kind of took on a life of their own throughout this story). i want to give a special shoutout to the person who first submitted this idea of tz going feral for a small town girl. you started something that has literally changed my life– before this, i had never completed a book. i would always get bored towards the end and let it die. but now, we've finished it! i'll also give a special shoutout to all the people who helped me out while reading this– looking at pics on pinterest, reading the rough drafts, even just talking about it with me... your influence helped me immensely. i will specifically mention two: cappy and mattias anon, who have left comment after comment and put up with my texts that make everything about stg. they are the real troopers.

i will not wax any more poetics. here it is: the final chapter (+ epilogue) of stg!

85:90 – TREVOR

“Trevvy, baby,” Honey whispers. She traces his nose with a featherlight touch until Trevor wakes. She’s laying in bed next to him, wearing the t-shirt Bea made of him, and Trevor turns into her chest.

It’s so warm there. Trevor groans as the soreness from yesterday seeps back into his bones. He didn’t know that farming would be so much hard work. He’s more sore than he was after his first NTDP practice, which is saying something. 

“I can’t believe I thought I’d be a construction worker if I wasn’t in hockey,” Trevor complains into the space between Honey’s boobs.

She hums and cards her fingers through his hair, planting a kiss on the crown of his head. “I know, baby. You’re built to play hockey and be pretty, not carry heavy things and use your hands.”

Trevor frowns. “I’m okay at using my hands,” he whines. She loves to insult him, even though she’s been known to fall apart on his fingers. He pushes his fingers past Honey’s waistband and goes to prove his point.

“Trevor, we don’t have time,” Honey chastises. 

“Honey,” Trevor patronizes. “We’re not even doing anything today. All we have to do is go to the fruit stand. We have time for me to finger you.”

“You slept ‘til lunch,” Honey says. “I want to get up, I’ve been so bored.”

“I’ll fix it,” Trevor tells her. He kisses her chest, then realizes that he’s kissing the picture of himself on her chest, and pulls back. He picks himself up and moves.

“You just realize that you kissed yourself?” Honey asks.

Trevor looks at her out of the side of his eyes before laying a kiss on the curve of her jaw. “Don’t be mean,” he says.

“Just teasing you, needy boy,” Honey replies. 

She rolls onto her back as Trevor pushes her into the mattress and traps her. His kisses become more consistent, landing in time with her pulse. Trevor won’t even pretend like he’s not the needy boy she claims. “We’ve only got a week, Honey,” Trevor says. “Not even. I wanna fuck you every day to make up for all the time I’ll be away.”

Honey sighs. “Don’t remind me, T.”

“‘ll make you forget,” Trevor mumbles, biting into Honey’s neck and lathing his tongue over the smooth skin. 

“Make me lunch after, too?” Honey asks.

“Mhm,” Trevor agrees. He snaps the band of Honey’s shorts against her hip. “I hate these shorts. We should burn them.”

Honey frowns and wiggles underneath Trevor. “I love them. They’re my favorite.”

“They’re Thomas’ old boxers,” Trevor replies. He pushes them down Honey’s legs, baring her lower half. Once the boxers are around her ankles, Trevor removes them and tosses them far, far away. “Don’t think I didn’t pick that up when you told me they belonged to an old boyfriend. You’ve only had one other than me and I hate him.”

“They’re comfortable and they’re barely even his,” Honey fights back. “I’ve had them for six years. They were brand new when I borrowed them.”

“‘Borrowed,’” Trevor parrots back. “Forever?”

“A fitting price to pay,” Honey says. “You jealous I’m wearing another man’s boxers?”

“Yes,” Trevor admits earnestly. “I want you to wear my boxers to sleep.”

“What will you wear?”

“Nothing.”

Honey snorts. “Lucky me.”

Trevor circles her clit with the pads of his fingers, moving methodically. He breathes in deep, nose nestled in Honey’s neck. “You smell good.”

Honey sighs lightly, humming out a thanks. She lifts her leg and wraps it over Trevor’s hip.

He replaces his fingertips with his thumb and continues circling, swiping the pad of his middle finger through her slick. Her chest rises and falls against his and Honey’s arms circle Trevor’s shoulders. He smiles into her skin and changes the angle of his hand. The heel of his palm covers her swollen bundle of nerves and his first knuckle disappears into her core, suddenly surrounded by warmth and her tight walls.

The sun is shining into Honey’s room, which casts a nice light on her body. Trevor just wishes that she wasn’t wearing a shirt with his face on it. His t-shirt self is staring at him and it’s making him uncomfortable. 

“You need to take your shirt off,” Trevor says.

“No,” Honey drawls. “So unfair. You already told me to take my shorts off because you didn’t like those. You can’t make me take my shirt off because you don’t like it either. Plus, you said that you’d be the naked one, not me.”

“We should both be naked.”

“We can both get naked after you make me come,” Honey bargains. She nudges Trevor’s chin and kisses his lips when he lifts his face. She pecks again and grins. “I’ll spit in your mouth, if you want.”

Trevor flinches back, shocked to his core. “What?” he demands. 

Honey cackles, throwing her head back into the pillow. “Gotcha. You really fell for that.”

“Fuck off,” Trevor groans. “I didn’t know you were that kinky, Honey.” He fits his finger all the way inside of her and curls it, tickling the gummy walls that squeeze him so well.

She clicks her tongue. “There are a lot of things I like that you don’t know about.”

That piques Trevor’s interest. “Tell me,” he says. 

“Not today,” Honey laughs. “I’ve got to keep some secrets to keep you on your toes.”

Trevor whines. “Not fair.”

“I’m thinking I’ll reveal them to you when you’re all the way in Anaheim and I’m still here,” Honey continues. Her hands run down Trevor’s back, then back up his spine. 

He shivers and brings his ring finger to her entrance, taking his time as he fucks into her hole. The two digits flex and twist inside of her, trying to coax the secrets from her mouth now rather than later. 

“That way you’ll get so frustrated over not being able to touch me,” Honey says. “And you’ll regret being so far away, won’t you?”

“When I play in Raleigh, I am going to keep you up all night,” Trevor threatens in a low voice.

“That’s assuming I come,” Honey tells him.

That’s what she said. Trevor lifts his head and eyes his girlfriend.

She hits his shoulder. “Do not fucking say that’s what she said right now, I know you want to.”

Trevor chuckles and lazily connects his lips with Honey’s instead. His fingers scissor inside of her, stretching her entrance until he can push a third past the rim. 

They make out as the minutes tick by. Honey isn’t as concerned with being “late” anymore, it seems. Trevor was right; they’re not doing anything today. He doesn’t know what she was talking about– the fruit stand will be open until the sun goes down. 

Joan told him all about her schedule while they worked on the farm yesterday. She sets up the stand when the store opens at 7, then she packs up once the sun sets. It’s a long day for her, but she gets her best sales on Mondays because of the stand, so she doesn’t mind. Plus, she gets to catch up with people in town and lounge, reading books or completing sudokus while her husband continues to work at the farm. It’s practically a day off work, in Joan’s eyes.

She truly put Trevor to work. He was there for about three hours, picking blackberries and grapes off the vines, lugging cantaloupes from their place resting against the ground to the back of Joan’s wagon that she’d offered to Trevor. He plucked limes, lemons, and peaches from their respective trees. He refused to touch the strawberry plants, lest he saw Honey last night, so Joan had worked on that section of the farm. She’d also picked pears. 

It was nice to hang out on the farm and get to know the lady. She tried to give him some money for his work, but Trevor had waved her off. She’d let him and Earl take that ugly couch from her back porch for free. It was a fair trade. 

Now, the couch sits above Earl’s garage. He’d been surprisingly nimble and strong for an old man. Trevor had gotten winded walking up the stairs before Earl did, but he was on the back end of the couch, so most of the weight was on him anyway. Gravity, and all that. Trevor refuses to be beaten by an old man. 

When he’d complained about being winded while Earl was breathing evenly, Honey had laughed and scratched his back. She told him not to worry, that Earl had lots of experience with manual labor– forty years of it at least– and Trevor shouldn’t feel put out that he was more out of shape than an elderly man. He realized only after that Honey didn’t know why he was hanging out with Earl, but she didn’t ask. If she had, he would’ve told her that he was helping at the hardware store. The lie probably wouldn’t have been believable. Trevor doesn’t even know if the hardware store is open on the weekends– it probably isn’t. Nothing is.

His bicep aches a bit as his fingers work inside of Honey. Her tongue is dainty as it licks into Trevor’s mouth, then retreats, teasing him. He’s still sore, but he’s determined to make Honey come on his fingers. Her hips have started moving against his palm, grinding on his fingers. Trevor lets her.

“Look at you, taking what you need,” Trevor says. He bites his bottom lip and rakes his eyes over Honey’s figure. She’s still in his shirt, so he can’t see the flesh on her chest, but he can see the way her tits heave under the fabric. He can see the way her nipples protrude and rub against the cotton. His eyes land on her neck, watching the column flex and bob as she gasps and speeds up, frantically fucking herself on his fingers. 

A spark passes behind Trevor’s eyes. 

She likes it when I touch her there, Trevor remembers. He hasn’t touched Honey’s neck while they were fucking… ever? Has he? No specific moments come to mind.

She might want to withhold her kinks from him until he’s far away, too far away to touch her– which he knows she’s doing so that she can hear him whine and lament being so far away, because she wants to hear him ramble on about missing her– but Trevor knows this one. 

His fingers squeeze Honey’s waist, pressing into the soft skin before leaving it. His hand traces up her front sensually. Finally, Trevor curls his fingers around her throat. 

Honey’s resulting hum is high-pitched, but confused. Her eyelids lift in a flash, pupils fixing on Trevor’s face, and he would be concerned if not for the frenzied movement that is starting to send an ache through his wrist. 

“I know you like that,” Trevor whispers. He noses Honey’s cheek. “I remember the sound you made when I first kissed you and put my hand right here.” He moves his entire hand quickly, like a pinch, squeezing Honey’s neck for a second then letting go. “I bet you like getting all breathless, huh?”

Honey takes a huge breath in through her nose, head rolling back and revealing all of her throat to Trevor.

A smile crosses his face. “That’s my girl,” Trevor coos. “Come, baby.” He tightens his grip for a few seconds longer, watching Honey tremble. “Come all over my fingers and then we can start our day.”

“Tighter,” Honey breathes out. “Not for too long.”

“Okay,” Trevor agrees, his voice practically inaudible. He obeys, his fingertips curling into her windpipe. The rush of accomplishment doesn’t pass through Trevor because he completes the action of choking Honey, but rather because of the way she relaxes into the touch and lets it happen. Her eyes close again and her face is impassive and serene, mouth open in a quiet moan. That is a huge win for Trevor. When she bears down on his fingers and they overlap each other uncomfortably, Trevor feels the same rush he gets after he scores an OT goal. Honey probably wouldn’t appreciate a celly from him after she finishes coming, but the instinct is there. Trevor loosens his grip on her neck and lets her go, kissing the places where his fingertips were.

Honey snuggles into his side when he draws his fingers, covered in her come, out of her body. The moment is nice and comfortable, but only for a second before Trevor wipes his fingers on his own face adorning her shirt.

“Trevor,” Honey scoffs, rolling away from him and sitting on the edge of the bed. She holds the hem of her shirt away from her body and looks down at it. “You ruined your pretty face, Princess Diana.”

“I think you like that shirt more than you like me,” Trevor tells her.

“Hmm, probably.” Honey stands and walks to her laundry hamper, pulling the shirt over her head like she’s unwrapping a present.

Trevor faux-gasps. “You’re supposed to say, ‘No, Trevor, I love you so much more.’”

“And you are supposed to refrain from wiping cum on my clothes.” Honey plants her hands on her hips. 

Trevor makes himself comfortable on the bed and lays a hand on his stomach, the other cradling the back of his head. He licks his lips. She’s nakey.

Honey rolls her eyes. “This is the problem with you wanting me to be naked all the time,” she scolds. “We will never get anything done.”

“We could get a few things done, I bet,” Trevor replies, snickering when he says it.

Honey doesn’t even crack a smile. She’s back to business. “Would you put some big boy clothes on and wash your hands while I shower?” she asks. “Then you can make me that lunch that you promised.”

Trevor pouts, his bottom lip jutting out as far as he can push it. 

Honey shakes her head fondly and turns away, entering the bathroom and closing the door behind her. 

Trevor lounges in bed for an extra two minutes before swinging his legs forward and getting up. He dresses himself in some short Ducks-branded shorts and a plain black t-shirt. Instead of barging into Honey’s bathroom and and washing his hands there– after peeking behind her shower curtain, of course– Trevor goes downstairs and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. It’s then that he opens her fridge and surveys the options there. There’s plenty for him to cook with, but he’s not confident he’ll prepare any of it particularly well. He’s been known to burn things. Jamie used to get on him about that all the time when they lived together. It’s actually why they climbed onto the roof to eat dinner the first time, so that they could escape the burning smell in the kitchen from Trevor’s charred chicken dinner.

He settles on quesadillas. Honey has chicken that he can throw in a tortilla with cheese, plus some peppers that he can cut up and throw in the saucepan if she doesn’t want to eat them raw. It’ll be a nice meal. 

Trevor burns the first quesadilla. It isn’t a surprise. He’ll eat that one. Honestly, Trevor doesn’t mind the burnt food. He’s gotten used to eating overcooked food.

Honey leaves the shower as he’s finishing up her quesadilla and throwing it on a plate. She comes downstairs and hugs him, standing behind him and gliding her hands underneath his shirt to touch his stomach. 

“Do you want me to sauté these peppers?” Trevor asks.

Honey raises her head and pops up on her tiptoes, looking over his shoulder at the pile of sliced peppers on a plate. “No,” she decides. She pecks the back of Trevor’s neck. “I’ll get some ranch.”

Trevor automatically feels colder when she removes herself from his personal space to grab a half-used bottle of ranch from her fridge. He moves each plate to Honey’s coffee table, taking two trips so he doesn’t accidentally drop any food on the floor. 

Honey sits on the couch, pulling a blanket around her shoulders and crossing her legs. Trevor sits next to her and they start to eat their lunch together. Honey doesn’t have a TV in her living room– come to think of it, Trevor doesn’t think she has a TV at all. He’s never watched television in this house. Anyway– if Honey did have a TV, he’d put something on in the background. Instead, he listens to the rustle of the wind in the trees and the chirping of the birds.

You can’t hear the traffic from Honey’s house. You can’t even hear her neighbors, not that there are any close enough to walk over and ask for a cup of sugar. They’d have to drive. 

“Do you like being alone?” Trevor asks. The question is blunt as it falls from his mouth and Trevor realizes that it sounds rude. He doesn’t mean to say it like that and goes to apologize.

Honey shrugs. “Yeah,” she says. 

“Why?” He’s surprised she didn’t give him a second look for how his first question came out, so Trevor makes a concentrated effort to make this one sound more curious.

She waves a green pepper slice in the air. “It’s nice. I’m not really, like, alone. You know that. I’ve got my friends from Litchton, I’ve got Bea, I’ve got myself, I’m good.”

“I don’t know if I could do it,” Trevor says.

“Being alone?” Honey clarifies. “Hm. I think you could. You just haven’t had the experience with it. I struggled a lot my first few months in Litchton. So did Bea. We were used to a huge city. Charlotte has almost a million people and Litchton has two thousand. Until I moved here, I’d never been in a community that small. Even Myers Park had… 3,500 kids, I think.”

“Myers Park?”

“My high school.” Honey pops the rest of the pepper in her mouth and chews after dipping it in ranch. “I think you’re just used to a big city, babe. It’s, what, 25 miles from Anaheim to LA?”

“Yeah, close enough,” Trevor replies. “26.”

Honey glares at him for a moment. “‘Close enough,’” she mocks. “I was right on the money. Anyway, LA has millions of people and so many things to do. You’re used to that. I think you adapted well to living in Litchton this summer, but you also had six friends here. If it had just been you and– who’s your Bea?”

Trevor shrugs. “Jack, probably. We’re not as close as you two, but he and I are probably the closest.”

Honey laughs. “Okay, imagine you and Jack move to Litchton, just you two. I’m not even here. It’s just you and Jack.” She picks up another pepper. “What do you do?”

“I kill myself within a week,” Trevor deadpans. 

Honey squints at him, pursing her lips judgmentally.

Trevor leans into her space, draping himself over her lap. “I’m kidding,” he tells her. “But I still don’t know if I’d be able to do it.”

Honey brushes his hair out with her fingers. “I guess not. You’re too extroverted. My LA boy.”

“You still hate that I live in California?” Trevor teases.

Honey hums, affirming that she does while she nods. 

“I’ll convince you to like it when you visit.”

“If I visit,” Honey replies. “The hatred for Cali runs deep in my bones, Trevor.”

Trevor rolls his eyes and sits up again, polishing off the rest of his quesadilla. He always eats faster than Honey does. “Are we going to the fruit stand now?”

“Yurr,” Honey confirms. She holds up her quesadilla. “Can I take this in your car?”

Trevor nods. He goes upstairs to grab his keys, wallet, and Honey’s bag. While he was gone, Honey had moved all of their dishes to the sink. 

“I’ll do them later,” she tells Trevor when she joins him by the door.

The drive into town is quiet. Trevor’s hair is getting too long. Honey likes when the windows are down, so they’re down, but the wind is whipping his hair into his face and distracting Trevor from the road. He needs to schedule a hair appointment when he goes back to Bedford to hang out with his family before preseason starts.

They walk hand in hand to the fruit stand. There’s some commotion near the church, which is just visible from the grocery store, and Trevor watches the scene from the corner of his eye. There is a large group of people mingling at the steps of the front entrance– the entrance that Bea never uses, since the parking lot is behind the church, so they just enter through the back door. The front of the church is much more regal than the back. Picturesque.

Honey shops around, handing Trevor piece of fruit after piece of fruit. He bags them all, until the strap over his shoulder is heavy and the mesh fabric is bursting. Trevor tells Honey that they can’t fit anymore, which she frowns at, but concedes. She gives one last longing look at the blackberry cartons before they go to pay Joan.

Joan makes small talk with the duo, telling Honey about how hard Trevor worked the previous day and how helpful it was. 

“I wish I could bring him on every week,” Joan says. “Normally, my husband helps me, but he was able to start prepping the fields for our winter vegetables. We’re seeding tomorrow.”

“It’s a shame he had the idea so late in the summer,” Honey replies.

“I’m sore as can be, Joan,” Trevor complains. “I don’t know if I could do it every week.”

“Well, we’ll see how you feel on Sunday. Would you like to come help me out again? I’d appreciate it.” Joan has a soft smile on her face while she waits for Trevor to respond. He almost feels bad, but there’s no reason for him to. He can’t help that his time is up and he has to decline.

“We’re actually headed out this Saturday,” Trevor says. “So this is the last time you’ll see me for a while.”

Joan’s smile fades. “Well, isn’t that a shame. We’ve enjoyed having you in Litchton this summer, Trevor.”

Trevor’s heart thumps. That’s so nice– Joan expressing that the people in Litchton have accepted him as one of their own and liked having him here. “I’ll be back when I can.”

“No one who comes to Litchton can go very far for very long,” Joan confirms. “I tried when I was y’all’s age, but we all come back eventually.”

“Mr. California,” Honey adds jokingly.

Trevor’s retort disappears when he’s distracted by a cheer near the church. He turns his head, as do the other two, and they watch as a bride and groom burst through the door. The crowd raises their hands and whoops as they descend the steps and the groom dips his bride, kissing her.

Joan chuckles. “The new Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt Hensley,” she says. “Aren’t they just darlin’? Lila’s dress is gorgeous.”

“I didn’t know their wedding was on a Monday,” Honey says. “I guess that makes sense. Didn’t Wyatt’s parents have to come from Texas?”

“Oklahoma,” Joan corrects.

Trevor is still watching the happy couple. The woman looks like Honey. Well, they have the same hair.

“So close,” Honey sighs. “I’m always one off today. Alright– I’ll see you next week, Joan.” She bumps Trevor’s arm. “You gonna say goodbye?”

“We should do that,” Trevor tells her, staring as Wyatt and Lila parade through the group of people towards a car parked on the street.

Honey follows his gaze. “Do what?” she asks.

“Get married,” Trevor explains. The silence that follows is jarring. He turns to Honey to find her staring at him, expression nothing short of aghast. “What?”

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, shaking her head. “Say goodbye to Joan, baby.”

“Oh, yeah,” Trevor says. He looks at Joan and holds his hand out for her to shake. “It was nice to meet you, Joan. Thank you for all the fruit all summer.”

“Thank you for all of the entertainment,” Joan replies. “I’m disappointed I won’t see how this conversation plays out. Have a safe trip home, Trevor.”

“Bye, Joan.” He moves Honey’s bag to his other shoulder and takes her hand. They start to walk toward the car. “So that’s a no to getting married?” he asks after they’ve walked a few hundred feet.

Honey takes another deep breath and holds it briefly before exhaling loudly. “We met three months ago, Trevor. We are not getting married anytime soon.”

Trevor frowns. “Darn.” 

Honey scoffs, starting to laugh. “God, you’re weird. This is why I’m always telling you to think before you speak.”

Trevor exaggerates an eye roll, starting to laugh to himself. It really was a crazy thing to say. “So you don’t want to marry me?” he demands, pretending to be upset. “So you hate me.”

Honey laughs louder. “Stop,” she tells him. “We are not having this conversation now. Plus, we’re too young to get married. Maybe if you were a military guy and I was a ‘ring-by-spring’ girl, we could talk about that, but I’m not getting married for at least four more years. How ‘bout you see if you can stand me that long before you ask again?”

Trevor grumbles under his breath, but really, he’s pleased. Four years, and then he can propose? No problem– with the way hockey season passes, the years will go by in a flash. He’s pretty certain they’ll make it.

86:90 – HONEY

They’re two hours from closing time when Honey decides that she can no longer ignore Bea’s attitude. The girl seems to be in a funk and Honey has a feeling that she knows why. Bea hasn’t been willing to listen to Honey’s opinion before now, but things could be different now that she’s moping around like a wet cat. 

Her attitude isn’t actually all that bad. Aside from not wanting to do any actual work and showing up two hours late, Bea’s been mostly normal. The only difference is that she’s quiet and lazier than usual. 

Honey finds her laying on the beanbag chairs in the cozier section of their store. There’s no one in the Nook right now and Ada is sitting behind the cash register, doing a crossword. Honey is free to lay with Bea until they hear the twinkle of the bell attached to the front door. 

“What’s wrong?” Honey asks. She sits on the bag next to Bea, looking down at the girl.

Bea shifts her eyes to the side, not bothering to move her head to look at Honey. “You know what’s wrong,” she answers.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Honey reaches over and fixes Bea’s shirt sleeve.

The girl throws her arm over her face and hides in the crook of her elbow. “I don’t know.”

Honey nods to herself and slides down the beanbag chair until she’s reclining. Her head rests against the bottom shelf of the bookcase and her feet are planted against the ground, knees toward the sky. She reaches her hand above her head and pulls a random book from the shelves, setting it against her thighs and opening it. She reads 38 pages of the historical fiction novel, set in 1580s England, before Bea speaks again.

“I feel like a stupid moron-idiot,” Bea nearly growls. The ‘t’ on ‘idiot’ is sharp coming from her mouth. She throws her arms down by her sides and Honey has to press her lips together to prevent a laugh from escaping. Bea looks like she just got petrificus totalus’ed. “I don’t like it here!”

“Okay, well, you’re not a stupid moron-idiot,” Honey tells her. “I’d say so if you were.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bea snaps. She narrows her eyes at Honey in annoyance. She sighs. “It’s just like… what the hell am I doing, you know?”

Honey prompts Bea to go on with a single hummed note. She closes the book she was reading.

Bea lifts her hands and talks with them while she explains– or tries to. “I don’t, like, ugh. Obviously, I know this isn’t– but I feel like…” she pauses, her fingers curling into half-formed fists. She whines in the back of her throat, frustrated. “This is so fucking stupid. I can’t even fucking explain myself.”

“Watch your language,” Honey murmurs, throwing a look over at Ada. The old woman hasn’t looked up yet, but if Bea continues to lean into this frustration, she’ll only start to swear more often and at a higher volume. 

Bea covers her face with flat palms and scrubs them up and down her skin. “I have never been the person to care, you know? Yeah, I go out with people, I have my fun, I have my friends, but I don’t ca-a-are,” she exaggerates the last word and shakes her hands out in front of her in time with it. Honey imagines she’s holding Christmas bells and has to stifle another giggle. 

This is serious. Not the time for an intrusive imagination.

“And now I’m out here caring! What is with that?” Bea exclaims.

“Well, I think it’s a good sign,” Honey says. “At least we know you have the capacity for romantic feelings now.”

Bea huffs indignantly. “We’ve always known that,” she sneers.

“Having a crush and actually loving someone are two different things,” Honey points out.

“Fuck off,” Bea replies.

Honey allows herself to giggle this time and shrugs. “I don’t know, Bea. I mean, it’s the first time you’ve felt like this. Do you really want to give it up?”

“No, I’m not sure, Honey, and that’s the fucking problem!”

The words explode out of Bea’s mouth and Honey physically draws her head back in surprise. “Wow,” she says.

Bea covers her face again. “I’m sorry. That was unnecessary. I’m just…”

“Frustrated,” Honey supplies. Bea shakes her head. “Confused?”

“Annoyed,” Bea corrects. She rolls her eyes, most likely at herself, and goes boneless on the beanbag. “I am practically at war with myself and it’s making me angry. So I would say that I’m more annoyed than frustrated or confused.”

“What are you fighting over?” Honey asks.

“I need to break up with him but I don’t want to break up with him,” Bea states. “That’s literally it.”

“Okay, so don’t break up with him if you don’t want to,” Honey says. “You guys can work through it. Quinn would be ecstatic to be all domestic and partner-y with you outside of the summer.”

Bea groans out loud. “I know,” she drawls. “But you don’t get it. I don’t expect you to, and I can’t explain it well, but I need to break up with him.”

“Why?”

“He’s not in my future,” Bea says. 

Honey blinks. It’s a simple and cryptic statement. Since when could Bea tell the future?

“It’s not fortune-telling, it’s logic,” Bea continues once she sees the look on Honey’s face. “I don’t see this ending positively if we continue dating outside of Litchton. He’ll go to hockey, I’ll stay here, our communication will diminish because he’s busy, I’ll get touchy and bitchy because I want attention, and then it all blows up and we break up and it’s a thousand times worse than ending it here.”

“How do you know that will happen?” Honey asks. “It sounds like a bunch of what-ifs to me.”

“I’m not emotionally mature enough for a relationship where my boyfriend ignores me eight or nine months of the year and then is all over me for the other three. The whiplash will be insane. If he played in Raleigh, or we lived closer to Vancouver, it would be different.”

It once again hits Honey that Bea has thought this through and won’t change her mind. She says everything so resolutely and has an answer for each of Honey’s remarks. Honey’s words can’t penetrate the iron armor of Bea’s decision and Bea’s explanations can’t seem to wade through the foggy confusion in Honey’s mind. They’re so different.

“I don’t know,” Bea resigns with a shrug. “Our lives are so different and he’s so far away. I think it would have been nice, and Quinn is damn near perfect, but my future isn’t with Quinn.” She shakes her head, breathing a laugh out of her nose in a self-deprecating way. “Is your future with Trevor?”

“Yes,” Honey decides. She means it.

Bea blinks and recoils in surprise, much like Honey did when Bea raised her voice. “Your future is with Trevor,” she repeats. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Honey replies. She thinks about how he genuinely suggested getting married yesterday, which was absurd, but didn’t feel wrong. When she was with Thomas, she knew that there was going to be someone after him. He wasn’t the end-all, be-all. Her gut is telling her that there’s nothing after Trevor. “Yeah. He’s– yes. My future is with Trevor.”

Bea looks at Honey until a prickle of discomfort starts to rise on Honey’s neck. She breathes out in relief when Bea looks away. She couldn’t read the look in Bea’s eyes, which increased the discomfort tenfold. Honey did not like what she saw. 

And she doesn’t think Bea’s eventual reaction matches the stare.

“Good for you,” Bea says. Her words seem shallow, brimming with surface-level congratulations. The layer of joy for Honey seems very thin. Honey doubts it’s because Bea disagrees with Honey’s decision. She thinks it’s because Bea still doesn’t know how to feel about her own.

The bell rings and Honey hears Ada greet a customer. She doesn’t want to leave Bea like this, but one of them has to work, and Bea doesn’t seem up for it. Honey understands that feeling better now.

She takes Bea’s hand and squeezes it tightly, then lets go. 

The encounter with her best friend stays on her mind long after they’ve closed the store. She invites Bea to come back to her place for dinner, which the girl accepts, but then they end up talking a little bit more and not making dinner at all. 

It’s hard to talk about this. Bea tries to explain her stance a little bit more, but she can’t find the words and Honey finds it harder and harder to read her mind with each suggestion that Bea turns down. Honey is doing her best to fill in the gaps, but for the first time in their lives, she and Bea are not even close to being on the same page. Usually, they can find some middle ground. This time, Honey feels like they’re throwing paper airplanes at each other over a canyon.

Bea leaves her house without eating dinner, after standing up and shaking out her body in an almost-violent wave that has Honey furrowing her eyebrows. “It seems like this is going against every instinct you have,” Honey wants to say, but Bea says “It’s now or never” and leaves before Honey can get the words out. 

Overall, it hasn’t been a great day. She feels drained right alongside Bea, trying to share the load as best she can without fully understanding Bea’s plight. It’s terrible.

So when Trevor shows up at Honey’s door half an hour after Bea leaves, his presence is a welcome distraction from the weight on her shoulders.

