#I always feel like I’m definitely tanner than white people

[somethinginthethunder]

Hello!! Can I get a romantic encanto matchup please :)

Im faith, I’m pansexual so I don’t have any preferences, I’m a ENTP-T and I’m NOT a minor! I have dark brown shoulder length hair that’s cut into a shag/wolf cut with bangs, I have dark brown eyes, I’m half Mexican and half white so I’m a bit on the tanner side, I wear glasses, I’m also on the short side being 5’1

I’m a generally happy person but if someone messes with someone I love I’ll stand up for them even if I don’t like confrontation, I’m very curious person and I like to explore things, I’m also pretty clumsy but I’ve never broken a bone surprisingly, I tend to blush pretty easily especially when it comes to some I like flirting with me, I’m definitely more of a listener then a talking when it comes to emotions but if I really trust someone then I’ll talk to them about my emotions and how I feel, I’m a pretty easy person to talk to even though if I don’t know what to say in certain situations I’ll try my best to think of something to make the other person feel better, I definitely put other peoples feelings before my own, I really like to cook and bake I find it fun, I also really like the rain because while it’s raining I can just read a good book and listen to the rain, lm a pretty shy person when I first meet someone new but I quickly open up, I get excited really easily and I’m always ready to learn something new, I would somewhere I’m in between extrovert and introvert, I like to think Im fun energetic person but I’m also a calm and quiet person, I get pretty anxious in big crowds that are in small spaces, when something makes my feel nervous or anxious or sad I tend to shut myself off from everyone and hide for a while, I also tend to care about other peoples well being more than my own, I also tend to push all my emotions aside to help others. My love languages are physical touch, gift giving, and acts of service I’m pretty bad with words so I feel like I’m able to better express myself by doing something for my S/O.

Thank you I hope you have a good day and make sure you get plenty of rest <3

at this point i don’t even know what sleep is but thank u!! <3 enjoy!

you’ve been matched with: isabela!

-she loves your height. honestly would tease you at first but just believes it makes you more loveable.

-if you ever stand up for her it would probably make her heart flutter since she knows you don’t enjoy confrontation. would of course more than happily return the favor if it ever happened to you.

-someone messes with you? then they mess with her and her plants.

-would catch you with vines if your clumsiness ever calls for it. also loves to explore anything new with you! just seeing you happy is her biggest goal.

-would flirt with you a lot and call you so many cheesy nicknames. will call you her flower just to see how you react!

-appreciates that you listen to her. before the rebuilding of casita she didn’t really feel like she could talk to anyone, so she really loves that you’re okay with listening!

-but if you ever get to the point where you can talk to her about your emotions and feelings, she’d welcome it with open arms!

-oh, what’s that??? you put other people’s feelings before your own? well jokes on you because she will prioritize you and only you because dang it you deserve it!

-would help you cook and bake. decorating would be her favorite part, and she’d probably find a way to make a fun mess.

-when it’s raining she’d sit with you and maybe take a nap on your lap. or would try and convince you to dance in the rain with her

-"so what if our clothes get ruined? you'll look beautiful either way!"

-if you’re in a crowd you don’t like she’ll offer you her hand to hold on to until you both can leave, insisting it’s alright because it is!

-when you shut yourself off she gets a little sad :( but would respect that you need space and give it to you. when you’re ready to come back she’s ready to smother you with love, though :)

-and she knows prioritizing you isn’t enough. she’ll try and break you out of your habit of pushing your emotions away for others. it’s okay to help people but also remember to help yourself!!

-any time she gets a gift from you she WILL cherish it. any kiss, and hug, anything from you she will love forever. because it’s a part of you that is now a part of her <3

[outoftheframework]

characterization cheat sheet: the batfamily boys

Hey everyone! I had the idea to compile a comprehensive list of different traits and attributes for each member of the batfamily based off of both canon and fanon interpretations. I think this could be useful for new members to the fandom, or those looking to write and/or draw for these characters. Remember that these will have a slight bias considering I, a fanon creator, am creating the lists. But I’ll try to make them as accurate as possible.

Appearances vary from artist to artist, so I’ll try to stray away from general details and add more little things you can consider in your art.

Bruce Wayne:

Age: 35-45

Appearance: Extremely physically fit, but signs of aging and prolonged exertion can slip through. Has a collection of scattered scars varying from fresh to fully healed. Strong, dark features. Conventionally attractive, but can easily switch to be foreboding/intimidating. Well kept in public appearances, but can look like death incarnate when in private.

Personality: Dual personas: “Bruce” (at home, but not as batman) and “Brucie” (public appearances like galas, news interviews). Bruce is stoic, well-read and educated, well-mannered, and occasionally can be witty and laid-back. Smirks rather than smiles. Brucie is loud, spontaneous, charming, and sometimes oblivious. He is the womanizer and scandal-maker. Often the actions of Brucie are motivated by Batman’s interests.

Speech: Bruce was mainly raised by as English butler, so his speech patterns are proper and smooth. Rarely uses speech fillers such as “uh” and “um,” except when interrupted while concentrating. Despite living in Gotham his entire life, he has not picked up the accent. His voice is newscaster American, almost impossible to pinpoint to a certain region. His speech as Brucie changes to relate more to the audience he is addressing. Speeches to Gotham high society will sound different than those aimed to the general public.

Additional Attributes: Bruce Wayne in all of his personalities is fiercely protective, and can easily slip into a deeper voice to intimidate. Bruce can be extremely empathetic and slightly impulsive when it comes to children who have lost their parents. As learned through his training to become Batman, Bruce is disciplined and can work for hours straight.

Dick Grayson:

Age: 23-29

Appearance: Dick Grayson mirrors a young Bruce Wayne despite their not being blood related. This could be a subconscious action by Dick to absorb traits of his father figure. His lean acrobatic body starts to set him apart from Bruce’s image. Dick manages to be well-built but still limber and flexible. His feet and hands are rough and calloused. His hair can get long but usually stays at a length in between Bruce’s and Tim’s. His eyes are bright blue without even a hint of green or brown. 

Personality: In one comic I believe it was Superman who said that Dick Grayson is a universal constant, meaning that on every alternate earth or timeline, you can always rely on him to be good and pure. I think this really sums up who Dick should be. He is kind to a fault, and can sometimes be naive and not think things through. He loves to love, be that in his family, in his romantic relationships, in his friendships, and even in strangers. He is a chronic hero who only wants to see the world as a better place. But it’s important to note that Dick can get angry when pushed, and holds grudges.

Speech: Dick is an extremely interesting study in speech patterns. As a child he traveled with the circus, until he lived with clear-spoken Bruce Wayne and a proper English butler. So influences to his speech and accent come both internationally and locally to Gotham and Bludhaven. As a child living at Wayne Manor, Dick picks up a slight Gotham tinge to his accent with some British flourish in his vowel sounds. He regularly speaks in slang. As Nightwing he is able to suppress his unique speech to sound more evenly American.

Additional Attributes: Dick acts differently around each of his family members as to be what they need in a big brother. For example, he is more fatherly to Damian while to Tim he is more an equal. Dick can fidget and has less of an attention span than Bruce. He can use jokes as a coping mechanism.

Jason Todd: 

Age: 22-26

Appearance: Hair is often long on top and shorter on the sides, sometimes with a white streak as a side effect from the Lazarus Pit. Tallest and heaviest of all the kids, very physically intimidating. Has a lot of scars and burns, and in some fan works he has a “Y” shaped scar the length of his chest from his autopsy. Never skips leg day. Green/blue eyes.

Personality: Jason goes through a lot of character development, but for this list I’m going off a timeline of post-Under the Red Hood, where Jason is on okay, yet still a little shaky, terms with the rest of the family. Jason has a hard time separating vigilante life and civilian life; his death as Robin ended his life as Jason Todd, blurring the lines between the two. Jason is legally dead, so he is basically building an identity back up. He holds some attributes from childhood: brave, impulsive, loud-mouthed, and street-smart. But his experiences post-Robin have made him a hardened loner. He lives modestly and with some semblance of order. He’s hard to foster a relationship with, but can be a passionate friend/family member when he opens up.

Speech: Jason probably has the least influence from Bruce and Alfred’s speech patterns, seeing as though he spent a lot more time with his biological family/on the streets than he did as a preteen in the manor. He is the definition of Gotham vernacular, with a rough edge. So much so that as a child, the high society gala attenders sometimes had a hard time understanding him. Often talks in curt, short sentences.

Additional Attributes: He has trouble expressing his emotions, more specifically anger and/or grief. Can both love or hate furiously. Inherently good, but sometimes does “bad” things. Protective over children, especially those living on the street. Very much a believer in “the ends justify the means.”

Tim Drake:

Age: 17-20

Appearance: Pale skin, dark hair. Sharp cheek bones and jawline, mostly from how skinny he is. His body isn’t technically “built” to be extremely athletic, but he’s forced a nice lean build from stringently working out. Easily loses and gains weight as a direct result of his work, causing fluctuations in his build. Five foot something, will eventually be out-grown by Damian. Long hair that can still be styled to look professional.

Personality: Tim Drake is very passionate in pretty much everything he sets his mind to. He feels as though he imposed himself onto Batman to become Robin, so he works twice as hard to prove his worth. He can be self conscious and deprecating. Tim as Robin or Red Robin is very different than civilian Tim; his hero personas can be bolder and more confident. Despite dropping out of high school, he values education.

Speech: Tim grew up rich, and his speech reflects an intelligence gained from private tutors. Despite this, he knows how to interact with those his age in using less formal language and slang. Often quotes books and movies. Can be awkward and stumble over his words when teased by his friends/family. He can manipulate people easily in business settings by talking fast and confidently while explaining complex topics.

Additional Attributes: Tim’s demeanor is directly tied to his varying levels of confidence and anxiety. Tim is has above-average intelligence and is diligent in detective work, but can still act like a teenager. He can be stubborn to extremes and will patiently play the long con. He does not cope well with loss.

Duke Thomas:

Age: 17-19

Appearance: Short dark hair, shaved on the sides and/or the back. Often wears the colors yellow and black. Around the same height as Tim, but a little taller. Stronger and heavier build more alike to Jason than Dick, but he’s still light on his feet. Expressive face that can give away his feelings easily. Still a bit of a baby face, but he’s still well-proportioned and conventionally handsome.

Personality: In my works, I’ve often described Duke as having a “sun-shiny” personality. He is one to not even think twice about putting others before himself. Duke uses his own personal experiences to guide him as a hero rather than suppress his emotions. Duke went from being an only child to having a large family, so he can sometimes feel overwhelmed. He is on friendly terms with every member of the batfamily, as well as many other heroes. Duke is self-sacrificial and is still learning how to effectively work as a detective.

Speech: Duke grew up in a middle class Gotham family, so his speech is influenced by his parents as well as his city environment. Duke has a mild Gotham accent and speaks a lot in modern slang. He hasn’t had much influence from Bruce and Alfred, considering he hasn’t lived with them for long. It’s possible that as he grows he will pick up some influences from Bruce and Tim’s way of speaking, but will most likely hold onto the accent of his childhood.

Additional Attributes: Duke is a metahuman vigilante in a city where Batman typically bans them, which causes a bit of an insecurity and a perfectionist drive. These are exasperated by the long line of history preceding him, as well as the fact that he involved himself in the Robin movement rather than being handpicked by Batman. He and Tim can relate in that way. Duke is an ardent student of Batman and is dedicated to the cause.

Damian Wayne:

Age: 10-14

Appearance: Looks similar to Bruce when he was the same age, yet stronger and with tanner skin. His hair is expertly cut and styled, but still age-appropriate. He is the shortest of the batkids, but still has a lot of time and potential to grow. He pretty much won the genetics lottery with Bruce and Talia as his biological parents, and is made for athletics. He has some scars that stand out with their pale coloring against his tan skin. 

Personality: Damian is slowly becoming less of a brat, to put it bluntly. He admires his family and tries to mimic them, but will never confess it. Damian is quick to judge and will voice his opinion no matter how scathing it may be, both as civilian and hero. Damian is slowly realizing he may not want the Batman mantle as quickly as he planned. Jon is a perfect foil to Damian, and often makes him a better person when they’re together. 

Speech: His speech is proper and formal. Prefers formal titles: ex. “father” over “dad” and last names over first. Damian is at least bilingual (Arabic and English), and can switch between languages easily. Most of his speech patterns developed from his tutors in the League, and more recently, Alfred. Influences like Jon and Dick have introduced him to a more modern, laid-back way of speaking, which he sometimes utilizes when relaxed.

Additional Attributes: Damian has problems with authority, especially those that he doesn’t respect like his teachers at school. He can be arrogant and childish ever though he often acts like he knows everything. Damian is still a child and has much to learn from batman and family as well as unlearn from his time at the League. Dami was forged to be a ruthless warrior, but now has to find a balance between the hero Robin and the child Damian Wayne.

Hope this helps someone! Feel free to add on if you think I missed anything. Just please remember to be civil and respect different interpretations of these characters. Let me know if you want another one of these posts outlining the girls or other characters.

[themoment-before]

This might be too difficult a question to answer idk but I guess I’m just feeling really discouraged right now because I’m white passing Latine and keep getting passed over for Latine roles that keep going to tan white people with dark eyes and dark hair, and I’m like how can this keep happening it’s 2022!!! Idk sorry I guess it’s not really a question I just don’t know what to do or how to feel

There’s no one way you’re supposed to feel when it comes to this, and however you’re feeling is valid. This isn’t something that should still be happening, and yet it is. You’re far from alone in this, though, and I can share my own experience and perspective on it in case it might help you make sense of your feelings.

I’m also very white-looking but Hispanic, and I’ve never been cast in a Hispanic role. I’ve been working as an actor for over a decade, and I’ve auditioned for and been called back for these roles, but I’ve never gotten them. I’ve heard feedback that I “just didn’t look the part,” an agent once suggested I use self-tanner before getting new headshots, and like you I’ve also often found out roles went to white people who “looked more ethnic” than I do (actual words from a casting director, yikes).

I think part of the systemic problem here is that when casting directors hear the phrase “representation matters,” sometimes what they hear is “surface-level representation matters.” By that, I mean they don’t always care if the representation is authentic, as long as it looks like it is on the surface. Looks definitely do matter in some cases—just see all the videos of young black girls reacting with joy to the new Little Mermaid trailer!