There’s still weight. Of course there is. The difference is that this replacement weight is physical– Honey is being crushed under the weight of her boyfriend as she tries to read her book in the dying summer light. She wants to finish this one before she goes back and borrows the one she started this afternoon while sitting with Bea. Honey isn’t usually one for period pieces– that’s Bea’s thing– but this one seemed cool.

Trevor might be sleeping, for all Honey knows. She’s twirling a strand of his hair around her fingers, other hand holding her book in the air, and Trevor is breathing evenly in her ear. His mouth is pressed against her jaw and their legs are intertwined. His arms are wrapped around her middle, hips squarely in line with hers. 

He’d sat on the counter while Honey made her own dinner, refusing his offer to cook for her since she already has a bad taste in her mouth from Bea’s problems. He had stolen some of her food off of the plate while she ate, talking all about how, today, he and the guys had to break down the makeshift rink they built for the summer. He and Quinn had done most of the work building the rink and he and Quinn had done most of the work tearing it down. The most Luke, Jack, and Cole did was stack the wood for a bonfire. Trevor knows that Earl won’t take it back.

His impression of the elderly man had been surprisingly spot-on. “Boy, you better not’a come up in here tryin’ to return old wood,” Trevor had mocked in a thick southern accent. “I’m not a bank! I don’t give out loans.”

Trevor had done the dishes this time after Honey was finished eating. She’d reclined on the couch while he did so, head resting on the throw pillow propped against the arm of the couch, and cracked her book open.

When Trevor joined her, he’d crawled under her arms and kissed her lips before tucking his head to the side. That’s how they got to where they are now. Honey only has about fifty pages left of her book, but she has a feeling she won’t make it to the end. Her boyfriend, in the last five pages or so that she’s read, has started nuzzling her neck. 

“You’re distracting me,” Honey says. She turns to the next page, then back because she realized that she skimmed the last paragraph and didn’t actually read it. It’s further proof that Trevor is taking her attention away from the book in her hands.

“I’m bored,” Trevor mumbles against Honey’s skin. “Let’s make out.”

Honey pretends to think about it for a minute, humming and looking up to the ceiling. 

Trevor does his best to convince her, kissing and licking up her neck until he makes it to her lips. “Puh-lease,” he begs in a sarcastic voice, pouting at Honey. He looks like a puppy asking for human food and Honey laughs.

She sets her bookmark between the pages and closes the book, stretching to place it on the coffee table. Trevor doesn’t let her move much. Honey cocks her head to the side, matching Trevor’s pout. She cradles his face.

Trevor’s pout breaks into a smile and he leans forward, catching her bottom lip and claiming it. The kiss starts soft and insistent, barely demanding anything from Honey at all. Between kisses, he touches her sides and sends sparks up her body. Her lips part and Trevor’s tongue explores Honey’s mouth. She breaks from him and laughs when he tries to roll his ‘R’ like he’s in Spanish class, but inside her mouth. He must have thought it would make a fun movement of their tongues, but Honey has to push him away for all of five minutes while she catches her breath.

He can’t kiss her again for another ten without more giggles spewing from Honey’s body. 

Trevor nips at Honey’s bottom lip playfully, then her own teeth tug gently on his lower lip in return. 

Honey is pliant beneath Trevor, the kiss both intimate and lazy and filthy and plundering. She could stay in his arms, pressed into the cushions of her comfy couch and lost in the drugging sweetness of his kisses, forever. The rest of the world fell away when she was kissing him, until Honey’s front door swings open and hits the wall next to it.

The couple separates, although Trevor is still laying on top of Honey. He lifts himself up just enough to look over the back of the couch, at the person attached to the pair of stomping feet approaching them. Honey doesn’t have to look to know who it is. She recognizes Bea’s footsteps well.

“Get out,” Bea announces in a grave, serious, and stern voice.

She really did it, then, Honey thinks to herself, equal parts impressed and sad for Bea. It’s no wonder she doesn’t want Trevor here, especially not on top of Honey and making out with her like a bad reminder.

Honey places her hands on Trevor’s chest and starts to push him off, but has to shift her focus when Trevor starts to fight back, like he always does.

“What stick got shoved up your ass today?” Trevor snaps. 

“Get out,” Bea repeats.

“Trevor,” Honey jumps in, tapping his collarbone insistently.

Trevor eyes fall, not so far as to find Honey, but just to Bea’s midsection. “What is that?” he asks. “You brought a toy with you? Is that the stupid cow that Quinn wouldn’t let Jack cuddle when he found it earlier?”

Honey grinds her teeth together and covers Trevor’s mouth with both of her hands. “Shut up,” she hisses. 

His words have done enough damage. Bea pulls the coffee table out of the way and steps up to the couch, whacking Trevor with Moo-Moo and the flat of her other hand over and over, trying to make solid contact with his twisting body. He’s laughing, because clearly he thinks this is a joke, but Honey doesn’t find it funny at all. Neither does Bea, whose eyes are red, puffy and seething with ire and a fresh layer of mist.

“I hate you,” she tells him with absolute conviction. “You have absolutely no empathy for anyone ever and if you paid attention for more than two seconds, you’d realize that today is not the day to be a cunt to me, Trevor!”

“You’re fucking insane,” Trevor responds, curling up into a ball and hiding behind Honey as she sits up.

Honey catches Bea’s hands and holds them tightly. “Stop,” Honey says. “Stop. I know you’re upset, but stop it.”

“He started it,” Bea deflects tearfully.

“Baby, you told him to get out instead of asking him to leave,” Honey replies, tilting her head knowingly at Bea.

The girl’s bottom lip wobbles and her chest starts to lurch. “I don’t want him here,” she says through gulping breaths. “I need you to stay with me. Alone.”

Trevor has noticed Bea’s state and reacts with the appropriate awkwardness. “Shit,” he acknowledges. 

Bea squeezes her eyes shut and sobs, curling in on herself.

Honey stands and wraps her in a hug, one arm wrapped around Bea’s ribcage and other hand cradling the back of her head. Bea cries into her shoulder, arms locked around Honey’s body. She’s still clutching Moo-Moo’s ear between her fingers, a nervous habit that Honey hasn’t seen since they were in their tweens. 

“Trev, sweetheart, you should go,” Honey says softly. “Please.”

He rises from the couch and touches the base of Honey’s spine. “Sorry, Bea,” he tries. Honey can see that he wants to pat her on the arm, but she shakes her head and he refrains. “I hope you’re okay.”

It’s a really awkward goodbye from Trevor, understandably so, and Honey feels terrible as Bea continues to cry. Honey gets her upstairs and into her bed, which they’ve shared for plenty of Honey’s freakouts, but it feels so much different this time.

Honey positions Moo-Moo so that he’s right under Bea’s nose and his fur is touching her lips. She brushes Bea’s hair out of her face and wipes a little bit of the mascara off of her eyelids. “I’m sorry you had to do this,” Honey whispers. “It sucks.”

Bea hiccups. “It’s for the best,” she manages shakily. “I’d be ten times worse if this happened after… everything I tried to explain earlier.”

Long distance, Quinn’s laser-focus on hockey, Bea’s self-admitted need for attention, the way all of those things will compound until they hate each other and breakup in a much bigger blowout. Those are the bits Honey understood. It’s how Bea got from one point to the other, with all of those assumptions, that Honey didn’t quite get. 

“He thought I would change my mind because you and Trevor are staying together,” Bea adds in a miserable voice. 

Honey feels a flare of anger rise up in her throat. They’ve experienced this before– people always assume that she and Bea do the same thing, together, all the time. They’re best friends, but they’re not clones of each other. It’s their shared pet peeve– which doesn’t actually disprove the statement that they’re the same.

“He said he’d buy me an apartment in Vancouver.” A fresh round of sobs leaves Bea and she wipes them on the top of Moo-Moo’s head. “It’s like– I can’t uproot my life just for him,” she says desperately, as if she has to explain it to Honey. She feels the same way Bea does. Moving across the country with her boyfriend of three months (unofficially) would be a mistake. “He didn’t get it. He didn’t get it.”

Honey closes her eyes and touches her forehead to Bea’s. 

“I explained it to him at the beginning of the summer and he agreed,” Bea reminds herself more than Honey. “And I can’t, I can’t–”

“I know,” Honey murmurs. “Shh, it’s okay.”

Bea heaves in Honey’s arms and soaks her spare pillow with tears. Honey watches her, stroking her cheek and her arm and wiping her running nose with tissue after tissue. It’s hard. Bea used to do the same thing for her, countless times over, and Honey feels dreadful. Bea shouldn’t ever look like this or feel like this. Honey would do anything to change it.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats.

Bea takes a shaky breath, then another. “It felt like he didn’t understand me,” Bea explains in a far-away voice with a mournful frown. “I thought he knew.”

“Oh, sweet girl,” Honey sighs. “He was just hoping something would change.”

“Then he didn’t listen when I told him nothing would,” Bea sniffs. She averts her gaze from Honey’s eyes, down to the space between them. She sniffs again. “Is that Puppy?”

Honey looks down. Her monkey is between them, left on the middle of the bed when Trevor made a scene of returning him to his rightful owner. He did not return the Ducks shirt that magically appeared in her dresser drawer in Charlotte. “Yeah.”

Bea scrunches her face in confusion and breathes out either a laugh or a fresh set of tears– but she’s cried dry, so nothing appears. “Did he become sentient and walk here?” she implores, disbelieving. 

Honey almost laughs in relief at the change in subject. She knows Bea well enough to know that she’s deflecting and moving on because she doesn’t want to cry over her breakup anymore. They’ll come back to it another day, when she’s processed it a bit more. “Trevor and I went to see my parents.”

Bea is silent, mouth open in pure betrayal. “What the hell else have you been keeping from me?” she wails dramatically. “Are you moving to Cali?”

“No,” Honey exclaims. She laughs out loud. “I am not moving to California.”

“Good, ‘cause the West Coast is not the best coast,” Bea asserts stubbornly. 

“Have you eaten?” Honey asks.

Bea’s expression immediately turns into a scowl. She hates when Honey asks that, taking it as a personal attack and an insinuation that she can’t take care of herself. “No.”

At least she’s honest. “Stay right there,” Honey says. “I’m going to go make you something quick. You need to eat.” She kicks off the covers and shoves her feet into her slippers, padding across the floor.

“Make me a water bottle too,” Bea bosses in a grumble. “I feel like a raisin.”

She’ll be okay. Honey is sure of it. Even if Bea isn’t, Honey will be around.

87:90 – TREVOR

i’m sorry i attacked u. that was mean. can i come over later to apologize for real? Bea asks through text message. 

Trevor can’t shake the image of Bea crying in Honey’s arms from his mind. He still feels guilty about how he had provoked her and completely misread the room. It’s their thing, making fun of each other and being each other’s number one hater. Trevor hadn’t known that Bea would be so touchy yesterday.

Honey is coming over at 7 to help me pack

i know. i’ll drive her there and u can drive her to work toma

You won’t stay over?

Bea doesn’t respond to that one– not for another few hours. She texts once Trevor is finishing up his last load of laundry. He’s choosing which clothes he’ll keep out for the next few days when his phone vibrates.

i’ll explain later.

It’s a resolute answer that confuses Trevor. He moves his laundry into a massive pile on his bed so that he actually gets it done before he goes to bed, then leaves the room. He’ll do it when Honey gets here. He wants to prolong their time together, so he’ll fold and she’ll pack. She likes organizational things like that. Three weeks ago, the same day she accidentally called him her boyfriend, Trevor watched Honey take all of her books off of her bookshelves and reorder them accordingly. He doesn’t know her system. He does know, however, that she was very content with the repetitive action. There was a little smile on her face the whole time.

Trevor walks downstairs and finds the main level empty. He goes down the next flight and finds the boys. None of them have even started to pack, which is annoying because they still have to clean the rental house on Friday. At this rate, it’ll fall to Trevor to clean because all the guys are trying to locate their things. Cole will be trying to save his clothes from being stolen by the Hughes brothers, who just scoop up all the laundry as if it’s theirs. Trevor supposes that’s what happens when they share the Michigan house– he wouldn’t be surprised if the spare bedroom had been turned into a joint-closet in the time since he’s visited.

Luke and Cole are playing ping-pong and yelling at each other. Jack and Quinn are laying across the two couches, each with a book in their hand. Trevor almost wants to tease them for coexisting so peacefully, but he plops down on the recliner instead. He snatches the remote and turns the TV on, enduring Quinn’s side eye as he disturbs the quiet surrounding the seating area. 

“The girls are coming over in a bit,” Trevor announces to the group. 

He doesn’t miss how Jack’s eyes lift towards Quinn. Or how Quinn shifts on the couch. Or how the ping pong ball goes clattering to the floor and Cole sings, “Another point for me.”

“Honey’s going to help me pack,” Trevor adds. “You guys should really start packing, too.”

“Don’t be a killjoy, Z. We’ll get to it,” Jack says. “We’re enjoying the time we have left.”

Trevor pauses, gawking at the irony of the words. “You’re the one who didn’t want to come here in the first place,” he points out.

Jack just shrugs and flicks to the next page in his book. He adjusts the baseball cap on his head. “I changed my mind.”

“So you want to come back next year?” Trevor asks.

Jack curls his lip. “No. Not for the whole summer. I’d like to spend my free time in the house I own, thanks.” He reaches his leg toward the other sofa blindly and kicks Quinn. “Right, Q-Ball?”

“Yeah,” Quinn says shortly.

Trevor hasn’t heard his voice sound as curt as this in a long time. He leaves it alone, turning back to face the television and focusing on the episode of The Office that seemed to magically appear, as if this TV has memorized Jack’s watching habits. 

Luke and Cole sit on the big couch after their game of ping-pong ends. Luke puts his arms over the back of it, stretching his long limbs out over Quinn’s shoulders. Cole kicks his feet up on the coffee table and laughs at most of the jokes coming from the television over the next two episodes.

The day passed by quickly with all the laundry Trevor did. It doesn’t surprise him when he hears the front door open in the distance and two pairs of footsteps crossing the floor above them. 

“Hello?” Honey calls, stopping halfway down the basement steps and waving. “Nobody greets their guests at the door anymore?”

Trevor’s face splits with a smile and he laughs. He stands and walks toward Honey. Cole immediately takes his seat in the recliner.

“Hey, baby,” Trevor says. He climbs the first few steps and kisses Honey briefly. “You ready to pack up some laundry?”

“Is it ready to pack or is it in a pile on your bed?” Honey responds.

Trevor doesn’t answer, just looking at Honey knowingly.

She rolls her eyes and pats his chest firmly. “You’re the worst. I’ll go start folding while you talk to Bea.” Honey looks around Trevor’s body. “You okay, Q?”

Quinn hums. Trevor catches the tail end of a shrug when he looks in the boy’s direction. 

“Ask me how I am,” Cole chirps.

Honey’s thoughtful bite of her lower lip after Quinn’s response disappears after Cole’s input. She chuckles. “How are you, Cole?”

“Never better,” Cole brags. “Just won another game of ping-pong against the big guy.”

“By two points,” Luke jumps in. “It wasn’t that impressive. We were neck-in-neck for ages.”

“Well, you’ll get him next time, Lukey. Good job, Cole.” Honey slides her hand into Trevor’s. “C’mon, Trev. We’ve got chores to do.”

“Will you guys be here for long?” Jack asks. “Tell Bea to come down.”

“She has stuff to do tonight,” Honey lies. She tries to keep her face impassive, but Trevor knows that Bea never has anything to do unless she’s hanging out with Quinn. 

The fact that Quinn hasn’t moved at all from the couch since Bea got here is suspicious. 

Oh my God, they broke up, Trevor realizes suddenly. Oh my God. He stares at Quinn. The dark circles under his eyes make sense now.

“Come on, Trev.” Honey tugs his hand and leads him upstairs. Trevor is still looking at Quinn, scrutinizing him until Honey drags Trevor out of sight.

“What happened?” Trevor asks. He pads after Honey, entering the kitchen.

“Talk to Bea,” Honey replies. She brings a hand to Trevor’s jaw and kisses him softly on the lips. “I have to go do the laundry you left for me while you do. You’re a terrible boyfriend.”

“I’m not,” Trevor whines. “I wanted to fold them together.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Honey tells him, only a slight air of sarcasm in her voice. “But you have to make up with Bea. I’ll meet you upstairs when you’re done. It shouldn’t take long.”

Trevor doesn’t dare sigh out loud, not when Bea or Honey could hear him. He agreed to this, but the thing is, Bea doesn’t need to apologize to him. It wasn’t a big deal. Now that Trevor thinks she and Quinn broke up, he thinks that he should be apologizing. Not that he will. Unless he feels like it in the moment.

He turns away from the stairs and looks for Bea, scanning the room. She’s nowhere to be found. Surely Honey would’ve brought him in here because this is where Bea is. Maybe she chickened out and couldn’t stand to be in the house, so she left.

“Over here,” she says, lifting her arm into the air. She’s laying on the couch in the living room, the one that they rarely ever use. 

Trevor rounds the couch and finds Bea laying there in a tank top and jean shorts, very reminiscent of Honey’s style. He supposes it makes sense– she probably stayed the night with Honey last night. Her hair is up in a bun, also like Honey. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Bea echos. She rolls partially off of the sofa and reaches for her bag in a half-assed way, waving her arm four times before snagging one of the handles and pulling it into her space. “I brought you a treat.”

Trevor sits on the ottoman near the fireplace. “Oh, yeah? What kind of treat?”

“Peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.” Bea pulls a tupperware out of the bag and underhand-tosses it to Trevor. “I need the container back when you guys leave. It’s from the Nook.”

“I’ll wash it tonight and give it to Honey so she can bring it back to work tomorrow,” Trevor says. “You didn’t have to make me cookies.”

“Well, I’m bad at apologies, so I wanted to make a gesture,” Bea says. 

Trevor feels sheepish all of a sudden. “You don’t have to apologize either,” he tells her with a grimace. “I didn’t realize you were having a bad day and I probably shouldn’t have poked the bear.”

Bea talks over him as he stumbles through the last part of his statement. “I do have to apologize. It seems like you’re going to be around for a long time, Trevor, and I don’t want us to be at odds.” 

A blossom of pride blooms in Trevor’s chest when Bea admits to him being around for a long time– absolutely he’ll be around for a long time. His relationship with Honey won’t be ending anytime soon. 

“It wasn’t cool of me to hit you and yell at you,” Bea continues. “You definitely weren’t nice, but I wasn’t any better.”

“That’s kind of what we do, though,” Trevor says. “Bicker.”

“Not like that.” Bea shakes her head. “I should’ve had more control over myself, so I’m sorry. I know you didn’t really mean to make a bad day worse.”

“What happened?” Trevor asks. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Bea takes a deep breath and looks away from Trevor. She stares at the ceiling and a thick silence settles between them. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Bea glares at him out of the side of her eye. That’s back to normal. “Obviously I’m going to tell you Trevor, but I am once again asking you to wait two seconds.”

Trevor looks at his fingernails and picks at his cuticles. “It’s been two seconds,” he grumbles. 

“You are so lucky that Honey is patient with you, I would be swinging on you in a second if I was her,” Bea argues back.

“Right back at’cha,” Trevor bites.

Bea pauses. She eyes him, then looks back to the ceiling. “We broke up,” Bea says with a shrug. “It didn’t go like I wanted it to. It didn’t go like Quinn wanted it to. It was a bad day.”

Trevor doesn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

Bea looks at him, an incredulous squint adorning her face. Then, she snorts and laughs. “Okay,” she says. “Don’t go getting all sappy on me, Trevor.”

“Breakups suck,” Trevor says with a shrug. He’s not being sappy. He’s relating to Bea.

“I might’ve yelled at you for your shit empathy yesterday, but you really don’t have to do all that,” Bea snickers. “I don’t really want you to feel for me, Trevor. I’m happy with our relationship as is. You fight with me like Cece and Trix do.”

“Are you saying I’m a girl?” Trevor asks, making a joke of her sentence. It’s pretty nice, actually, to be compared to one of Bea’s siblings. It makes sense, considering how they fight. It’s how Trevor fights with Griffin and Ava.

Bea taps her chin and purses her lips. “Well, if the glass slipper fits.”

Trevor makes a face at Bea and stands up. “You think you’re funny.”

“I know I am.” She sticks her tongue out at Trevor and sits up, grabbing her bag and hoisting herself off of the comfy furniture. 

“Are you leaving?” Trevor asks when Bea follows him to the steps, toward the front of the house.

“Yep,” Bea confirms. “I can’t very well… stay the night, or anything.” She laughs self-deprecatingly and shifts her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though. We’re supposed to get dinner altogether. Did Honey tell you that yet?”

“No,” Trevor says.

“Well, we are. Tell the boys. We’re going to Mexico and having tacos and margs.” Bea opens the door and slips through. “Have fun with Honey.”

Trevor nods and heads upstairs, walking down the hallway into his bedroom. When he pushes the door open, the pile of laundry on his bed has shrunk drastically, thanks to Honey’s dutiful work. 

“How many loads did you do?” Honey asks as soon as he walks inside. 

“Like three,” Trevor says. “Three and a half.”

“I can’t believe you brought that many clothes for one summer,” Honey says. “I don’t know if I have enough clothes for three and a half loads. Maybe if I was doing my delicates and whites and colors separate.”

Trevor hums and takes his spot next to Honey. When she bends forward to grab another shirt to fold, he slaps her ass playfully. She stole a pair of his boxers, to Trevor’s delight. 

Honey rolls her eyes. “Can we get your laundry done before you start getting distracted by my body?”

Trevor scrunches up his face and pretends to cry, wrapping his arms around Honey’s shoulders and burying his face in her hair. 

“Stop being dramatic,” Honey chastizes. “Pick up a shirt and fold it or I’m going to make you do this all by yourself.”

Trevor is quick to get a move on after that. He fully believes Honey will make him do the chores all by himself. It’s not that he’s incapable, but he wants to do it together. It’s embarrassing how much Trevor likes the idea of folding laundry together, like they share a house and do their laundry together. Maybe next summer they will. Trevor could move in with Honey if she lets him. If she says no, Earl offered the apartment above his garage on Sunday, which might be the closest Trevor will ever come to hearing Earl outright tell Trevor that he likes him. 

He’s two for two. Both Earl and Honey did everything they could to remain grumpy and detached when it comes to Trevor, and look at how that changed. He’s just impressively charismatic.

When Honey asks what Trevor is smiling about, and he repeats his thoughts to her, she snaps a t-shirt at his thigh. 

She loves him. Definitely.

88:90 – HONEY

“Would you get us another round, Luce?” Honey asks, looking up at the dark-haired girl who has worked at Mexico since her family bought the building in her childhood. She clasps her hands together in praying fashion. “Then we’ll be done. I promise.”

“Scout’s honor, Luce,” Bea vows with a big smile. 

“You guys have already been overserved,” Lucía replies with a frown. “You know I don’t care, but my dad worries.”

“Quinn is driving,” Bea says. “Don’t worry. Tell Carlos that he doesn’t have to worry about us and that his Mole Poblano is perfect. He should never change the recipe.”

Lucía laughs. “Yeah, he’ll love that. You know how to work the system. So we’ve got beers for the boys now? Or are y’all still pounding margs like the girls?”

“I’m stickin’ with a marg, dude,” Cole declares. He runs his tongue over the salt rim and smacks his lips, smiling widely at their waitress. 

The Hughes boys decide to switch it up to a beer, as does Trevor. A nice, refreshing beer with a little lime doesn’t seem bad to Honey right now, but she’ll probably have to drink beer at the surprise party. Earl was in charge of the drinks and swore he’d buy enough for everyone they invited, but Honey isn’t certain he knows just how much beer the town can drink during a party. Luckily, Sarah is bringing her trailer-bar in case Earl underestimates things. At least there will be one experienced drinker and party-planner in Trevor’s backyard.

Bea orders another strawberry margarita, Cole orders a normal lime one, and Honey orders a mango-flavored marg, but her mind is elsewhere. The ladies swore on Tuesday that they have planned enough parties in their time to set this one up without Honey’s supervision. 

There are so many things that could go wrong. The alcohol was supposed to take the edge off. Honey wishes she was at the house and she’d left the dinner to Bea. That was the original plan, before the breakup happened on Tuesday. Now, Bea isn’t really that comfortable without Honey acting as a buffer between her and the boys. There’s definitely an awkwardness between her and Quinn, although they’re both trying to ignore it. Honey has seen Quinn watching Bea. Bea isn’t oblivious, either.

Other than the glances between Bea and Quinn, the dinner has been pretty good. The boys seem to believe that it’s their last hoo-rah together and they’re making the most of it. When she’s not worried about how things are going at the rental house, Honey is laughing at Jack’s stupid jokes or at the other boys’ comebacks and quips.

‘One more round’ turns into two before they leave. It’s normal for a Mexico trip to end in a few more drinks than expected, especially as the weekend approaches. By the time they’re walking out the door, the sun has started setting, and Sarah has texted Honey that everyone is ready for them to come back.

She and Bea are holding in their excitement well on the drive back to the house, sharing looks with each other and trying not to spill the secret at the last second.

“What the hell,” Quinn wonders under his breath, sounding confused as he pulls into the driveway and sees that there are more than a few cars parked in front of the house. 

The crowd of people in front of the house should be a dead giveaway to what’s going on. There are tons of familiar faces in the crowd, an impressive group considering Honey only had this idea on Tuesday morning while the ladies were in their knitting circle. 

Bea is bouncing in her seat, jumping out of the car as Quinn puts it into park. Honey exits after her and grins, hoping to find excitement and surprise on her friends’ faces. 

“Surprise!” shouts the crowd around the front of the house. 

“Welcome to your going away party!” Vera adds. She’s right at the front of the crowd with the other ladies, holding gift bags with the boys’ hockey numbers on them. “Come and get your presents.”

They’re all sufficiently buzzed, but Honey is glad to see that they can all pass a sobriety test; the boys don’t stumble or stagger at all on their way towards their respective present-presenter.

It’s really cute how Cole hugs Vera and Trevor accepts a kiss on the cheek from Scarlett. Luke hugs Gillian with one arm and looks over her shoulder at Emma-Kate while he does, sending her a playfully inquisitive look that Honey assumes has to do with the gift. Quinn accepts his bag from Sacha and Jack thanks Rosalind for his. It’s sweet– the ladies had dropped their current projects to create something for each boy, having only two days to craft a knitted item. She knows what each of them are and it’s a wonder that the ladies’ hands aren’t sore and laden with blisters and calluses. 

Vera knitted a sweater for Cole, her favorite of the boys. She asked Honey to see what colors Cole’s hockey team is, so she ended up knitting a navy sweater with red cuffs and a red hem to try and stay on theme as best she could. It was so precious.

Trevor got a sweater too, although his is a cable-knit conglomeration of all of the leftover half-skeins Scarlett has amassed over the past year. The colors change without warning and don’t follow a specific pattern, but Trevor is delighted with it. Honey snorts when he pulls it on over his clothes then and there. Of course he does, even though the temperature is in the high 70s. It’s warm and he’s out here wearing a sweater– maybe if they’re still out partying at two in the morning, it’ll pay off. 

The Hughes boys got beanies, since half of the pictures that came up when Honey looked them up for the ladies featured them walking through hockey arenas in suits and knitted toques. Quinn’s is dark green with a blue brim and Honey notices his tiny, quirked smile as he examines it. He hugs Sacha and thanks her again before tucking the hat into the pocket of his shorts.

Jack and Luke’s beanies nearly match, since each lady except Scarlett tried to match each boys’ team colors. They’re both black and white, although Jack’s is striped and Luke’s is a solid black with a firetruck red rim. There’s a patch on the brim of Luke’s that he seems particularly amused by. It’s black with white letters and a red heart– Honey can’t read what it says– but Emma-Kate is snickering to herself with her tongue poking between her teeth. It must have been her idea. Luke’s eyes tilt up to look up at her and he chuckles, shaking his head. Jack pulls his beanie on, just like Trevor did with his sweater, and Luke places his back in the gift bag. 

The party lingers in the front for a little while longer, with the boys talking to people in the crowd as Honey and Bea (and Earl) walk around the house into the backyard. It looks gorgeous– there are ladders leaning against the side of the house, which Honey assumed were used to hang the fairy lights that are twinkling along the balcony of the house. There are also poles sticking up in the yard, right at the edge of the concrete pad that the boys used as their rink, which allow fairy lights to freefall against the sky like a canopy of stars. 

Honey is glad that she dressed up today in her black, ribbed tank top and long, red boho skirt. There’s music playing through a speaker that Sarah brought with her and Honey wants to dance. The cicadas are out and singing along with the music, trying to screech over the lyrics. 

Bea also dressed up. She’s wearing a white bodysuit that ties in the back with a ruffly, dandelion-colored gingham skirt. She did her hair during her lunch break at the Nook, curling the strands into loose waves that make her look like she belongs on the beach. They need to get a picture.

Earl is stoking the bonfire in the pit that the boys made at the beginning of the summer, so the girls bother him to take their photo for a couple of minutes before he relents. They pose under the lights and hug each other, giggling when Bea turns her head and smushes her lips into Honey’s cheek. 

It’s then that the boys manage to migrate into the backyard. While other guests are heading towards the snack and drink table, or the bonfire, the guys are barreling into Honey and Bea’s photos. Jack grabs Bea’s waist and throws her over his shoulder, sticking his tongue out at the camera. Earl snaps a picture as Bea shrieks and laughs.

After minutes of wrangling, and convincing the boys to really smile, they get a couple of decent pictures together. Luke’s arm is thrown over Honey’s shoulder and Trevor’s arm is around her waist, holding her so tightly that their hips are touching.

Earl eventually gives up and hands the phone back to Bea, saying he’s not a photographer and he expects to be paid if they want any more pictures. Honey thinks he just wants to get back to the fire, which is every man’s happy place, it seems. There’s definitely a dichotomy here. So many of the men and husbands that came along to this party are mingling around the fire with their beer bottles in hand, while the women are all around. It makes Honey laugh, to be honest.

Trevor sticks by her side the whole night. Honey tells him that he can go hang out with Cole or dance around with Jack, but Trevor wraps his index finger around her pinkie and takes a sip from his beer instead. 

They talk with the ladies and with Joan, then with the guys from the Scruffy’s band. Honey challenges Andrew, the bass player, to a game of pool in the basement of the rental house. She still doesn’t win against him– maybe 2025 will be the year that she finally hustles Andrew. Arn, the lead singer of the band, takes her place and promises to “show her how it’s done,” which makes Honey roll her eyes and “hardy-har” at him. She and Trevor go back outside and join Bea around the bonfire.

The party started pretty late for most residents of Litchton. Honey and Bea didn’t meet up with the guys until after the Nook closed for the night, then they’d had about four drinks over two-ish hours, and then they came to the party. A lot of the older people from town, like Ada, have left the going away party with a final well-wish and a wave. Ada even offered to open the store tomorrow morning, so that Bea doesn’t have to leave early if she doesn’t want to. Bea had laughed and said she wouldn’t say no to that, but that she’ll have to make up for all the late starts during the school year.

They started with maybe fifty people, and that’s a generous estimate, but now they’re down to twenty or so. Sarah and Ethan are packing up the trailer bar for the night, but there’s plenty of beer leftover. Tyler ran out to go relieve the babysitter, while Jessie wanted to hang around a bit and talk to some of her old high school acquaintances that Honey has gotten to know over the years. Those four have probably been the oldest people at the party in the last half-hour.

Luke and Emma-Kate are chatting under the covered porch, feet in the hot tub. Jack and Cole are on the dance floor with a couple of Emma-Kate’s NC State friends. Honey doesn’t know how she convinced them to take a road trip to bumfuck western North Carolina during the first week of classes, but she has a feeling that the cute hockey stars might’ve played a factor. 

Both Bea and Quinn are seated around the fire with the townies. Lucía and her older brother Diego made it to the party and are sitting between Bea and Quinn, talking to the person to their side. Diego has a blunt between his fingers and keeps throwing looks at Griffin and his cop-buddy Joshua, who are also sitting around the fire. Diego is arching his eyebrow like The Rock towards the pair every couple minutes and making Griffin laugh to the point that he can’t even look in Diego’s direction anymore.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Honey asks, touching Bea’s shoulder. She’s staring into the fire and lifting her eyes to survey the group every once in a while or to look at Luce when they’re having a conversation.  

Bea puckers her lips at Honey and blows her a kiss. “Yeah, I’m good.” She pouts at Honey and continues to explain, “Coming down from the buzz, so I’m like hungover and drunk at the same time. I think I prefer morning hangovers. It’s also sad that the guys are leaving.” 

Trevor chuckles next to Bea and places his hand on the back of her folding chair. “You’re missing me already?”

Bea rolls her eyes. She knocks her head against his hand. “Not you, you take away my Honey time.”

“Here, Hon, you can have my chair,” Griffin offers, standing up and bringing the chair over to where they’re standing. 

“No, Griff, I’m okay standing and you had it first,” Honey says, waving him off. She doesn’t really want to sit, especially not if she’s taking Griffin’s chair. She’s just checking with Bea, and then she and Trevor are going to dance. Honey’s phone is connected to the speaker now, so all of her favorite music is playing. 

Griffin shakes his head and plants the chair next to Bea. “I’m going to grab another beer and use the bathroom anyway, don’t worry about it.”

“Griffin,” Bea sing-songs. “I know you’re trying to be gentlemanly–”

At that, Trevor’s hand slides around Honey’s hip possessively. 

“–but stop trying to force your chivalry on my best friend,” Bea finishes. A grin passes over her face after she ends her sentence.

Griffin laughs. He taps Bea’s forehead and she bites at Griffin’s finger when he pulls away. He leaves the circle and Bea shoots the hairband around her wrist at his retreating back.

Honey catches Quinn watching them, but he averts his eyes quickly when he sees that Honey is watching him. 

She feels like her stomach is sinking into the dirt. Honey tilts her head to the side, taking in Quinn’s shrunken posture, and sighs.

Trevor sinks into the chair Griffin left behind and pulls Honey onto his lap. She goes willingly, but leans forward and rests her elbows on the arm of Bea’s chair. 

“Are you going to talk to him?” Honey asks under her breath. “You’re both miserable.”

“I can’t,” Bea deflects in a low voice, matching Honey’s tone. She looks at Quinn and looks away just as quickly, biting the inside of her cheek.

Honey presses her lips together and blinks at Bea.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Bea complains, rolling her shoulder up and grimacing in blatant discomfort. “I feel bad, but it’s not…”

“Bea, you have to talk to him,” Honey tells her gently. “He’s not gone yet and you love him.”

Bea looks at her hands and rubs her thumb over the lines on her palm.

“He loves you,” Honey prods. She touches Bea’s elbow. “Finish the summer on a good note.”

“We’re broken up,” Bea reiterates to Honey, an unnecessary reminder of something Honey knows all too well. She was there with Bea before and after it happened. She knows.

“And that’s fine,” Honey says. “But neither of you want to be. You can’t just ignore him.”

Bea takes a deep breath and peeks at Quinn. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispers, still gazing in his direction. 

As if Quinn can feel the eyes on him, Honey sees him glance up and make eye contact with Bea. The corners of his lips turn up slightly in a reassuring smile before he looks away. 

She does the same. 

Honey tucks a lock of hair behind Bea’s ear. “You can do this.”

Trevor’s hands squeeze Honey’s hips and she gets the hint– he’s a little needy for attention. He managed to wait until the end of her and Bea’s conversation, which she’s happy about. It’s the bare minimum, and yet Trevor is impatient and bounces between one thing and another within minutes. He’s so sweet, and he gets rather restless quickly.

She wants to dance anyway. It’s time. Honey stands and pats Bea’s shoulder before she and Trevor approach the makeshift dance floor. She holds his hand and leads him there.

“You’re really good at crisis management,” Trevor says, turning Honey around so that they’re face to face. He puts his hands on her hips and holds her close. 

“I’ve had lots of practice,” Honey replies. She twines her arms around Trevor’s neck and knocks her nose against his. “Five years of it.”

Trevor hums and frowns, leaning in and stealing Honey’s lips a few times. “I hate remembering that,” he drawls. He pecks her lips again. “But you are very good at it. I like that you take care of people so well.”

Honey feels her cheeks go red and she shakes her head, looking over his shoulder at Jack and his brunette. 

Trevor kisses over Honey’s neck and her shoulder. They sway to the music, staying close and breathing in time with each other. 

Honey rests her temple against Trevor’s cheek. She laughs and corrects him when his hands fall from her hips to her ass. She can feel him smiling in a cheeky way after she tells him to move his hands back to a respectable place, although he obeys in an instant. 

A few minutes later, Trevor taps Honey’s waist with his thumb. “They’re dancing.”

Honey is confused for a minute, then her eyebrows lift towards her hairline. “Bea and Quinn?”

“Mhm,” Trevor hums. He spins them around in place so that Honey can creepily watch Bea and Quinn dancing behind them. 

Bea’s got a hand on Quinn’s shoulder, her other hand held in his out to her right side. They’ve got a relaxed-ballroom dance stance instead of the closer hold that Trevor and Honey have on each other. Quinn’s hand is on Bea’s waist and they seem to be talking, albeit in stilted conversation, as they move. 

Quinn’s fingers are tense, partially lifted off of Bea’s waist, like he’s not sure if he can touch her. They relax when Bea steps closer and lets her forearm rest on his bicep, faces close enough that they can probably feel each others’ breath. They look… happy to be like this, but hesitant.

Honey understands why Bea is so choked up every time she has to be near Quinn. After all, Honey doesn’t want Trevor to leave, but it’s inevitable. The same is true for Bea and Quinn. The summer and their time in Litchton was always going to end. Distance is a just a cruel snip of fate.

Honey gulps as they turn, catching the look in Bea’s glassy eyes, fastened on Quinn’s face. She’s biting her lower lip while she studies him. It’s like Quinn is telling her something, but she can’t hear him without remembering what it’s like to kiss him. She’s tormented by how much she likes him and taunted by the fact that it could never work.

Honey loses them in her sight as she and Trevor spin on the floor. Honey takes a sharp inhale and blinks, coming back to herself. 

“I don’t want to miss you in the fall,” Honey says suddenly, as if jolted awake. 

“What?” Trevor asks, thoroughly confused.

“When Bea and Quinn broke up, she said it made the most sense? I don’t think it makes sense for us,” Honey stammers, shaking her head. 

“What are you talking about?” Trevor asks.

Of course he’s confused, since they already decided that they’d be staying together after Trevor leaves, but Honey has to say what’s on her mind regardless. She distantly recognizes the song that has started to play– “A year from now, we’ll all be gone…”

“I never wanted to see Thomas again after we broke up, but I never want to be without you,” Honey says. “We can’t break up.”

“Honey, we’re not breaking up,” Trevor agrees. 

She understands what he meant now– when he came to the Nook for the first time, Trevor told her that he liked her name because it was like he got to call her something special, something sweet. It rubbed her the wrong way then, but hearing his tender tone now makes Honey want to weep. Her name only sounds right, like this, when he says it. “I’m in this. You’re stuck with me. God help you.”

His sincere words break a dam in Honey’s ribs, causing her to giggle. “You’re not going to make me beg?” She jabs back, grateful that he didn’t take her hurried words in a more serious, concerned, worried way. 

Trevor leans down to mouth over her pulse point. “Oh, every day of your life. Know how much you like it, gotta keep my girlfriend happy,” he mumbles along her skin. 

Honey lets out a contented sigh. She hugs Trevor closer. “Knew you were good for something.”

“That’s why you decided to keep me around, hm?” Trevor teases with a smile at the curve of her jaw. “The sex?”

“One of the reasons,” Honey teases back.

“Yeah? What are the others?” Trevor asks. He’s goading her into giving him compliments, but Honey is more than willing to comply.

Honey pulls him up to meet her lips. “I love you,” she says after the kiss.

Trevor grins, his chipped tooth that Honey is so fond of catching her eye. “I love you, too,” he replies and kisses her again.

“Holy shit, what did you two just say?” Cole demands suddenly from next to them. He’s dancing with Emma-Kate’s redheaded friend, to whom he bids goodbye with a squeeze of her hand and a wink. He turns back to Honey and Trevor. “When did this happen?”

“When did what happen,” Trevor asks, narrowing his eyes at Cole.

“The I Love You,” Cole explains, nodding between them pointedly. “Was that the first time?”

Honey blinks. She frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve been betting on it for weeks,” Cole says. “If that’s the first time you’ve said I Love You, then Jack loses the bet and Quinn wins.”

Trevor scoffs. “That’s kind of funny. I wondered what those numbers on the back of the whiteboard were for.”

Honey’s jaw drops. The numbers that she noticed last week… they hadn’t meant anything to Honey, just doodles of something she assumed was hockey related. Now she gets it— it was their over/under on their relationship.

“He knows when we said I Love You for the first time,” Honey snaps incredulously, sucking her teeth. She looks out on the floor to find Jack. “He was in the room when I yelled about it to Bea.”

“Oh, cheater,” Cole complains, throwing a glance at Jack as well. He catches their gaze, then quickly pulls his brunette towards the hot tub with Luke and Emma-Kate. “That’s not fair. I thought you’d wait until the end of this year. Damn.” He whacks himself on the head gently. “I should’ve known, after all the sex dreams you had, Z. You said it first, didn’t you?”

Trevor is quick to change the subject. “So do we get a share of the money since you were betting on us?”

Honey turns to Trevor, on a completely separate page. “You had sex dreams about me?”

Trevor flushes red. 

“Oh yeah,” Cole laughs. “Why do you think he wanted to fuck you so bad on the boat on the Fourth of July?”

Honey cackles, throwing her head back. She smushes Trevor’s cheeks between her thumb and forefinger. “You’re such a boy. Sex dreams…”

Trevor groans in the back of his throat and takes Honey’s hand. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Honey laughs again at his bizarre slang. Even though it’s a relatively common phrase, she somehow never expected to hear Trevor say it.

They go upstairs to his room, deserting the party and getting ready for bed. Trevor does his best to keep his hands on Honey as they change into their pajamas, brush their teeth, wash their faces, and climb into bed. Honey left her phone downstairs to keep playing the music, but she’s sure Bea will grab it when the party wraps up. She can still hear the music playing and some people chatting outside, their voices floating up over Trevor’s balcony and seeping through the sliding glass door, muffled to something intelligible.

They lay there, Honey pulled halfway onto Trevor’s chest so that she can listen to his heartbeat, for a while before dozing off. Honey almost falls asleep in Trevor’s arms, hearing him drone on and on about something that she stopped listening to a long time ago, when Quinn opens Trevor’s door without knocking. He’s lucky that they’re not in a compromising position. Honey is lucky that he’s not catching them in a compromising position– that would be humiliating.

“Honey,” Quinn says breathlessly. He stares at her and runs his fingers through his hair.

Honey sits up from where she was tucked against Trevor’s body. “What?” She asks. She's never seen Quinn like this, all flushed and frantic.

“It’s Bea, I don't know what to do,” Quinn tells her, tugging at his t-shirt anxiously. “Can you come?”

The fact that Honey is just in one of Trevor's big shirts and her panties doesn’t matter anymore. She has left Trevor’s side in a flash and goes down the hall ahead of Quinn, throwing his bedroom door open and not caring that it bangs off the wall. Bea is sitting in Quinn’s bed, wrapped in the sheets, face buried in her hands. 

“What happened?” Honey behests in a sharp voice, talking to Quinn while approaching the bed and brushing Bea’s hair with her fingers. 

“Just–” Quinn starts, but Bea’s voice leaks through the cracks of her fingers and Honey tunes the man out automatically, wanting to hear Bea’s side.

“It’s just not fair,” Bea whimpers. “How can it be like this and it still won’t work?”

“It can work,” Quinn insists. “Bea, I told you, we don’t have to–”

Bea’s shoulders start to shake and Honey wraps her arms around her. She narrows her eyes at Quinn. “You’re upsetting her,” she says. “You knew what you were getting into from the jump.”

“But I–” Quinn argues.

“No,” Honey states. She flashes him a look. “Quinn.”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says in a softer voice, directing his words at Bea. “Can we talk tomorrow?”

Bea lifts her head and eyes Quinn. It takes a moment, but she nods. 

“Are you sure?” Honey asks, wiping a tear off of Bea’s cheek. 

“We have to talk,” Bea says. “We… we have to talk.”

Honey nods slowly. “Okay,” she says tentatively. “Let’s go to Trev’s room.”

Still wrapped in Quinn’s sheet, they walk down the hall and go into Trevor’s bathroom. Honey gives Bea the shirt that she was wearing so that she can cover up, then goes back into Trevor’s room to grab a new one. She returns to Bea only seconds later and locks the bathroom door behind them.

“What happened?” Honey asks again after sitting in complete silence on the ledge of the jacuzzi for five minutes.

Bea takes a deep breath and scrubs her hands over her face. “Breakup sex,” she explains. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“But you wanted to,” Honey checks. “It wasn’t, like–”

Bea’s eyes grow wide. “God, no! No, Quinn wouldn’t do that. It was consensual for both of us and it was good sex, just sad, and I was overwhelmed afterward.”

Honey pinches her lips together, evaluating Bea. After a beat, she says, “You told him.”

Bea chews on a hangnail and avoids Honey’s eyes.

“Bea, look at me,” Honey says, then waits for her to do so. “You told him that you love him.”

Bea holds eye contact, then surveys the tile floor of the bathroom. Her voice is quiet when she speaks. “I shouldn’t have.”

Honey takes in a breath. “Bea…”

“Do you want to look into therapists with me tomorrow?” Bea asks, laughing lightly. She’s still got a sheen of tears in her eyes, but her question is genuine.

Honey lets a silence fall between them again, holding eye contact with Bea. She doesn’t know what to think, really. Honey thinks that Bea should go for it with Quinn, since they both care so much and are so happy when they’re together. They should see if they can make it. It’s the unknown and the chance that something could go wrong that Bea is afraid of, and Honey gets that. She feels the same way, but Bea is so dedicated to the things she cares about. If she wanted to commit to Quinn, they would make it, and if they don’t, at least they tried.

“I’ll see if Dr. Harris does online appointments,” Honey eventually agrees, referring to the therapist she used to see in Charlotte after Thomas leaked her nudes to the public. “We need to get these commitment issues in check, Bea. I want you to be happy. I want you to be able to be with Quinn, if that’s what you want.”

Bea’s smile is rueful. “That won’t happen,” Bea repeats for the umpteenth time. “If the Quinn thing wasn’t over before, it definitely is now. Crying after your ex-boyfriend just came inside you isn’t a very appealing thing.”

Honey covers her face. She’s at a loss for words. “Alright.”

Bea lets out a chuckle, but it trails off. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to him tomorrow.”

“Try not to have breakup sex again,” Honey suggests.

“Well, yes,” Bea agrees. “That… that probably wasn’t one of my better ideas. He’s just– I mean, you know how you kept thinking that you wanted Trevor, and then took it back, and the cycle kept repeating? Right at the beginning of the summer?”

Honey cringes. That seems so stupid, now. She was overthinking so much and it made her so anxious. “Yeah.”

“I just can’t stay away from Q,” Bea sighs. She forms the words slowly in her mouth. “I… love him.”

“I know,” Honey affirms. She offers a small smile at Bea, which the girl returns. “I’m here for you.”

“Wanna have a sleepover?” Bea asks, sounding almost like when they were children trying to scheme their parents into letting them spend more time together.

“Do we have to choreograph a dance to convince Trevor?” Honey teases.

“I think if you bat your eyelashes at him, he’ll agree.” Bea smiles and wipes her eyes one final time, some enthusiasm returning to her body.

Honey huffs out a laugh. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promises, standing and leaving the bathroom to ask Trevor for a sleepover.

Like Bea said, batting her eyelashes worked– plus a pouted bottom lip and a giggly “please.” All three of them sleep in Trevor’s king-sized bed that night, which might be the funniest thing Honey and Bea have ever done.

89:90 – TREVOR

Trevor’s final task of the day is to clean out the fridge. They split the house up into different areas for cleaning, although Jack is going to do the final run-though since he’s the neatest of all of them. Cole cleaned his room and the basement, Luke cleaned the bunk-bed room and the living room and balconies, Jack took his room and the hallways and stairwells and did a sweep of the outside, and Quinn had to do his room and the bathrooms. Trevor was left with his room, the kitchen, and the dining room. It was fair enough. 

Looking into the fridge, though, Trevor is intimidated by his final task. It’s no secret that the boys love to eat. They’re all in their early 20s, with Quinn finally turning 25 just next month and entering those frightening mid-20s where his frontal lobe will fully develop. Luke is a moose, the youngest of them and yet able to put away the most food, but the state of the fridge reflects all of their hunger and diet. 

Even though they’re leaving tomorrow, the fridge is still stuffed with food. There’s eggs and greek yogurt and a bunch of different kinds of cheese. They’ve got two gallons of milk on one of the shelves, one unopened and one half-drunk, which they’ve been throwing in protein shakes and fruity smoothies all summer. There are a couple of BlenderBottles near the milk, storing drinks that the guys never quite finished, and Trevor wilts at the idea of cleaning them out, not knowing how long they’ve been in there. 

Quinn has a bunch of uneaten meals he prepped last weekend, with quinoa and brown rise and whatever kind of meat he threw into the bowl that day. There’s chicken and turkey stuffed away in massive ziplock bags for the guys to take out and throw onto a sandwich or into a wrap whenever they feel like. There’s a tupperware of lean ground beef from when Luke made tacos a few days ago, which he’s been slowly picking at. They have stacks of boxes of cold cuts for sandwiches, none of which they’ll be able to finish. It’s a waste. Trevor realizes that they should’ve started thinking about how much food they have last week– and trying to eat it all until there’s nothing left by the end of the week– but they didn’t. Plus, they’ve got all the leftover food from the party last night, and a bunch of loose cans and bottles of beer on the next shelf, taking up space.

The boxes for veggies and fruits are no better. Quinn bought a bunch of vegetables for his salads and bowls– carrots, celery, cucumber, peppers, spinach, kale, lettuce, avocado… it’s a nightmare. Trevor doesn’t even know how they all fit into the bin. The next one with their fruit for smoothies is no better, packed to the brim, and there’s a thing of hummus sitting atop the carton of blueberries. It doesn’t belong there, but Trevor guesses that there was just no room anywhere else.

The shelves on the doors house a bunch of items that he can probably leave in the rental house for the owners to decide their fate. It’s a bunch of sauces, vingaigrettes and salad dressings, a jar of pickles and a couple of jars of jam, ketchup, mustard, and mayo. In a plastic cup, they’ve got a bunch of packets of soy sauce that came with the Chinese food they ordered months ago, and Trevor isn’t even sure you’re supposed to refrigerate soy sauce packets. He’s pretty sure those could’ve stayed in the pantry.

He wishes he could throw the meat and the fruit in the freezer, although that would only keep it fresh for so long, but the freezer is equally stuffed with items. Trevor won’t mess with any of that– the owners can eat the frozen pizzas or the frozen chicken and he doesn’t have to worry about that. It might be nice to come back to a relatively full freezer, knowing that you won’t have to go and buy more stuff anytime soon. Plus, the frozen food won’t go bad. It’ll be fine.

He kind of wishes that Honey had told him about the surprise party, although he loved how surprising it was. He wore his sweater from Scarlett this morning until it got too hot to wear in the August heat. If he’d known, he could’ve asked her to tell the people to use the items in their fridge. He’s sure that the ladies could’ve whipped something up with the random and nutritious items in their kitchen. At their base, the food doesn’t make for “party food,” but Trevor has faith in the ladies. They’ve attended decades of church potlucks and homecomings and can make something out of nothing, like grandmother magic. 

Ugh. But now he has to clean.

His only consolation is that Honey and Bea are coming over for dinner tonight, so they’ll be able to put away two more servings of food than if it was just the boys in the house. Unfortunately, Bea won’t be able to help Trevor toss food in the trash since she’s supposed to have a big conversation with Quinn– they’re still not going to stay together when the boys leave, to Trevor’s knowledge– but Honey will be around to help. He gets to spend more time with his girlfriend doing domestic things. This must be where the phrase ‘domestic bliss’ comes from.

He’s not looking forward to the months that he’ll endure without seeing Honey in person. His game schedule came out a little while ago, back in July, and he’s been trying to pinpoint which games Honey might want to come to. At the very earliest, he could see her at the end of October, when he plays in Jersey for the first time this season. He thinks that she, and Bea if she wants to come, might get a kick out of seeing Trevor and Jack and Luke on the ice together. Quinn comes to California in the first week of November, so maybe she’d want to come to that. She could come to Montréal with him in early December to face off with Cole, but Trevor doesn’t know if Honey has a passport. He needs to ask before he gets tickets for her. He’ll definitely see her over Christmas, since he promised to see her parents again over the holidays, and he’d love to spend New Year’s together. The Devils play in California on the last day of the year, so they could spend that time together. At the very latest, Trevor will see her January 12th when he plays in Raleigh for the first time this season.

If it takes that long to see Honey, they would spend about five months apart. Trevor detests that. He sees what his teammates mean now when they talk about how it’s hard to be apart from their girlfriends and wives and families.

They play the Canes again in March, but in Anaheim. Trevor will certainly ask Honey to come out for that one. Who knows, she might become a die-hard Canes fan now that she has a reason to pay attention to hockey. Her parents are big NC State fans, having both gone there– and wanting their daughter to continue the tradition– so the family has a stake in Raleigh. If Honey doesn’t learn to love the Ducks for her boyfriend, because of her hatred of California, then she ought to become a fan of her hometown team. 

Who knows? Maybe, a couple of years down the line, if Honey isn’t willing to move to California with Trevor… he’ll try to broker a deal with the Canes and get a trade. He’ll be a free agent again in 2026. Anything is possible.

Trevor closes the fridge and takes a lap around the kitchen. Once he makes it back in front of the refrigerator, there’s nothing left to do but open the doors. 

He takes another lap.

He rolls his neck back, trying to crack it the next time he makes it in front of the fridge. He jumps up and down and stretches his body, focusing on his arms and shoulders. Trevor isn’t exactly sure why he’s so intimidated by the idea of cleaning out this fridge, but he is. He lets out three quick, harsh breaths, and sets his hands on the door handles.

“Why are you so weird?”

Trevor jumps, his shoulders flying up towards his earlobes. “Jesus,” he curses. “You can’t fucking sneak up on me like that, Bea.”

She’s got a perturbed look on her face, looking at him judgmentally. Her hair is in two messy braids on either side of her face, sunglasses sat atop her head and keeping her flyaways out of her face. She squints at him. The judgment is whatever, but Trevor is more concerned with the fact that she’s alone.

“Where’s my girlfriend?” he asks.

“Our girlfriend,” Bea corrects snarkily.

“You’re not dating her,” Trevor sneers. He goes a bit farther than he’s supposed to without thinking. “You’re not dating anyone.”

Bea rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue. “She’s upstairs, talking to Quinn before I go up there and talk to him myself.”

“Oh.”

“‘Oh,’” Bea mocks. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning out the fridge,” Trevor answers her. 

Bea makes a face. “Why?”

“Because we leave tomorrow?” Trevor sasses in the same tone.

“Don’t get rid of this shit,” Bea tells him. “I’ll take the milk and bring it to the Nook for our shitty coffee maker. Ada will take your ripe fruit, or Honey will. I’ll put the deli meat in the fridge at the Nook too, I forget to make lunch all the time and I always need to improvise with the nothingness we have. Sarah will take the rest of the unopened cheese so she can pair it with wines at tastings. Earl will take just about all of the meat you have.”

She says it so simply and Trevor stares at her. 

Bea starts to laugh. “You didn’t think about the people around you? Did you think you’d be able to throw all of this food away and get away with it? Honey would’ve killed you for wasting so much.”

Trevor scowls and looks away from the girl, focusing his attention on the refrigerator again. 

“Come on, Trevor, don’t be a pouty baby,” Bea giggles. “At least you don’t have to be the shame of Litchton, throwing away all of your groceries like the spoiled, rich, professional athlete you are.”

“You’re kind of a bitch,” Trevor tells her. 

Bea shrugs. “I don’t have to take the food if you don’t want me to.”

His scowl turns into a glower. “You can’t take it back now.”

Bea smirks to herself and watches as Trevor opens the fridge and starts to sort through all of the old protein shakes and fruit smoothies that need to be removed. Trevor sees her perk up in the corner of his eye and she steps forward, reaching past him and grabbing a slender aluminum can and sets it on the counter. “You might want to keep that for yourself.” She’s got a stupid little smile on her face.

Trevor shoos her away and snatches the bottle back, moving it to the counter on the other side of the fridge. He sneaks a peek at it when Bea has dropped onto the couch in the living room and thrown her feet up on the freshly-cleaned table. He rolls his eyes– it’s the can of Reddi-Whip Cole bought last week after Vera gave him a peach cobbler for his help with inventory on Tuesday. Bea thinks she’s hilarious.

“He’s ready for you,” Honey’s voice says, floating down the hallway. Bea jumps up from the couch and goes down the hall, seeming to stop in front of Honey so that she can add, “Don’t have breakup sex with him again.”

Trevor snorts and closes the fridge door on his head as best he can to hide his laughter. Honey nudges his knee forward until it buckles once she nears Trevor, a reproachful frown on her face. “Don’t laugh at her. Things are hard.”

That’s what she said. Trevor sucks on his teeth and makes eye contact with Honey, trying not to laugh even more. 

She moves like she’s about to bop him in the balls, so Trevor instinctively covers his junk with his hands and distances himself from Honey. She scoffs a laugh and takes his spot in front of the fridge. “What are we making for dinner?”

Trevor takes it as an invitation and plasters himself to Honey’s back, pressing his soft cock against her behind. “I dunno,” he says, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I know what dessert is, though.”

Honey makes a surprised sound that comes out more like a squawk, mouth dropping open and body squirming in Trevor’s arms. “You horny motherfucker,” she rebukes.

Trevor tightens his grip and laughs under his breath, weaseling his way closer to Honey and kissing her neck. “It’ll be fun. C’mon, sweet girl, I leave tomorrow. I need to have you in my bed after dinner.”

She rolls her eyes but goes lax in Trevor’s grip. “Well, when you put it that way,” she concedes sarcastically. Her hand comes up to Trevor’s hair, scratching his scalp, and he hums into her pulse point, leaving peck after peck on the beating vein. “Let’s get this fridge fixed and make some dinner, then we can do… something sweet.”

Trevor is too busy hearing the consent from Honey to fuck all night to hear the lightbulb going off above her head. He’s smiling into her shoulder.

Honey is good at organizing– Trevor has said it before, but he has to repeat it now. She manages the refrigerator so well, creating sections for each person that will receive the food. Honey says that she’ll borrow Earl’s truck tomorrow and his big cooler to store the food, trucking a load to the Nook while the boys pack the cars. She promises that she’ll be back by the time Trevor leaves, not that he’d leave without putting off the goodbye as long as he can. 