But Hispanic heritages usually get lumped into that “ethnically ambiguous” grey area that can quickly get very dangerous. For the past several decades, the term “ethnically ambiguous” has been used as a catch-all for casting that means “we don’t know what you are, but you look diverse.” Unfortunately, it also often means “we don’t care what you are, but you look diverse.”

For many of us, this has meant that if we don’t “look” like our heritage, then we might as well not be it. For me, it’s meant that I’ve been deprived of telling the stories of my own people, simply because I don’t look like what casting directors think my people should look like. I do have a Hispanic last name, but that’s sometimes a double edged sword because I’ve been called in for roles solely based on my name and then immediately typed out once they looked at me.

All this is to say that…it’s messy. Things are changing, slowly but surely, but it’s going to take a lot more squeaky wheels to really get things moving ahead. When you have the opportunity and means, speak up. If you’re proud of your heritage, let it be known, don’t let anyone doubt what you know you are. If you ever feel compelled to speak out and you’re in a position to do so safely, then do. Even if you think no one is listening, I promise somebody is.

[johns-prince]

John also had a lovely mix of masculine and feminine physical traits, though this wouldn't become obvious until 1968. When he was on the skinny side (which I loved, sue me) you could tell how beautifully delicate and dainty his bone structure was, way more than Paul's imo. He had those gorgeous long legs and graceful narrow hips that you most commonly find in fashion models. And I love that until at least 1975, he showcased his body beautifully, especially those legs.

Ironically I feel as if people didn't embrace John's femme beauty as well as they did with Paul. I don't know why. Most people seem to prefer him with the more masculine look of 1966. Which was great as well, he was gorgeous but I am a big fan of the 1968 to 1974 run. Btw, note to fanfic writers: please, show John's body some love, I know Paul is stunning but it's kind of exhausting reading 10 pages about how pretty he is and when it comes to my boy John he barely gets a paragraph 😂

Alright, I feel like I’m probably gonna rub a lot of people in this fandom the wrong way with what I’m going to say but this is my blog and you did send this to my inbox so here we go; At the end of the days these are my thoughts and feelings and I might not articulate them very well or I often ramble till I do!

I have my issues, and a complicated relationship with 1968-70s John Lennon. I love John, and thought him healthy and just right in his body type, basically up until 1968, and it’s spotty onward throughout the 70s. To me, John was naturally masculine looking, there’s not exactly an era or year that I could give you like you gave me [Specifically 1966? What about his teddy boy days? All of the early 60s? Hell even throughout the 70s, to me John still was masculine looking to me] He was a bit awkward in his teenhood, but all the boys were, and gradually grew into his adult body. Boy was built and sturdy, naturally thick and strong. 

So we’re probably split on this, because while you see the positives in 1968-1974/70s John, I only really see the negatives. You say skinny, I say malnourished and/or sickly. Depressed druggie who was pushing everyone and everything he loved away, and becoming pathetically dependent on an individual like Yoko [and the other vultures during that time who were terrible influences] 

George was skinny, John was not well and either starving himself or simply using drugs and alcohol as the basis for his diet. And diets.. don’t even get me started on that, the diets he was on, the unhealthy lifestyle that his wife only seemed to enable and help him get on. 

When I look at George, sometimes I get the need to feed him, like an old Mexican mother. When I look at John, who’d lost an unhealthy amount of weight for what it looked like for his body type, I don’t see delicate and dainty bone structure. I see a man who just, he’s not well, something’s wrong.

I’ll give it to you that 1974 New York photoshoot looked very nice, he had muscle again in his arms, though he was still relatively skinny, he didn’t look sickly, or depressed. So I can give you that period during the 70s, I will give you that [hey he was away from Yoko during this no fucking wonder he looked pretty good here] and that shoot was definitely a model moment, wasn’t it? [Not like he didn’t have many of those moments throughout his life] 

So there moments in the seventies where I think John doesn’t look half bad? Even relatively fine? Certainly, I’m devastatingly attracted to this man, dear God almighty have mercy on my soul yes I am. So I’ll agree that yeah, there were periods during the 70s in which John seemed to hold himself fairly well, I’d still climb it.

But I’m at least willing to admit that when John started his spiraling, in 1968, that he was Not Okay. And I personally believe he wasn’t all that okay throughout most of the 70s too... Maybe my issue isn’t with him being ‘skinny’ as it is I don’t like the underweight/severely underweight look on John, I just don’t. The incredibly unhealthy way he went about losing weight... Physically frail doesn’t fit him, and it only upsets me whenever I see photos of him that show how thin his legs became or how you can see his ribs, just how wasted away he’d look at times throughout the 70s, up until the last days of his life. 

You want a “skinny” or ''skinnier'' John Lennon? A healthy, ‘’skinny/skinnier’’ John Lennon for his body type, is ‘66 and ‘67 in my eyes, and even then it wasn’t a radical change in weight loss; John still looked like John.

And speaking of 1968-1969, or the White Album era; don’t think it isn’t lost on me when I see people making light of John’s unhygienic appearance during the making of the White Album. Boy was depressed and hurting for whatever reason, again, spiraling, and getting lost in Yoko and heroin as a means of escapism and someone to tell him ‘it’s alright it isn’t your fault it’s everyone else’s fault’. Of course he didn’t care much for his personal appearance or hygiene... I will say I appreciate your appreciation for him during that period, instead of getting the whole ‘stinky/smelly rat man.’ Maybe I’m too much of a ‘’stan’’ but I don’t find it very amusing or endearing. 

Don’t find me mocking or ‘’teasing’’ Paul’s depressed ass and his appearance during the breakup period/white album era-- but I suppose it’s because Paul actually tried and wasn’t on hard drugs, and had a good wife, so he was able to wear his depression and struggle with alcoholism a bit better, hmm? I don’t like Paul’s beard simply because I know it was the result of his lack of energy, depression, and falling into the drink-- he simply didn’t feel the need nor had the energy to care for himself, so that’s why he let it grow out. I don’t like it because of that, but that’s as much as you’ll get from me. 

Anyway... Maybe I just don’t see John as characteristically feminine/effeminate as Paul, although he has his moments of acting and wearing clothes that are campy and elegant or give off a softer appearance, specifically around 1968 and throughout the 70s. But otherwise, I can’t agree, John didn’t have the same mixture, or balance of masculine and feminine traits as Paul-- and if it’s only made obvious during the downfall turning point of The Beatles and John (1968), then I don’t think that really counts as a ‘’lovely’’ mix of masculine and feminine traits for the reasons I mentioned. So I’ve got to disagree. John's always come off as much more masculine, or naturally masculine, both physically and characteristically, to me.

You know maybe it’s just the blogs I interact with, but I feel like it’s the other way around. I know I can sometimes come off as aggressive but at the end of the day I don’t necessarily care what one person thinks or believes, since it’s all relatively subjective to our own ideas of things and biases, etc... I have my thoughts and beliefs and theories and whether people agree or disagree with them on tumblr dot com... Well, what’re you gonna do? Nothing, it’s not my problem. 

What I 100% agree on you with is about showing Johnny’s body a bit more love and attention to detail when it comes to writing about him in fanfiction! 

There’s his auburn red hair, a darker ginger, which was thick and fun to watch as it lit up like fire when sunlight hit him, and could easily go wavy and curl when left unkempt and natural. The splattered and scattered galaxies of light freckles up and down his arms, his shoulders, his back, even a couple on his face. His aquiline nose, a relatively square jawline and facial structure, thick, heavy eyebrows which really intensify expressions of rage and hurt, almond shaped eyes which are the color of honey-amber when the light hits them just right and outlined with thick, long lashes, blind as a bat without his glasses but can give a mean squint which either helps scare off trouble, or brings it right to him, especially when he’s got thin bitten lips that could pull off a devilishly cheeky smirk or a no-good, charming grin to showcase teeth with the upper front turned slightly in towards each other, gives that imperfection which truly just perfects it-- a face like that of a tragic hero in a Greek Romance, distinctive and handsome. How he just oozed filthy sex and genuine trouble, sweaty leather and smoky dancehalls and rock & roll that crawls up your spine like an orgasm. Hips that could roll like Elvis and strong legs, thick thighs which would make a lovely place to sit. Broad shoulders, strong arms that could easily manage to lift you up and manhandle you in any way he’d like. Big hands, almost like shovels-- beautiful hands, with fingernails usually bitten short and occasionally had black ink or charcoal under them from when he’d be working on art, and rough, callused fingertips from playing guitar till they split and bleed, add a lovely roughness to any gentle touching he might do. A naturally thick midsection, a normal, healthy layer of fat which covers the sinewy just beneath. Any hair is light, light and lightly colored, on his arms and legs and chest. Cute tush, nice butt, a nice boy butt, slightly muscular bubble butt. 

Fun facts; he had the largest feet out of all four Beatles. John isn’t circumcised. John and George share the same height. John has a surprisingly long tongue. John’s skin tone may be light, but for comparison, he’s much tanner compared to Paul-- he’s a bit more olive or wheat to his skin tone, and tanned very, very well. John’s cheeks could become easily red though. John liked the scent of citrus to wear--  he was also self conscious about the fact he could easily sweat and so usually wore such colognes or scents, didn’t want to smell bad. He started smelling of witch hazel when with Yoko. Despite his issue with sweating, he didn’t smell bad naturally. John was a true romantic, being an artist outside of being a musician/rock and roller-- he just didn’t like to show it, and growing up in his time, you couldn’t. John’s a swimmer, he loved to swim and loved the ocean. 

[neeterloveschenford]

Thoughts on RNM 3x11

Hello my RNM fam! So we finally had an episode that didn’t bring me massive amounts of joy. There were definitely things that I liked. And I think it would have been a fairly decent episode if it were in season 2. But all in all it just didn’t make me giddy like most episodes this season did. I think this one would have worked with a longer season. You need filler episodes when you have 22 episodes a season. But, alas, we got this last night. Like I said, there were things that I liked. So it wasn’t all bad. But I think it was a shining example of the things that they still need to fix. So let’s dive in and discuss the good and the bad.

First off, I still love Jones! He is such a good villain and Nathan has been so amazing this year. Max still drives me crazy, but I think that has more to do with the writing than the acting. I am really going to miss Jones when they take him down. But he’s the kind of villain that you just can’t let walk around. I love that he was seemingly trying to seduce Liz into his way of thinking. Knowing how much she loves Max, he was trying to use his charm and her obvious appreciation of Max’s body to his advantage. And I think he’s attracted to her spunk. I imagine she might just remind him of Nora. I’d really like to know how he actually felt about her. I get the feeling that he loved her as much as someone like him could love someone. I think he felt betrayed when she stole his DNA and killed all of his clones.

It was fascinating to hear him talk about how he killed so many of his people to save the planet. I wonder if they will get into maybe eugenics or something as his reasoning. Now that would be the way to tell a racist storyline. That’s the beauty of sci-fi. You can tell a story that is heavy and hard to do, but set it somewhere that is removed from our everyday life. I mean, we can just turn on the news to see horrible white supremescist terrorizing innocent people anytime anywhere. But through sci-fi we can see issues like this without the heavy-handedness that we’ve seen so far this season. This should have come up a lot sooner and then they could have explored a racism storyline that might have actually worked. I also like how Jones turned the savior trope on its head.

I really love that Dallas isn’t so thrown by being an alien that he walks away from his faith. I think it’s a lot more realistic than always assuming that religion would fall by the wayside if we were to find out we weren’t alone in the universe. I always think about an episode of Babylon 5 I saw years ago when I think about aliens and religion. In it, all of the alien races were having ceremonies that show the religious practices of their planet and the human leader spent the episode trying to decide how to showcase Earth’s spirituality. He ended up bringing everyone to a very long hallway where there was a huge line of people from all different religions lined up to be introduced to the aliens. It was a way to show how diverse the beliefs of human beings are. I thought it was brilliant. People would not just throw away their beliefs simply because we found out we weren’t alone. So it was nice to see how a man of faith could still rely on his faith in God to help him through this. (So now can we tell Arturo that Rosa was resurrected by an alien and not just by a “miracle.”)

Also, I really love Dallas. He can stay. And welcome to the land of bossy Isobel dude. She is ALWAYS this direct!

I know some people wanted Isobel to have the ability to control people, but I’m glad it’s Michael that has that power. I think he can bear the burden of it better than Isobel. Remember how we all thought it was great last episode that she had that moment where she said that’s what I get for invading people’s minds? I think she would not use it the way Michael will. He showed how careful he wants to be with this power when he asked the sheriff for permission to enter her mind and kick Jones out. He will be so careful to use his powers wisely and sparingly. I’m not saying Isobel would go all dictator on folks, but she can be very impulsive.

The Sanders/Michael scene was everything good and right in the world. I love how much Sanders loves Michael. And he is the best one-eyed Miagi that ever Miagied. I am so glad that Michael has him in his life. He is one of the only people (the other being Alex of course) that can get through to Michael. He knows that boy so well and always seems to know just what to say to get Michael to see the truth of who he is.

I am loving Rosa and Isobel’s friendship this season. It was pretty rough last season. But they are so supportive of each other. I love that we get to see women supporting women this season. I hope we have many more moments with them.

So now I’m going to get into the things I truly did not like. First of all, I still think Heath is a major bore. A pretty, pretty, pretty bore. I think he needs to go back to California. I don’t want him to die. That would hurt Dallas and I adore him. But Heath needs to go. Go back to Genoryx. I’m sure they’d take him back.

Wyatt. For the love of all things holy and righteous, can we be done with him now? Sad thing is, he and Rosa actually have chemistry. If this was the plan all along, then why make him so incredibly irredeemable in the first place? What a waste of time and story line.

I do not understand why they cannot plan out how to use the 10 episode characters. This would have been the perfect episode to have Alex and even Greg. An Air Force and a Navy veteran might have been a little useful in infiltrating the secret lair of a diabolical dictator. We now know that Alex saw combat in his three tours. And I can’t remember if Greg is a Navy SEAL in canon or fanon, but I’m pretty sure if it isn’t canon, he didn’t just swab the decks while he was in the Navy. He is a Manes after all. So why would we have an episode like this where they aren’t even utilized? I know Tanner’s schedule is tricky with Bold and the Beautiful, but they filmed so many other things out of order, why couldn’t they swing this one? Really poor planning.