He really has to leave by 11, since that’s when checkout is, but Trevor might have to get lunch with Honey if Cole allows him to. He’s flying out of D.C. pretty late, around 9 o’clock, and it’s about a six and a half hour drive. Surely he’d be okay with grabbing lunch. It’ll be tight, but they can make it with time to spare. In his heart, Trevor knows that lunch is unlikely, but he’s trying to convince himself that it can work logistically. 

Honey gives him all of the used dishes to clean while she handles the food, until there’s nothing left for Trevor to do but help. Even then, she hands him leftovers to dig into and finish off before she trusts him with sorting items in her system. Trevor doesn’t mind– he’s not as bottomless as Luke, but he can put away a good chunk of a buffet.

Bea and Quinn join Honey and Trevor downstairs as they finish sorting food. Trevor manages to read the room this time and he shares a look with Honey. There’s a thick tension between Bea and Quinn, but they’re shouldering their way through it. Trevor catches both of them casually touching each other as the foursome moves around the kitchen to prepare dinner. There’s a hand on the small of Bea’s back to squeeze behind her and a hand on Quinn’s bicep when Bea leans past him to grab a knife from the block to chop up a cucumber for the salad. They must’ve come to some conclusion– or a middle-ground that worked better for them than the original breakup on Tuesday.

The boys wander into the kitchen at different intervals. By the time dinner is served, they’re all cramped together in the tiny space and chatting like this isn’t the last time they’ll have a night like this for… who knows how long.

It’s bittersweet. While Trevor is having the time of his life eating pounds and pounds of food with his best friends, his girlfriend, and Bea, he’s also anxious to go upstairs. Honey is in no rush to leave the table. 

They sit there for hours, long after the food has gone cold. They continue eating this whole time and manage to get rid of a lot of the food Trevor was stressing about. Honey holds his hand on top of the table and strokes the back of his fingers with her thumb. 

The guys and Bea leave Honey and Trevor to clean up the kitchen again after cooking and eating– “The kitchen was your realm, dude, why should we have to clean up your shit?” was their argument– and they go downstairs to watch a movie in the basement. 

Honey sits on the counter and kicks her feet, watching Trevor dry the dishes and put them away. When he’s done, and about to grab a beer from their supply, Honey beckons Trevor over. “C’mere, Trev,” she requests, leaning forward to kiss him when he steps between her legs. Her hands fist in the hem of his shirt, tugging. “You should take this off.”

Trevor’s stomach swoops. “Yeah?” He lets his hand trail along the neckline Honey’s tank top, caressing the soft skin of her breasts. 

“I had a funny idea,” Honey divulges sneakily. 

“Mm, that sounds fun,” Trevor hums. He slides his left hand down to palm Honey’s tit and gives it a squeeze.

She laughs. “I didn’t even tell you what it is yet,” she says.

“All I know is that you want me to take my shirt off and we’re kissing,” Trevor says. “No matter what your idea is, it’ll be fun.”

Honey mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ‘horndog’ before taking things into her own hands and pulling Trevor’s shirt up and over his head. Her hands brush over his bare skin, fingers dancing along the tattoo on his ribs before her thumb brushes his nipple. One of her hands leaves him, but Trevor is shivering from the gentle touch on his chest.

Her tongue is flat against his and Trevor moans before there’s a hissing sound and something cool touches Trevor’s stomach.

He pulls back from Honey and looks down, starting to laugh breathlessly when he sees the dollop of whipped cream on his sternum. “That is a funny idea,” Trevor says. “But I think you already had your chance to cover me in whipped cream.”

“So long ago,” Honey points out. She juts out her bottom lip and blinks innocently at Trevor. “You don’t want me to put a little cream on the tip of your dick and lick it off?”

Trevor is bombarded by an image of Honey on her knees, cheeks hollowed and lips wrapped around his cock. He struggles to wade through it and make it back to reality. “That’s… after my turn,” he stammers.

Honey pouts deepens, but Trevor will not fall for this. When Honey first licked whipped cream off of his body on Cole’s dare, the images of that plagued Trevor for days. He thought of all the ways he could get her back and now that he has the chance, he wants to make it even. He takes the can of whip from her hand and takes the appendage with his other, helping Honey off the counter and leading her upstairs.

“Get strippin’, Charlotte,” Trevor jokingly commands once he has his bedroom door locked behind them. He leans back against the wood and sprays a mouthful of whipped cream onto his tongue, swallowing the sweet treat as he watches her bite her tongue and drag her tank top up her body. She pops the button of her daisy dukes and lets them drop to the floor, stepping out of them and marching over to Trevor.

She kisses him against the door, her fingertips digging into his waistband like they did all of those weeks ago. “Don’t call me that,” she tells him after kissing him stupid. 

Trevor’s head is hazy from the movement of her lips, so he nods an agreement before she even finishes talking. 

Honey walks backward, pulling Trevor forward by the fabric around his abdomen, and kisses him over and over. 

Trevor can smell vanilla, Honey’s signature scent, on her skin and can almost taste cherries on her lips. He shakes the can of whipped cream absently, his palm splayed over the tattoo above Honey’s behind. He should cover that in whipped cream. 

It’s tempting, but he has something else he’d rather cover in the delicate white dessert. Her nipple piercings have been healed for years, and she once licked this stuff off of his nipples, and he wants to repay the favor. It’s his first order of business, actually. 

He goes down with Honey when she settles onto the bed, laying on her back. Trevor parts her lips with his tongue and nibbles on her bottom lip, making sure there’s not a part of her mouth that he hasn’t explored before he pulls away and tries to decide what pattern he wants to draw on Honey’s body.

He must take too long, since Honey opens her mouth and resumes her normal sassy, borderline bratty bossiness. “Maybe we should do my idea first, since you can’t seem to think of anyth–”

Trevor leans over her and sprays a mouthful of whip onto her tongue. “Quiet, you.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Honey replies, a little muffled. She swallows and licks some whip off of her upper lip. 

Trevor takes to decorating her body before she can tell him to hurry up again. He draws two arches over her breasts, then laughs to himself and connects the arches to make a heart, the base of which reaches her belly button. He draws two eyes on the heart– two dollops of the white substance on her nipples– and a curved line that is the heart’s smile. He adds two little legs to the heart and sprays a line above Honey’s waistband, creating a ground for the heart to stand on. 

Honey watches him with a tiny smile on her face, fond and sweet. “You’re a goof,” she eventually says when Trevor places the can on his nightstand. 

“I’m an artist,” Trevor corrects. He carefully makes his way on top of Honey, trying not to ruin his masterpiece before he can lick it away. He decides to start with the heart’s smile, sucking up the treat there as a precursor to the more erotic zones he decided to cover. 

Honey laughs when he moves to the heart’s legs, bracketing the pudge on her stomach that he likes to rest his head on so much when she sits on the couch and reads a book. “That tickles,” she tells Trevor. 

He digs his fingers into her sides at that, making her squirm and giggle. All the while, he continues licking the cream away.

His tongue trails along her hips, dangerously close to her pussy, cleaning up the line that he placed there. Honey’s breath gets a bit deeper when he laps at her skin so far south, yet too north for her liking. He can tell that she’s feeling it, understanding how sexy it was when she did this to him at the beginning of the summer, just because of the way her squirming morphs into something more subtle and needy. 

He ignores the twitch of her hips upward, just placing a hand on her hip and holding her down with gentle pressure. He goes back up to the body of the heart, kissing just below Honey’s belly button before licking up the left side of the heart. He goes up her torso, around her boobs, forcing himself not to indulge in the dots on her tits just yet, and back down to where he started. 

Slowly, achingly slow, Trevor kisses the middle of Honey’s stomach, up the line between her boobs, and to her clavicle. His thumbs rise from her waist and hip to her ribs, pressing into the thin skin mere millimeters from the curves of her breasts. 

“Gonna fuck you after I finish cleaning you up,” Trevor tells her. 

“Hm, you’d better,” Honey muses. “Feels like I’m about to explode, Trev.”

“Imagine how I felt after you left me hanging,” Trevor teases. 

“You rubbed yourself raw, didn’t you?” Honey asks.

Trevor laughs and nips at her neck. “Mean.”

“But true?”

“Mean,” Trevor repeats.

“Definitely true.”

He doesn’t respond, although she’s on the right track. If the boys hadn’t been on stakeout after the dare, he probably would’ve jerked it until his dick fell off. That’s how hot it was when she dropped to her knees and made her way up his body. Instead of answering Honey, Trevor hovers with his mouth just above one of her nipples. He flicks his tongue and takes off the top of the dollop of whipped cream, avoiding contact with Honey’s peaks. He does the same thing to the other, waiting to hear Honey open her mouth to tell him what to do before he covers her nipple with his mouth and damn near bites down, sucking and licking all the whipped cream off of her sensitive skin until there’s nothing but sweetened saliva cooling against her piercings. Even after cleaning both of her nipples off until they’re pristine again, Trevor alternates between them, showering them with attention and hearing Honey grow louder and louder each time he bites down.

“Trev, get your cock inside me,” Honey requests, twirling his hair around her fingers and stroking his neck. She stifles a snort, although Trevor hears it anyway. “Put your cream inside me.”

Trevor muffles his own laughter in her neck. “Good one,” he tells Honey sarcastically. “Very sexy.”

Honey giggles and scratches her nails down Trevor’s back. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Totally.” Trevor nods in an overexaggerated way. He throws himself down on the bed next to Honey, laying on his back and lifting his hips to pull his sweats and underwear down. 

Honey rolls onto her side and pushes herself up onto her elbows, kissing the side of Trevor’s face before throwing her leg over his lap and straddling him. 

“Ooh,” Trevor muses, bringing his hands to Honey’s behind and palming her asscheeks. “You gonna ride me?”

“Just for the first round,” Honey replies. “Then I’m laying down and you get to do all the work.”

Trevor’s retort fails to sound from his mouth when Honey rolls her hips against his, her wet folds molding around the length of Trevor’s cock. His eyes probably grow bigger from the spark that ignites in his belly when her entrance drags along the ridges of his shaft. 

“You look pretty like this,” Honey compliments. She plants her hands on his stomach and grinds down again. “Under me.”

“You look prettier under me,” Trevor one-ups her, digging his fingers into her ass and spreading the cheeks. He bucks his hips up and makes sure his cockhead brushes her swollen clit. “But I love how you look on top.”

“You like seeing my boobs bounce.”

Trevor grins, showing his teeth to Honey. 

She laughs and hovers above him, wrapping a hand around Trevor’s cock and lining him up with her core. She lowers herself, biting her bottom lip and letting out a sigh as she fills herself. 

Trevor loves the weight of her body settling against him. It makes him feel even more surrounded by Honey, even more under her thumb. When she’s on top of him, the gravity of their position makes him feel so much better. Her insides are hot and gummy and Trevor can feel her slick pooling around his base once she starts to move. 

Her eye contact is insane, making Trevor squirm against the mattress. Her eyes almost affect him more than the grip her pussy has on his cock– evaluating Trevor, scrutinizing him, watching his every move. Trevor’s heartbeat only increases as she rocks her hips and milks the precum from his member. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Trevor mumbles.

Honey lets a sweet smile pass over her face and she tilts her head. “Aren’t you a sweetheart,” she says, pinching his sides gently before leaning forward to kiss him. 

Trevor’s hands travel from her ass to her waist, her back, and her tits. He moves her hair out of her face and touches her jaw as she sucks on his bottom lip. 

“I love you,” Honey breathes into Trevor’s mouth. 

A blurt of precum travels up Trevor’s cock and leaks into Honey’s insides. He has a physical reaction to her words– he’s so down bad, but God, he wouldn’t change anything. “I love you too.”

“I’m sad you have to go,” Honey says.

“I wish I could stay with you all the time,” Trevor replies. 

“I’m glad you came.”

Trevor groans when she clenches down on his length and starts to bounce faster. “Fuck,” he grits out. “That’s what she said.”

Honey closes her eyes and rests her forehead against Trevor’s. “If I weren’t so close to coming, I’d be so mad at you for ruining this moment.”

Trevor chuckles and lifts his chin so that their lips align. He thrusts his hips up in time with Honey’s movements, trying to match her rhythm as best he can. He soaks up the sounds that Honey makes, muffled and longing for more. She’s so tight and Trevor can feel how badly she wants him to fill her up.

He doesn’t make her wait long– once her tongue fills his mouth rather than his tongue entering hers, Trevor feels his balls tighten and he can’t hold back any longer. His cum spurts from his slit, cock twitching inside Honey as his pleasure explodes inside of her. 

Honey’s hips slow and she perches atop him. Her thumb sweeps across his lower lip, cleaning it of her saliva. She smirks at Trevor and removes herself from his lap, laying against the pillows and reaching for the can of whipped cream on the nightstand. 

Trevor watches her with curious, but confused eyes. She didn’t come yet. What is she doing? He picks up his head in surprise when she turns the can of whip on herself, spraying a bit of the cream onto her pubic mound.

Honey sets the can aside and grins at Trevor, proud of herself for her idea. “Dessert?” she asks.

Trevor laughs out loud and rolls onto his stomach, between her legs, and presses a kiss to her clit before licking all of the whipped cream away. He’ll get to the other kind shortly.

90:90 – HONEY

Honey sits on the edge of the tailgate of Earl’s truck, legs swinging beneath her. The polaroids in her pocket are a dead weight, burning a hole against her side. She’s nervous to give them to Trevor, so she decided to wait until the last minute, which is approaching any second. She’s just waiting for the boys to return from their final sweep of the house, making sure they didn’t forget to pack anything, which Honey is sure they did. There’s got to be something in that massive house that one of the boys forgot. 

Bea sits next to her. She twiddles her thumbs. They’ve already done the food-drops that Honey promised yesterday, stuffing fridges full of the boys’ food. They had to use both of their bodyweights to close the fridge in the Nook, since it was filled to the brim. 

The boys have packed up both of the cars. The Hughes boys are taking the big car to Charlotte and flying out from that airport, checking their many bags and landing in Detroit sometime this afternoon. Cole and Trevor are driving to D.C. tonight, where Cole will fly out, and then Trevor will drive the rest of the way to his hometown in New York tomorrow. He’ll spend about a week there, hanging out with his family, before he heads back to Anaheim. 

They stayed up late last night, talking and making out until two in the morning. Honey just didn’t want the night to end, since it meant that Trevor would be leaving when they wake up. They showered together this morning, having one last round before Trevor goes. He’s a horndog, but Honey is just as bad. She’s about to be without her boyfriend consistently for nine months and now that she’s got sex back– and she’s enjoying it very much– it’s not fun to give up. 

The front door opens and Jack leads the way out. He has a plastic bag in hand, which holds a bit of leftover laundry. Honey bets he’s going to try and stuff it in his backpack, which really can’t fit anything else without the seams ripping. Cole has a pair of rollerskates draped over the back his neck, the laces acting like a loose scarf. 

Honey swallows hard, feeling a lump in her throat grow. It was so nice to have them here this summer. She got really close to each of the boys and she’s sad to see them go, devastated that a summer like this probably won’t ever happen again for them. Of course, Trevor plans to come back next year, but the Hughes boys will stay in Michigan and Cole might do the same. She hopes that he will come to visit, but Honey knows that Quinn won’t unless he and Bea get back together, and if Quinn won’t, then the other brothers won’t visit. It’s sad. 

Bea hops down from the tailgate and Honey follows suit. The air is heavy as the boys approach.

“So this is it,” Cole says. He’s smiling, but there’s a twinge of sadness written into the smile. He reaches for Bea and pulls her into a hug, then pulls Honey into the mix. He squeezes them tight, an arm wrapped around each of their shoulders while the girls hug his waist. “You guys are the best. If you ever want to visit Montréal…”

Honey pulls away and tweaks Cole’s cheek. “Thanks, Coley. You’re always welcome back, you know. If hockey doesn’t work out for you, I think Vera would hire you on the spot, even if Earl thinks you’re too little to work in hardware.”

Cole puffs out his chest and kisses Bea’s cheek before she reluctantly lets go of him. “Earl would be lucky to have a spring chicken like me on board.” He grows more serious. “But really,” he says. “This was a great summer. I’m glad we met you both. I don’t think we would’ve made it a month without you.”

“I don’t think you could’ve made it a week,” Honey replies and squeezes his hand one more time before he heads over to Trevor’s car, opening the trunk without all of the bags spilling out and tucking his skates away.

Luke comes up to Honey next, bending down to encircle his arms around her waist and tuck his face into the crook of her neck while he hugs her. “You have to come see us when we’re in Raleigh,” Luke says, his voice bordering on distress. 

Honey pets through Luke’s hair, relishing in the way the curls feel against her fingers. “Just send me a text and I’ll be on my way,” Honey promises. 

Luke tightens his arms around Honey’s waist. “I never had a big sister, but if I did, I think she’d be a lot like you.”

Honey just about bursts into tears on the spot. “Oh, Lukey,” she simpers miserably before hiding her face in his shoulder. “I would have loved to have a little brother like you.”

Luke exhales shakily and pulls back. He sniffs like he’s welling up, but there isn’t any mist in his eyes, unlike Honey, who is nearly spilling over. He kisses the top of Honey’s head and pats her shoulder with a clumsy hand before Jack switches places with him.

His goodbye hug is energetic, sweeping Honey off of her feet and spinning her around. “Stop crying,” he tells her. “It’s not like we’re dying. You’ll see us again, especially if you keep this idiot around.” He jerks his head in Trevor’s direction and grins widely at Honey. 

“Hey,” Trevor complains just for the principle of being annoyed, since Honey can tell there is no heat behind it. 

She chuckles and fixes Jack’s baseball cap. “I expect you’ll be texting me?”

“Every time I miss you,” Jack replies. 

“So as soon as you get in the car,” Honey teases. She tucks a strand of hair behind Jack’s ear and presses a loud smooch on his cheek. “I’ll miss you too, J.”

“We play the Canes like four times before January,” Jack says. “Once before Thanksgiving and once after Christmas. You’ll be in town for both, right?”

“‘Course I will. I never go anywhere,” Honey says. “Send me some tickets so I don’t have to pay for them and I’ll go to the game for you guys.”

“Cheap-ass,” Jack accuses. He pulls Honey in a second time and rocks back and forth on his feet, swinging them from side to side. “Thanks for being my buddy this summer.”

“You guys are all thanking me and Bea like we did anything at all,” Honey says with a crooked smile. “All we were was nice to you.”

“You didn’t have to be,” Jack tells her. He squishes her cheek. “But you were. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

“Text me when you land in Michigan.” Honey offers her pinkie to Jack and he takes it with his. He kisses the tip of his thumb and tells Honey to do the same. She complies, then she lets him go. 

It seems like she and Bea have the same idea, leaving their respective boys for their last goodbye. Trevor and Bea go around the side of the truck, talking quietly, and Quinn leans against the end of the tailgate with Honey. 

They stand in silence for a few moments, aware of each others’ presence but not feeling any pressure to speak– until Quinn does.

“I’m jealous that you guys have chosen to stay together,” Quinn says quietly.

Honey sighs and takes Quinn’s right hand in both of hers. “I’m sorry that y’all aren’t.”

Quinn inhales and presses his lips together. He looks down at the ground and scuffs his shoe against the gravel in the driveway. He forces a smile onto his face and lifts Honey’s hand in his to kiss the back of it. 

Honey takes one arm and wraps it around Quinn’s waist, resting her head on his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger, Quinn,” Honey murmurs.

Quinn nods. “Love you, Honey.”

“Love you too, Quinn. You’re a really great guy. I’m glad you were Bea’s first boyfriend.” Honey pats his side and distances herself from him. “Have a safe drive.”

“Next summer, you guys should come to Michigan,” Quinn offers. “We’d love to show you our town, since you showed us yours. You can stay as long as Ada will let you.”

Honey nods. “I’ll let you know closer to that date,” Honey informs him. “But I’m sure that would be nice. You have my number. Like I told Jack, you can text or call any time you want.”

“Not sure if Bea would like that,” Quinn responds with a shrug. “But I’ll keep it in mind. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

Honey chuckles. “I know too much about you to never see you again.”

Quinn has a funny look on his face, somewhere between bemused and sorrowful. He nods and pulls Honey in for a long hug, nose pressed against her hair. They stay like that until Trevor breaks it up. 

“Alright, alright,” he says with a haughty, macho tone. “Break it up. Get off my girlfriend, Hughes.” He pulls them apart with play force.

Bea stands behind him, laughing quietly. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she’s definitely been crying. She’s a sensitive girl, which Honey loves about her. 

Quinn notices almost immediately and goes to her, taking Bea’s hand. “Let’s get this over with,” Honey hears Quinn say. It makes Bea huff out a little laugh and they go to the side of the truck again, where Bea just was with Trevor.

Trevor touches Honey’s waist and pulls her close, their lower halves touching. “I love you,” he says earnestly. He peppers kisses over Honey’s face until she’s giggling and trying to get away from him. 

She squeals and puts her hand between their faces. “Stop,” she laughs. “I love you too. It won’t be too long before we see each other, you know. I don’t think you’ll make it a month without asking me to fly out because you miss me.”

“I’m going to injure myself on purpose so I can come back here and have you take care of me,” Trevor jokes.

Honey slaps his shoulder. “Don’t joke about that, I don’t want you to get hurt,” she says. “It would make me sad.”

Trevor’s smile softens. “Well, I wouldn’t want to make you sad.” He looks at Honey for an extra beat, then cradles her face in his hands and kisses her gently.

It’s really sweet. They’ve never really kissed like this, soft, chaste, and savoring it. Honey fists the fabric of Trevor’s t-shirt in her hands, focusing on his taste and how he moves. Yeah, they probably will see each other in a month, but she will probably forget how he kisses by then. It’ll be like new when she goes to California– ugh, she has to go to California of all places to see her boyfriend because he has an intense job– and Honey can’t wait.

When his hand goes to her butt and gropes her asscheek, she breaks their kiss. 

“Come on, one last feel,” Trevor requests. He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face because he knows that Honey will let him. 

“I have something better for you, you freak,” Honey tells him. She shoves her hand into her pocket and curls her fingers around the polaroids, fishing them out and pushing the stack into Trevor’s chest. 

He’s excited at the prospect of getting a gift, delight written on his face. He covers Honey’s hand, which covers the polaroids, and takes a peek at the first picture in the stack. His mouth automatically drops open and his face goes slack. He stares at the picture, looks at Honey, and doubles back down on the picture.

Honey feels a creeping shiver pass between her shoulderblades, whispering doubt into the back of her mind. You’ve given these pictures to him and it’s the start of the end, the voice purrs. Honey pushes it back, watching Trevor’s reaction instead. He’s terrible at hiding things on his face and Honey believes that if he’s going to abuse the boudoir pictures she just gave him, she’ll be able to see it in his expression.

“Holy shit, Hon,” Trevor says. He shoves the pictures back into her hands. “I can’t take these. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

It’s not the reaction Honey expected. She furrows her eyebrows together and asks genuinely, “Do you not… like them?”

Trevor’s eyes are wide. “No, God, no, you look so good and I like them, like, a lot, but because of what happened with Thomas–”

“Oh,” Honey says. “It’s– I wanted to show you that I trust you,” she explains. She pushes the pictures back at him. “I made them for you, I want you to have them.”

“I don’t,” Trevor struggles to say what he means, it seems. He looks at the pictures again, unable to help it, and lifts his eyes to the sky. He hides the pictures against his chest. “I don’t need them, if that’s what you think.”

“No.” Honey puts her hands on Trevor’s lovehandles and kisses him. “I want you to take them. They’re yours. Please take them.”

Trevor grinds his teeth, but weighs her words in his mind. After a moment, he shoves the pictures in his shorts pocket and wraps his arms around her shoulders. “You’re so special to me, Honey.”

“You’re overwhelming,” Honey replies, unable to find a word to describe how she feels about Trevor except for ‘overwhelming.’ He is. It’s not a bad thing, not at all. Honey adores Trevor.

Trevor’s mouth touches Honey’s forehead and stays there. She burrows her nose against his clavicle and breathes in deep. 

Trevor’s car horn sounds twice by Cole’s hand.

Trevor takes a deep breath and sighs. “I have to go,” he whispers.

Honey loosens her grip around his middle and kisses him one more time. “I’ll see you soon.”

It feels momentous when Trevor lets go of her and steps away. She’s not crying, but she feels like she could start any second. 

Bea joins Honey at the top of the driveway. Trevor’s car leads, honking far too jubilantly for the sadness weaving between Honey and Bea’s bodies like a cat brushing against their legs. The Hughes boys’ car follows after, and then they’re gone. Honey still feels their presence like a ghost, even as she and Bea push up the tailgate of Earl’s truck and head out themselves.

EPILOGUE – TREVOR

He thinks about her all the time. California is warm, but Trevor finds himself wearing Scarlett’s mismatched sweater more days than he doesn’t. It’s comfortable, and for a while, it smells like Litchton. He sits on his ugly couch, the one that Colangelo and McTavish make fun of, and watches the sunset through the windows of his house. It becomes a familiar routine. It’s usually too late to call Honey once he gets back from games since she’s three hours ahead, so Trevor finds other ways to express the things he wants to say to her. He’d text them, but that’s too brazen– he wants to speak to Honey and then let the words disappear forever. 

So, he sends letters. Out of sight, out of mind– once the letter leaves Trevor’s hand and makes its way into his mail carrier’s bag, the words are gone. It’s intimate and Honey has told Trevor many times over how much she likes receiving his letters, so much more than if she received the same thoughts over the phone. She always sends something back in a colorful envelope and Trevor traces her handwriting when he really misses her. 

With her permission, he’d included her in his summer dump on Instagram. He saw a few comments wondering who she and the other girl were, “the other girl” being Bea, but he never saw anything mean. He’d have exhausted all of his resources to hunt down any cyberbully who decided to take out their own insecurity on his girlfriend. He’d reported back his findings dutifully, telling Honey that everyone thought she was so pretty and out of his league. Honey had agreed.

Trevor had dutifully reported on summer dumps two other times: when Jack included the picture that Earl took of them at the going away party, Bea slung over his shoulder, and when Quinn quietly included a picture of Bea asleep on the couch in the basement, her hand wrapped loosely around his first two fingers. Her face was mostly obscured, but Trevor wasn’t sure if he should say something or not, so he’d asked Honey. Her face had gotten stormy– which was pretty cute, if Trevor is allowed to say that– but the picture had stayed up. Trevor is sure Honey and Bea handled it and he has a feeling that Bea might’ve felt a semblance of nostalgia when he’d screenshotted and sent the photo to her when she asked. They’re still broken up and not talking, but Trevor doesn’t know how long they can hold out. Honey says that Bea misses Quinn badly, but she’s still too stubborn to do anything. Trevor knows that Quinn is too stubborn to go against Bea’s wishes.

About a month into the season, Trevor wears the sweater to a game. Honey still hasn’t made it out to visit yet and Trevor is getting restless. He has a great game– greater than great– so it’s no surprise that he’s pulled for media after he showers and gets dressed, pulling the sweater on once again. 

Aly, the rinkside reporter, pulls him aside for a more one-on-one chat. Trevor expects that it’ll get clipped and thrown on the Ducks’ socials. They get all the way through the interview before she asks about his fashion choice. “This sweater is clearly handmade, so chic,” she adds on the side. “Where did you get it?”

“A friend made it for me,” Trevor replies. “This summer. It was a going away present, actually.”

“Well, it was a real good luck charm here tonight. You got your first career hat trick– do you think this luck will continue for you for the rest of the season?”

Trevor nods, only half-listening. He just caught a whiff of bonfire from the sweater, a scent memory that is accompanied by the creaking trees that shaded his balcony from wandering eyes. They didn’t make enough use of it. “I hope so,” he tells Aly. 

“It’s a wonderful start, given the rut you fell into last season after your injury. What are you doing differently?”

Trevor tries not to balk at the blatant mention of his broken ankle, the Jamie trade, and his struggles to come back from those events. He rubs his right eye with a closed fist and forces a tight smile on his face, speaking more honestly than he normally allows himself to. “I told my girlfriend that every goal I score this season is for her, so I have to score a lot. Keep me on her mind, you know?”

Aly chuckles. “You’ve got to find motivation somewhere,” she says good-naturedly. “Thanks, Trevor.”

“Yeah, thanks, Aly,” he replies. He walks back into the locker room, ready to grab his bag and his keys and book it out of the arena so that he can crash on his bed, when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He slips it out, catching his favorite contact name on the screen. He can hear the eye roll as if she’s talking to him, right next to his ear.

🍯:

Don’t fucking bring me into thisI don’t want crowds of famous Trevor Zegras’ hockey groupies in Litchton when you come back next summer

Then, a few minutes later:

Nice sweater ;)

THANK YOU FOR READING!!! I LOVE YOU!!!! XO, ANDY P.S. See you in Beaquinn's book ;)

[vicsbasement]

Watching Charles closely I came to believe that he might have abandonment issues (for obvious reasons), so yeah, I guess he hasn’t been taking Carlos’ departure from the team very well… Of course Carlos isn’t actively abandoning him, but anyways

Ohmygod, anon. You're absolutely right. I mean, it's a logical response to his past trauma, too. I'm not presuming to know the guy, but from what I can see, I just feel like he's really going through the trenches right now. I'm not going to say that they're extremely close, but, just from what we've been able to see about their relationship and the way they talk about each other, I'm ready to assume that they really seem to be close, especially now that we can see Charles visibly reacting to Carlos' departure from the team. I'm pretty sure there's not an ounce of bad blood between them, especially since they've been seeming so much closer ever since before Vegas. I feel like their friendship had time to develop towards the end of their third year together (trauma bonding and all things provided by a very rocky Ferrari car that put them both in uncomfortable situations that only both of them could understand) and so, now that that was blooming, to have it taken from them must be tough. Carlos has been brought up to be much less emotional about his relationships in the paddock, based on interviews alone, yet I think he's been saving up some emotion for their alone time. Charles, though... he seems to be that guy who wears his heart on his sleeve sometimes, and when it comes to this, he doesn't seem too shy to let people know that he really does like Carlos as a teammate and as a person. I mean, they have so much in common, everyone's said it, Mattia, Fred, constantly talking about their competitiveness and how close they'd become when they started to make everything a race... and they probably know each other well. They've shared small spaces, probably had important conversations with one another, they're both in a position where nobody else would get it, except for the other. And they've never, EVER shown disrespect towards each other. So, yeah. Carlos might not be abandoning Charles, but they're both in rather similar situations, and to bring Lewis into the mix, Lewis, with the bigger salary, with the seven titles, with the past experience... it should be something that makes Charles take pause and probably appreciate what he has right now with a guy who's basically in the same level as himself in terms of... I don't know, I guess gravitas. Lewis has so much, and Charles has the whole team behind him, and yet he turns to Carlos as a friend? Maybe we're not seeing how much of an equal footing they have between each other. They've probably discussed even this between them and Charles must be feeling so comfortable with Carlos by his side... This whole thing rocks his whole world, and I would love Carlos' security just as much as Charles is probably appreciating it right now. Sorry, I got totally off the rails with this, but the point is: what this shows me is that Charles really does care, deeply, about Carlos. And it's a wonder to see, honestly. If I were to be completely honest, I saw their relationship much more unilaterally. I felt like Carlos liked Charles more than he liked Carlos. But right now? Wow. I really do see how much Charles seems to appreciate Carlos' company and friendship as a teammate. And it's an absolute relief to me. The fact that he started the year defending Carlos from the italian press and insisting, on record, that they should focus on the fact that they have a whole year together out of "RESPECT FOR CARLOS"? Wow, Charles. You had my eye, before, but right now, you finally caught my attention. Thank you for sending me this ask, anon! I love analyzing stuff and the content has been pouring lately, so I love just to be able to talk about these two guys without restraints 😅

[greatqueenanna]

I will be updating the Frozen 3 news post soon, but wanted to throw in some thoughts regarding the new info.

So, firstly, I’m happy that the film is being delayed to 2027. That may sound shocking, but this is a big relief to me. The first two films both suffered from trying to meet a deadline, and the creators (this is probably more on the company though) refusing to delay and give themselves more time. Thus, both films have rushed elements.

It gives me hope that not only is the story being written into two films, but now they are giving themselves even more time to polish it. Especially concerning the sheer amount of story content that they want to explore— and it’s a lot.

I’ve condensed all of the questions brought on during the announcement into 5 major sections, all concerning a specific idea.

*Quick Edit* I moved the question about the Frozen Heart down from More Ahtohallan Lore to the Prince Hans section because that was always more associated with Hans, so I thought it would be more appropriate to have under that section instead.

First Major Plot Point — More Ahtohallan Lore

Why Ahtohallan has castle ruins inside of it.

The previous Fifth Spirit.

Where did the Spirits come from?

Second Major Plot Point — Elsa’s Powers

Why are her powers still growing?

Who gave her the powers?

How are her creations, like Olaf, alive?

Why doesn’t Anna have powers?

Third Major Plot Point — Arendelle Royalty

How is Anna doing as Queen?

Is Kristoff going to become King?

Are Anna and Kristoff interested in having kids?

Fourth Major Plot Point — Kristoff’s Past

Where are Kristoff’s parents?

How did Kristoff meet Sven?

Why is Sven still full of energy if he’s so old?

Fifth Major Plot Point — Prince Hans

What happened to Hans?

Who exactly is the Frozen Heart?

With all this in mind, on the concept art, not only do we see people in the castle above the sisters, we also see an ominous, viking-like shadow behind Anna and Elsa — meaning that if these are new characters, then that means that we have a giant cast at the moment.

Elsa

Anna

Kristoff

Sven

Olaf

Mattias

Yelena

Honeymaren

Ryder

Hans

Viking Shadow Guy

Castle People

Like….they’re doing the “Too much stuff, not enough space” thing again and I’m genuinely concerned haha. Thus, the delay and split into two films is a smart move. But why not just make a show? Like this screams series. Idk haha.

Also, there are a few things here that I actually thought were answered already — like, who gave Elsa her powers? Ahtohallan because of Iduna’s sacrifice. Why doesn’t Anna have powers? She’s the human side of the Fifth Spirit. But I suppose that F2 wasn’t exactly clear on these things, so maybe they want to better explore these ideas and clear up some misconceptions. Makes sense I suppose.

Also, the fact that they’re asking if Kristoff will be King or not is giving me some validation lol. I always said that Kristoff would be called a King and not Prince Consort and so far it looks like they’re considering the King title and not anything else. But we’ll see haha.

Now I’m curious what you guys think. Poll time.

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Lightning On My Lips (Every Time You Kiss Me)

19 - Home Was A Dream, One I'd Never Seen, Til You Came Along

Pairing: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: SMUT, talkin' bout babies again, piv, rough!Tyler (even when he's rough he's gentle though)

A/N: This was a little self indulgent hehehe

Playlist

Kate and Javi left the next morning, heading to her mom’s to clean up the old barn and set up a base for themselves. Tyler was going to suggest they just set everything up here, but he didn’t have full reign of the property quite yet. Emmaleigh and Mattias' things were all still here. Good thing about that was that they could use Mattias’ tools. So Tyler had begun to tinker with Georgia’s truck again. It was mostly body work that needed to happen and luckily Tyler was pretty handy at that, so over the next few days, he didn’t see much of Georgia as she had begun to clean up her saddles and bridles and get the two mares back into light work. She was mostly just walking them around the arena in hand, but it was a start. She’d sat in the house for a bit on her laptop, wondering if Tyler had been serious about getting her another horse.

She looked through some of her old Facebook groups and Instagram accounts. She hadn’t touched any of it for the past year or so, after the mares had retired. She still had messages from old friends asking if she could help them with their horses. She decided to message a few of them, offering her services if they were interested. She was surprised when over the next few hours she received several messages asking her when they could trailer out to the ranch and take a lesson.She even had a girl ask about working for her in exchange for lessons. She took a break, trying to digest what exactly was going on. She went out to the garage and found Tyler underneath her truck, having changed into a tattered hi-vis yellow t-shirt that had the name of Bobby’s garage on the back. He heard her dainty booted footsteps and crawled out from under the truck, standing and wiping his hands on a rag that he’d hung from the damaged side mirror. He’d replace those completely soon enough. 

He smiled at her. “I’d kiss ya but I’m kinda fuckin’ disgustin’.” He said, and she leaned against her truck. She was quiet and glanced down, toeing the ground, tapping her heel, and then sighing deeply. Tyler stepped closer, his fingertips gently connecting with her upper arms. “What’s’matter, Peach?”

“I messaged a few people about teaching. I had some replies. Even someone asking to work for me in exchange for lessons.” She murmured and Tyler’s grip tightened and he did kiss her, and he smelled like diesel and oil, but she was totally fine with that. 

“That’s amazin’! You gonna take her up on that?” Tyler asked and she shrugged.

“I wanted to ask you if you thought it was a good idea. I feel like if I’m gonna do this, I should try to write up some contracts and rules and shit. We have six more stalls...I could offer boarding as long as they’re not high maintenance...but we’d need to separate the pastures because Wilene will beat the shit outta other horses. She only doesn’t kill Twist because they’ve lived together their whole life.” Georgia explained and Tyler stepped away, nodding his head in agreement at all of her thoughts.

“I think that all sounds great. I think it’s up to you...I know you wanna include me, but it’s ultimately your decision. I’m just the labor.” He joked and Georgia smacked him lightly on his arm.

“You’re not just the labor, Tyler. You’re a part of this too. You included me in everythin’ with Kate and Javi, even though I only had a basic understanding of some of the shit you were talkin’ about. I wanna include you.” Georgia said, invading his space. She could smell his cologne through the diesel soot and engine oil and the mixture of it sent a shiver down her spine. Her cheeks went rosy as she gazed up at him.

“ Oh, Peach...” He purred, noticing her complexion change as their bodies connected, belt buckles clinking together. “You know how pretty you look when you want somethin’ from me? And God , I’ll give you everythin ’, that I fuckin’ promise.” His tone slid down an octave, still bearing softness and sensuality in several notes, and Georgia’s lips turned up, lids lowered, as she draped her arms around his well-built shoulders. His hands landed at her hips and drew her in. They stayed quietly connected for a few more moments before they parted. 

“Can I help with my truck?” Georgia asked and Tyler kissed her once again.

“Nah, Peach, you can answer those people back and look pretty while doin’ it though. Lemme play around with the truck a bit more and then I’ll come in and make dinner for you. Boone and Lily should be here in a day or two.” Tyler explained and Georgia nodded and smiled, as she waved and turned to head back into the house.

Twist and Wilene whinnied as they saw her come from the garage, so she stopped to give them some love before going to sit on the porch with the puppies. The puppies who had settled right into being wonderful little farm dogs, and had been relaxing by the front door, waiting for Tyler and Georgia to come back. They had become accustomed to their humans flitting around, doing all kinds of things so if the puppies didn’t feel like it, they didn’t follow, and just chilled out on the porch.

Georgia sat in the rocking chair on the porch, answered some messages and emails, 

When Boone and Lily arrived the next afternoon, Tyler let the puppies out first. Boone jumped up and down with excitement and Lily immediately sat on the ground, so she could get bowled over by the three puppies. Tyler stepped down off the porch, making his way to the truck, a newer Dodge, another dual-wheeled diesel but with a long bed, painted a dark pine green. It had a rack like Tyler’s truck and bright KC lights, a busted tail light, a fucked up tailgate and performance shocks underneath. With some modifications, and welding a roll cage onto the frame, it would be tornado ready by next season. 

“Boone, we’re gonna look like fuckin’ Christmas chasin’ these storms.” Tyler joked and they hugged and shook hands. Tyler hugged Lily too and proceeded then to check over every inch of the truck with Boone. Georgia came outside a few minutes later and hugged Lily.

“How are you doin’?” Lily asked, and Georgia smirked. 

“Did Tyler tell you yet?” She asked and Lily shook her head.

“Tell us what?” Boone inquired as he pulled Georgia into a tight hug as they’d rounded off looking at the truck. Tyler put his hands on his hips and smiled.

“Gee and I are havin’ a baby.” Tyler said, proudly, and both Boone and Lily’s eyes went wide before Boone jumped in the air and whooped loudly. He skipped around for a couple seconds, then hugged Tyler and Georgia separately and then he kissed Lily, which took her by surprise.

“We’re gonna be Uncle Booney and Auntie Lily, baby!” He exclaimed and Lily just smiled and pulled Georgia into an embrace. 

🌪⛈️🌪

Georgia stared out the window over the kitchen sink, taking a sip of water and feeling immediate nausea. She wished it would stop, but now she knew the reason. She just wished she could have it both ways, because a few weeks in and the nausea was draining her completely. She had no problem with being pregnant, but the morning sickness was horrible, and sometimes it would persist into the afternoon. Today in particular was a bad day, halfway through the morning and she’d just gotten out of bed. Tyler spent day and night with Georgia, hidden away in their-soon-to-be home and even though he was always doing something, he made sure he made time to check in with Georgia, even if they weren’t in the immediate vicinity of each other. 

He’d been out most of the morning, having come back in several times to check on her. This time he was thinking maybe he was getting hungry, and he wanted to see if Georgia was feeling up to eating anything yet. She’d made a doctor’s appointment at his behest, knowing that he was worried about how severe her morning sickness had been right away. She wasn’t at a point that it was debilitating, but Tyler was ready at any moment to take her to the emergency room if needed. 

She heard footsteps behind her but she didn’t look because she knew it was him. She could tell by the slight hesitation in his left foot as he stepped. It was as if he didn’t place all of his weight across the whole bottom of his foot. If he did, he’d get a sharp sting running up his leg and through his hip. It was the smallest limp, but it was noticeable to her. She’d clocked it the first time she’d met him and he had been pretty damn good at hiding it, but he always let his guard down around her, especially if they were alone. He knew he could relax and show a little weakness with her. She accepted him as he was.

She felt a hand weave around her waist. The other around her jaw, turning her head slightly so that he could capture her lips with his. His body was warm as it enclosed her from behind, his hips pressing hers into the counter. In fact, his shirt was sweat soaked and she could smell the soot from the trucks on him. 

“How ya feelin’? He asked, his voice raspy and deep. Georgia pushed her back into his chest and his hand that was on her jaw traveled down to cup a tender breast and begin to knead it gently through her tank top. “I just sent Boone and Lily to the store for a few things. Should be back in a half hour or so...” He said, as Georgia moaned softly at the feel of his hand on her tits. They were so sore and his warm, calloused hands felt wonderful to her. His other hand pulled up the hem of her shirt, fingers caressing circles around her belly button.

“Tyler...I...” She began but she gave up saying much of anything as he ground his hips against hers. She reached down and unzipped her jeans. She pulled them down just enough to expose her most sensitive parts to the humid air. Tyler did the same, freeing his cock from the confines of his tight jeans. He licked his lips as he pressed kisses up and down the side of her neck and cheek. He moved her hair to one side so that he could nibble her earlobe and kiss her jaw. 

“You want me right here, over the kitchen sink, darlin’? He asked, lust evident in his tone as it took on a thick and sweet quality that only reminded her of a top shelf bourbon that they used to never be able to afford.

“Yes, Tyler, please.” She groaned, not wanting to wait any longer. The nausea had gone, and more than a few times now it was because Tyler had come in, hot and heavy and ready to fuck her again. Her desire for him overcame everything at this point. She knew a lot of it was her hormones were on overdrive, but Tyler certainly wasn’t helping any. He took his length in hand, swiped it through her very wet and very ready folds before pushing inside her. She grasped for purchase on the window sill with one hand, and the counter on the other. Tyler pressed forward, wrapping one arm around her waist, holding her away from the edge of the counter so she wouldn’t have bruises. His other hand intertwined with hers on the window sill, as he thrust, rough and sloppy. 

“Oh, fuck, Ty!” Georgia’s moans were long and drawn out as he continued carelessly rutting into her. His grip tightened, lack of rhythm apparent as he struggled to connect his lips with her neck. The only sounds that reached her ears then were their belt buckles jingling, the slap of their skin together as Tyler thrust roughly in and out, and his breath at her ear, whispering the dirtiest shit he’d ever said to her. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ naughty girl, Gee. Where else you gonna let me fuck you, darlin’, huh?” He asked, voice deep as the depths of the ocean with an almost animalistic yearning. Few times had she felt Tyler like this, and she knew when he was this riled up, he was tired. 

“Wherever you want, Ty. Whenever you want.” She breathed, as he thrust once more, coming undone. She didn’t even need to finish, because the feeling of him spilling inside her, as he bent her over the kitchen sink, had her pretty damn satisfied. 

“Goddamn, Peach. I almost forgot how wild you are.” His words were drawn out, strained, as pressed his nose into her neck, breathing in the faint fruity scent of her shampoo and soap, mixed with her sweat. His hips stuttered and stilled, as he settled in weight behind her, his knees shaky. He’d feel this later. 

“Why are we so horny, Ty?” She asked jokingly and it made him laugh and press his lips to the back of her neck. He sighed, resting his head against her back. She settled over the sink, nostrils flaring, feeling nausea creep up again, but she pushed it down as best as she could. 

“Cause we’re in fuckin’ love, Gee. We’re stupid in love.” He said as he reached up to pull her shirt aside so he could kiss her shoulder. He rubbed his stubbly cheek against her soft skin before stepping away. She felt a rush of warmth and emptiness as he pulled out. She whimpered and glanced over her shoulder at him. He was tucking himself back in jeans and she wiggled her own back up. 

“We should probably clean ourselves up before Boone and Lily get back. This kitchen smells like sex.” Tyler laughed and he grabbed her hand, not even letting her zip her jeans.

“But Ty, I was...” Georgia began and he shushed her.

“ Peach, I can fuck you again in the shower .” He smirked and guided her up the stairs. 

“You’re so bad.” She mused, her grin widening, and he kissed her, twirling her slowly before they reached the bathroom.

“You said I could have you anywhere, anytime. Figure we should take advantage of the alone time.” He said and she giggled, nearly jumping on him as they passed the threshold of the bathroom.

[compneuropapers]

Interesting Papers for Week 2, 2025

A geometrical solution underlies general neural principle for serial ordering. Di Antonio, G., Raglio, S., & Mattia, M. (2024). Nature Communications, 15, 8238.

Beyond Neyman–Pearson: E-values enable hypothesis testing with a data-driven alpha. Grünwald, P. D. (2024). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 121(39), e2302098121.

Prefrontal and lateral entorhinal neurons co-dependently learn item–outcome rules. Jun, H., Lee, J. Y., Bleza, N. R., Ichii, A., Donohue, J. D., & Igarashi, K. M. (2024). Nature, 633(8031), 864–871.

Human brain state dynamics are highly reproducible and associated with neural and behavioral features. Lee, K., Ji, J. L., Fonteneau, C., Berkovitch, L., Rahmati, M., Pan, L., … Anticevic, A. (2024). PLOS Biology, 22(9), e3002808.

Distinct ventral hippocampal inhibitory microcircuits regulating anxiety and fear behaviors. Li, K., Koukoutselos, K., Sakaguchi, M., & Ciocchi, S. (2024). Nature Communications, 15, 8228.

Characterizing the dynamics, reactivity and controllability of moods in depression with a Kalman filter. Malamud, J., Guloksuz, S., van Winkel, R., Delespaul, P., De Hert, M. A. F., Derom, C., … Huys, Q. J. M. (2024). PLOS Computational Biology, 20(9), e1012457.

The homogenous hippocampus: How hippocampal cells process available and potential goals. McNaughton, N., & Bannerman, D. (2024). Progress in Neurobiology, 240, 102653.

Decision uncertainty as a context for motor memory. Ogasa, K., Yokoi, A., Okazawa, G., Nishigaki, M., Hirashima, M., & Hagura, N. (2024). Nature Human Behaviour, 8(9), 1738–1751.

Maintenance and transformation of representational formats during working memory prioritization. Pacheco-Estefan, D., Fellner, M.-C., Kunz, L., Zhang, H., Reinacher, P., Roy, C., … Axmacher, N. (2024). Nature Communications, 15, 8234.

Dense and Persistent Odor Representations in the Olfactory Bulb of Awake Mice. Pirhayati, D., Smith, C. L., Kroeger, R., Navlakha, S., Pfaffinger, P., Reimer, J., … Moss, E. H. (2024). Journal of Neuroscience, 44(39), e0116242024.

Contrastive learning explains the emergence and function of visual category-selective regions. Prince, J. S., Alvarez, G. A., & Konkle, T. (2024). Science Advances, 10(39).

Independent operations of appetitive and aversive conditioning systems lead to simultaneous production of conflicting memories in an insect. Rahman, S., Terao, K., Hashimoto, K., & Mizunami, M. (2024). Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, 291(2031).

Effects of visual diet on colour discrimination and preference. Skelton, A. E., Maule, J., Floyd, S., Wozniak, B., Majid, A., Bosten, J. M., & Franklin, A. (2024). Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, 291(2031).

Neural network architecture of a mammalian brain. Swanson, L. W., Hahn, J. D., & Sporns, O. (2024). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 121(39), e2413422121.

Saccadic “inhibition” unveils the late influence of image content on oculomotor programming. Taylor, R., Buonocore, A., & Fracasso, A. (2024). Experimental Brain Research, 242(10), 2281–2294.

Mental programming of spatial sequences in working memory in the macaque frontal cortex. Tian, Z., Chen, J., Zhang, C., Min, B., Xu, B., & Wang, L. (2024). Science, 385(6716).

Humans flexibly integrate social information despite interindividual differences in reward. Witt, A., Toyokawa, W., Lala, K. N., Gaissmaier, W., & Wu, C. M. (2024). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 121(39), e2404928121.

Different Sensory Information Is Used for State Estimation when Stationary or Moving. Wong, A. L., Eyssalenne, A. N., Carter, L., & Therrien, A. S. (2024). eNeuro, 11(9), ENEURO.0357-23.2024.

A shared model-based linguistic space for transmitting our thoughts from brain to brain in natural conversations. Zada, Z., Goldstein, A., Michelmann, S., Simony, E., Price, A., Hasenfratz, L., … Hasson, U. (2024). Neuron, 112(18), 3211-3222.e5.

Geometric Scaling Law in Real Neuronal Networks. Zhang, X.-Y., Moore, J. M., Ru, X., & Yan, G. (2024). Physical Review Letters, 133(13), 138401.

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 50:

All along there was some Invisible String tying you to me

Masterlist - Previous - Next

Charles POV:

I listened to Lizzie talking about her latest meeting with Susie, how they defined her role in the F1 Academy, what her tasks were from now on and I couldn't be more proud of her. She was passionate, dedicated, willing to put her heart and soul into the Academy.

"… for now Susie thinks what the girls need is some kind of mentor, someone who has been in their shoes and she said that I would be the perfect person for that. I would check in on the girls, make sure they're in the right head space, offer advice. But Susie thinks on race weekends we should establish kind of a workshop day? Debrief the latest race, show some deficits, maybe figure out ways too improve certain aspects!" her voice was filled with positivity and optimism, her eyes shining like never before.

"That sounds amazing cara mia. I think the girls are really lucky to have a mentor like you by their side." I replied and she nodded, a big smile adorning her beautiful face.

"How's it going in Maranello? How's Lewis settling in?" she asked, disappearing out of the picture for a moment.

"It's going great, I think our car development made a big step forwards compared to last season… and with Lewis' input? God he's so experienced! He knows things about the car, even some of the junior engineers didn't know! I honestly think with Lewis we can not just win the driver's championship, but also the constructors this season!"

"I'm so happy for you, Charles. I always said, getting rid of Seb back in 2021 was the biggest mistake Ferrari made. He could've helped develop the car, help you to get a new understanding and knowledge of it. Mattia really messed up a lot of things for you..." she mumbled, still out of frame.

"What are you doing?" I asked and her head plopped up from above.

"Wedding stuff..." she wiggled her eyebrows and I smiled.

"Are you... are you wearing your dress? Wait? You've picked out a dress already? How? When?" I rambled and she laughed. but then returned to her seat, still wearing my sweater and held up our invitations "Cara mia... I thought we already sent those out weeks ago?" I pointed to the invitations in her hands.

"That were the save the date cards." Lizzie rolled her eyes.

"What the hell are save the date cards?"

"When you don't have all the details planned out like location and time frame, but want people to save the date... that way you're not under pressure with these important details but know that all the people you want to attend already sa-..."

" ...saved the date, got it. And now we have all the details?"

"I though so? You liked the venue? Or not? Charles it's perfect, but if you don't like it, then I'll call Celiné..." she began but I shook my head.

"Relax, cara mia! I love the venue! It really is perfect, and I can't wait to get married there! Sorry!" I said, smiling at her sheepishly "Did you go over the guest list?"

"Yup... it's a lot of people..." she sighed, and I leaned back.

"It's our families and friends, also the most important people from our teams, some of the drivers, the ones we're close with... so... yeah. How many guest as of now?"

"107... or wait... 110..." she wrote something down and I cocked an eyebrow "I want to invite Susie as well! She was really helpful over the past years and now that I work with her? And when I invite her, we have to invite Toto and Jack as well... I hope that's okay?"

"Of course! Its already more guest from me... so please, go ahead and make it equal.." I chuckled but she shook her head.

"No... that's already way more guests then intended..." her eyes glimmering mischievous.

"You hope that a lot of people will politely respond with a I'm sorry, we can't make it..." I smirked and she nodded slightly.

"Am I a bad person? It's just... god, that's so many people!" she said sheepishly and I laughed.

"It's okay, really... I know it's a lot of people, but it will be fine, okay?"

"Okay..." she huffed out, her phone being smacked down

"Arlo! Stop! I know you heard his voice but stop..." Lizzie propped up the phone again and Arlo was mostly covering her up "He wanted to say hi..."

"Hey baby boy... I miss you so much!" I cooed and he tilted his head, barking quietly "I'll be back on Friday, I promise!" he whined a little, licked the phone and then strut off, Lizzie only shaking her head.

"You'll be back by Friday?" she asked, and I nodded.

"Yep. Tomorrow's the car launch, on Wednesday we have a virtual fan meet and greet and on Thursday I'll be in the simulator the whole day... I wouldn't miss Valentine's Day!"

"What?" her eyes got wide, and she swallowed hard.

"Valentines Day cara mia... Friday..." I tilted my head a little and she smiled nervously "Did you forget?"

"No! Of course not!"

"Because if so, that would be fine, you're planning our wedding, work with Susie, take care of Arlo... it's a lot!"

"Hmm... okay..." she whispered, looking to the left.

"Lizzie? It's no big deal, okay? Really!" I tried to reassure her, and she nodded slowly.

"Okay... you have to go now, Charlie. You said you only have a couple of minutes... we're almost talking for an hour now..

"I can't help it, time flies when I talk with the love of my life..." I chuckled and Lizzie blushed a little "I'll call you tonight, pretty girl, I love you."

"I love you more..." she replied and hung up.

I sent her a quick text, stating that I, in fact, loved her more when Lewis walked in.

"Look at you, smiling from ear to ear... tell Lizzie I say hi..." he said and sat down on the other side of the table.

"Will do... but she won't reply, so she'll say hi back later." I pocketed my phone and he looked up from his.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked and I laughed.

"No, the opposite actually... we have a little dispute about something, to be continued.

"Toto told me that Susie is really excited having Lizzie work with her." he said and I had to smile.

"You should've heard Lizzie. She's going to pour her heart and soul into the F1 Academy."

"The girls really are lucky, they will learn so much from Lizzie..."

"They will.." I replied right when Silvia walked in with the rest of the media and PR team.

"Gentlemen, ready?" she clapped once and sat down "Let's go over the schedules for the next two days..." I couldn't wait to go back home.

I unlocked the door quietly, closing it carefully and slipped off my shoes. The penthouse was quiet, no sound, nothing. I showered quickly in one of the guest bedroom’s ensuites, slipped on some clean sweat pants and a shirt before I quietly opened up our bedroom door. Arlo lifted his head immediately, wagging his tail when he saw me, jumping off of the bed’s end.

"Hey big boy." I kneeled down, engulfing him in a hug, stroking his sides "Shhh… we don’t want to wake up Lizzie, no?" I whispered and got up, slipping into the bed behind Lizzie, Arlo looking at me "Get in… we definitely have to talk about how you always sleep in my bed when I’m gone. That’s my bed." I chuckled and he made himself comfortable at the foot of the bed.

Lizzie began to stir, turning around, facing me.

"Charles?" she whispered, eyes still closed "What time is it?"

"Way too early to be awake…" I yawned and she scooted over closer, snuggling into my chest.

"I missed you…"

"I missed you too, but at least you had someone sharing the bed with you… I was alone…"

"You want to share the bed with someone else?" she pouted and I had to chuckle, pecking her lips.

"Only with the most beautiful girl in the world… and our fur baby… who has a super comfy bed and still sleeps in ours…"

"Just when you’re gone… I don’t like… sleeping alone…" her voice sleepy.

"I’m here now, cara mia, let’ sleep for a little or not so little while…" I kissed her forehead and she already fell asleep "I love you more."

I closed my eyes and pulled Lizzie closer, feeling her hot breath against my neck.

"No. I love you more." she mumbled against my chest and I chuckled to myself.

Even asleep she was the most stubborn girl ever. Arlo cuddled up against our feet and I fell asleep almost immediately.

I watched Lizzie dance around the kitchen, a soft smile on her lips, headphones on, singing along to Taylor Swift as usual. Her voice as beautiful as ever. After a couple of minutes Arlo trotted into the kitchen, brushing her legs and made her flinch.

"Fucking hell, you scared me…" she put her hand on her chest, turning around "How long have you been back?"

"10 minutes maybe?" I walked in, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in "I enjoyed the show."

"What show? Me ruining Taylor’s songs?" Lizzie chuckled, looking away but I gently grabbed her chin, looking at her.

"How often do I have to tell you that you have a beautiful voice?"

"Until it’s the truth?"

"I would never lie to you, cara mia." I said pointedly and she rolled her eyes "Hey!"

"Okay, okay…" she pecked my lips and then pulled away, bending down booping Arlos nose "Are you hungry my big boy?"

"Yeah, I could eat…" I replied, knowing full well that she didn’t talk to me "I get his food."

"Alright. I’ll finish the cake. Shima is coming tomorrow so I thought I’ll make a cake."

"So Shima gets a cake? And what do I get?" I pouted a little.

"Umm-… I thought we could order from Antonio’s? I called if they have a table for us but they’re fully booked! I’m sorry… I- I did forget that today’s Valentine’s Day and so I didn’t make any reservations and when you reminded me it was already too late…" Lizzie rambled and I sat down Arlo’s bowl and then cupped her cheeks.

"It’s okay! I told you already that it’s fine! You have so much going on right now! And hey, I don’t mind staying in tonight. Ordering food. Watching a movie. Just you and me."

"And Arlo." she whispered and I laughed.

"And Arlo." I kissed her forehead and hugged her "I’d say I take a shower, you order something and then we’ll have a quiet Valentine’s Day."

"Okay…"

I pulled away and left to take sad shower, putting on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, walking back into the now empty kitchen.

"Cara mia?" I called after her but got no answer "Lizzie are you upstairs?" I walked up the stairs and stopped abruptly when I stepped into the living room.

Hundreds of candles were lit up, the sofas pushed together. The created space littered with plush pillows and cozy blankets. The table on the side full of my favourite food, pasta, pizza, Calabrese salad, Lizzie’s red velvet cupcakes. Bowls of chips, crackers and popcorn. Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone ready to be watched on the big screen.