And you’re going to tell me that Alex, Kyle, and Maria aren’t going to be in the mix to save Liz? I would totally understand Kyle and Maria being sidelined with Rosa when it comes to rescuing Liz, but this is just another example of how the writers seem to forget that these people are very important to each other. It’s absolute nonsense. I get that you wouldn’t see each other every day, but Rosa would be a little upset that her brother is in a coma. Alex would be a little ticked off that someone has, once again, kidnapped one of his best friends. It’s really annoying how they expect us to fill in the blanks.

Who likes Harry Potter so much and how can we make them stop with the references?

Why did we just drop the whole funeral vision story line? I mean, no one talks about it anymore. At all. What was the point?

I keep telling myself that some of the things that are wrong with the show are left over from Carina. I know that she at least had an outline for this season in play. We know she wrote the first episode. I know she made a big deal about all the changes that were made after she got booted, but how much could they change without causing problems. I am probably just projecting my hatred of her leadership on this season, but I am hopeful that this is the case and we can be even more streamlined next season. A girl can dream.

Lastly, where the hell was my morning after. I mean seriously people!

Ok, that’s all I’ve got this week. Here’s hoping we can have two hours of wonderfulness next week and end with an amazing experience. Also, can we finally get some Malex appreciation from the rest of the characters? I know I’m not asking for too much. Till next time my lovelies! Hope everyone has a great week!!

[spine-buster]

m a d e  o f  o u t e r  s p a c e | elias pettersson

Summary: Brock Boeser invites Elias Pettersson and his childhood best friend, Svea Nilsson, to his place on Prior Lake for the weekend.  Petey is feeling some feelings.  So is Svea.  And in a big group of twenty-somethings at a cottage on a summer weekend, what could go wrong?

Word Count: 14.8k

A/N: Some tropes here, definitely some character archetypes, but an overall good time that includes Incredibly Soft Bitch Hours™ because I’m an Incredibly Soft Bitch™ for Elias Pettersson. 

Svea Nilsson decided to go to university in Vancouver and Elias Pettersson decided to follow her.  Not the other way around.

Svea and Elias had been best friends since childhood – when Elias saw her faceplant on the ice at the local rink and he helped her up.  Simple as that.  They had the exact same temperament, and everyone would comment about it.  Their parents, their teachers, their mutual friends, their classmates – everybody would always say something: how so very quiet they were; how shy they were; how so very nice they were; how calm they were; how focused they were; how mature they were; how so very humble they were; how dry their sense of humour was; how they would open up when they got to know you.  The only difference between them was hockey.  When Elias began to take hockey more seriously, and play hockey more seriously, it didn’t change things.  Svea only took hockey seriously because Elias did.  She went to his games.  She would watch him.  She’d offer words of encouragement.  But she was the academic.  She was the one with her nose in a book in the stands in-between periods.  She was the one who got straight A’s and helped Elias with his abysmal English grades and had all the teachers loving her because she was so academic, so driven.  

So when Svea chose to go to Vancouver for university, where her mom was from, instead of Stockholm, where all her other friends were dying to go to get out of Ånge, everybody was shocked.  Except for Elias.  He was the first person she told, and the first person who told her to go for it.  She admitted she was a bit nervous to apply, and even more nervous about getting in.  It would mean she would have to leave him in Sweden.  But Elias wasn’t scared about any of that; he wasn’t scared of much, really.  “I’m going to follow you, anyway,” he’d said to her.  “When I play in the NHL.”

And then she got in.  And she had to leave Elias in Sweden.  

But that’s when happens when your mom is Canadian and she moved half around the world for your dad – you choose to rediscover your roots and see and live in the city your mom once called home.  You choose to move half-way across the world despite the fear and despite the fact that you’d leave your best friend behind, relying on May to August to spend as much time as possible with him.  Even though Svea was closer to Elias than she was to anyone else in the world, including her sister; and even though, like Catherine Earnshaw said in Wuthering Heights, “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same”, she was leaving him.  

It was the hardest year of Svea’s life, when she was in Vancouver her first year and he stayed in Sweden to play with Vaxjo.  They would call and text each other constantly, with FaceTimes and Skype dates written into their schedules as easily and frequently as grocery shopping.  That spring, after finishing her exams on April 21st, she returned to Sweden on April 22nd, making it just in time to watch Elias score the game winning goal and the rest of the Vaxjo Lakers win the Swedish championships.  She was so happy for him she cried.  And when she surprised him on the ice – before all the gold paint, before all the champagne – he cried too.  He hugged her for so long she thought he wouldn’t let go.  And truthfully, she didn’t want him to.  

When he signed his contract with Vancouver and moved to the city, he asked – practically demanded – that she live with him.  She agreed because she didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to live rent free with her best friend in a beautiful condo that was bigger than the house in Ånge she grew up in.  She practically had her own wing, with a giant bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows, her own bathroom, and Elias even let her have the den for all her studying.  They’d cook together, go out for sushi and waffles together, and Svea would even go to some games if she wasn’t busy studying.  When she was busy studying, Elias would leave her alone, which was what she loved most.  He understood her.  He never pressured her about anything.  But when she did go out with him – to games or afterwards – he’d made sure she made friends with the team.  So it became not just Elias – it became Brock, and Jake, and Marky, and Bo and Holly too, sometimes even Loui and Adam and JT.  

But in the end, it was Elias.  It was always Elias.  

It was Elias leaving with her when she wanted to leave early from Canucks events she’d inevitably be at or just regular nights out with the guys.  It was Elias calling cabs to take them home.  It was Elias making sure she got tucked into bed safely, leaving an Advil and a glass of water on her bedside table.  It was Elias making breakfast in the morning to cure any hangovers she got.  It was Elias bringing her snacks or making sure she got a good night’s sleep before midterms or exams.  It was Elias hugging her and telling her everything would be okay when she got stressed about a bad mark or an awful professor.  It was Elias who would help celebrate her highs, and would be there for her lows.  

It was always Elias.

>< >< >< >< ><

Friday

When Elias and Svea walked through the arrivals section of Minneapolis-St Paul International Airport, Brock Boeser was already waiting for them, holding a homemade sign that he had definitely scribbled in the car before getting there.  They immediately walked over to him, giant smiles on their faces.  He gave them big bear hugs – Brock always gave the best hugs, Svea thought, besides Elias – and grabbed Svea’s bag for her.  

“It’s only about a half our drive out to Prior Lake,” he said as they walked out into the parking garage.  “Did they feed you on the plane?  You guys want to grab something to eat now?”

“We can just wait and eat something at the house,” Svea said.

“All my friends are at my place already.  I told them to get lunch ready so hopefully they listened.”

“And if they didn’t we’re out of luck huh?” Elias joked as he settled into the passenger’s seat.  Svea slipped into the back.

Svea had never been to Minnesota before – she hadn’t been anywhere in the States besides the Pacific Northwest – but she enjoyed the drive out to the lake as much as she could.  When they finally arrived at the house, Svea admired the beautiful architectural design and big tree in the front.  She knew the house backed onto the lake, so it would be nice to see what the backyard looked like if the front was this beautiful.  

When Brock opened the front door, there was already music playing and a lot of commotion in the kitchen.  Svea, on instinct, instantly became a bit nervous at all the voices she heard.  She looked over at Elias quickly.  “We’re back!” Brock yelled out over the music.  Suddenly, a rush of people came from the kitchen.  Svea was sure she was clutching onto her luggage so tightly her knuckles were white.  “Did you guys make lunch?” Brock asked.

“Parker’s just finishing up,” a beautiful redhead said as she approached them.  Svea could see the pattern of her bikini through her tank top.  The girl stared directly at Elias, not giving her so much as a glance.  “Is this Elias?”

“Okay, everybody!” Brock called out.  “These are my friends Elias and Svea!”  She and Elias smiled politely at everyone, and Elias even gave a dumb wave.  “Petey, Svea…okay, we’ve got Kyla, Hallie, Marcus, McKenna, Brayden, Tanner, Brett, Parker’s outside on the barbecue I guess…and of course, you know—”

“Meeeeeee!” Brock’s girlfriend, Grace Gillespie screamed as she rounded the corner with her arms wide open for hugs, shoving past the crowd to get to her friends.  After having not seen them for a couple of weeks, she was happy to be hosting them in Minnesota.  “How was your flight?  Everything go well?”

Svea gave her a warm hug.  She was so glad to see a friendly face in Grace.  Despite their personality differences Svea loved her and always had a good time with her.  They were fairly close, especially while in Vancouver together trying to navigate the lives of Brock and Elias.  “Everything was nice,” Svea nodded her head as Grace hugged Elias but kept her attention on Svea.  “I’ve never been to Minnesota before.  The drive out here was nice, too.”

“Okay, good,” she said, turning her attention back to Brock.  “Babe, can you make sure Parker’s not burning his face off on the barbecue?  I can show Elias and Svea their room.”

Brock ran out to the back while the group dispersed, Kyla and Hallie’s eyes watching them.  Svea tried not to look, but she couldn’t help it as they made their way through the house, following Grace.  When their eyes met, it was like Kyla and Hallie were hawks and Svea was the prey.  Or was it Elias?  Either way, she didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out.  And when she looked at Elias again, he didn’t even seem to notice – either that, or he did and just didn’t care.  As a young, star hockey player in Vancouver, he was used to people staring at him by now.  There were even times where they’d be out for dinner together and people would approach their table asking for autographs or photos.  Svea knew Elias wasn’t any more comfortable with it, despite it happening so often now – he was still very much uncomfortable with it – but he was learning to take it all in stride.  Her, not so much.  She didn’t know if she could ever get used to people wanting pictures and an autograph of her best friend.  Because that’s what he still was to her, despite all his success and fame – her best friend.  

Grace led them down into the basement of the house.  Thankfully, it got quieter and Svea was actually able to hear her thoughts over the voices and the music.  “Okay, so there’s five bedrooms upstairs and most of us are staying up there, but Brock and I know you guys, and how you like your own space and aren’t loud like the rest of them are, so we put you down here for your benefit,” Grace explained.  “You’ve got the double bed and your own bathroom down here.  And nobody can disturb you, so if you want to, like, take a breather, you can,” she continued, looking directly at Svea as she said the words.  Svea thanked her lucky stars for Grace.  When Grace opened the door, they were met with a plain but cozy bedroom.  Because the basement was technically a walkout, one wall had a massive window, looking out on to the lake.  There was another door that led to said washroom.

“This is so cozy,” Svea heard Elias say as he walked further into the bedroom.  “Tell Brock I want him to bring me breakfast in bed down here tomorrow morning.”

Everybody couldn’t help but laugh.  Svea couldn’t help but admire Elias’s smile.  “Okay, well, I’ll let you two unpack and get settled,” Grace said.  “Lunch should be ready in about fifteen minutes.  And if I were you, I’d put on your bathing suits now because Brock’s gonna drag us all into the lake afterwards.”

She left without saying another word, leaving Svea and Elias looking at each other as they stood alone in the room.  “I think I might have a headache by the end of the weekend,” Elias said.

Svea couldn’t help but snort.  “I think we both will.”

“At least Grace will tell people to be quiet.  Brock will only get louder,” he said as he lifted his suitcase and put it on top of the bed.  Svea followed, lifting her own onto the opposite side of the bed.  “You want to change and go back upstairs with everyone?  I can unpack everything,” Elias offered.

“I’m not going if you’re not going,” she shook her head.  It was the theme of their life together, really.

Elias smiled.  “Suit yourself.”

They unpacked in relative silence, slipping past each other every so often and in and out of the washroom to put away their toiletries.  Eventually Svea escaped inside the washroom to put her bathing suit on under her clothes.  Elias changed while she did.  When she emerged, she found him wearing an obnoxious pair of Hawaiian print swim trunks.  “Did Brock buy you those?”

“He did,” Elias nodded, his smile telling her he knew they were ridiculous but there was no way he couldn’t wear them.  He looked at her, standing near the doorway of the washroom, her hands adjusting the dress she’d changed into.  “Are you nervous, Svea?” he asked suddenly.  She couldn’t help but nod her head.  “I won’t leave your side, okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, Elias.”

“That’s impossible,” he chuckled slightly, approaching her.  “I worry about you constantly.”

That made Svea furrow her brows.  Why would he worry about her?  She didn’t think she ever gave him anything to worry about.  She knew she was really reserved in big groups of people, preferring to just watch and listen rather than act and talk, but so was he.  “Why do you wor—”

“Petey?  Svea?  Lunch is ready!” Grace called down the stairs, interrupting their conversation.  

This would clearly have to be discussed later.  

Elias led them back upstairs, and they looked at the back deck to see everyone congregating near the giant table as they last of the food was being put on plates by Parker.  Grace grabbed Svea’s hand and led her around the table to sit next to her; Elias made sure to follow so he wasn’t stuck with any of the loud and boisterous others.  Brock settled in across from him, which meant the redhead, Kyla, slid in beside him, getting a bit too close for his liking.  She looked at him and smiled and he gave a tight-lipped grin back, trying to be polite, but also trying to tell her he needed more room for his elbows.  He knew he wasn’t a big guy but he could barely get his hands onto the table – he’d look like a t-rex eating at this rate.

“Brock says we can call you Petey – is that okay?” Kyla asked, cocking her head to the side as she touched Elias’s forearm briefly.

“That’s fine,” he nodded quickly.

“How do you pronounce your name in Swedish, anyway?  Cause I definitely want to learn how,” she continued.  

“Wait!  Let me do it!” Brock yelled, interrupting whatever moment Kyla was trying to create.  Brock took one last look at Svea and Elias before taking a dramatic pause and saying it.  “El-ee-as Pet-ter-shon.”

Svea and Elias began to clap, and Brock bowed in his seat.  Elias’s smile was wide at Brock’s pronunciation.  “Good job.  Now we can move on to our ABCs.”

After lunch, Brock took Elias, Svea, Grace, Kyla, and Parker out on the boat.  They zigzagged around the lake, the hot sun beaming down on them as Brock eventually stopped in the middle of the lake so they could swim and sunbathe for a bit.  He cracked open a couple of beers and stripped down to his swim trunks.  Kyla stood up in front of Elias and took her shirt off practically right in front of him, exposing her bikini.  Svea couldn’t help but watch, wondering if Elias noticed how well Kyla filled it out.  Svea never filled anything out.  Whereas Kyla had a beautifully athletic body, Svea had nothing of the sort.  She wondered if Elias noticed the difference between them.  He’d known Svea practically his whole life, but Kyla would be a shiny new toy.  Kyla seemed pretty dead set on getting his attention at lunch, and she was clearly taking the next step.  Even when she jumped into the lake from the boat and came back on, soaking wet and body now practically glistening in the sunlight, she made sure to dry herself in front of Elias too, perching her leg on the edge of the boat to show off her long legs.  