"Wha-…"

"Happy Valentine’s Day." Lizzie stepped around the corner, wearing a gorgeous black nightgown, hugging her curves perfectly.

"Cara mia…" I whispered and pulled her into me "Wow… this… you… wow…"

"You like it?" she smiled shyly and I kissed her, pulling her even closer "I guess that’s a yes then?"

"I love it. I love you. This is-… it’s perfect, Lizzie. Just like you." I kissed her again and when I pulled away her cheeks were red.

"Come on, before the food gets cold…" she said and nodded towards the food.

"Did you plan this all along?"

"Honestly? No. I did forget that today was Valentine’s Day… but then I had a couple of days to think about something… and that’s what I came up with." she loaded our plates with the food.

"You’re amazing. This makes my gift look like nothing…" I sighed a little but she just laughed and climbed onto the sofa, getting comfortable.

"Oh this is just the beginning." she wiggled her eyebrows and I looked at her.

"Oh?"

"Mhh…" she moved a little closer, kissing my cheek "I wear something red underneath…"

"Yeah?" I swallowed hard and looked at her, her mischievous smile more than enticing.

"Ferrari red…"

"No alcohol? Like nothing? Not even a glass of champagne?" Shima looked at me and I shook my head "It's your birthday!"

"It's not good for the skin! I've read so many articles about how it helps to smoothen out the skin and make it look fresher."

"Your skin is as smooth as a baby's butt!" she rolled her eyes but then snapped her head around looking at me with wide eyes "Are you pregnant?"

"What? No! Shima, you gave me a ton of bridal magazines to read and in every second one is an article about brides that didn't drink alcohol for a year before their big day! I’m marrying in 3 months!" I said and she held up her hands.

"Okay! Sorry... jeez.." he rolled her eyes "How are your mum and Pascale holding up? Not being involved in the planning?"

"Honestly? They're totally okay with it... at first, they were a little... sad? But they're okay with it now. And Celiné is doing an amazing job. You should see the locations she had for us! The one we chose! Amazing, seriously." I beamed.

"Yeah, she did an amazing job with the designer of your dress as well. Monique Lhuillier was the perfect choice for you, and I think when the dress is ready with all the details it will look stunning. I mean just the blank canvas looked amazing on you! Your mum, Pascale, Sissy, they all cried..."

"You did too!" I pushed her a little and she laughed.

"No, that was my allergies..."

"Sure, if you say so..." I chuckled when Daniel sat down next to us.

"Ladies..." he winked at us and held up his glass "Cheers to our birthday girl, soon to be Mrs Leclerc..." he wiggled his eyebrows, and I shook my head, laughing.

"Mrs. Doetterer-Leclerc please.." I said and grabbed my glass, holding it up as well.

"Is that water? We can't toast with water? Why are you drinking water? It's your birthday!" he made big eyes "Oh my god, you're pregnant!"

"She's not, she just wants her skin to be fresh and smooth for the wedding..." Shima explained, rolling her eyes.

"And not drinking alcohol helps with that?" Daniel looked at me confused.

"Yeah, alcohol is not really the best for your skin, I mean it's not really the best for your whole body.." I sighed and he nodded.

"Well okay then... how's the wedding planning going? Charles said you’re doing an amazing job with Celeste?"

"Celiné. And yeah, she makes it so much easier for me… you know with the F1 Academy and all, it’s a little hectic but she’s really amazing at what she’s doing." I took a sip of my water, looking around the room.

"The F1 Academy will race in Australia as well?" Daniel asked and I nodded.

"Yup. Susie did an amazing job with this year’s schedule! 10 races! That’s 3 more than last season!" I replied excitedly.

"So you’ll be at all the weekends with F1 Academy races and then some more?"

"I don’t know yet. Of course there will be more to do than just attend the race weekends! I just need to talk to Susie what she expects from me and what else I can do besides the tasks we already discussed…"

"You’ll figure it out, I have no doubts!" Charles said, sitting down next to me.

"How are you doing? Starting your first season as a Formula 1 world champion?" Daniel looked at him and he shrugged his shoulders a little.

"It feels like it’s less pressure than before on the one hand, because now I already won a championship, it’s out of the way finally. But on the other hand? It’s more pressure because everyone expects me to win again straight away because well now I’m a world champion… does that make sense?" he looked at me and I nodded.

"Of course it makes sense!" I reassure him and he smiled "But don’t worry, you’ll be just great."

"Yeah I guess we’ll see…"

"How is it working with Lewis?"

"He’s incredible. He reminds me a lot of Seb, the way he approaches things, how he asks questions, wants to now every single detail…" Charles smiled.

"You think you can win the constructors as well this year?" Daniel asked and Charles shrugged his shoulders.

"Let’s see first how Australia turns out…"

"Didn’t I say, don’t worry? I saw the tests, I know you’ll do just great, so please believe me!"

"Okay, okay. It’ll be a good weekend for us."

"Lizzie? Hey, how was it?" Susie walked in, smiling at me.

"It was amazing. The girls are just great, and so eager to learn! I think I’ve never had to answer this many questions!" I closed my notebook.

"Yeah, it’s not every day they can learn from a Formula 1 Grand Prix winner, you know?"

"We should change that. We should get the teams more involved. Maybe some Q&A’s with some of the drivers…" I suggested, checking the time.

"Sounds like a good idea, we should definitely think about it, but for now, go." she chuckled and I looked at her "You checked your watch at least 5 times in the last 2 minutes… the race is about to start… go…"

"Thanks Susie!" I got up, packing my bag and sprinting towards the Ferrari garage.

"There you are! I thought you wouldn’t come!" Andrea said and I tried to catch my breath "He’s a little nervous, you know…"

"Why?" I looked around, searching for Charles.

"He said after Friday wasn’t the best and he only got P2… you know him…"

"Yeah…" I sighed, spotting Charles in the corner, reading in his notebook, as if he could feel my eyes on him he looked up, an anxious smile on his lips.

"Hey you…" he whispered as soon as I was close enough for him to pull me into a hug.

"Hey yourself… what’s going on. Why so anxious?" I rubbed his back, feeling his muscles relax under my touch.

"I don’t know. Friday didn’t start out the way we wanted to, yesterday wasn’t much better, I only had one good lap… Max is in front and the RedBull is a rocket ship again…"

"Yeah and the Ferrari isn’t too bad either… come on! You can do this!" I kissed his cheek "And if you win, there’s a special prize waiting for you in the hotel…"

"Oh yeah? But what if I don’t win?" he looked at me and I winked.

"Then there’s a consolation prize waiting for you…"

"Damn, so either way I’m a winner at the end of the night?" he chuckled "Thanks… for cheering me up."

"That’s my job as WAG, no? Although… what am I now? I’m not yet a wife, but also no girlfriend anymore? They need to change the abbreviation! It’s WAFAG from now on… justice for all the fiancées out there!"

He pulled me in, pressing his lips onto mine and I melted into him.

"Just another reason why I love you so much…" Charles whispered against my lips and I looked at him confused "You always know how to cheer me up…"

"I’ve learned from the best." I replied, ruffling his hair a little "And now go. You have a race to win."

"I’ll try my best." one last kiss and he was gone, off to win the race in the last corner, overtaking Max in a breathtaking move.

I cheered for him from underneath the podium, Andrea next to me.

"Whatever you said to him, it worked, maybe you’re his lucky charm this season? You should stay close…" he laughed and I smiled.

"Maybe I should… or at least try to…"

"Charlie!" Liam jumped up from the sofa, Arlo on his heels, both running towards him. His face lit up immediately and I paused the movie, watching how he engulfed first Liam and then Arlo in a big hug.

"Are you watching Ice Age with us?" Liam asked and Charles smiled, ruffling his hair.

"Let me take a quick shower and then I'll join, okay?"

"Okay." Liam trotted back to the sofa, Arlo following him, and both made themselves comfortable.

"I'll make some fresh popcorn, okay?" I got up and walked downstairs "I don't get a hug?" I hugged Charles from behind, as he stood at the kitchen island, drinking a glass of water.

"I'm sorry, cara mia..." he sighed and turned around pulling me close "Hi, pretty girl." he kissed the side of my head and I melted into his touch.

"How are you?" I played with his hair at the nape of his neck, and felt him tense up a little.

"I threw away such a good weekend." he mumbled, his warm breath tickling my shoulder "I wanted to extend the lead to Max...

"You weren't the only one with track limits, come on! Almost everyone got them... even Max."

"Yeah, but I screwed up in the last lap! I would've won if I just took that last corner dif-... no, you know what? It's like that. I can't change it now..." Charles pulled away and cupped my cheeks "I'm home now, and I want to enjoy my time here..."

"Are you sure? You know you can vent if you need to?" I looked at him and he nodded.

"I'm sure. It was my own fault, I'll have to do better in Miami.

For now, I can't change it. But I have one week now to enjoy with you, our family and also see what you've planned already..." he kissed my forehead and I smiled at him.

"Alright, I'm making popcorn, you'll take a shower and later on we're having pizza, how does that sound?"

"Like music to my ears..." he chuckled, but then pulled me back by my wrist "Wait... are you okay? You said you didn't feel that good for a couple of days?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. It was just a little cold with a stomach bug. Nothing too bad. Also nothing a good soup and some hot tea didn't cure..." I replied and he nodded.

"Hmm... I'm sorry that I wasn't here..."

"Okay, stop now. You have a job and I can take care of myself." I looked at him pointedly.

"You're good now?" he asked and I smiled, nodding.

"Just a tiny bit tired and exhausted, nothing bad at all..." I reassured him "Now go take that shower, I make some snacks."

I prepared the popcorn, cut some fruits and vegetables and walked back upstairs where Charles already sat on the sofa, Liam and Arlo next to him. All 3 watching the screen with big eyes.

"Hey! Did you continue without me?" I pouted and Liam giggled.

"It was Charlie... he saw the dinosaur and wanted to watch!" he said, and Charles looked at him.

"Did you just rat me out?" he began tickling him, Arlo jumping happily between them "No! Help me Arlo! Not him!" I laughed and put down the trey with our snacks, sitting down next to Charles.

"Sorry, cara mia... but dinosaurs!" he said, and I kissed his cheek.

"It's okay, I didn't expect anything else from my 3 little boys."

"Hey!" Charles and Liam said and looked at me.

"Who are you calling little?"

"Who are you calling a boy?"

I chuckled and leaned back, snuggling into Charles continuing to watch the movie. When the credits rolled, he looked at me, an adorably confused look on his face.

"What?" I asked and he scratched his chin, looking at me.

"What was the whole peaches thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"When the girl mammoth was having the baby, or rather felt like she's going to have the baby, she said peaches. And then Manny knew that she was having the baby? Like... how? Is that a code for having a baby?" he tilted his head, and I threw my head back laughing "Stop laughing at me!" he pinched my side and I had to wipe away some tears.

"You think peaches is a code for when women are pregnant?"

"I don't know? Could be?"

"No, Charles, they talked about a codeword for Ellie, the girl mammoth, that when she feels that the baby is coming, she just would have to say peaches and then Manny would know in an instant what's happening." I explained.

"Ahhh yeah, okay, makes sense." Charles laughed "But it would be kinda cute, you know?... when someone is pregnant, and they would just say peaches, and everyone would know in an instant what's going on."

"That would be cute indeed." I agreed "Now I really want to have some peaches..." I laughed, grabbing some slices from the plate " ... all that talking about peaches!"

"All the peaches in the world for my pretty girl." Charles kissed me and Arlo jumped at him, pushing him away from me "Hey! Not this again, that's my fiancée! I was here first."

"Doesn't look like he cares about that." I shrugged my shoulders and Liam laughed.

"Go Arlo!" he cheered and helped him, tickling Charles.

"I surrender! You won!" he pressed out, breathing ragged and after another 30 seconds of torture Arlo and Liam stopped, letting him breathe.

"You deserve some treats, come on!" Liam got up and Arlo followed him downstairs, leaving a heavy breathing Charles and me behind.

"That was harder than the race..." he heaved, and I laughed "I swear!"

"Okay, big boy, if you say so..." I rolled my eyes and he laughed, before he pulled me into his lap "What are you doing?"

"As long as I have you all to myself..." he whispered, sealing our lips shut.

"Charles... they could come back any moment..." I breathed out, when his hand slipped under my shirt, goosebumps erupting all over my skin.

"I know..." he said, and I groaned.

"Then stop it!"

"You really want me too?"

But before I could reply we heard Liam and Arlo coming back up the stairs and Charles pushed me off of him, sighing.

"When are we having pizza?" Liam asked, oblivious to what he almost walked into.

"Yeah, cara mia, when are we having pizza?" Charles wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'm good with my peaches." I quipped and they both started to protest "Just kidding... come on boys, let’s make some pizza."

I packed my bag, watching Charles happily talking away with some of the girls, sharing his own experiences of the upcoming track.

"I spun out twice in 2023, and last year... well, lets say, I saw a lot of the 'you can't park there mate' memes with my car in the middle of the track." he chuckled, but I saw a muscle tick on his jaw, knowing that last years free practice was still a litle sore spot.

"But you still managed a podium." Maya Weug, one of the girls from the FDA, said and he nodded.

"Yeah, but it was a tough race, the track didn't really suit our car last season." he replied.

"And this year? Do you think it's better?" Bianca Bustamante from the McLaren drivers academy asked.

"I'd say we'll see tomorrow." Charles smiled at me when I looked up "Ready?"

"Yup. See you tomorrow girls." I waved at the group of drivers who stayed behind and they smiled, waving back.

"Bye Lizzie."

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

Charles took my hand in his, pulling me to his side.

"You’re amazing." he said and I turned my head a little.

"What do you mean?"

"The way the girls look up to you? How you encourage them? Give them advices? You’re doing an amazing job…"

I smiled, hiding my face in his shoulder and he chuckled.

"You were also great… they girls really enjoyed talking to you, I mean obviously. A Formula 1 world champion giving them some advice? Telling them about his insecurities about the upcoming track? They loved you." I said and he opened the car door for me "Thanks for coming today, really. It meant a lot for me… but also the girls."

"You know I would do everything for you!" he smiled and pecked my lips before I got inside.

"Yeah? Well… can we stop at a Chipotle’s then?" I put on my sweetest smile and he laughed.

"Chipotle’s? Really?"

"Yeah I want a burrito and a quesadilla… oh and some taco’s! Chips and dips! Gosh I’m starving? I could eat their whole menu to be honest…" I said when my stomach began to grumble a little.

"A burrito, a quesadilla some tacos and chips and dips? Someone’s hungry…" he searched for the nearest Chipotle’s and I blushed a little.

"I don’t know… in the last weeks my stomach was going crazy. I was hungry at times and could eat so much the one minute just to feel almost nauseous the next, probably because I ate too much before but yeah… maybe all of that is too much…"

"Let’s order it all and we’ll share it?" Charles suggested and I nodded, looking outside "Hey? Lizzie? What’s going on?" he squeezed my thigh and I sighed.

"It’s ridiculous, really." I mumbled but he grabbed my hand gently, pulling me a little closer.

"I’m sure it’s not… just tell me, please…" he said quietly, his thumb tracing soft circles on the back of my hand.

"The last weeks... I didn't really take care of what I ate. Like I just ate whatever I wanted to eat, or sometimes just snacked away... and- I gained some weight, and my mind was like it doesn't matter, I don't have to fit into a car anymore, I can eat what I want... but I always felt so bad because I'm kinda used to follow a strict diet? And it's somehow still ingrained in my head... I even cried because I felt like I gained too much weight?" I rambled and Charles sighed, parking the car at the side of the road, turning to look at me, cupping my cheeks.

"I want you to listen to me, okay? You eat what you want to eat. End of the story. I know you, you don't eat unhealthy stuff all the time, I mean, I've seen you eat and honestly, wouldn't you have said something, I wouldn't even notice that you're eating more? And Whatever weight you've gained? It's not visible in the slightest. You're still as beautiful and sexy and hot and stunning and gorgeous and amazing as ever. Just that there is a new glimmer in your eyes, but that's making you even more beautiful. So, you and I, we're going now to Chipotle's. We'll get you a burrito, a quesadilla, some tacos and chips and dips. And if that means that you gain a little something? So be it. Who gives a shit, because certainly I don't. I'd rather see you eat and be happy then... we know what an unhealthy relationship you once had with your body and food... so no, we don't go back there." he was so sincere that I felt myself tear up, looking down.

"And now I'm crying because of food! Again! God these last few weeks were really taken their toll on me. Between planning our wedding, the F1 Academy, trying to support you, helping Sissy getting their new appartement ready before the baby comes... my head's a mess..." I hickuped and Charles kissed the tip of my nose.

"I'm sorry for not helping you enough with the wedding... I promise after this weekend, as soon as we're at home I'm all yours. Let's make all the final decisions we've been postponing for weeks now. Let's finalise it all. I'll get the boys together and we're going to the tailor, so suits, done. I'll help Daniel assemble all the stuff for the little one, done. It'll be fine, okay?" he whispered, and his smile made warmth spread through my body, leaving a tingly feeling in its wake.

"Can't it be June already?" | sighed and he chuckled.

"I feel you... god I can't wait to see you walk down the aisle... I just know that you’ll be the most beautiful bride ever…"

"You’ll love the dress… Monique is a genius." I leaned back in the seat and Charles checked the mirror, steering the car back on the road."

"You could wear a paper bag and would look gorgeous." he chuckled and I rolled my eyes "But I know that whatever you’ve chosen, it’ll be perfect."

"It is, you’ll see…" I looked out the window, spotting our destination, a happy smile on my lips.

"And now let’s get some Chipotle for my pretty and hungry girl…"

I watched Abby lifting her trophy into the sky, clapping for her when Susie joined me.

"She's amazing. Last season she already was one of the best, but this season? She improves from race to race..." I said, turning a little, to see Abby taking a winner selfie with the little crowd behind her.

"That's because of you... you help these girls a lot and that so many people are here right now, celebrating them? That's also because of you. You're doing an amazing job, Lizzie, you can be proud of yourself... I am. Really. As someone who watched your career from the early days in karting... and before you say now something... save it." she chuckled.

"I didn't even want to say something!" I held up my hands.

"Yeah, yeah, sure..."

"Susie, Lizzie!" we turned around, and the Sky UK crew waved at us "Can we have a few minutes?" Natalie Pinkham smiled.

"Sure!" Susie looked at me and I nodded.

"Fantastic. F1 Academy, round 3 of 10. With Charles visiting the girls on Thursday we have the current world champion showing his support, the crowds that are cheering for the girls are getting bigger and bigger, what do you think is making the F1 Academy so appealing at the moment?" Natalie asked.

"Not what, but who. Since Lizzie joined us actively the interest in the F1 Academy grew immensely, everyone wants to know what a young, brilliant and talented driver, who was forced to retire unfortunately way too early, is up to. She generated a whole new following for the Academy, she's always there for the girls, they can ask her anything they want, they benefit so much from Lizzie's experience... and she brings the big names to the girls." Susie's excitement was contagious.

"I think we can all agree that we were really saddened by your unfortunate retirement. But as it seems, you've found just the right spot where you fit right in?"

"Retiring wasn't easy, and I was scared what I would do without racing, but working alongside Susie, being up close to her, see her work her magic, make the F1 Academy such a successful racing series, giving these girls an opportunity, one shey all deserve... i makes it easier to be at the track.."

"What's to come for the F1 Academy? What do you two power ladies have planned?"

"A lot... a whole lot." Susie winked and I laughed.

"There's so much more to come." I added.

"Well, we all can't wait for it. One last thing, Lizzie, how's the wedding planning going? We heard from Charles that you're the mastermind behind it?" Natalie smiled and I chuckled.

"Me? No, Celiné, our wedding planner, she's the real mastermind. I'm just trying to help her... she's doing an amazing job and the planning is going on very well. Some final details and it's done, and honestly? You have no idea how happy I am about it. A lot going on at the moment..."

"We hope for some pictures of the big day. Thanks Lizzie, Susie."

"What a day." I chuckled and we walked back towards the hospitalities, when a door to our left opened and a tangy smell filled my nostrils. I stopped dead in my tracks, supressing a gag "Oh god what are they cooking in there...

"What do you mean? Smells not too bad?" Susie laughed and I shook my head, making her stop "Are you okay?" she looked at me worriedly "You're really pale... you didn't look too peachy the whole weekend, to be honest..."

"Nice way to say that I look bad.." I chuckled but stopped immediately, feeling the bile rise in my throat.

"I'm serious. I thought it's maybe the jetlag, you told me you didn't sleep too well since we're here..." she looked around and then walked away for a moment, returning with a bottle of water "Here, drink a little..."

"Thanks." I mustered a smile and took a few sips.

"Let's get you back to Charles, in the hospitality it's cool and you can rest a little." she led me towards the Ferrari hospitality, where Charles sat outside with Lewis and Silvia, a camera team filming them.

"Must be weird seeing him in red?" I nodded towards Susie, and she smiled, a little sadness in her eyes.

"After everything Lewis has done for Mercedes, I think it was only fair for him to let him go, so that his one last big dream can come true, drive for Ferrari." she replied.

"That's true."

"But yeah, it is a little weird seeing him in red."

"I bet." I chuckled and walked up the two stairs "Thanks for dropping me off."

"You're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, it's just a little... I don't know, my stomach is a little in shambles since I had that dodgy looking egg roll from that one food truck. Since then, I felt a little nauseous..." I said, hoping Susie would believe me.

"Okay... well, you have now a couple of weeks' time to rest a little, take care of your wedding, sleep..." she smiled and hugged me "And stay away from dodgy looking egg rolls!"

"Dodgy looking egg rolls?" Charles hugged me from behind when Susie walked off, saying hi to Lewis "When did you have a dodgy looking egg roll?"

"Yesterday, I was hungry and had the last egg rolls from the food truck in the paddock…" I lied and Charles raised his eyebrow.

"And you feel unwell since then?"

"No, my stomach is a little in shambles. That's it. I'm fine. I just need to drink some water, rest a little and all is good..." I reassured him and he studied my face "Really. Don't worry, okay? You should prepare, you have a race to win!"

"Hmm we'll see about that..." he mumbled, still looking sceptical at me.

"Stop looking at me like that. I'm fine!" I kissed his cheek and walked inside and after a moment he followed me "So, how confident are you in winning today?"

"We have good chances. It's all down to a good start." he sat down next to me, and I nodded.

"I'm sure you manage to stay ahead." I stroked his arm, trying my best to look calm, while my mind was occupied with piercing together the puzzle pieces.

The nauseousness every now and then, insomnia, being overly emotional, the weight gain, cravings for food like I never had before, feeling tired and exhausted, my brain that just won't work properly anymore.

"Lizzie?" Charles gently squeezed my thigh and I looked at him "Are you sure you're okay? You zoned out a little..."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. I was just- I was just thinking about something for the wedding..." I lied and he smiled.

"Okay, I have to go now, see you later." he got up and kissed me, then walked outside to get ready for the race and I leaned back in my seat, taking a deep breath.

With shaky hands I took out my phone, opening the app that would be the answer. 3 missed cycles. I scrambled up, grabbing my bag and left the hospitality. I needed a test. And I needed one now. Two Uber rides and a from paranoia plagued trip to a pharmacy later, I sat on the closed lid of the toilet watching the last second of the timer ticking away, 3 tests on the sink. 3... 2... 1... one last deep breath and I got up, looking at the tests.

"Oh my god."

He won. Imola. Home race of Ferrari. The race he wanted to win so badly after Monaco and Monza. He did it. I was so proud, absently stroking my stomach. The moment we came back to Monaco I made an appointment at my doctor’s office, who just confirmed what I already knew since Miami. I was pregnant. And according to the doctor already in the 17th week. 4 months of carrying a little bean with me without knowing it. The baby was healthy, although I was concerned by the lack of a baby bump. I thought for days about how I wanted to tell Charles, but I didn’t came up with a good idea. Not until I saw the kid of one of Charles’ mechanics in the back of the garage with a Sid from Ice Age plushie. It was cheesy. And for a moment I thought about how it might take away from his moment. But then I remembered how much he wanted this, how excited he got whenever we talked about it and knew it was the right moment. I walked over to the engineered and tapped on Bryan’s shoulder.

"Bryan?" I said quietly and he turned around, smiling "Can you say something to Charles for me?"

"Umm- okay?" he looked at me a little confused and I chuckled.

"Just say peaches. That’s enough." I said and he nodded, even more confused.

"Charles? I have a message from Lizzie." he said and I put back on my headphones, walking over to the nearest screen.

"Okay?" Charles radioed back and I was excited for his reaction.

"Peaches." Bryan said and was met with silence. The only sound to be heard was the crowd, chanting at Charles going a little too wide.

"Peaches." his voice was thick with emotions and a lot of heads were turning my way.

I laughed, took the headphones off and walked outside, waiting at the side of the fence. Charles parked his car and climbed out, taking his helmet and balaclava off, throwing it at Andrea who barely caught it. He searched the crowd for me and the moment his eyes landed on me he ran, picked me up and spun us around.

"Peaches?" he asked and I nodded.

"Peaches!" I repeated and I saw the tears in his eyes, the happiness. His gorgeous dimples showing.

But the next second his eyes widened and he sat me down, cupping my cheeks, searching my face for any discomfort.

"Fuck! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done that!" he whispered kissing my forehead and I laughed "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am! I’m pregnant, not sick! Well not right now at least!" I chuckled and he looked at me for one moment before he kissed me, the crowd erupting around us pulled us back into reality, reminded us that we weren’t alone.

"You made me the happiest man alive, cara mia." he whispered against my lips and I smiled.

"And you made it so much harder for me to fit into my wedding dress in a month." I sighed a little and he laughed.

"I told you already, you could wear a paper bag and you would still look gorgeous. You’ll be the most beautiful girl. Just like always." he kissed my cheek as I blushed "My pretty girl. And my pretty baby." he carefully stroked the side of my almost invisible bump "Are we keeping it to ourselves? Or do you want to tell the world? Or just our family and friends?"

"If they didn’t get it after today? Let’s see how long we can keep it our cute little secret?" I said quietly and he nodded, kissing me again.

"Whatever you say… sweet mama." he winked at me and I laughed.

"Oh god no!" I pushed him away and he laughed "Go now! Celebrate with your team! I’m waiting right here for you!"

He walked towards his team but stopped abruptly and turned around, walking back and kissing me.

"Forgot something… I love you." he smiled and squeezed my waist, before he stormed over to his team, celebrating his win.

I stood at the door, looking down at the aisle that I would walk down in less than 24 hours. Although the lawn was mostly empty for now, thanks to Celiné I had a vision of how it would look on Saturday and I felt the tears gather in my eyes.

"I hate these stupid hormones." I whispered and Charles chuckled, walking up the 3 steps.

"I know…" he grabbed me by the waist, gently squeezing my sides pulling me in "But it’s also kinda cute… and the way you’re pouting is even more cute…" he kissed said pout and I had to smile.

"Lizzie?" Celiné cleared her throat and I pulled away "Umm there’s a little problem we need to deal with…"

"How bad is it?" I asked and she bit her lower lip "That bad? Okay…"

"Do you need me as well?" Charles looked at her and she shook her head "Well, I guess I leave you to it then." he kissed my cheek and walked inside.

"Okay." I followed Celiné inside to the bridal suite and she nodded to the chair "Oh it’s that bad? I need to sit down? Okay…"

"Well… it’s… umm- okay I just say it, they delivered the wrong bridesmaid dress-…"

"What? WHAT?" I got up and she held up her hands "They delivered the wrong dresses? How’s that even possible?"

"Dress. Singular. Only one dress is the wrong size. It’s the same model, but the wrong size…" Celiné said and I sat back down.

"Whose dress?"

"Mine." Sissy said, waddling inside "And- please don’t hate me, I’m not even mad about it? I don’t think that I could stand that long, this boy is on his way out and I swear it feels like he’s gonna plop out any moment." she sat down, gently stroking over her very prominent baby bump "I’m so sorry, I should’ve said something earlier, but I thought I could make it, I wanted to but this kid is part Aussie and I can feel it."

"It’s okay, really. I mean, I understand…" better than she knew "So… any ideas what to do now? Charles has 3 groomsman, I had 3 bridesmaids… now I have two and a teeny tiny dress…"

"I was thinking about Andrea and Julia, but the dress is too small, I already checked in with them."

I only listened halfheartedly to Celiné, looking outside the window where Carla got out of a car, looking around.

"I’ll be right back." I got up and walked outside, Celiné and Sissy looking confused.

Carla walked towards the guest house, where our guests would stay over the weekend and I sped up a little.

"Carla!" I called after her and she turned around, a big smile spread across her face.

"Lizzie, hi!" she hugged me and I smiled "I’m so excited to be here! Thanks again for inviting me!"

"Of course! I told you, you’re still a part of the family!" I said and she nodded slightly.

"I guess I see you then tonight? Are you really sure it’s alright for me to come? It’s only your mum’s and siblings and best friends and-…"

"And you’re like my little sister, so yes, it’s more than okay! Actually… I need you to do me a favour…"

"Sure! Anything! What’s wrong?" she said and I grabbed her hand.

"You need to come with me for a moment."

"Okay, sure, but my bags…" she began and I waved one of the staff members over.

"Hi, could you please be so kind and bring Miss Brocker’s baggage to her room? I need her." I smiled at him and he nodded.

"Of course Miss Doetterer." he took the suitcase and dress bag from Carla and left.

"Alright." I pulled her with me, inside the main house, to the bride suite where Sissy and Celiné looked at me.

"Hi Sissy." Carla smiled and leaned down, hugging her "How are you? The baby?"

"Well… it’s okay… he’s a little wilder than Liam was, but soon it’s over."