When they got back to the cottage after a few hours of being out on the lake, homemade pizzas were waiting to be devoured as dinner.  And when dinner was over, Grace suggested an innocent movie night before the rowdiness of tomorrow, so everybody changed into their pajamas, poured bowls of popcorn and chips and Skittles, and sprawled out over the couches.  Svea had a bowl of chips in her hands as she watched Kyla settle in next to Elias on the couch, almost instantly beginning to chat him up about the movie.  Elias smiled and nodded but was soon looking around the room.  When his eyes found her, he got up from the couch.  Kyla was mid-sentence.  

“You coming to sit?” he asked, grabbing the chip bowl and leading her to the armchair.  He sat down first, scooting over to the edge until Svea sat beside him.  Brock threw a blanket at her and she unfolded it right before Elias grabbed her legs and swung them over his lap.  She laid the blanket on top of them.  

Kyla was glaring at her.  Nobody else seemed to notice, but Svea felt Kyla’s eyes burning a hole into her.  Svea tried as much as possible to ignore it, but she could still feel it.  

“Comfortable?” Elias asked.

Svea nodded her head.  “I think you were meant to sit beside someone else,” she quipped, quickly and in Swedish so no-one else would understand.  

Elias followed Svea’s line of site and saw Kyla staring, but the second she saw Elias staring too, she looked away, her face softening from its previous glare.  Elias chuckled slightly.  “Her forwardness scares me.”

“She’s flirting with you, you know.  She’s got the hots for you.”

“I don’t care.”

She felt his hand rest in-between her legs, just above her knee, still shielded under the blanket.  When she settled into his chest, and the movie started, she felt his thumb rub circles along her skin.  It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary – he did this all the time – but in a room full of people, and one girl in particular who seemed to want to get him into bed with her, it was a bold move.

Svea sighed.  This was going to be an interesting weekend.

>< >< >< >< ><

Saturday

Svea barely remembered falling asleep during the movie, and she barely remembered being led downstairs to their room by Elias who proceeded to tuck her into bed and cuddle against her in bed, pulling her back against his chest as he wrapped an arm around her.  When she awoke the next morning on her back, Elias’s one arm was still draped over her while the other was underneath the pillows.  His blonde hair – usually combed back into his signature slick look – was everywhere, sticking up in every direction because of the pillow.  His face looked so peaceful as he slept, the softest of snores escaping him.  

Svea and Elias did this a lot: cuddle on a couch and be a bit handsy before sleeping in the same bed together, then wake up with their limbs all tangled and their faces so close to each other if they moved one inch forward, they would kiss.  Maybe they shouldn’t, because it could lead to complicated feelings and mixed signals and messages, but they did.  It was what they did.  It started so long ago in Ånge and followed them to Vancouver and Svea didn’t—couldn’t—never wanted to stop.  Did that make her selfish?  Did it hold her back from meeting a nice guy?  Did it hold Elias back from meeting a nice girl?  

Elias never really asked, but neither did she, about any of that sort of stuff – mostly because they both knew.  They both knew the other didn’t do stuff like that – hook up with people randomly, or without thought.  They weren’t like that and weren’t those types of people.  The last time they’d asked each other about that, the outcome was much, much different.  

It was a quiet night in Ånge, with their parents both out for one reason or another.  Emil was out for a friend’s birthday, and Sigrid was already in Stockholm for university.  They were watching a movie, cuddled with her legs in his lap and his arm around her back under the same blanket on the couch.  Truth be told, she hadn’t been paying much attention to the movie – she had other thoughts on her mind, ever since they started cuddling and Elias had put his arm around her and settled it on the hem of her pants, his fingertips grazing her skin every so often.  This wasn’t the first time they cuddled together underneath a blanket.  This wasn’t even the first time his fingertips touched her skin there.  But because they were alone, and because Svea was…well, curious, she couldn’t help but have that curiosity get the best of her.

“Elias?” she asked in a fake-sweet voice, turning her attention away from the TV and to his face.

“Svea?” he asked back, using an equally-fake-but-sweet tone, but not looking at her.

“Do you like any girls at school?”

That caught his attention enough to have him look down at her skeptically.  “What’s this about?”

She didn’t know what to say, because it’s not like she wanted to actually tell him what was really on her mind.  She should have thought this through much more.  She shrugged her shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant.  “I’m just wondering.”

“Why?  Did you hear something?”

“No.”

“Good,” he sighed out of relief.  “And to answer your question – no.  I don’t like any girls at school.  You know I only have eyes for you anyway.”

“Oh shut up, Elias,” Svea slapped his chest and rolled her eyes at him.  “You’re so full of shit.”

“Am not!” he argued, a smile playing on his face since he knew by her tone she was joking.  “You’re the only girl that’s worth my time, Svea.  You know that.  I wouldn’t be cuddling with anyone else but you.”

“But do you think…” she found herself saying, unable to just shut the hell up.  “Like, you’re not interested in the girls in our grade, but what if a boy is interested in me?”

Elias looked down at her again, brows even more furrowed and an angry look on his face.  “Who?!”

“Nobody, Elias.  Calm down,” she said.  “I’m just saying.  Is it horrible that I wouldn’t feel comfortable if a boy in our grade wanted to kiss me or something?  I mean I’m sixteen but I haven’t even had my first kiss yet,” Svea knew she was just word vomiting now.  She couldn’t help herself, but besides Sigrid, Elias was the only person she could have these conversations with.

“Of course it’s not horrible,” Elias said.  “You’re too good for everybody in our grade anyway.  Nobody should be kissing you.”

“I don’t think I’d feel comfortable with anybody besides you,” she mumbled absent-mindedly.

“What was that?”

She sighed heavily, not wanting to have to repeat herself since she was instantly embarrassed that she’d admitted those words out loud.  But she knew Elias wouldn’t let it go, so she met his eyes shyly.  “I said I don’t think I’d feel comfortable with anybody besides you.”

Elias paused, realizing the weight of her words as they hung in the air.  He barely even blinked as the words ruminated in his mind.  Svea almost wanted to pinch him because he was too quiet – even for him.  All anybody ever said about him was that he was quiet, but he was being too quiet now.  She was about to impulsively just get up and leave when he finally spoke.  “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with anybody besides you, either.”

“Really?” she asked softly.

“Of course not,” he said.  “I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t even want to,” he expressed sheepishly.

Svea shivered.  She looked into Elias’s eyes and saw everything she loved about him.  His humility, his sense of humour he only reserved for her and a select few others, his sense of self.  There was a reason they had stayed best friends all these years, and that high school hadn’t changed anything.  “Elias…” she gulped.

“Svea,” he mimicked her tone again.  

“Elias…if…do you want to—I mean, would you—I—I—if we could lose our virginity to each other, would you?”

*

Svea and Elias found themselves in his bedroom, staring at the other as they stood a few feet away from each other.  Both were barely breathing, too focused on the emotions being shown on the face of the other to think about something as trivial as breathing.  Svea knew she didn’t want to be doing this with anyone else besides Elias, but she was still nervous.  What if she didn’t kiss well?  What if her breath smelled?  What if Elias wasn’t attracted to her once he saw her naked?  What is she did something wrong and—

“Svea?”

“Elias?”

“Are you really nervous like me?” he asked sheepishly.

She nodded her head.  She could almost feel her insides trembling as much as she was on the outside.  “Maybe we should start kissing.”

Elias nodded his head.  “Kissing is a good start.”

They stepped towards each other until they were chest-to-chest.  Elias brought his hands up slowly to cup Svea’s face before he craned his neck down.  Their first kiss was soft, their lips barely touching before Elias pulled away slightly to make sure it was okay with Svea.  When she saw the look in his eyes and she nodded her head, he continued, deeper this time, and they continued like that for a while, kissing as Elias cupped her face.  

It was Svea who first dragged her tongue against his bottom lip, and he pulled back momentarily.  He looked at her.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded quickly.  “And, um, Elias…”

“What is it?”

“You can—you can touch me places besides my face.”

Elias nodded his head nervously.  “Okay.  Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“Are your hips okay?”

“Everywhere is okay.”

He nodded again, their lips coming together again with Svea’s tongue automatically snaking its way into Elias’s mouth.  He began to do the same, his hands dragging down her sides and settling on her hips, pulling her body against his even more.  

This felt nice to her.  Everything with Elias felt right.  Was this what she had been missing out on these past few years with boys?  Svea mentally punched herself for not doing this sooner.  Well, not doing this sooner with Elias.  His lips were so soft, and they moved so in tune with hers.  His hands traveled up her back underneath her t-shirt from her hips, making her shiver slightly.  She liked how his hands felt against her skin as they grazed higher and higher, eventually meeting the bralette she was wearing.  She moved her own hands down to the hem of his pants before tugging on the bottom of his t-shirt.  “Can I take off your shirt?” she mumbled against his lips.  

Elias didn’t say anything – he just helped her tug off his shirt before his hands went to the hem of hers and he pulled hers off as well.  As her top was discarded to the side, she looked at him looking at her exposed body.  He’d seen her with this much exposed skin before – in a bathing suit though – but this time was obviously different.  This time was much more intimate.  He feasted on the site before him, breathing heavily as he noticed the goosebumps on her skin.  He looked her in the eyes and didn’t speak a word – but in that look, she knew he was telling her she was beautiful.  He began kissing her again, wanting to feel her entire body with his hands and beginning to undertake that mission.  

Svea tiled her head back and took in the sensation of Elias’s hands wandering all over her body, and suddenly she could feel his lips on her neck, putting her into another state of exhilaration.  He kissed all the way down to her collarbone while she sunk her nails into the skin of his back.  She let out a small moan as Elias sucked on her neck, not knowing that simple act could pour so much passion and energy into a person.  Her hands grazed the waistband of his sweatpants.  She could feel his breath hitch in his throat.

“Is that okay?” she asked, to which he nodded his head.  She pushed them down gently, leaving him standing in his underwear.  His hands mimicked hers.  She stepped out of her pants and was now left in only her bralette and underwear.  “Can we lie down on the bed?” she asked, not even bothering to wait for his answer before she sat down on the bed.

Elias looked down at Svea, and he couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face.  “Oh my God…” he mumbled to himself.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, a worried look on her face.

“Your lips are so red from all the kissing.  I kind of feel bad,” Elias giggled.

Svea couldn’t help but giggle as well as she brought her hand up quickly to feel her lips.  They didn’t feel any more swollen, but what did she know?  This was her first time, after all.  She still had a burning question on her mind though.  “Does—Does it feel okay?  Do you like it?” she asked timidly.

Elias looked at her as if she were crazy.  “You mean you can’t tell?” he asked, looking down to his lap.  

Svea snorted at his crassness, shaking her head at him as they continued to giggle.  Better giggling with your best friend in bed, she thought, rather than having anxiety and being uncomfortable with someone else.  “Kiss me, Elias,” she smiled, and Elias was all too happy to comply.  

They started by lying beside each other, kissing some more as Elias felt her up through her bralette and she palmed his hard-on through his boxers, but soon enough Elias was on top of her, and she could feel his entire body against hers.  She felt like she was on fire – but in a good way; like a jolt of electricity had just shocked her.  The best part of the experience was that she was doing everything subconsciously.  She wasn’t thinking, for once – she was just doing.  It gave her confidence to know that despite a lifetime of inaction, somehow her body knew what to do with how she was feeling.  Nothing was forced.  Everything felt natural, like it was supposed to be happening, and supposed to be happening only with Elias.  

Then, he helped her take off her bralette.

Then, she helped him pull down his boxers.

Then, he helped her pull down her underwear.

“Did you get the condom from your brother’s room?” she whispered, and Elias nodded his head.  He rolled off of her momentarily to reach over to the bedside table and grab it, opening the package and taking it out.  “Do you need help?” she asked again, her breath heavy.

“I think I’ll be okay,” he said.  She tried to give him some privacy by looking away, but she was too intrigued and ended up just staring.  She hoped he didn’t feel embarrassed or anything – it was more of an education for both of them, really.

When he was finished, he kissed her again before getting back on top of her.  “Svea…”

“Yes Elias?”

“If you ever want to stop, we can stop, okay?”

Svea nodded.  “Okay.”

“Like if it hurts – we can stop.  It’s not gonna be awkward if we stop.  So just tell me.”

“Okay.  Okay.”

He entered her slowly.  It felt like nothing Svea had ever felt before, and she didn’t even know how to describe it – only that it felt right.  There were no other words she could use.  He pushed in a little bit further and there was a little bit of pain.  She closed her eyes and winced.

“Svea?” Elias’s frantic whisper made her open her eyes.  “Svea are you okay?”

“Yes, yes I’m fine,” she said unconvincingly.

“Am I hurting you?”

She couldn’t lie to him, so she nodded her head slightly.  “But it’s okay.”

“I can stop—”

“Don’t,” she cut him off.  “It’s okay, Elias.  Just keep going.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.  Don’t worry.”

He kept pushing.  He hated to see the winces on her face so he decided to give her light kisses in hopes of easing the pain.  When he was fully inside of her, they both stayed still to adjust to the new feeling.  They were barely breathing, but had locked eyes with one another.  “I love you, Svea,” he whispered tenderly.  

They said those three words to each other all the time, because they did – they did love each other.  What kind of love that was still remained to be seen, but because there were so many different types of love, Svea and Elias knew they loved each other in certain ways.  It was why Svea had absolutely no hesitation in responding to him.  “I love you too, Elias.”

As he looked into her eyes and she gave a slight nod of her head, he began moving in and out of her slowly, making sure he wasn’t hurting her or going too fast.  Soon, instead of pain she began to feel pleasure, and it felt good, and she began to try to move in sync with his body.  She could hear Elias grunt slightly as she did so, and she thought that he must be feeling some pleasure too, to make that noise – well at least she hoped.  “Does it feel okay?” she couldn’t help but ask.

Elias nodded his head dramatically.  “You feel really good.”

“I do?”

“Yeah…it…fuck, you just feel really good,” he said.  She brought her hands up to cup his face.  “Does it feel good for you too?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“I want to make sure it feels good for you,” he admitted.  “Will…will you tell me?”

Svea nodded and Elias kissed her again, continuing to move in and out of her and making her feel good.  Their soft moans became more laboured and heavier, and Svea could feel herself getting close.  What her friends had always told her would happen was happening, and she almost didn’t know how to cope with the feeling.  “Elias…Elias…”

“Are you close?”

“Keep going, Elias,” she closed her eyes, ready for the feeling to take over her.

“Look at me.”

She was shocked by his request, but she opened her eyes to find him staring at her.  “I love you,” he told her again, and every inch of her body – from the blonde hairs atop her head to the tips of her toes – knew he meant it.

“I love you too.”

Svea felt a wave of pleasure wash over, and she arched her back and moaned out as it overtook her entire body.  She felt Elias pulsating inside of her, and the desperate noises he was making, along with the heavy breathing and the trembling of his body as he buried his head into the crook of her neck meant she knew he’d just experienced the same thing.  

He collapsed on top of her gently, his body still shaking as he tried to regain his breath.  She wrapped her arms around him and tried to remember how this all felt – the feeling of his lips on hers; the feeling of his hands all over her body; the feeling of his hand on her breasts; the feeling of him inside her, which she knew would end soon when he’d have to pull out and they’d have to clean up.  Selfishly, she wanted this moment to last forever.  It was the sweetest, softest, most incredible thing she’d experienced in her short life.

Elias pushed himself up slightly, just enough so he was able to look her in the eye.  “Did it feel good?” he asked.

Svea nodded her head.  “It was the best feeling I’ve ever felt.”

“Me too,” Elias admitted.  “I…I just wanted to make sure it felt good for you.  I wouldn’t have cared if I didn—”

She couldn’t help but raise her head to kiss him to get him to shut up.  She didn’t want him to ramble in this moment.  He readily reciprocated the kiss, eventually pulling out of her and laying on his side.  They kissed for a few moments longer before Svea pulled away.  “Should we clean up?”

Elias seemed a bit taken aback by the question.  “Uh, yeah, of course,” he said, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t.  “But um, afterwards…can we—do you want to keep kis—I mean, do you want to stay tonight?”

When they cuddled afterwards – after cleaning up, and after Elias methodically disposed of the condom so nobody in his family would find out – Svea put on some of his old clothes and slipped into his bed.  Elias followed close behind, wearing a pair of a boxers and an old t-shirt, and he cuddled up to her automatically.  

Elias and Svea fell asleep like that, and when Emil got home that night and checked Elias’s bedroom to make sure he was home and saw them cuddled in the bed together, he smiled to himself.  

When Svea woke up the next morning, Elias was using her chest as a pillow.  And when he woke up after feeling her move, he gave her one last kiss before hearing all the noise in the kitchen.  They went about their day normally.  His parents didn’t think anything of it because Svea slept over so often; neither did her parents, really.  They just smiled and fed her breakfast and treated her like family, as they always did.  She and Elias always acknowledged what happened with each other (they didn’t tell a soul what happened – no friends, no family, nobody) but didn’t make a big deal out of it.  There was no reason to.  They’d done it out of love, out of some curiosity, but mostly out of love.  It didn’t complicate things.  If anything, it reinforced their love for one another – that they could do something so intimate, and experience it for the first time together, and not have it change things between them.

“What are you thinking about?” Elias’s soft mumble surprised her.  His eyes were still closed but she could feel his legs move slightly, brushing up against hers.

“Ånge,” she lied – only slightly.

“Do you miss it?”

“Yeah,” she said softly.  She missed not having to worry about Elias getting a concussion or injured in hockey.  She missed how simple their lives were when they were sixteen and thought to themselves one night, “let’s have sex”.  

“We’ll be home soon,” he said, finally opening his eyes.  They were so sleepy as they looked right into hers, and he shifted so he could pull her body closer to his.  “I know that you miss your mom and dad and that you miss Sigrid.  I’m sure you miss Sundsvall too.  Being by the water.  When we stay at my place I know that’s your favourite part.  It’s why I bought it.”

She felt a shiver run up her spine at his words.  He’d never told her that before.  “Do you ever get sick of me, Elias?”

“Never,” he replied automatically, nestling his head down so it was almost in the crook of her neck.

“Not even when I’m stressed about university?”

“Never.”

“Not even when you have to drive me around places because I’m scared of driving in Vancouver?”

“Never.”

“Not even when we spend time together in Ånge, then in Sundsvall, then in Stockholm, and we’re like, always together, even in the same room, all the time?”

“Never.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because we’re the same, Svea,” he said, like it was so simple.  “We’re an extension of the other.  And if you can’t be in the same room with yourself – if you can’t be with yourself all the time, then who can you be with?”

Another shiver ran up her spine – more powerful this time – and Elias could tell because yet again, he tightened his grip around her.  He rested his lips on the exposed part of her skin where her neck met her shoulder and kissed her lightly.  She looked down at him.  “For the record, I never get sick of you either,” she said.

“Good,” he said.  “Because I’m dragging you with me everywhere.”

“Oh yeah?  And where are we going?”

“Upstairs to get coffee.”

Svea giggled as Elias rose from his position, looking down at her as his hair fell in front of his face.  It was only then that should could smell the distinct aroma of the coffee he mentioned.  He didn’t bother brushing his hair, instead settling with just pushing it back with his hands.  Svea took a hairband and put half of her hair up in a messy bun before she followed Elias up the stairs.  Luckily, they came face to face with Brock and Grace as they were pouring themselves the first batch of coffee.  

“Where’s everyone else?” Svea asked, even though she was grateful for the quietness they had now.

“Still sleeping, probably too hungover to get up this early,” Grace whispered, handing Svea the cup of coffee she just poured.  “Want to come out on the deck with me?”

“Of course.”

The girls went out on the deck and sat at the table; the last thing heard being Brock chirping Elias about how bad his hair looked.  “Did you guys have a good sleep?” Grace asked.

Svea nodded her head.  “Thanks for putting us down there.”

Grace gave her a knowing nod.  “I knew, don’t worry.”  She paused as she took a sip of her coffee.  “So you and Elias…” she began.

Svea knew immediately where the conversation was headed.  Although Svea loved Grace she wasn’t going to tell her what he’d said to her that morning.  It was a personal moment not meant to be shared.  Grace had been telling her for months that it was clear Elias felt something different, but Svea wasn’t so sure.  He’d always acted the same around her, so she honestly couldn’t tell.  “Still nothing, Grace.”

“You guys are going to be the death of me,” she was exasperated.  “Do you honestly think he feels nothing for you?”

Svea shook her head.  “I know that Elias loves me,” she began.  “That’s not a question.  But does he love me the way you’re implying?  I don’t know.  We’ve known each other for so long, Grace.  We’ve been through everything together.  It’s different when you literally grow up with someone.  But like…dating?  Romantic love?  We’re only twenty-one.  I don’t know if Elias even wants that with me.”  She paused to fiddle with her hands.  “Besides, I think Kyla is really into him.”

“Kyla and McKenna werent’t even supposed to be here.  And if Kyla tries something with Elias, I will throw her into the lake,” Grace deadpanned.  Svea couldn’t help but laugh.  Grace reached over and placed her hand on Svea’s forearm.  “Svea, come on.  If you think Elias doesn’t want that with you, you’re wrong.”

Svea looked at the window, seeing the boys talking about something while standing next to the stove.  She could only imagine how much Brock was chirping Elias about his hair – he probably hadn’t stopped.  Sometimes, at night, she truly did wonder if Elias saw her in any other way besides his best friend – if he saw her as a romantic interest, as a partner – hell, sometimes even just as a woman.  But she tried not to dwell on those thoughts for too long, because she knew they’d overtake her more rational thoughts eventually, and then she’d have a mess on her hands.  Elias, in many ways, was her everything, and more than anything, she wondered if she was his everything too.

*

“So you and Svea…” Brock began, his voice low so no-one upstairs would overhear, and so Svea and Grace outside couldn’t hear him either.  Even though he would love to see them together, and thought they were taking their sweet ass time (obviously) and were made for each other (obviously), he wanted to stay out of it and let things happen naturally.  If there was one thing he knew about Petey, it was to not force him into things.  Grace had other ideas.  She wanted Brock to help her get to the bottom of it.  She wanted to know all the details.  And, well, Brock loved his girlfriend, so here he was.

“What about it?” Elias asked.

“Bud, you can’t stand there and tell me there’s nothing between you.”

Elias sighed.  “I don’t want to get into it.”

“That’s great, ‘cause I do.  You mean to tell me nothing happened last night?”

Elias gave Brock one of his infamous death stares.  He knew Brock wouldn’t let it go and that they death stare had no use.  He shook his head slightly.  “No, nothing happened last night.  I don’t want to risk it.”

“Risk what?”

“Losing her.”

Brock furrowed his brows.  “What on earth makes you think you’d lose her?  Do you honestly think she doesn’t have feelings for you?”

“We’ve grown up together, Brock.  It’s different.  I know Svea loves me.  She’s been there for me through everything, through all the hockey, and she never complained once,” Elias shook his head again.  “I can’t be selfish and demand this from her too.  Besides, I don’t know if she wants that with me.  It…I…just…I love her, Brock – in all the ways a person can love another person, but—”

“But do you love her romantically?” Brock asked.

Elias paused.  His mouth dropped open, about to say his answer that he knew definitively in his heart, until out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure.  He looked over to his right to see Kyla stretching at the foot of the stairs, her pyjama t-shirt riding up to expose her midriff.  It was very obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra.  “Good morning,” she cooed after she finished her stretch, looking directly at Elias.  

Brock looked like he was about to punch a wall.  Elias looked away from what she was trying to show off.  “Good morning.”

“Is that coffee I smell?” she asked, walking into the kitchen.  

“Just made,” Brock said, his voice monotone.  “Are the others up?”

“McKenna’s just about to come down,” she said, stepping in between Elias and Brock.  Brock left the situation.  She peeked up at Elias through her eyelashes.  “Have a good sleep?” she asked.

“The best.”

“Is it cold in the basement?” she asked, her voice low so only Elias could hear her.  “Need some warming up?”

Her forwardness really did scare him.  “It’s not cold down there when Svea’s there,” he said.

Kyla’s face immediately dropped.  Before she could try to flirt some more, Grace and Svea walked back in from the back deck.  Svea was almost immediately looking at Elias, trying to survey the situation.  “Should we start breakfast?” Grace asked, moving past Kyla towards the fridge.  Grace gave her a death stare for being so close to Elias.  “What do you want to work on?”

As more of the guests made their way down the stairs, every chose a job to do – Svea and Elias worked on the bacon; Brock and Grace the scrambled eggs; Kyla made toast; Marcus worked on setting the table; Brayden made the sausages; Brett and Parker cut up fruit.  McKenna and Hallie made more coffee.  Breakfast was ready in no time.  

When everybody began to sit around the table, Svea was shocked to see Kyla sit beside her.  “So Brock told us you live in Vancouver, too,” she said, smiling.  “Whereabouts?”

“Oh, um, Yaletown.  Same as Brock and Elias,” she said, omitting the face that she lived with him.

“Oh my God, that’s so cool,” Kyla put some scrambled eggs onto her plate.  Svea knew she didn’t really care.  “And how do you know Elias?”

Svea knew Kyla cared about that, so she gave into the questioning because she knew everyone else in the house save for Brock, Grace, and Elias would think she was a bitch if she didn’t.  “We met when we were three – we grew up together in Sweden.”

“And then you followed him to Vancouver?”

“No no no,” Svea shook her head vehemently.  She could see Elias smile as he settled in on the edge of the bench beside her.  “Elias followed me.”

“Elias followed you?”

“Svea always wanted to go to UBC because her mom is originally from Vancouver,” Grace piped in, stuffing a piece of strawberry into her mouth.  “Svea got accepted first.  Then Petey was drafted, but stayed in Sweden for a year.  Then he signed with the Canucks and the rest is history.”

“Svea could have told me, Grace,” Kyle said teasingly as she gave a look to Svea.  “You’re so quiet, girl.  Speak up a bit.”

“Svea speaks when she wants to,” Grace quipped again.  “And more importantly, when she needs to.”

When breakfast was over, everybody showered, got ready, and changed into their bathing suits before heading outside for another day out on the water and patio.  Brock commandeered his boat and suggested some wakeboarding and other watersports out on the lake.  In the smaller boat, Brayden, Brett, Parker, and Hallie followed them out onto the lake.  There was no way Svea would wakeboard, but she knew Elias liked it.  She opted to take photos and videos of Elias doing so instead.  His parents were going to kill him.

They were out having fun on the water for so long – diving off the boat, swimming, wakeboarding, tanning, drinking, relaxing, talking – that nobody noticed they didn’t have lunch.  They just kept up their activities, with Elias wakeboarding a few times, followed by Brock while Marcus commandeered the boat.  Parker did a few cool flips while he wakeboarded.  It was hot, the sun was shining, and Svea was having the time of her life.  For those hours they were out on the lake, what Elias had said to her that morning in bed, and what Kyla had said and done (and continued to say and do) didn’t matter; she was just a girl out on a boat with her friends, and life couldn’t get any better.  

But then, of course, reality set back in.  More hours isolated on the boat meant more drinking.  Not from Svea, of course, because she knew her limit and because she didn’t want to get drunk in front of, statistically, more people she didn’t know than did; and not from Brock or Brett, because they had to drive the damn boats; but from the others – Marcus, before he drove the boat; and Grace, because she wanted to have fun; and Kyla, because she was Kyla; and McKenna, because Svea had no clue anymore because it wasn’t like McKenna spoke three words to her since the moment she got there.  

Svea was expecting nothing when everyone wanted to take one last dip in the lake before they went back to the house.  So when they all stood at the edge of the boat, and when Brock was finished taking the Instagram picture for Kyla of all of them with their hands around each other��s backs, they all jumped.  Svea hit the water hard and deep, like divers usually did, but something felt different.  Something felt…off.  And when she emerged from the water, wiping her eyes and trying to figure out what it was, it hit her like a tonne of bricks.  

Where was her top?

She felt everything in her stop.  When Elias emerged from the water and looked around to find her, the first thing he noticed was the petrified look on her face.  “Svea?” he asked.