"He’s probably really excited to be a big brother soon?"

"Oh yeah, he can’t stop talking about it. Don’t worry, he'll tell you all about it himself."

"I can’t wait." Carla smiled and I opened up the dress bag.

"That’s going to fit." I said and all 3 looked at me "Yeah. Problem solved. Carla, you’re going to be the third and missing bridesmaid, it’s even out then again."

"What?" all 3 said at the same time and Carla stepped towards me.

"You can’t be serious? You- me? But… Shima with Joris, Charlotte with Lorenzo, Sissy with Arthur…" she said and I nodded "That’s not a good idea. Lizzie, just think about it?"

"Okay listen, you would’ve been a bridesmaid if this tool of a boy didn’t pull that shit! And I need a third bridesmaid. And-… Carla please save my wedding. Charles would be heartbroken if Arthur wouldn’t stand with him at the altar… and it would look so unaesthetic with only two bridesmaids and three groomsman." I pleaded, tears stinging my eyes.

"I-I don’t know… we don’t even know if the dress fits? And I don’t know if my shoes match!" Carla replied and I sighed.

"Please try it on, if it fits and it’s just some small changes that Shima could do tonight, would you do it? Please? If you really don’t want to because-… no, you’re right." I shook my head "It wasn’t fair to ask that of you. I’m sorry." I sat down, leaning back in the armchair "Maybe the photographer could use some different ankles to make it work?"

Carla looked at the dress and then at me.

"If it fits or the changes are minimal, I’ll do it. But only if it’s really okay with you. And I- Arthur’s new girlfriend is here… he should be asked as well if he’s okay." she said and so jumped up, hugging her.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" I kissed her cheek and she chuckled "I go to Charles and explain the situation to him, then he can talk to Arthur. Shima will be here any minute and-…"

"And what am I doing?" she sad walking inside and we quickly explained to her what happened "Okay, put the dress on and we’ll see."

"You think you can do it? Get it ready in time?" Celiné asked and she laughed.

"Carla has the perfect body, don’t worry, that will be easy."

"See? No problem. 3 bridesmaids. 3 groomsmen. Or rather, 2 bridesmaids, 2 groomsmen, one maid of honour and one best man." I smiled.

"Looks like the problem is solved then?"

"Problem is solved. Wedding saved." I texted Charles and smiled to myself.

It would be fine. All would be fine.

Charles POV:

Lizzie paced nervously back and forth, the stress and exhaustion of the last weeks clearly visible in her face.

"Cara mia? Hey! It’s going to be okay, alright?" I tried to calm her down but she shook her head.

"Are you sure?" she stopped, looking at me "I’m serious? Do you really think it will be okay?" she sounded desperate "One bridesmaid down and the substitute is your brothers ex… I love Carla, I really do, and inviting her was the right thing to do and I wanted her to attend, but what was I thinking? Asking her to fill in for Sissy? And she said herself she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea and my stupid brain was persistent and said no, please, it’s fine?" her breathing became ragged.

"Cara mia, look at me. Calm down, okay? It all going to be okay, but you need to calm down… deep breath in… and out… in… and out… keep breathing… sit down, I’ll get you some water." I gently pushed her down on the bench "Deep breath in… and out… in and out… you’re doing amazing… I’ll be right back…" I walked inside, grabbed a bottle of water, one of the snack packs Celiné prepared, and walked outside, finding an empty bench "Cara mia?" I walked around the corner, Lizzie standing at the banister, looking over the lake. I put down the water and snack pack and stepped behind her, hugging her from behind.

"Can you believe it? Tomorrow at this time… I’ll have your name…" Lizzie whispered, resting her head against my shoulder.

"Lizzie Doetterer-Leclerc, my wife…" I kissed the side of her head "…mother of our gorgeous little one…" I gently cradled her tiny baby bump, well concealed by her clothes over the past weeks "I’m so excited for tomorrow… the day I’ve been waiting for for my entire life…"

"Husband and wife…" Lizzie tilted her head up, looking at me.

"Wife and husband." I leaned down, sealing our lips shut with a kiss, when the loud banging at the door made us flinch.

"I guess that’s your entourage… ready to whisk you away… or rather steal you away…" she whispered against my lips.

"Stupid traditions…" I sighed, ignoring the commotion in front of our suite "You sure you’ll be fine tonight? I can stay? We don’t have to do this…"

"I’ll survive. And I won’t be alone. The girls are coming over as you know, our mums…" she chuckled and I kissed her cheek, before kneeling down in front of her.

"Just a few more weeks and everyone will know about you, little one." I pushed Lizzie’s shirt up and kissed her belly "I can’t wait for everyone to find out about you, peaches."

"Peaches…" Lizzie whispered, gently carding through my hair when the banging on the door got louder again "As much as I want you to stay, pretty boy, go. Please. Before they knock down the door…"

"Yeah…" I got up and pulled her into me, stealing one last kiss "Good night, soon to be wife…"

"Good night, soon to be husband." she breathed out against my lips and with one last little peck I pulled away, leaving the suite, stepping right into the bunch of my groomsmen, all waiting eagerly for me.

"Ready?" Enzo asked and I took a deep breath, nodding.

"Go get him boys!" someone shouted and the world turned dark "Let the night begin…"

I stood in front of the mirror. Looking at myself. The dress, the hair, the make-up. It was all perfect. One look up and down and I turned around, looking at Sophie, the hair and make-up artist.

"Ready for the veil?" she smiled and I nodded "Alright…" she carefully put my veil on and I watched her in the mirror "You will think I say that to all my brides, but Lizzie, you are really one of the most beautiful brides I ever worked with…"

"Oh stop, you say that to all your brides…" I laughed and she gently squeezed my arm.

"Very funny. I’m serious. You have this natural glow radiating from you… truly stunning."

"Thank you, really…"

"You wanna step out and show your bridesmaids and the mums?"

"Give me a second…" I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

My heart was racing. I was a little afraid of this moment. What if they didn’t like the dress, all the changes we had done to conceal my tiny baby bump. I loved the new design, that it was more flowy, more comfortable. What if they liked the original design, the one before I found out I was pregnant. I gave Sophie the thumbs up and she opened the door, stepping out in front of me.

"Ladies, here’s your bride…" she said and I stepped outside.

Silence. Big eyes. Confused faces. But it was Mum who stepped up to me, tears in her eyes, a big smile on her lips.

"Oh Lizzie, my beautiful girl. Look at you…" she said, taking my hands in hers "You look… I don’t have words…"

"Magnifique! Beautiful! Stunning!" Pascale said, standing next to Mum "Charles is the luckiest man who ever lived!"

"You are beautiful." Sissy smiled, looking at me from her seat.

The compliments wouldn’t stop and I smiled, holding up my hands.

"Okay guys you have to stop or I’m crying. And I don’t want to cry. So please enough for now!" I sniffled a little and Carla handed me a tissue box.

"But-… can I ask what happened to the original design?" Pascale asked and the rest nodded.

"I loved it. I really did. But I thought it was a little too… too tight? Around my stomach and waist area? You know I thought about what amazing food we’ll have? And this one is more flowy, I talked with Monique and told her that I want the dress to have a little more room for food, to be a little more comfortable. And that’s what she came up with… now I can actually enjoy the food at my own wedding, not feeling bloated because I ate too much!" I lied and I saw the way Mum and Pascale looked at each other.

"Okay, makes sense. I mean, it’s still the same dress no? Just a little more… flowy…" Mum said after a moment and I nodded.

"Ready for your big day?" Charlotte asked and I shook my head.

"I’m nervous and scared and gosh I hope I don’t forget my vows or trip and fall on my way down the aisle!" I rambled and Mum gently cupped my cheek.

"Hey! It’s going to be just fine. It’s Charles who is waiting for you. If you forget your vow just look at him and tell him how much and why you love him, that’s fine. And if you trip, do you really think your dad would let you fall? It’s all going to be just fine, okay?" she reassured me and I took a deep breath.

"Okay. I’m fine. I’m ready. Let’s go. Let’s get married. Let Dad get me down the aisle…" I smiled right as a knock on the door made us all look up.

"That was my sign to come in, right?" Das walked inside but stopped dead in his tracks, looking me up and down, while Mum, Pascale, Sissy, Shima, Charlotte and Carla left. "My little owl… you are… you are gorgeous." his voice wavered a little and he closed the distance between us "Look at you… you are so beautiful."

"Oh Dad stop." I said, fighting the tears "Stop making me cry."

"I’m sorry, but look at you!" he replied and I smiled a little "You look so beautiful…"

I took a deep breath and tried my best to not cry but couldn’t stop one tear from escaping.

"Don’t worry, we’ll make a little touch up as soon as we’re downstairs and before the doors are opening." Sophie said, and followed the mums and bridesmaids.

"May I?" Dad offered me his arm and we walked down "The last steps with my little girl… "

"Oh come on, dad!"

"It’s true. You’ve grown into an amazing young woman. Achieved so much already. I’m proud of you. You and Charles. I always knew, as long as it’s Charles I’m handing you off too, I’m fine with it." he chuckled a little.

"Yeah. It was always him right?" I whispered and he nodded.

"Always, little one. And now…" he stopped and Sophie did a last touch-up of my hair and make-up, nodding to Shima, who waited at the side with the other bridesmaids.

"Alright, where are the groomsmen?" she looked to the side where Lorenzo, Arthur and Joris walked out.

"We’re here." Enzo smiled and then stopped, looking at me "Lizzie, you look beautiful."

"Wow…" Arthur whispered, wiping his face instantly.

"Charles is the luckiest guy on this planet!" Joris said, a big smile on his face.

"We need to get going. I can’t cry before I even made it down the aisle, okay?" I laughed "Did you manage to sneak in my surprise for Charles?" I then whispered to Joris and he nodded "Did he see it already?"

"No, not yet…" he smiled and then followed Arthur and Lorenzo, standing next to their designated bridesmaids.

Joris whispered something into Shima’s ear, making her blush. Lorenzo kissed Charlotte, telling her how beautiful she looked. I watched Arthur, taking a deep breath and holding out his arm for Carla, she smiled nervously, but when Arthur smiled as well, it seemed like both would be fine and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in.

"Everyone ready?" Celiné opened the door, looking inside and Shima nodded "Our bride is ready too?"

"Yeah…" my voice thin and I cleared my throat "I’m ready. Let’s get married."

Charles POV:

The door opened and I watched Joris and Shima, Lorenzo and Charlotte and lastly Arthur and Carla walk down the aisle. All with the biggest smile on their faces. I was nervous, but the good kind of nervous. Excited. I couldn’t wait for Lizzie walking down the aisle. Joris, Lorenzo and Arthur stood next to, smiling and I watched how the girls took in their positions.

"Did you see her?" I whispered to Joris and he nodded.

"You hit the jackpot…" he replied and I smiled.

The music began to play and I closed my eyes, taking one last deep breath, as all the guests arose for the arrival of the bride. My bride. My Lizzie. When I opened my eyes I teared up immediately, watching Lizzie next to Juergen. She was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. She looked ethereal. Like a goddess. Her dress and veil shining bright in the warm light of the sun. But nothing could compare to the smile on her face. She was glowing. Her eyes shining. But even now I could sense her nervousness and I had to smile. Father and daughter stopped in front of me and Juergen, turned a little kissing Lizzie’s cheek, whispering something, before he turned to me, pulling me into a bear hug.

"I know there’s no better man out there for my little girl. I know you will take good care of her." he whispered and I nodded.

"I’ll protect her with my life."

"I know you will. I love you, son."

I took a deep breath, feeling even more tears gathering in my eyes when I pulled away, smiling at him.

"Love you too, Pops."

He winked at me and then gently took Lizzie’s hand, placing it in mine, then making his way to our mothers, sitting in between them.

"Hi…" Lizzie whispered and I felt the nervousness radiating off of her.

"You are so beautiful…" I kissed the back of her hand and she blushed "My beautiful goddess."

"You look gorgeous…" she smiled and I chuckled.

We both turned towards the wedding officiant who smiled at us, then opened up his book and began.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, with fond hearts and joyous spirits, let us join together to commemorate the remarkable union of Lizzie and Charles as they begin this incredible journey of matrimony today here before us… Marriage is a sacred bond of deep commitment and faith. It can be an amazing journey shared between two individuals devoted to each other, loving and supporting one another through the highs and lows that come with life's adventures. With patience and trust in your partner, marriage will provide strong foundations for all those special moments ahead."

My face almost began to hurt from smiling, and by the look on Lizzie’s face she felt the same.

"Our bride and groom have now prepared their own vows that they would like to share now with us… Lizzie."

She smiled nervously, turned towards me and I took her other hand into mine, squeezing them gently.

"Okay… I can do this…" she whispered to herself and I smiled. She took one last deep breath and closed her eyes and when she opened them again they were so full of love, if almost made my heart burst "Charles, our story began on a karting track 19 years ago and since then there was not a single day where I haven't thought of you at least once. We've been through good times, bad times, even the worst of times, but with you by my side, even the worst of times were bearable. Today I stand before you, ready to start the biggest adventure of our lives. I know it will be hard sometimes, some days will take a lot of work. But I also know that there will be days filled with love, laughter, and pure bliss. I can't imagine sharing this adventure with anyone else but you. You're my best friend, the love of my life, and my soulmate. Today I promise to stand by your side and to love you always. And when one day death do us part, | promise you, l'll find you in every other lifetime. I once called you a magnetic force and today, I take you, this magnetic force of a man, to be my husband."

I had to fight the tears, and Lizzie gently wiped away the one that had escaped, smiling at me.

"Charles…" the officiant said and I nodded.

"Lizzie, from the moment I met you, I knew you belong with me and that the girl in my story, was and will always be you. You’re my past, my present and my future. You make saying goodbye the worst, but saying hello the best. Saying I love you forevermore will never be long enough. You turn every place you’re at into my favourite place to be. You are the light in my darkest nights, that always guides me home to my safe haven, you. You have the purest and kindest soul, the biggest heart and the sharpest mind. You’re also the most beautiful, breathtaking, stunning girl I’ve ever seen, that’s a big bonus too." everyone laughed a little, and Lizzie shook her head, an amused smile on her lips "You’re always by my side, through all my struggles and endeavours, my highest highs, my lowest lows. In every situation, you always bring me comfort, bring me peace. Waking up next to you is my biggest inspiration and motivation to be the best version of me, but I know that even on the days where I won’t succeed, you will love me no matter what. They say the secret to a perfect life together is to find someone to grow old with, but I think the secret is to find someone to stay young with and in you, I found that someone, Lizzie, because all’s well that ends well to end up with you."

Lizzie looked at me, tears streaming down her face, and I cupped her cheeks, wiping her tears away just the way she did with mine.

"Who has the rings?" the officiant asked and Joris and Shima stepped forwards, handing him the rings. He smiled at Lizzie, handing her my ring.

"Lizzie, do you take Charles to be your husband, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him and to cherish him. Through sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." her hands shaky as she slipped the ring on my finger.

"Charles…" the officiant handed Lizzie‘s ring over and I smiled at her "…do you take Lizzie to be your wife, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her and to cherish her. Through sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." my hand was never this steady when I slipper her ring onto her finger, where her engagement ring was glistening in the sun.

"It is my great honour and privilege to pronounce you husband and wife. Charles, you may kiss the bri-…"

I didn’t let him finish, pulling Lizzie close and sealing our lips shut with an all consuming kiss. Our guests all began to cheer and clap, but I only had eyes for Lizzie, the glimmer in her eyes, the soft tinge of pink adorning her cheeks, the smile on her lips when I pulled away gently.

"I love you…" we both said in unison and I pecked her lips again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, for the first time ever, Mr and Mrs. Leclerc."

"Doetterer-Leclerc…" I whispered and she giggled slightly.

"I love the sound of that…"

"Me too, my beautiful wife, me too…"

The day was perfect. I had no other words for it. Lizzie and Celiné did an incredible job and I watched how all the most important people in our life celebrated us. Our love. When it was time for the food I had to chuckle, watching Lizzie practically beaming at the pasta and pizza bar, smiling from ear to ear when she saw how the guests loved the food, all indulging in the delicious treats.

"Happy?" I whispered, when she closed her eyes, enjoying some cheesy pasta.

"Oh yeah. Choosing a pasta and pizza buffet was the best idea! And our little one approves." she giggled, gently stroking her perfectly hissed bump.

"You want something more? Pizza? Salad? Pasta?"

"Yes. Yes and yes." she munched on her last piece of pizza and I laughed, kissing her cheek.

"I’ll be right back." I walked to the buffet, when Seb patted my arm and I smiled at him.

"Charles. Hey." he hugged me "Congrats, kiddo. What a wonderful day, thanks for having us."

"Thanks for coming! Really. It means a lot to us."

"How’s the bride?" he asked filing a plate with pizza slices.

"Hungry. Happy. On cloud nine?" I laughed, filling Lizzie’s plate with everything she wanted.

"That’s good to hear, now go, feed your wife. It’s going to be a long day!" he chuckled and I nodded.

"I see you later…" I waved him off, returning to our table where Lizzie smiled at me and made grabby hands for her plate "Here you go, my beautiful wife."

"Thank you very much, my dashing husband." she chuckled and I laughed. I looked around, everyone was happy, talking away, laughing. It was indeed the perfect day and I leaned back enjoying every moment to the fullest, when it was time for some speeches. I made it through them without shedding a single tear, fighting for my life, but when Juergen stepped up to the mic, I took a deep breath, squeezing Lizzie’s hand, who lost the the battle with the tears 3 speeches ago.

"You okay?" I whispered and she nodded, sniffling.

"Yeah. You? You need a tissue?"

"I’m fine. Thanks." I said, preparing for the worst.

"Lizzie, Charles. I’ll keep this short, we already heard enough speeches and I know these young folks want to dance and party… Lizzie, to me, you’ll always be my little girl, my little owl, no matter how old you are. And I always knew the day you would marry wouldn’t be easy for me… or at least I thought so for the first 8 years of your life. But the moment Charles walked into our life’s, I knew it wouldn’t be too hard. I knew that with Charles by your side, nothing will happen to you. You’ll be safe. Protected. Happy. I knew that Charles would do everything to make you the happiest girl on this planet, that he would fight for your dreams, make sure that you achieve everything you ever wanted. I knew that the day Charles would replace me wouldn’t be a sad day for me, because I’ve never seen someone loving another person as much as Charles loves you. Charles, I know you now for 19 years and I love you like my own and god how I wished your old man could be here with us tonight. Seeing the man you’ve become. He would be so proud of you, because I sure know that I am. But not just him. Also Jules. Know that these two, although not here with us tonight, are somewhere together, celebrating the love and bond you two share. So, ladies and gentlemen, let’s raise our glasses for our bride and groom. To Lizzie and Charles!" Juergen raised his glass and I took a deep breath, feeling tears streaming down my face.

"You need a tissue?" Lizzie repeated but I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded, taking the tissue she handed me with a shaky hand "Wait…" she smiled, gently wiping away my tears.

I mustered a smile and kissed her cheek, before I got up, taking another deep breath, looking for Juergen. When I spotted him he smiled at me and in an instant I pulled him into a tight embrace, trying to put into words what I felt, but I failed.

"It’s okay. I got you." he whispered and I just nodded, pulling him closer "They are always with you, remember that."

"Thank you…" my voice hoarse and shaky "For everything…"

"Go now, there’s a little surprise waiting for you…" he gently pulled away and I nodded, wiping my eyes.

I walked over to Lizzie, our mothers, hugging her.

"Hi pretty girl." I whispered, hugging her from behind, smiling at our mothers, not patting my arm, walking away "Sorry for storming away…"

"Are you okay?" she turned her head a little, looking at me, her eyes glassy.

"Yeah… he just… everything he said… it was-…" I rambled and she turned around.

"Pops was right, you know? They are always with you… even today…"

"I know, it’s just… I would’ve loved to have them here you know? Like really… I know it’s not possible… but yeah…" I sighed and she smiled.

"They are here, in a different way, but they are here…" she opened the buttons of my jacket, pulling the left side away from my body, looking at the lining on the inside and I followed her look, tearing up immediately. Carefully embroidered into the fabric were papa and Jules, smiling at me.

"How-… when-…" I was at a loss of words, blinking the tears away "Lizzie…"

"The tailor made two jackets, Joris swapped them out right before you put it on…" she whispered "I knew you wanted to have them with you… so-…"

I pressed my lips onto hers, pulling her close.

"You-… I love you, cara mia… so much… thank you. For this- today… our little one… thank you…" I kissed her again, when the lights got dark around us, the only light now coming from the string lights over the dance floor.

"Lizzie, Charles. It’s time for your first dance as husband and wife…" Joris said and I carefully wiped the tears from

Lizzie’s face, for what felt like the hundredth time today, right as she was doing the same on my face.

I took her hand in mine and led her to the dance floor, everyone smiling and cheering for us. Lizzie looked nervous, and I felt the same, but I also knew that with her by my side, it would be just fine. We stopped in the middle of the dance floor and I smiled at her, cupping her cheek and pulling her close, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Ready?" I whispered and she nodded.

"Yeah…"

She placed her hand on my shoulder, while I placed mine on her back, pulling her even closer, holding her other hand. We looked at each other, when on the right side a white piano appeared out of the dark, Arthur sitting on the bench, smiling at us. Then he started to play Lover and Lizzie’s eyes widened as we did the first steps.

"That’s…"

"Our song… I asked Arthur to learn it…"

"Charles… that’s-… thank you." she smiled and I kissed her cheek.

"I had to plan at least one thing alone for tonight, after you made this day as special as it is…"

She hid her face in the crook of my neck and I leaned my cheek against her head.

"I love you, my husband…" she whispered after a while and I smiled, kissing the side of her head.

"I love you too, my beautiful wife…"

The next weeks went by in a blur and it felt like I was floating on cloud 9. Montreal, Spielberg and Spa were wins number 5, 6 and 7. Lizzie was the happiest with how the F1 Academy was gaining more and more the interest of the media, more drivers joining her for workshops and our little one finally deciding to show up, making her huff in annoyance whenever she put something on, that did nothing to conceal her now growing belly.

"I think it’s time that we tell our family and friends the good news… I can’t hide it for much longer, it’s summer, I can’t run around wearing your hoodies all the time, we were lucky that it was cold and rainy the last weeks wherever we were racing!"

"Alright, then let’s tell everyone?" I said and she nodded "I mean, now that little Noah is born, we definitely can tell our family and friends?"

"Okay, let’s do this." she grabbed her phone and handed it to me, peeling my hoodie off of her belly "Take a picture and let’s send it to everyone."

"What? You’re joking, right?" I looked at her and she titled her head a little.

"Why?" she scrunched her nose.

"Lizzie! We’re not just sending a picture of your belly and that’s it!"

"Why not?"

"You’re really serious?"

"I mean, I wouldn’t just send a picture of my belly and that’s it. I would write a little something, but honestly? I don’t want to make a party or whatever. I’m just so happy that the wedding is over, I don’t need another party that I have to organise…" she leaned back and I thought about it for a second.

"Okay, we’re taking a selfie… with your belly…" I said and she smiled, I held the phone in one hand, pointing at Lizzie’s belly with the other, making a funny face taking some pictures before we looked at them.

Lizzie smiled at me on every picture, and when we picked our favourite one she thought for a moment, before she typed away, showing me the text and I laughed.

"We’re going to need a bigger car, bye bye two-seater."

I woke up from a faint rummaging somewhere in the penthouse, immediately feeling for Lizzie next to me, just to find her bed empty and cold. I was awake in an instant and sat up, switching the nightstand lamp on. 2:34am. One look to the foot of the bed and I knew that Lizzie was okay, Arlo was with her. I stretched and got up, following the rustling sound, hearing Lizzie mumbling in the soon to be nursery.

"I thought that I ordered it? Maybe they didn’t deliver it? Do we even need one? Of course we need one… silly me." she huffed and Arlo tilted his head when he saw me walking in, barking quietly "Shhh! Arlo! Don’t wake up Charlie!"

"Too late." I whispered and Lizzie flinched, turning around, her cheeks red, swollen belly on full display between us "What are you doing?" I asked, gently caressing our little one, feeling a kick immediately.

"She’s keeping me awake! She’s just like her dad!" Lizzie mumbled and I looked at her face, the glow of her skin, shiny eyes, soft hair.

"She?" I cocked an eyebrow and she nodded "Cara mia, we said we don’t want to know the gender for now… did you cheat?"

"No! But I just… I have this feeling, you know? I can’t explain…" she whispered and glanced down at her growing bump "She’s in there…"

"How do you know?"

"I just told you! I have a feeling!" she hit my shoulder and in the next moment she kissed my cheek "I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that… I’m just… it’s- just…"

"Hormones? They make you emotional? Little cra-… irrational?" I said gently, wiping a tear from cheek.

"I’m carrying a baby inside of me! I think I have the right to be a little bit irrational!" another wave of her cute wrath.

"I’m sorry, pretty girl… you are right!" I smiled, cradling Lizzie’s bump gently with one hand, her cheek with the other "But can my two favourite people in the world come back to bed now? I miss you…"

"Yeah… I was just looking for this baby monitor thing? I thought I ordered it? But maybe I didn’t? It’s not here… but I was so sure? God my brain is mush… I- I don’t even know what day today is." she mumbled, a fresh wave of tears gathering in her eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey, cara mia. It’s okay! You hear me? We figure it out in the morning. But for now, let’s go back to bed." I gently guided her to our bedroom and helped her get comfortable.

"I hate being like this…" Lizzie whispered and I looked at her.

"What do you mean?"

"I’m so emotional all the damn time! One moment I’m complete mush and want to cry, the next I want to kill someone! And my brain is not braining anymore… and I don’t even want to start with how I look!"

"You look beautiful, what are you even talking about?" I cupped her cheek but she huffed.

"How is it possible that in the span of 8 weeks my belly tripled in size! I’m huge! 8 weeks ago I was wearing my wedding dress… and now?" she pouted "Not even your biggest clothes will fit me in no time anymore…"

"First of all, you haven’t tripled in size. Don’t be ridiculous! Second of all, you’re now in the sixth month. It’s normal that your belly grows now a little more each day! The doctor already said that it might happen from one week to another that our little one decides to show up fully! And there it is…"

"But- but I… I don’t even know what I wanted to say…" she sighed and I chuckled.

"What about we’re going to bed now? Tomorrow we’re leaving for our family vacation, just some quiet days with our family. Doing nothing but relaxing. Leave the room the way it is, and as soon as we’re back from our vacation, I’ll make sure to check that we have everything for our little one. And I make sure that the nursery is ready as well… how does that sound?"

"Okay…" she puffed out, walking towards the door "But I’m hungry…"

"What do you want, pretty girl?" I asked and she thought for a moment, although I knew already what she wanted "Grapes, berries, some cheese and crackers?"

"Ouhhh yes! That sounds good…" she smiled and I kissed her cheek.

"You go and het comfy in the bed and I’ll bring you your midnight snack."

"Thank you." she whispered, smiling adorably.

"Everything for my beautiful wife and our little one…"

"Where’s Lizzie?" I asked our mothers, when I got out of the pool, looking for her.

"She went inside, she said it’s a little too hot and she’s also hungry… but not hungry hungry, more in the mood for a snack hungry…" Marina said and I chuckled.

"Okay…" I grabbed a towel, drying myself up, walking inside the house, where Lizzie was sitting on the sofa, eating ice cream, the bowl propped up on her belly. I took my phone out and captured the moment when she scrunched her nose, huffing.

"What is it, pretty girl?" I asked and stopped in front of her "What do my two favourite girls in the world need?"

"Oh? So now it’s a girl?" she tilted her head adorably "When I said she’s a girl, that I can feel it, you called me crazy…"

"I did not call you crazy!" I held my hands up and she sighed, rolling her eyes, before she scooted to the edge of the sofa, pushing herself up "Hey, what do you need? I can get it for you…"

"I can walk into the kitchen by myself, thank you…" she mumbled and waddled away, it was truly endearing.

"I know that you can, but I could also just do it for you…" I followed her as she rummaged through the cupboards "What do you need?"

"This ice cream sucks…" she groaned, voice muffled as she looked into another cupboard.

"Ouch-… okay…"

"No! Not sucks like it doesn’t taste good! More like… I want the saltiness from the caramel one, but still the peanut ice cream and no caramel? Maybe a little chocolate? I don’t know…" she mumbled, letting an errant of different snacks and toppings falling down on the kitchen island.

"And what are you doing now?" I watched her scoop up some ice cream, sprinkling it with chocolate chips and some sea salt flakes.

"Now I’m mixing my own ice cream…" she shoved the spoonful in her mouth, giving it a go "No. That’s not it…"

"So this is your newest craving then? Ice cream with weird toppings?" I asked carefully, hoping secretly that the nights full of fruit platters and cheese boards in our bed might come to an end.

"For now…" she mumbled, trying her next creation "Ewww no. Bad idea. Bad, bad, bad idea. Whoever said pickles go along with everything… no. Just no."

I stayed quiet and watched Lizzie trying all different variations of toppings out, right when I thought she wouldn’t find the perfect combination today, a moan emanated from her throat and she closed her eyes.

"I guess whatever that combination was, it’s the winner?" I chuckled as she let out another moan "Okay stop… our parents are somewhere out there…"

"Charles, I’m pregnant, I think they know that we have sex…" she rolled her eyes and I shook my head, hugging her from behind.

"But that’s the thing, cara mia…" I whispered in her ear, watching goosebumps spread over her body, her breathing hitched "We’re not having sex… you’re just eating ice cream, sounding like that? I feel like I have to outperform myself tonight to make you sound like that…" she began to tremble and I cradled her swollen belly.

"Charles…" she breathed out.