“Yooooohooooo!” McKenna’s giggles were loud.  Svea turned around to face everybody else: Grace, Kyla, Marcus, Brayden, Brett, Parker, Hallie, and McKenna, only to see McKenna waving her bathing suit top above her head.  Svea’s bathing suit top.  

She was absolutely mortified.  

She screamed out in fear, finally having the wherewithal to cover her exposed breasts by hugging herself.  Kyla’s laughs and enthusiastic woos filled her mind as McKenna whipped it around like a lasso, like it was some prize they’d won.  In a way, it was: she’d won in making Svea feel completely embarrassed and uncomfortable and humiliated.  

“What the hell McKenna!  Give it back!” she heard Brock scream from the boat.  Svea watched as Elias swam over to McKenna and snatch the top out of her hands.  Grace looked like she was going to perform a ritualistic murder right then and there.  

“Oh come on!  It’s just a little bit of fun!” McKenna tried to defend herself.

“It’s how you get christened in Minnesota!” Kyla added.  “Everybody knows that!”

Svea tried not to focus on them anymore; they would defend themselves to the last second before the door dropped for the noose, so there wasn’t any point in listening.  Instead, she tried to focus on calming her emotions that she knew would bubble over – the tears that were threatening to escape, the flush of red to her cheeks, the nervous shaking from all the embarrassment of these girls and these men probably seeing her practically naked body underneath the water before she even realized what was going on.  She tried to focus on Elias, swimming back to her with her bathing suit top in his hands.  “Elias…” she said her voice extremely shaky.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he cooed, swimming up to cover her before handling the bikini top, trying to figure out which part went over her head.  She grabbed it from him to try to help.  “I got you, it’s okay.”

“Elias I’m so embarrassed,” she cried, her hands trembling too much to do it.  “I can’t—I can’t—”

“Here, let me,” he mumbled, taking the top back from her.

“Could they see everything?  Be honest.”

“No.  You can’t see anything in lake water Svea,” he said quickly.  

She knew he was probably lying to her – the lake water was clear as fucking day.  “Elias—”

“It’s okay—”

“Elias I’m mortified.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he kept repeating, putting the top back on over her head before turning her around without warning so he could tie it for her.  “You’re okay, Svea.  You’re okay.”

“Everybody saw my boobs Elias,” she cried again, still clutching onto them through her bikini top like they were going to fall out again.  He wrapped an arm around her and began swimming back to the boat.  “Only you’ve ever seen my boobs.”

Elias looked at her when she said the last sentence.  She couldn’t discern the look on his face.  “And it stayed that way,” he said.  “Nobody saw, Svea.  The water was all…wavy.”

Elias let her climb back onto the boat first, where Brock was ready with an open towel for her.  “Here you go, sweetheart,” he said, wrapping her in it.

“Thanks, Brock.”

He absolutely hated hearing the defeat and embarrassment in her voice.  “Grace will take care of Kyla and McKenna, don’t worry,” he said quickly as everybody else began climbing up the ladder and back onto the boat.  

The first thing McKenna did when she got back on the boat – even before drying herself off, which was what you were supposed to do – was finish off her beer.  Grace glared at her once she finally grabbed a towel.  “You need to apologize,” Grace said firmly, looking right at McKenna.  “What you did was so mean.”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t a big deal,” McKenna rolled her eyes.  Svea wondered if that was the alcohol talking or if McKenna was really like this.  She couldn’t imagine Brock being friends with someone like her.  But then she remembered that Kyla and McKenna weren’t even supposed to be here this weekend, and it all sort of made sense.  Maybe they were friends of friends, and Brock was too nice to say no.  Maybe he knew them only casually, and they tagged along unannounced to take advantage of being at an NHL player’s house for the weekend.  

“It was a big deal to Svea,” Grace continued, her voice still firm.  Grace looked at her to see her face still sullen.

“It’s fine,” Svea mumbled out, Elias’s arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder as she sat on his lap.  She didn’t want to cause any trouble, regardless.  She was a guest at Brock’s house as much as McKenna was, and didn’t want or need the added attention on her.

“I’m sooooorrryyyy, Svea,” McKenna laughed through her apology.  “But you’re considered a Minnesotan now, so take that a bonus.”

Svea didn’t respond.  She just nodded her head down and nestled further onto Elias, letting her head lean against his as Brock navigated back to the house.  McKenna and Kyla didn’t have a care in the world as they continued to talk to each other the entire way back, shooting a few looks her way throughout the journey back.  They disembarked the boat first before running into the house.  Brock helped Svea get off the boat, where she immediately went down to the basement to take a shower.  She felt like she had to get all the lake grime off of her before everybody started prepping for dinner.

As she changed into regular clothes and stood in front of the mirror trying to French braid her hair, she heard the hustle and bustle from upstairs.  She tried to pay it no mind until she began to hear voices – all too familiar voices.  

“Petey is so hot and cold, don’t you think?” Kyla voice was a bit muffled, but it definitely sounded more sober than what it sounded like half an hour ago when she issued her fake apology.  Svea stood silent.  Maybe eavesdropping wasn’t the most noble of things to do, but she was going to do it anyway.  “I don’t know if he even registers that I’m flirting with him.”

“I think that alien is hot for only one person here, and that’s Svea,” she heard McKenna retort.  

“You think so?”

“You don’t see the way he looks at her all the time?  They’re even sleeping in the same bed.”

“Yeah, but Brock said they grew up together in Sweden—”

“So?” McKenna retorted.  “That ‘she’s like my little sister’ line guys always pull is bullshit.  And Petey didn’t even say that about her.  They’re best friends.  Well, best friends.  You know what that’s code for.”

“Well, hopefully by the end of the weekend he’ll have a new best friend,” Kyla chirped.

“Listen, if anybody in this house could pull it off, it’s you,” McKenna encouraged her.  “He was eyeing you in your bikini yesterday.  I mean, you’re much more appealing that way than she is.  Every guy loves a good flirt.  Just use what you’ve got and I’m sure he’ll open up to it.  Only problem is Svea’s gonna have to sleep on the couch when you do.”

The girls giggled and Svea could feel her blood boil.  Elias wasn’t hers by any means, and she didn’t own him in any way, shape, or form, but Elias was hers.  In every sense, he was hers, and she was getting angry at herself for getting angry at these girls for wanting him.  Who was she to stop him from getting what he wanted if he really wanted Kyla?  And who was she to cry and be upset about it when Elias was a grown man and she was a grown woman capable of making their own decisions about who they liked and who they slept with?  She quickly fastened the end of her French braid with an elastic and wiped away the angry tears that fell, trying hard not to cry so she wouldn’t go back upstairs with red eyes.  She’d already been embarrassed once today; she didn’t need to be embarrassed again.  

She waited a few minutes until her emotions subsided before she walked back upstairs.  Almost everybody had congregated in the kitchen.  She saw Elias sitting outside on the deck.  Kyla was already all over him, pressed up against him.  She didn’t quit.  Svea had to at least admire her persistence.

*

That night, after dinner and drinking and drinking games and loud music and laughing and singing and even some drunken dancing, Svea watched as Kyla plopped herself into Elias’s lap as they all sat in Adirondack chairs around the firepit near the water.  Grace bought boxes of smores kits and they were wrapping them in foil for everyone to toast over the fire.  The boys were still drinking and finishing off the rest of the beers; Kyla was finishing hers as she sat on Elias’s lap.  Kyla was looking into Elias’s eyes as she sat on Elias’s lap.  Kyla was giggling and flirting as she sat on Elias’s lap.  Kyla wiggled her butt suggestively as she sat on Elias’s lap.

And as long as Kyla was going to sit on Elias’s lap, Svea couldn’t be there.

She wondered if Grace could see her almost constant glances in their direction.  She felt a rumbling in her stomach, probably from all the alcohol that was now mixing with the jealousy that roared in her belly.  A lethal combination for anyone, Svea thought, least for her, who’d grown up with him and watched him mature and was now watching as another girl was trying to take him from her, slipping him through her fingers like sand on a beach.  

“Can you save mine?  I just want to go to the washroom for a quick second,” Svea said as she stood up.

“Don’t be long.  There’s only so long I can wait to have chocolate,” she smiled and winked.

Svea walked the path up to Brock’s house and walked inside.  Luckily there was nobody else inside, so she was free to be alone – alone with her thoughts, her emotions, and the tears that threatened to spill, yet again.  Did she have a right to be jealous?  Did she have a right to feel these feelings for Elias and have them bubble up because of the persistent actions of another girl?  She didn’t know what to do.  She didn’t know what to think.  

Svea didn’t know how long she was in the house alone for.  But as she was lost in her thoughts, she heard the screen door open.  She looked up to see Elias.  He was glad he didn’t have to look hard to find her.  “Hi.”

“Hi Elias.”

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

Svea shrugged her shoulders.  “Just thinking.”  She used that answer a lot on him.  He was used to it.  The alternative to talking, which she expected Kyla did a lot of outside with him anyway.  He walked over and sat beside her on the couch – right beside her, leaving her no room.  He took her hand and held it in his.  Her brows furrowed slightly.  “Why’re your hands so clammy?” she asked.  

“Why do you think?” he asked.  “I had to spend twenty minutes outside with Kyla on my lap trying to get me hard.”

The jealousy roared in her belly again.  Here it was.  He came in to ask her the inevitable request for her to sleep on the couch tonight so he could bring Kyla down to the basement instead.  Grace would have to get her an extra blanket and pillow.  Her back would hurt tomorrow morning.  She’d have to wake up whenever the first person came down and offer to make coffee and—

“Are you here to ask me to sleep on the couch tonight?” Svea blurted out.

Elias furrowed his brows, looking at her like she had three heads.  “Why would I make you sleep on the couch?”

“Because you want to sleep with Kyla,” Svea said matter-of-factly.

Elias froze.  “Svea,” he deadpanned.

“Elias?”

“Svea, you’re the smartest person I know, but you can be incredibly dumb sometimes.”

Svea was taken aback by his words.  He often teased her like this, maintaining that she often didn’t see things that were right in front of her.  Maybe it was one of her many faults, along with so many other things she was learning about herself this weekend, perhaps the worst being how possessive she was over him.  “What do you mean?”

“Svea—” Elias tried to begin, but he couldn’t find the right words.  He sighed before continuing.  “Do you remember that night in Ånge where my brother rented all the Austin Powers movies and we spent the entire night watching them?”

“Yes…”

“Well here’s a line for you,” he said, trying to remember it word for word.  “If I was the last man on earth, and she was the last woman on earth, and the future of the human race depended on our having sex to keep the population going, I still would not sleep with Kyla.”

Svea’s breath hitched in her throat.  “But Elias—”

“How could you honestly think I’d want to have sex with her?”

“She’s into you.  And she’s pretty, Elias, and tanned, and fit…and she’s—”

“No, Svea,” he interrupted her firmly.  “I would have rather had you on my lap out there.  You know that.”

“I can’t get you hard,” Svea mumbled.

Elias smiled amusingly at her words.  “You don’t think so?”

She didn’t appreciate him mocking her.  She rolled her eyes at him and his attempt to make light of this situation.  “Elias—”

“Svea, you’ve been getting me hard since we were sixteen and we were each other’s first,” he finally confessed, albeit a bit crassly.  It wasn’t the way he wanted it to be out in the open, but right now, there was no turning back.

The words hung in the air as they looked each other in the eye.  Svea couldn’t believe what had just come out of his mouth.  Elias was always honest with her, always, so to say that she was shocked he’d just admitted that out loud was an understatement.  Elias was a quiet guy, always, and she was a quiet girl, always, and that was…new.  “Are…are you s-serious, Elias?” she stuttered out. 

“I would never lie to you, Svea,” he said.  “Now can you come back outside and sit on my lap?”

*

When Elias and Svea walked outside, he brought her directly onto the dock, right to the end so they were looking out at the lake.  She made eye contact with three people on the way there: Brock, who sent a wink her way when he noticed the two of them together; Grace, who sent her own wink and wiggled her eyebrows; and Kyla, who sent her a death stare when she noticed Elias was holding her hand to guide her through the relative darkness.  When they finally reached the end of the dock, Svea saw one of Brock’s Adirondack chairs and a blanket.  Elias adjusted it so it faced the lake.  Svea looked back towards the backyard; everyone was dispersed in their own little groups, allowing them the alone time and privacy Elias apparently wanted.

“What are you looking at?” Elias asked quietly, trying to preserve the tranquility of the dusk.  

“Nothing,” she brushed him off.  She wasn’t going to tell him she was making sure Kyla wasn’t stomping down the dock to join them.  

“Then come sit.”

When she looked back at him over her shoulder, he was already sitting on the Adirondack chair, unfolding the blanket.  It was a scene Svea had encountered countless times before – in Sundsvall, specifically, on the balcony of his apartment when they’d go out at night and look out at the water and the lights of the city across the Bothnian Sea.  She moved to sit on his lap, settling into him as he wrapped an arm around her and lay the blanket over them.  He draped his other arm across her lap while the one around her back snuck underneath her shirt, rubbing the skin at the small of her back.  When he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, his nose and lips grazing her skin, a shiver ran up her spine.  She was sure he could tell.

She began to remember the things he’d said since they got to Minnesota: how he always worried about her, about how they were an extension of each other, how he bought his apartment in Sundsvall because he knew being by the water was her favourite.  And now, with the comment said not even five minutes ago about her getting him hard since they were sixteen.  She thought about the implications of it all, and what it meant for her – what it meant for them, really, because she agreed with what he said about being an extension of each other.  

She was apparently lost in her thoughts – too lost for a few moments, because when she finally came to, she felt his lips graze the skin between her shoulder and neck.  “What are you doing, Elias?” she asked, her voice as quiet as his was before.

He didn’t answer.  Instead, they made eye contact and he looked at her for a few moments before leaning in and kissing her.  Like everything Elias did, he was perfect at it.  Soft lips, a passionate touch, and a tenderness nobody else could duplicate.  Much like when they were sixteen, she didn’t want it to end.  But when it did, with Elias pulling away first so he could look her in the eyes again, there was something else to be said.  “I love you.”

They were words Svea had heart countless times before – countless – but this time, it felt different.  Completely different.  She froze slightly.  “You love me, Elias?”

“Of course I love you.”

“No, Elias,” she bit her lip.  “You, like…love me?”

“Yes, Svea,” he said, his hand traveling further up her back.  “If you ever want to thank Kyla for one thing, it’s for making me realize how much I love you, and how long I’ve loved you for, because all her attention made me realize that I only want that kind of attention from you, that I only want you, and nobody else, and the thought of being with anyone else, or the thought of you being with anyone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

She felt a rush of blood to her cheeks as she blushed.  How long had she been waiting for him to hear those words and she didn’t even know?  How long had she wanted him to say those words to her, deep down inside somewhere within her?  Had she known this entire time and just not realize it?  Had she felt the same this entire time too and just didn’t verbalize it?  She couldn’t help but think he was being a bit of a drama queen about it though.  “You brought me all the way to Brock’s house in Minnesota to tell me this?”

Elias giggled like a schoolgirl.  “I guess I did.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I never said I was smart like you,” he said.  “Remember when all the kids in class would call me space boy and alien boy because they said I looked like an alien?”

“You do look like an alien.”

Elias nudged her.  She laughed before snuggling back into him.  “If I’m the alien, you’re the stars, Svea.”

She smiled.  This time, it was her that moved to kiss him, doing it by her own accord and with such conviction she surprised even herself.  It was like she was sixteen all over again, except she wasn’t; she was still Elias’s best friend; still the most important person in his life; still getting him hard, apparently.  Yet now, she was twenty-one – older, somewhat wiser; a university student, not some precocious high schooler; living in Vancouver, not in Ånge; having Elias telling her he loved her – loved her loved her – not just as friends.  That he made clear.  And although she was still coming to terms with it, and still couldn’t really wrap her head around it, at least her body was reacting to the news appropriately, much like her body had reacted appropriately all those years ago in Ånge, when she came up with the brilliant idea they’d acted on.  

The only thing that could interrupt their kissing was Brock screaming at the top of his lungs.  As Elias and Svea pulled apart, they watched as Brock ran down the dock in only his boxers, somersaulting into the lake like some sort of Olympic diver.  They couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he came back up, whipping his hair to the side so it was out of his eyes.  

“Brock!” Grace yelled, grimacing as she ran after him.  “You’re going to smell like a wet dog!”

*

Tanner had passed out on the bathroom floor, and everybody decided to leave him there just in case.  Marcus faceplanted into the couch, saying he couldn’t deal with stairs.  Brock said the dive into the lake sobered him up, so Grace dragged him up the stairs into their bedroom.  McKenna and Kyla were the first to shut their bedroom door, but not before Kyla gave one last look at Elias’s arms wrapped around Svea and wishing she was in that position.  

When they descended down into the basement together, Svea could barely get a word in edgewise before Elias shut the door and his lips found hers again.  No less passionate and no less soft, his hands attached themselves to her hips, almost immediately finding their way underneath her top while his tongue slipped into her mouth.  His hands felt warm against her skin but they still sent shivers down her spine.  She ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back so it wouldn’t tickle her like it sometimes did.  

He guided her towards the bed.  When the backs of her legs hit the edge, Elias’s hands traveled higher.  Svea’s breath hitched in her throat as his fingers traced the edges of her bralette.  He noticed and stopped kissing her.  “You’re not scared, are you?” he asked hesitantly.  

“No no no,” she whispered as she shook her head.  “Just…nervous.”

“Why would you be nervous?”

“I…don’t know,” Svea said.  She did know why.  She just didn’t want to say it out loud and risk embarrassing herself.  “I…I haven’t been with anybody besides you, Elias,” she finally admitted.  

He seemed sort of shocked for only a moment.  “You never did anything first year university when you were here alone?” he asked.

“No.  I couldn’t bring myself to.  I didn’t…I didn’t want to if it wasn’t you.”

Elias nodded his head.  He understood.  “Me too.”

Her brows furrowed.  “Me too what?”

“I haven’t been with anybody beside you,” he confessed.

Svea couldn’t hold back her shock like he could.  “What?  Not even in Vaxjo?  You were the star of the team,” she reasoned.  She found it hard to believe because there was no way – no way – that he didn’t get offers left, right, and centre while he was playing for them, especially during their championship run.

“I never…no,” he shook his head.  “I didn’t want to if it wasn’t you, either,” he used her own words.

Svea took a deep breath.  God, they were so stereotypical.  They were such losers.  A star hockey player and a first-year university student living away from home for the first time and they didn’t take advantage of their situations because they didn’t want to without each other.  “We’re so lame, Elias,” she deadpanned.

Elias couldn’t help but laugh at her words.  “I know, right?  We’re pathetic.”

“So pathetic.”

Elias gave her a quick kiss as they giggled.  “Svea?”

“Elias?”

“I love you.”

Svea smiled.  “I love you too.”

“Can I make up for lost time?  Can we make up for lost time?” he asked softly.

Svea took another deep breath.  Her hands rose to rub his chest as she nodded her head, momentarily forgetting the small little detail that they were at Brock’s house.  In the basement.  Just as Elias dipped down to continue kissing her, she brought her hands up to his lips.  “We’re at Brock’s house.”

Elias furrowed his brows.  “So?”

“Won’t it be a bit awkward?”

He laughed again.  “Svea, come on.  More awkward than doing it in the bed I slept in as a kid?”

“Elias!” she exclaimed, the both of them giggling uncontrollably.  “Well when you put it like that—”

Elias couldn’t wait any longer.  He dipped his head down so he could start kissing her again, his tongue slipping in with ease.  With his hands travelling higher and higher, he eventually helped tug her top off, letting it fall by their feet.  He could feel the goosebumps along her skin.  He could feel her tugging at his shirt, too, and helped with taking it off.  

When they moved to lie down on the bed, Elias made sure to kiss at Svea’s neck and collarbone.  The little sighs and gasps that escaped her was his fuel to keep going, travelling lower and lower until he reached her chest.  “What do you like?” his voice husky.  

That was a mute question.  Not only could Svea not think right now with Elias’s lips so close to her boobs, and it wasn’t like she had the experience to know what she liked and didn’t like so she could tell him.  “I—I don’t know.  Anything.”

“Anything?”

“It’s you, Elias.  Anything will feel good.”

He started to touch her more as his lips found her neck and clavicle again.  He could feel her back arch and her hips pushing into his as his lips got close to her breasts again.  When he pushed the material down and kissed a path down, he heard her sigh.  “Is that okay?”

“Yes yes yes,” she said quickly and successively, the sensation clearly new to her.

He continued his handiwork expertly, his tongue grazing along her exposed skin.  The mewls she let out almost drove him insane, and he could feel himself getting harder by the second.  He had waited for so long that he wasn’t sure if he was going to last as long as he wanted to and do all the things he wanted to do to her, with her.  He kissed a trail back up to her lips and his hands wandered down to her shorts, unbuttoning them as quickly as he could.  

When he slipped off her shorts, she worked on his.  “Do you have a condom, Elias?” she breathed out.

He did – he was prepared – but he froze momentarily.  “Of course, but—”

“But what?” she asked worriedly.

“No no,” he said, trying to backtrack.  “I’m not—it’s—I want to do so much,” he admitted.  

Svea shook her head.  “I can’t wait.  Please just…just—”

“Svea—”

“Please Elias, I just want you inside me right now,” she practically begged.  “We have all the time in the world to do so much.  I just want to feel you inside me.”

Elias didn’t need to be told twice.  He understood where she was coming from – he knew that, at least for him, he’d been waiting a long time to do this again, and although he wanted to savour the moment, he also didn’t want to waste any time.  So he came back up and rolled over slightly, reaching down into his bag and grabbing a string of condoms.  Svea couldn’t help but smile as she saw all the packages.  He leaned back on his knees and ripped the first one off and ripped it open.  Svea sat up to take it from his hands and help him roll it on.  She even pumped him a few times when she was finished, kissing him fervently.  

Maybe she had the right idea, to just go for it and not wait.  Because if she kept doing that, Elias knew he wasn’t going to last long.  

As she lay back down, Elias slipped off her underwear and loomed over her.  On instinct, one of his hands went to her thighs and she wrapped her legs around him.  His hand travelled from her thigh to her hot centre, and she flinched at his touch.  He couldn’t help but smile down at her at how sensitive she was.  “You okay, pretty girl?”

“I need you, Elias,” she huffed out.

When he entered her she cried out in pleasure.  He kissed her passionately as he pushed further and further in, and when he bottomed out, he made sure to give her time to adjust to his size.  Due to their confessions earlier, he knew it had been a while for her – a while for both of them – so he’d need to adjust too.  He’d almost forgotten how good she felt; how perfectly she fit around him.  It wasn’t like he dreamt about how she felt around him for four years now.  “You alright?” he asked quickly.

“You feel so good, Elias,” she said, her eyes still closed.  

“Does it hurt?” he asked quickly, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hurting her like he had the first time.

She shook her head and finally opened her eyes.  “No.  It feels good.  It feels…it feels right.”

Elias gave her a quick kiss.  He began moving in and out of her slowly, and she began to roll her hips in tune with his movements.  “I love you, Svea,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you too, Elias.”

“When we get back to Vancouver I’m going to make love to you on every inch of our apartment,” he said.  “And then when we get back to my place in Sundsvall, there too.”

“You promise?” she asked, her smile cheeky, the possibility of making love to Elias over and over and over again giving her so much joy.  

“We have to make up for lost time, don’t we?” his smile became equally as cheeky.  “Besides, we need to live out the first-year university year and the Vaxjo year where we did fuck all because we’re so lame.”

The both of them giggled, and Svea remembered back to their first encounter at sixteen, where she thought it was better to laugh with your best friend in bed than to be nervous with somebody else.  She hoped that they’d continue to giggle; that they’d continue to laugh together during their most intimate moments.  She ran her nails up and down his back before digging them into his shoulder blades.  “Make love to me, Elias,” she bit her lip.

Elias did just that, increasing his pace as he moved in and out of her, his small grunts and her small moans filling the room.  After a while, when Svea felt herself getting close, she arched her back and brought Elias’s face down to kiss him.  “Cum with me.”

“You’re close?”

She nodded her head.  “I want you to cum with me, Elias.”

Elias couldn’t hold back.  She felt so good and there was no way he’d be able to last any longer, so he let go completely.  As she made him see stars, he felt her walls tighten around him.  She cried out in pleasure as she came with him, holding on to him tightly so she could feel his body pressed against hers.  She kept her limbs wrapped around him as he collapsed on top of her, trying to catch their breath.  She played with the hair at the nape of his neck as they both calmed down.  

“I love you so much,” he mumbled into her nape of her neck as his breathing finally began to steady.  “You have no idea Svea.”

“I think I do,” she responded softly.  

Elias pulled out and quickly ran to the washroom.  Svea – too hung up on trying to savour the feeling, and too tired to care – stayed in bed and watched him through droopy eyes.  When he came back, he slipped into bed and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.  As they drifted off to sleep, Svea couldn’t help but think that she was the luckiest girl in the world.  Elias, conversely, affirmed his own thoughts that he was the luckiest guy alive.

>< >< >< >< ><

Sunday

When Elias woke the next morning, he was using Svea’s chest as a pillow.  He didn’t remember how they got in that position, and truthfully, he didn’t care to.  All he cared about was the feeling of her skin beneath his touch, how her breathing was slow and steadied, and how one of her hands was conspicuously still at the nape of his neck, like she’d been playing with his hair all night.  Intoxicated by it all, he couldn’t help but graze his lips over her skin lightly, wanting to wake her up as slowly and peacefully as he could.  

His lips grazed and kissed along her collarbone, then moved up to her neck before dipping down again.  He could feel her move slightly, her foot dragging along his leg as she sighed slightly, finally opening her eyes.  “G’morning,” she mumbled, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Good morning, pretty girl,” he mumbled against her skin, craning his head up so he could kiss her on her lips.  

They gave each other long, lazy kisses for a while, until Elias moved down to her neck again, cupping her breast underneath the covers.  Svea moaned softly.  “We’re going straight into this, aren’t we?”

Elias gave her a quick kiss.  “Like I said last night, we have to make up for lost time,” he reasoned.  He’d spend the entire summer making up for lost time if he had to (read: wanted to).

She smiled.  Before she could say anything else, loud footsteps could be heard upstairs.  Elias groaned, because it meant people were up.  And if people were up, it meant they wouldn’t get the privacy he wanted to do what he wanted.  Svea giggled at his groans, which only made him do it louder.  “What the hell are they doing up so early?” he mumbled.

“I don’t think it’s early,” Svea said.  “I think it’s us.”  She looked over to her side to see the time on the alarm radio.  “It’s definitely us.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 9:30.”

Elias grumbled again.  Svea laughed and slipped out from underneath him, not taking her eyes off of him as he nestled back into bed.  “Elias?”

“Svea?”

“I love you.”

He smiled like a schoolboy – like he was a kid again and stole a cookie from the jar.  “I love you too, Svea.”

“You guys awake yet?!” Grace’s voice boomed down on them from the top of the stairs.  She was smart enough not to descend.  “Breakfast is almost ready and Brock won’t save you bacon, Petey!”

They gave each other one last kiss before quickly washing their faces and going upstairs.  Almost everybody was already seated around the table for breakfast, so they took their seats and filled their plates with the passed food.  Elias’s hand grazed Svea’s thighs underneath the table.  Svea tried not to let it show.

“What took you guys so long?” Hallie asked as she bit into a piece of toast.

“We were just talking,” Elias was purposely vague.

“What the fuck do you two even talk about?!  Neither of you talk!” Tanner exclaimed.  “You’re both so quiet!”

Elias smiled.  At any other point in the weekend, he probably would have gotten mad at the comment.  He probably would have gotten defensive or uptight or however he usually got when people told him he was so quiet and needed to talk more; he also would have been protective of Svea, who took those types of comments more personally, and called the other person a gaphals or something equally as Swedish in frustration because when he was frustrated he couldn’t find the English words for things as easily.  

But this time, things were different.  None of that mattered anymore.  Anybody could say whatever they wanted, make whatever observations they wanted about the two of them as people, but all that mattered, whether the outside world cared or not, was that he and Svea loved each other.  Simple as that.  It was corny, and it was cliched, but Elias didn’t care.