"Yeah?" I kissed her cheek.

"I think I just invented a new flavour for Lec…" she replied and I dropped my head on her shoulder, laughing "You should give it a try, it’s delicious."

"Sure… why not…" I chuckled, opening my mouth for the spoon Lizzie fed me. And to my surprise she was right "What’s that?"

"It’s your peanut ice cream, with crushed salt pretzels and a little bit of crumbled brownies. Salty, sweet, nutty. It has it all." she ate another spoon full "Mhhh so good." she moaned again and I shook my head.

"Now you’re just doing it to tease me…"

"Maybe… maybe not…"

I stroked her belly, leaning down and kissing the side of it.

"Your mama is mean to me… I can’t wait for you to come out and help me against her!" I whispered and Lizzie laughed.

"You think, after I carried her for 9 months, she’ll pick your side?"

"Of course. I talked to her about it. Every night when I was with you, I talked to her, had my own personal little chat time with our beautiful little one… I’m confident she’ll protect her dad from her vicious mama…"

"Vicious?" she shrieked and I laughed, cupping her cheeks.

"Vicious, beautiful, perfect baby mama…" I kissed her and I felt the smile on her lips "My gorgeous wife…"

Chapter 50 - Ladies and Gentlemen, you are cordially invited to celebrate the marriage of Lizzie and Charles ♥️👰‍♀️🤵‍♂️ 2 more chapters to go…

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @janeh22 @shimmermotorsport @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09 @fangirlforever2000

All the images I’m using are from Google, Pinterest and Instagram (or self made).

[jgthirlwell]

11.09.24 Catherine Christer Hennix (1948-2023) memorial at Performance Space, NYC. For this memorial program, members of Hennix’s ensemble—Ellen Arkbro, Amir ElSaffar, Mattias Hållsten, Marcus Pal and Amedeo Maria Schwaller — presented Kamigaku in her absence, following the sonic ideals and performance practices that she specified - musicians should be allowed unrestricted space and time for them to be able to play (only) when they feel inspired and (only) for as long as they feel inspired.

Catherine Christer Hennix was a Swedish musician, poet, philosopher, mathematician and visual artist. As a musician, she worked with figures such as Pandit Pran Nath, La Monte Young, and Henry Flynt.

[destinationsorrows]

Masterlist+Request info+About me

Masterlist;

I don't have anything written just yet

Request Information;

When requesting, request a scenario or something of the sort. I am severely uncreative (lie)

No NSFW: 🌑

NSFW allowed: 🌕

Same Gender only: 🌈

Platonic Only: 🫧

Fandoms/Characters I write for,

Omori:

Omori, 🫧

Sunny, 🌑

Aubrey, 🌑

Kel, 🌑

Hero, 🌑

Mari, 🌑

Sweetheart, 🌕

Space boyfriend, 🌕

Omoriboy, 🌕

Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun:

Amane Yugi/Hanako, 🌑

Tsukasa Yugi, 🌑

Nene Yashiro, 🌑

Kou Minamoto, 🌑

Teru Minamoto, 🌕

Aoi Akane, 🌑

Akane Aoi, 🌑

Sakura Nanamine, 🌕

Natsuhiko Hyūga, 🌑

Mitsuba Sousuke, 🌑

Tsuchigomori, 🌕

Sally Face:

Sal Fisher, (🌕 Aged up only)

Ashley Campbell, (🌕 Aged up only)

Larry Johnson, (🌕 Aged up only)

Todd Morrison, 🌈(🌕 Aged up only)

Travis Phelps, 🌈 (🌕 Aged up only)

Ghost Eyes (Webtoon):

Tobias Schneien, 🌑

Mattias Schneien, 🌑

Rudolph Richardson, 🌑

Emilio Murkmere, 🌑

Carmelo DeMonte, 🌑🌈

Will write any other characters if requested, I love you Ghost Eyes fandom

Creepypasta/Marble hornets/Other:

Ben Drowned, 🌑🫧

Jeff the killer, 🌑

Jane the killer, 🌕

Ticci Toby, 🌕 (Hes 19)

Tim Wright/Masky, 🌕

Brian Thomas/Hoodie, 🌕

Eyeless Jack, 🌕

Slenderman, 🌕

Nina the Killer, 🌑

Bloody Painter, 🌕

And tons more, too many to put down just request and I'll write it

Bungo Stray Dogs:

Osamu Dazai, 🌕

Chūya Nakahara, 🌕

Atsushi Nakajima, 🌕

Akiko Yosano, 🌕

Doppo Kunikida, 🌕

Jun'ichirō Tanazaki, 🌕

Kenji Miyazawa, 🌑

Kyōka Izumi, 🌑

Ranpo Edogawa,🌕

Naomi Tanazaki,🌑

Ryūnosuke Akutagawa,🌑

Ichyō Higuchi, 🌕

Gin Akutagawa, 🌑

Kyūsaku Yumeno, 🌑🫧

Motojirō Kajii, 🌕

Sakunosuke Oda, 🌕

Ango Sakaguchi, 🌕

Edgar Allan Poe, 🌕

Lucy Montgomery, 🌕

Fyodor Dostoevsky, 🌕

Bram Stoker, 🌕

Nikolai Gogol, 🌕

Sigma, 🌕?

Saigiku Jūno, 🌕

Tetchō Suehiro, 🌕

Scott Pilgrim (Movie, Comics, and Show):

Wallace Wells, 🌕🌈

Scott Pilgrim, 🌕

Ramona Flowers,🌕

Knives Chau,🌑

Envy Adams,🌕

Kim Pines,🌕

Matthew Patel,🌕

Gideon Graves,🌕

Young Neil!!,🌕

Stephan Stills,🌕

Soul Eater:

Black☆Star, 🌑

Maka Albarn,🌑

Franken Stein ,🌕

Death The Kid,🌑

Crona Gorgon,🌑

Soul Eater Evans,🌑

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa,🌑

What I will write,

Angst, Fluff, NSFW (Includes Gøre), Yandere, Comfort, AUs, anything that isnt in Wont Write.

What I won't write,

Inc3st, p3døphilia, basically anything weird and gross, anything sexual for characters under 18 (If i have to age them up then dont request it unless its Sfw)

About Me!!

Hi my name is Mercy! My birthday is April 1st and I'm currently 15 years old.

I enjoy alot of different fandoms and I really love art and music. If you want to be friends just ask, dms are open to anyone and everyone!!! And don't be shy to request anything, i don't bite! :3

Art Instagram is Mewre44, if you want me to draw anything just dm it's free since my art kinda sucks currently.

Thats it!! Feel free to dm or request!!!! Bye!

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

PART 14 IS THE PLAN FAIL?

Y/N’s footsteps clicked against the polished marble floor of the long corridor, the sound bouncing dramatically off the high ceilings. Her beige jacquemus dress hugged her frame, perfectly. The subtle glint of her face caught the light as she strode forward, her face a mix of determination and worry.

“Matheo Sainz!” she called out, her soft voice echoing with authority.

Within seconds, two identical doors creaked open, and from each emerged a boy with the same dark, mischievous eyes and identical smirks. Y/N halted mid-step, her jaw tightening as a wave of disbelief swept over her. She pressed her fingers to her temples, as though willing the scene in front of her to make sense.

“No, no, don’t do this to me,” Y/N muttered, her tone a mix of exasperation and confusion. “I’m already seeing double, and I’ve only had one vodka today.”

The boys stifled their giggles, their shoulders shaking in unison as they exchanged a quick, knowing glance. Finally, one of them stepped forward, smoothing down the collar of his shirt with dramatic flair.

“Mom, it’s me, Mattia. The real Mattia,” he declared with a confident grin, pointing to himself for emphasis.

Y/N’s sharp eyes narrowed, seeing her son—or rather, both sons—with a mixture of suspicion and affection. Then, slowly, her expression softened, and her face lit up as though the pieces of a long-unsolved puzzle had finally clicked into place. Without hesitation, she pulled the boy into a firm, affectionate hug, her other arm extending to draw in the second boy—Matheo—who hesitated for only a moment before melting into the embrace.

“My two babies,” Y/N said, her voice thick with emotion. “I finally have you together.” She stepped back slightly, her piercing eyes now clouded with reproach as she scanned their identical faces. “How dare you do this to me?!”

Mattia and Matheo shot each other a quick look, their guilt barely masked by the corners of their lips threatening to curl into laughter. Before either of them could stammer out an excuse, a third figure appeared from the hotel room.

Chessy.

"Umm, if it's not too much trouble... How about you continue your conversation inside the room?" she suggested, gesturing toward the doorway. Without waiting for their response, she herded them into the adjacent space with an air of weary authority.

"Maybe you don’t remember me..." Chessy began, her tone carrying a playful hint of challenge.

"Chessy!" The greeting came from Y/N, her voice suddenly warm and bright as she pulled Chessy into an enthusiastic hug.

Chessy’s lips twitched into a smile at the gesture, said, "I know it, I always like you from the first met."

****

 “One of you... I’m not sure which one, but one of you told me your father would be expecting us.” Y/N’s tone was laced with disbelief as she addressed the two boys standing sheepishly in front of her. “But I inform you that the man I saw in the elevator didn’t seem like he even knew I existed. Or that we were on the same planet, much less in the same hotel.” Her sharp gaze flickered between the twins, expectant.

Mattia and Matheo exchanged uneasy looks, silently communicating their mutual regret for this unfolding disaster. Y/N raised eyebrows told them she was waiting for an explanation, but none came.

“Have you found him yet?” Matheo asked cautiously, his voice betraying his apprehension.

Y/N sighed heavily, collapsing onto the couch in dramatic defeat. “Yes. And when I saw him, he turned as pale as if he’d seen a ghost. A damn ghost.” She raised a finger at them, her expression stern. “Don’t do that again.” With an exhausted wave of her hand.

The sound of a whistle broke through the tension, and everyone turned as Martin strolled in, casually clad in Beach shorts, towel slung over his shoulder, and looking utterly unfazed by the chaos in the room.

Y/N patience visibly frayed at the edges. “Martin. Sweet Martin. May I respectfully ask… what the hell are you doing?”

Martin blinked, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing in the room. “I was thinking about going to the pool,” he replied nonchalantly, as if this was a perfectly reasonable response.

Matheo and Mattia barely managed to stifle their laughter, their mother’s exasperation only adding to their amusement.

Y/N groaned, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, go have fun while I die here.”

As Martin turned to leave, Chessy entered the room, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to Y/N’s frazzled energy. “Would you like a glass of water?” she asked, her voice soothingly matter-of-fact.

Martin’s gaze caught on the brunette, her casual attitude faltering as he stared. Chessy, ever perceptive, noticed the attention and raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“H-hello,” Martin stammered, his usual confidence replaced by an almost endearing nervousness.

“Chessy, this is Martin” Y/N introduced dismissively, already distracted by her inner turmoil. “My butler.”

Chessy’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she extended a hand toward Martin. “Hey, nice to meet you. I’m that little ruffian’s babysitter,” she said, nodding toward Matheo.

Y/N’s exasperation reached its peak as she rose from the couch. “Twins, can you tell me why you brought me here without telling your father?”

Chessy and Martin exchanged glances, both visibly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading. “Um, I think I’m going to pool now,” Martin mumbled, inching toward the door.

“Yes, you’re right,” Chessy quickly agreed. “I’ll go with you. I’ll get something to drink.” The two of them were almost out of the room when Y/N’s voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Wait.” She fixed them with a piercing look. “Do any of you know something I don’t?”

The question hung in the air, silencing everyone. Martin and Chessy froze, while Matheo and Mattia glanced at each other uneasily.

Finally, Matheo broke the silence. “Mom,” he began, his voice small and hesitant. Y/N turned to look at him, her expression expectant. “Dad’s getting married.”

Y/N slumped back on the couch, her mind racing as she stared blankly at the ceiling. The room felt heavy with tension, yet Mattia was undeterred. He leaned forward, his small frame brimming with conviction. "And with the devil? She’s horrible!"

Matheo chimed in, his voice steady but insistent. "That young woman is no good for Dad. The only way they won’t get married is..." He paused, glancing at Mattia as if passing the baton. "You tell him. You know him better."

Mattia didn’t hesitate. He shifted closer to Y/N, his tone dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "He won’t get married if he sees you..."

The words hung in the air, leaving Y/N wide-eyed and frozen. Her gaze darted between the two boys, trying to decipher their intentions. "Wait... you don’t want to involve me, do you?" Her alarm was evident, her voice edged with disbelief.

Meanwhile, Martin and Chessy, who had been quietly spectating, began inching toward the door. Their subtle retreat was an obvious attempt to avoid getting dragged into the unfolding drama.

Matheo, however, pressed on. "You were born to be each other’s mom," he declared with all the dramatic flair of a child convinced of his own brilliance.

Mattia nodded vigorously. "Exactly! His love goes beyond all things!"

Martin and Chessy exchanged a look, their escape plans now feeling more urgent. They crept another step toward freedom, but Y/N’s sharp tone stopped them cold. "Wait a second, you two..."

Both froze, their guilty expressions a dead giveaway. Slowly, they turned back to face her, fumbling over their words. "It’s not like that," Martin stammered. Chessy, desperate to back him up, blurted, "We just thought it was a great idea!"

Matheo and Mattia cringed, realizing their plan was unraveling faster than they’d anticipated. Y/N, however, had reached her limit. She shot up from the couch, her sudden movement startling everyone in the room.

"Alright! That’s enough!" Her voice carried the kind of authority that made even Martin and Chessy flinch. The room fell silent as she continued, "I’ll say this once and only once. Carlos and I? We have nothing in common. Nothing. And no one is going to convince me otherwise. Besides, he seems perfectly content with that short-haired young woman he’s always with."

Her tone softened just slightly, but the determination in her eyes didn’t waver. "What was going to be done will be done. We’re switching the kids back, and that’s it. Am I clear?"

Matheo and Mattia exchanged nervous glances. Their plan had crumbled, but a spark of mischief still lingered in their eyes. Clearly, they weren’t done scheming—not yet. But for now, they stayed silent, retreating to the safety of their thoughts as Y/N’s words settled over them like a final verdict.

prev chap

[ofvolatile]

  //   (  bill  skarsgård  .  cis man  .  he / him  )  .    ⸻  elias  sundström  ,  a  thirty  year  old  ,  has  survived  another  day  in  red  creek  where  they  have  lived  for  all  their  life  .  the  serial romeo  is  known  for  being emphatic and  stubborn  and  is  often  associated  with  headphones drowning out the echoes of small-town gossip ; lost in the bottom of a whiskey bottle , there's more out there , you know that ; your guitar sings in the smoky haze of the bar , every chord a raw apology , every strum a promise you can't keep . the town remains your anchor , this corner of the world is the only home you'll ever need  .  in  a  small  town  where  they  work  as  rhythm  guitarist & backup vocalist at  redstone  bar  + bartender at lakeside grill word  travels  fast  .  it’s  hard  to  keep  a  secret  ,  and  it  looks  like  the  boogeyman  knows  that   ████   .

STATISTICS .

full name : elias micah sundström . nickname : els . age : thirty , may 25 1994 . horoscope : gemini sun , scorpio moon , and taurus rising . pronouns : cis male , he / him . orientation : biromantic , bisexual . place of birth : red creek , michigan . occupation : bartender at lakeside grill + rhythm guitarist & backup vocalist for redstone's house band : 4am verdict . siblings : mattias “ matts ” sundström , and two half-siblings around his age , wanted connection tba . moral alignment : neutral good with heavy chaotic good tendencies . hair color : brown , but he dyed it blond ( see gifs above , but who knows if i stick with that - i haven't looked at his gifs yet ) . eye color : green . height : six foot four . tattoos : on the side of his torso , running diagonally from just under his ribs toward his hip , there are dark , swirling ocean waves , intertwined through the waves are fragmented chains , some links broken and other still holding strong . on the inside of his right bicep , there's a stylized guitar , with the strings blending into lines of music sheets . on his neck , just below his ear , a small sparrow in flight . piercings : both ears are pierced , often adorned with simple silver hoops / small studs . relationships with npcs : daniela estrada was a regular at redstone bar , and the two of them hit it off and became close friends . after the last set of the night , when the bar was quieter , the energy of the night would turn to something softer and more personal once the crowd thinned . the bar's after hours became their shared space of comfort .

BACKGROUND . trigger warnings for infidelity , parental abandonment , alcoholism & drowning .

— tw infidelity & parental abandonment elias' father a once-devoted fisherman , abandoned the family when elias was just five years old , at the height of murders and disappearances that haunted red creek twenty-five years ago . the departure was abrupt , and devastating , leaving his mother to shoulder the burden of providing for their family while grappling with whispers of his father's new mistress . resilient and determined , she kept them afloat , but it was mattias , elias' elder brother and fifteen years his senior , who stepped into the role of surrogate father . desperate to bridge the their age gap and emulate him , elias threw himself into music when mats saved up enough money to sign him up for lessons . but when his brother left town to tour with salvation row , elias quit those classes , not wanting to waste the money that could be better spent elsewhere . the decision felt like a way to ease the strain on his mother's shoulder , but it also left elias grasping for a connection to his brother . instead , he picked up his brother's old guitar - a beat-up acoustic left behind in the rush of leaving for the road . elias taught himself to play , treating the instrument as a lifeline to mats . it became a ritual , a way to keep his brother close , even when the distance between them felt impossible to close .

— mattias' shadow followed him everywhere, a constant presence in the small town where everyone seemed to have a story about his older brother . teacher who had taught both of them couldn't help but draw comparisons , their words tinged with nostalgia and expectations . “ you’ve got mats’s talent , but where’s his focus ? ” it was a weight elias carried silently , the unspoken pressure to live up to the legacy mats left behind . — his serial romeo tendencies took root in high school with relationships that flared and fizzled just as quickly . unconsciously , he was mirroring the pattern his father left behind - unable to maintain stable relationships . around school he was a familiar face to everyone , but never truly tied to anyone . elias defied the mold of traditional cliques . he wasn't the kind of guy who needed a group to define him ; he floated between them . more often than not , he would be found in the music room , or perched alone on the bleachers with a cigarette in his hand , watching the world go by . despite this , he had a quiet knack for standing up for the underdog .

— after high school he drifted into a nearby public college , more out of obligation than ambition . it seemed like the thing to do - the expected next step . he toyed with different fields , switching major s more than once , but nothing seemed to stick . music was his first love , but pursuing it academically felt too rigid , far removed from the raw , unpolished joy he found in playing . he returned home before finishing his degree in communications .

— tw parental abandonment . the return of their father to red creek , hit like a storm no one saw coming . after years of silence , he showed up with a new family in tow - his wife and two children , close in age to elias . it stirred a maelstrom of emotions . watching his father play the devoted dad , was like seeing a ghost , only this time , the ghost is alive and thriving .

— tw alcohol abuse . now , elias still at redstone bar , a place tied to mattias' early career , but unlike his brother he doesn't take the main spotlight . the days the band doesn't practice or perform , elias pours his energy into supporting his mother by working as a bartender at lakeside grill , a role that sharpens the edge of his inner conflict - standing amidst temptation while grappling with his own reliance on alcohol . matthias' return to red creek is bittersweet , while elias is glad to have his brother back , he resents the constant pressure to leave the band behind and make something “ bigger ” of himself , but every nudge to leave , has elias only dig his heels in further . he insists on staying because of his mom , but the truth is that he feels bound to red creek because of  ██████ . his ties run deeper than anyone knows . it's not just the loyalty to his family or the weight of memories that keep him here - it's something else , things he can't explain , ties he can't cut , and reasons that keep him rooted exactly where he is .

HEADCANONS .

1 . ) elias keeps a box of “ treasures ” under his bed : with guitar picks from matthias' old gigs , a picture of his family ( one from when his father was still around ) , a candid snapshot of daniela , a ███ hidden deep inside the box to keep the  ████ off his mind , postcards that he's gotten from mats while he was on tour , a broken wristwatch that belonged to his father , and an old flight ticket that he bought months ago and never used . 2 . ) tw drowning . despite growing up with a fisherman father , elias harbors a deep fear of water , and that's why he avoids deer lake . its a trauma that stems from a drowning accident he had when he was a child . 3 . ) he has a playlist titled “ better days ” that he only listens to when he's feeling lost . it's a mix of his father's favorite songs , mats' old band tracks , and a few classics he loves . 4 . ) his mother believes in small-town superstitions , like hanging charms by the door to ward off evil . elias pretends to dismiss them , but keep a charm in his guitar case “ just in case . ”

okay that's it ... i didn't go much into his personality because that's something i wanna explore once i started plotting & writing , but between taylan and thierry he's definitely my easiest muse to get along with .

[puck-luck]

9 of clubs with titty plssss also congrats love!!!!

-mattias anon

mattias anon u will always be famous

warnings: humiliation, exhibitionism, sub!m, oral fem!receiving, m!masturbation

wc: 899

You didn’t even make it to the car this time. Hell, you barely made it down the hall and around the corner before Mattias found an unlocked closet in the tunnels and dragged you inside, plunging you into the darkness.

“Can’t wait,” Mattias mumbles, a rushed baritone duet of syllables. “Please, baby, need it now.”

He’s crowding your space, not waiting for you to say yes or no before he starts kissing over your neck and running his hands all over your body. He lifts you into his arms and pushes your back against the wall of the closet, knocking something over in the process but resolutely ignoring the clatter. 

“Did you lock the door behind us?” You ask. 

Mattias nods against your skin, pushing his hands under your sweater and feeling over the back of your bra.

“Can you be quiet?” You bring your fingernails gently down the back of Mattias’ neck.

At the scratch of your nails, he’s smothering a whimper. The answer is no, he’s never really been one to be quiet, but he’s going to try his hardest. If it means that you leave this closet with ten times more hickeys than you came with, then that’s the way things are. You can live with it. Even though he’s anything but silent, you’ll still give him what he needs.

“Okay, honey,” you coo. “Let me give you what you need.”

Mattias sags in relief, already making his way down your body and using the muscles in his arms to keep you in place. It’s a process, but he manages to remove your jeans without letting your feet touch the ground. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and kisses over your cunt before shifting your panties to the side and diving in.

You’ve always been the one who is better at controlling herself, so your jaw drops and head rolls back without a sound.

Mattias laps at your folds with his clumsy tongue, more focused on covering his tastebuds in your slick than he is on your pleasure– for now.

You let a few minutes pass before you stiffen under Mattias, tugging his hair until he looks up at you. You hold a finger to your lips, unsure if he can see you or not, but you pray that he can because you’d hate to be found out by the people who are walking past the closet. Their footfalls started faint and have been growing closer and soon they’ll be right outside the door.

Mattias halts his movements at first, obeying you and ceasing his slurping and licking. It’s then that the footsteps seem to be crossing towards the closet and his eyes grow wide. They’re as big as saucers and Mattias takes a chance– because he can’t help himself. When your cunt is right there, right on his tongue, he has to get his fill. His lips close around your clit and his tongue toys with the nerve.

You have to press your lips together hard to keep any noise from escaping you. Mattias knows that your clit is your weakest point. He usually takes much longer before he tries to pull an orgasm from you like this.

Thankfully, the footsteps recede. 

“What are you doing?” You hiss.

Mattias shrugs. He continues sucking, closing his eyes and leaning into the way you grip his hair. His right shoulder moves again, jostling you, and you hear him unzip his pants. With another movement, you assume he’s stuck his hand in his pants to get some relief against his cock.

“Did you like that?” You ask. You’re sure your tone is full of judgment, but it’s only because you can’t believe it. Mattias has never told you anything of the sort. “That we almost got caught by someone?”

Mattias hums, a terrible response to the question but one that feels so good against your pussy.

“You did,” you say, and Mattias hums again to confirm. You’ll explore this later with him, the puzzle pieces clicking into place– maybe this is why Mattias is always so handsy after a game. You thought it was something to do with rewarding him for performing so well or consoling him after a loss. Maybe the reason you usually only make it as far as the car is because Mattias craves the rush of almost getting caught. 

You squint at him in the dark and lean into it, testing the waters.

“What would they think, baby, if they could see you now?” You ask.

Mattias’ eyes fly open and he stares, shocked, at you through his eyelashes. His tongue flexes, recoiling only slightly before he doubles down and sucks at your bud like a straw with something caught in the middle. So he does like that.

“What if that was Ras, Ti? What would he think if he opened this door and saw you on your knees for me?”

Mattias whimpers, grabbing your skin almost painfully with the hand that isn’t stroking himself– which gives you an idea.

“And if you’d already come? What would he think if he saw the wet spot on your shorts and found out how easy you are?”

Another set of footsteps start to sound, distantly echoing through the hallway.

You continue. “What do you think, baby? Should I be quiet? Or do you want me to let your teammate hear how good you can be?”

[pochiperpe90]

[Eng] Luca Marinelli: a great lesson in humility

Luca Marinelli is one of the most famous Italian actors. Famous for iconic roles such as Mattia in "La solitudine dei numeri primi", the Zingaro in "Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot" and Pietro in the award-winning "Le otto montagne" from the novel by Paolo Cognetti, he arrived in Spoleto to present his directorial debut. Indeed, Luca Marinelli directed Fabian Jung in the play 'A relationship for an academy', based on the story by the Bohemian writer Franz Kafka published in 1917. Two unmissable appointments for the Festival audience, in an evocative space like that of the Auditorium della Stella but perhaps too sacrificed in front of the incredible number of people who would have liked to attend the show but couldn't find the ticket. A complex text, a profound reflection on the search for freedom as a necessity, a descent into the grotesque story of a monkey with mètis who saves himself from slavery by becoming more human than humans.

Luca Marinelli attended Spoleto many years ago when he was a student of the "Silvio D'Amico" Academy, and even then the idea of ​​staging this text accompanied him. At the beginning perhaps he thought of doing it as an actor, then he imagined a monologue for two voices, then he went behind the scenes and left the scene to the very good German actor Fabian Jung. Rare are the actors who would have shown such generosity, especially in such a favorable moment for his career.

Luca Marinelli has spent the last month in Spoleto, where he has transformed a skeleton of directorial possibilities into a lucid and very complex show that does honor to the great Kafkaesque work. On the evening of the premiere, Luca sat among the spectators and at the end of the performance he made himself available for interviews and photos. On Sunday morning the Roman actor was then interviewed at the Festival Garden and, here too, he took a back seat to enhance the theatrical piece and, above all, the great acting experience of Fabian Jung. No stardom attitude, a shy smile and two splendid clear eyes that enchanted the public, not only female. The actor was then seen in the evening in Piazza del Mercato with his little dog, immersed in the most authentic spirit of the Festival, that of a city that finally shines with its own light and is animated by thousands of visitors. No VIP party, no snobbish attitude, but the humility of a noble-minded and pure-hearted artist like his Milton from "Una questione privata" from Fenoglio's novel.

Spoleto 7 giorni

[greatqueenanna]

What do you think of the theory that Honeymaren was made especially to please fans of #GiveElsaAGirlfriend and that initially there would be more moments made to shipp the two until Disney decided to reduce these moments? I'm not saying that they would actually be a couple, but that all of this was meticulously planned to please these fans who wanted her to have a girlfriend without confirming anything.

I always thought it was very naive to think that after years of Disney avoiding the question: “Will Elsa have a girlfriend in Frozen 2?” and they release the film which, despite not being romantic, still shows her talking near a campfire (a moment used in many romance films) with a girl of the same age while they caress a reindeer calf, sing a small duet and they talk about magic and traditions when it would have made much more sense for Elsa to have that conversation with Yelana, but the plot made the older woman stay away from there.

According to most sources I’ve seen (but I need to do more research regarding this, if I'm being honest) the reason Honey (and Ryder) were created was to simply have characters that helped the audience empathize with the Northuldra. They used to have a bit more story content in earlier drafts, which is a shame they got rid of chunks of their story because there wasn't enough screen-time for everything.

This is one of the reasons I feel Frozen 2 would've made an amazing series instead of a film, and why Frozen 3 being separated into two films is such a great idea, even if the initial intention was for more profit. Because let's face it, both the first and second films suffer from the 'too much stuff, not enough space' plot issues so having a show and double film will do wonders for the story going forward.

They also needed characters to help gear the story in the right direction. Honey tells Elsa about the Fifth Spirit, and Ryder helps get Kristoff out of the way so that Elsa and Anna could be alone during the boat scene.

The reason I think Yelena was probably not used, is because her original role was to be a villain along side Runeard, but they scrapped the idea after heavy criticism. Since they had already made Honey and Ryder, there was no point I suppose in giving Yelena a different role other than a leader type to mirror Mattias, especially since they had to shrink down the Northuldra's stories to begin with.

Now, in terms of Honey being created specifically to please fans who want Elsa to be with another woman, I can't say for certain.

I do know that there was a tweet that Jen Lee liked during a Frozen QandA on Twitter (X) where a user begged her to keep Elsa single so that people can imagine her to be with another woman if they wanted. I will see if I can find this tweet for you, but as Jen Lee deleted her Twitter, I’ve lost a lot of sources.

Unless her sentiments have changed, I think Jen Lee will try to keep Elsa single for as long as possible so that fans can decide for themselves what Elsa's sexuality is. Elsa means so much for fans of all sexual orientations, leaving her sexuality open lets fans have freedom with her character. Jen Lee was always about leaving things open for fans, so this concept is not a stretch.

Thus, the possibility that Honey was introduced so that Elsa can have a strong relationship with another woman that is not Anna, but is left open so that fans can interpret the relationship as romantic or platonic, could be a thing.

However, as said, there is no evidence for it other than speculation.

This is also the reason that I pretty confident that Elsa will never be paired off with a man either. They want to leave it open for fans to decide for themselves. Again, unless their thoughts have changed on the subject.