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Final Fantasy XV Review

Year: 2016

Original Platform: PlayStation 4

Also available on: PC (Steam), XBox One

Version I Played: PlayStation 4

Here we go. The final Final Fantasy review of the main single-player games. I just want to say, first off, we’ve been waiting for this game since 2006. It took them ten damn years to finally release this game. I clearly remember the teaser trailer they released when it was called Final Fantasy XIII Versus, and my next-door neighbor and I were so hyped for this game when we were freaking teenagers. After years of delays, Square Enix revamped it into Final Fantasy XV.

Did it live up to the wait? Well, read and find out.

Synopsis:

Noctis Lucis Caelum is the heir to the throne of the kingdom of Lucis. On his birthday, he sets off with his three best friends and bodyguards (Ignis, Prompto, Gladio) to marry his betrothed, Lunafreya. The marriage is supposed to be a political one, though Noct and Lunafreya had grown up together and become fond of each other. But peace turns to war as the empire of Niflheim betrays Insomnia and invades. Noct, now on the run, has to reclaim his right to the throne by collecting the necessary family heirlooms which will banish the darkness.  

Gameplay:

Open-world Final Fantasy.

That is the big selling point for this game. 

A MASSIVE step up from Final Fantasy XIII’s gameplay, Final Fantasy XV has you roaming around and attacking enemies on the field in real time. The battle system returns to something slightly more conventional by having you cast spells and use items. It seems like this is what Square really intended to do after Final Fantasy XII. Looking back, Final Fantasy XIII feels like some prototype before Final Fantasy XII, so it really becomes apparent that Final Fantasy XIII’s gameplay comes off as a huge mistake.

This game’s major’s strength comes from the player engaging with a massive world. You camp. You take on hunts. You take on a bajillion sidequests. You run across the world. You drive across the world. You can ride a chocobo across the world.

However, the dip in the gameplay comes from how easily accessible these sidequests are. The map tells you exactly where you go 24/7. I started to have an existential crisis around my 50th sidequest in a row. Why am I doing this? What’s the point? I go here to kill a thing, or go there to help someone by giving a potion or taking a picture. You start to realize that a good bulk of sidequests are either hunting daemons or fetching an item. You start to deconstruct the meaning of playing a video game as you think to yourself, “Why do I play video games?” while also thinking “But wait, one more and then I swear I’m done.”.

I get it, not everyone has the time nowadays to figure out a huge game like this. I get it, video games are now marketed to everyone for ease. At the same time, I personally love a good challenge. I mean, I’m the guy who has Dark Souls as one of his favorite video games of all time, so my opinion on the matter might definitely be skewered compared to most. I generally want to feel like I actually figured something out by myself rather than following a tracker on the screen and walking from task to task and then saying, “Okay done. Next.”.

Too much of that and playing a video game starts to feel like a 9 to 5 job to me. This game is great to play during quarantine, but at one point I saw playing this game as feeling like an actual job. Wake up, eat breakfast, time to hunt some daemons.

This is the growing conflict some people have with story-driven games versus open-world games. I see the argument focused too much on words like “linear”, but in reality we should be talking about “automation”. If a video game is too automated, then did you really play a video game? Or did you watch a movie that allows you to control the camera angle? At first, the idea of driving around an open-world Final Fantasy game sounds amazing. Isn’t that what fans always dreamed of? In reality, you don’t really drive around at your leisure. Even when you have the car set to “manual”, you can’t speed up, drive off-road, or pull off a sick drift like in The Fast and the Furious. Your car still automatically stays on the road wherever you’re going. It’s not so much “manual” as it is “I can control where and when to stop and which road to take”. Riding chocobos at your leisure is much more fun, but becomes increasingly impractical as you can just fast-travel to necessary locations in your car.

The sights and sounds of the fictional world of Eos are enough to gloss over these shortcomings though. It IS still fun to roam around and fight monsters and save the day. My bottom line is, “You don’t think about just how mindless the tasks are unless you keep playing for many days straight.”. And I poured hours into this game day after day because of the 2020 pandemic quarantine.

Graphics:

Obviously the best thus far. However, in-game facial expressions on the NPCs are still quite stilted and awkward. This game made me realize that we’ve yet to jump a hurdle when it comes to in-game graphics. The game is so polished but there are still limitations when it comes to giving the characters natural movements, both in body and lips. So an NPC could be shouting “WOW THAT’S AMAZING!” but have a straight face jumping up and down, despite the fact that the character model is the most realistic we’ve created so far in a video game. I was looking back at in-game cutscenes of Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, and found it ironic that they can portray body movements so much better, but that’s the trade-off. Less graphics power to portray realistic bodies, but the graphics power can then be allocated to focus on natural movements. Nowadays, all the graphics power is focused on making things look good, but that hardly leaves room for making things move naturally.

Story:

After the overly-complicated plotline of Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XV feels like a breath of fresh air. On the surface, it’s a straightforward tale of a boy seeking to become a king after his father is brutally murdered by enemy forces. The bromance between the young king and his bodyguards is endearing. Each character feels distinct and genuinely makes you laugh. The setup sounds like prime real estate for an emotionally charged storyline.

Unfortunately, it falls apart somewhere around the last quarter. What should have been a strong and straightforward story turned into a rushed, hasty mess by the final act.

The story started SO strong, they practically had it in the bag, but then it became apparent that many important elements were glossed over - especially when it came to the main villain. I realized that some things required me to read between the lines, or even were only explained in character dossiers in the archive section of the menu. Supposedly, the movie Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV explains more, but do you really expect me to have to watch a separate movie to understand the actual game? The final quarter of the story feels like someone was trying to finish NaNoWriMo, realized they were running out of time, and quickly jumped from scene to scene to reach that 50k word goal. The ten-year time-skip is a joke. The final chapter is sorely disappointing.

The ending was appropriate though, and even beautiful. However, the overall story didn’t have the necessary emotional weight to really make me feel anything. I thought to myself, “I feel like I should be tearing up but instead I feel nothing.”. Even Final Fantasy XII, which lacked a romance, had me swelling up at the end. Final Fantasy XV didn’t make me swell up until literally the last few seconds of the post-credits scene.

People complained about the advertising (Coleman, Cup Noodles) but that didn’t bother me.

What does bother me is the lack of variety in the main cast, and in numerous ways. There were so many interesting side characters that didn’t receive much screen time, or use at all in the story. The strong focus on only the four male leads made it a sausagefest. I was craving more out of Aranea Highwind and Iris Amicitia. They are important but don’t get any screen time at all in the final chapter, nor do we ever hear from them ever again after the time-skip. Aranea Highwind was such a cool character, but once again ends up being wasted potential.

The main cast lacked distinctive styles. When I first saw the main cast, I had a hard time telling them apart. They looked like a k-pop band. Compare the main cast of Final Fantasy XV to literally any other Final Fantasy main cast and you can immediately spot the difference.

The four main leads do have distinct personalities, and I quite loved hearing their comments and banter. It felt realistic, but at times it became ridiculous. I rolled my eyes when Prompto would say things like, “Hashtag sorry not sorry.” That was a bit too on the nose, and came off as Square trying to pander to the current generation.

But what really rubbed me the wrong way is the incredible lack of non-white characters in the entire game. Lestallum feels so wrong to me as a Hispanic. Lestallum is supposed to be modeled after Havana, Cuba.

Its music, its buildings, its activities. It has a tropical climate, and yet every single denizen is pale white. Every. Single. One. I am not exaggerating. It feels so absolutely wrong walking around that city and not seeing anyone with the slightest shade of brown. This isn’t some uncalled-for SJW rant, it’s a simple fact. Tropical climates breed tanner skins. My brain naturally did a double-take when seeing the all-white population, saying, “Hmmm, something’s wrong here.”. For God’s sake, Final Fantasy XII, made over a decade earlier, did a better job at displaying the various nuances in skin tones, and that was on the PlayStation 2! Final Fantasy X, even older, seemed to properly portray tropical beach populations, inspired by the Philippines, with the character Wakka.

I noticed that they really took the time to incorporate elements from virtually every single Final Fantasy game. Aside from the crystals, the modern settings, and other obvious elements, four male leads are reminiscent of Final Fantasy III, the sinister chancellor hearkens back to Kefka from Final Fantasy VI, the enemy Yojimbo resembles Final Fantasy X’s version of Yojimbo, a certain boss battle reminded me of Cid Raines from Final Fantasy XIII.

Also, there’s Dino. Quite possibly the most annoying Final Fantasy NPC ever.

The overly obnoxious Italian stereotype made me want to punch his face, and also took me out of the experience of the fictional world. Every time you spoke with him he's all like "HEY HOW YOU DOIN WELCOME TO OLIVE GARDEN YOU TALKIN TO ME BADA BING BADA BOOM SPICY PIECE OF MEATBALL CAPISCE? AMIRITE??"

Square seemed to treat this game as a milestone in the series, alluding to everything the series ever did. It’s a shame that the story itself wasn’t quite up to snuff to be held in such regard.

Music:           

The game’s major lyrical song is copyrighted, which is a first for a Final Fantasy game. It makes sense why they chose the song “Stand by Me”, both in literal and figurative terms of the story.             

The score to this game is quite fantastic. The series has its first female composer, Yoko Shimomura. I have absolutely no complaints about the music. Nobuo Uematsu didn’t even pop into my head during the entire game. It’s the first time since Uematsu’s departure that I felt immersed in the score. The motifs are distinct and strong. The battle music is vibrant and an orchestral orgasm to listen to.    

Notable Theme:            

“Somnus”  

The main theme of the game. It plays right away in the main menu. I love how it is incorporated into the rest of the score, and my brain kept wanting to hear it to its completion.   

Direct Sequel?           

Nope. However, there is downloadable content that fills in the gap of events within the game. Supposedly, Final Fantasy XV is loosely connected to Final Fantasy XIII and Final Fantasy Type-O, all sharing common themes and possibly set in the same universe. You can also watch the prequel movie, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV.

Did it Live up to the Hype?           

Eh.           

Yes, and no.            

It was cool to play around, but the rest is a flaccid attempt at being a notable entry in the series “for fans and first-timers”, as the words proudly display every time you load the game. It’s not the worst in the series, but certainly not the best. It’s somewhere in the mid-to-low tier.

[heathenclung]

apple blossom :   how does your muse go about expressing or not expressing their sexuality ?

grey - he’s kinda restrained about it, honestly?? like he isn’t the type to be going out on the weekend looking for hookups, so his sexuality only really comes into play when he’s pursuing a relationship or in a relationship bc then he feels comfortable enough to express it

lyle - through his job, to a degree. i mean, mans dances around in sparkly booty shorts for a living, so he does sort of exude sexuality. naturally he’s not quite as outgoing as his vibes would suggest, so he’s more of a follower than a leader when it comes to initiating anything sexual w someone; he simply doesn’t want to get his hopes up for anything and then have someone turn around and say that they only wanted him for sex, u feel?

mikey - he’s never been terribly open about being bi??? like, growing up it just wasn’t really a thing he ever thought about or allowed himself to accept about himself. he had a girlfriend, and that was all he really cared about. he only rarely actively pursues people in relationships, and even then, he’s more active about it if he’s trying to woo a woman than a man.

tanner - tanner woke up one day and said ‘i’m hot as hell so i’m gonna fuck anything that moves and everyone’s just gonna have to deal with that’ so, uh... good luck avoiding knowing everything about the man’s sex life

@flawedhearts​ said: Apple Blossom, Carnation, Ivy // Greyson, Lyle, Mikey + Tanner |  meme (accepting)

carnation :   what is your muse’s relationship with their gender ?   how do they express or not express this relationship ?

grey - he’s not one of the ‘i’m a man and therefore i can’t enjoy femininity or androgyny’ types, but he knows he’s always going to carry around a bit of ‘do i pass when i act like this/wear this/etc.’ he doesn’t project that onto others, of course, bc he loves the fuck out of the lgbtq+ community and would use his existence as a White Man(tm) to stand up to people who thought they could start shit w his ‘family’

lyle - gender was never really a thing that lyle put much thought into. he keeps to himself enough that he has no issue expressing himself in whatever way he pleases, but he’s also very, very acutely aware that any deviation from ‘generic white twink’ in his expression is liable to draw attention to himself, so it’s not really something he ever explores outside of work

mikey - it’s the toxic masculinity, innit. he’s definitely got a lot of internalized issues re: his manhood thanks to his upbringing and the career path he took. for the most part he’s pretty stoic and tries to play the ‘brave soldier man’ role in life, but again, gender isn’t really something that mikey puts much thought into

tanner - since coming out and transitioning there’s definitely been a change in how tanner treats his gender and its expression; he was never really all that feminine, and that hasn’t really changed. it’s opened up a comfort in expressing his sexuality, though, and he embraces that with open arms, even if it makes him an irritating fuckboy

ivy : what are your muse’s views on marriage ?   do they believe it is something strictly for love ,   or an institution rooted in business   &   social benefits ?   do they desire or have they desired to be married ?

grey - safe to say that grey doesn’t really care about marriage. there’s definitely a part of him that would be absolutely thrilled that someone wanted to marry him and call themselves his partner ‘til death do them part, but he doesn’t view it as the pinnacle of love, or anything like that. much like valentine’s day, he thinks it’s just a bit too commercialized and a bit too much of a heterosexual institution to be worth anything as a ceremony alone

lyle - it’s a big fat no from lyle. commitment is bad enough for him without there being a signed document and rings and being one under god, and all that sort of thing. the idea of marriage makes him anxious, and he doesn’t hold any more respect for a couple that is married than he would a couple who were simply together without the ‘eternal bond’. at best, it’s a meaningless ceremony; at worst, it’s the thing he’s most scared of in life.

mikey - there’s a bit of traditionalism in mikey that would love to be married. a church, a minister, a big old ceremony. there’s another part of him that doesn’t think he could ever get married, that the idea of dedicating himself to another person seems wrong when a piece of his heart still belongs to his late gf. add in the fact that his family is a bit...... fractured, and he doesn’t hold out much hope in ever having a wedding himself

tanner - the idea of marriage honestly hasn’t ever crossed tanner’s mind. he’s still young and he’s still playing the field, so the prospect of standing at the altar seems so far in the future that, at best, the concept only features as a joke between himself and his friends

[psychovigilantewrites]

I Need You

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Reader Genre: Smut Summary: The moment you fell in love with him was when he smiled at you as Robin. But now that Bruce adopted you, Dick has become your older adoptive brother who sometimes sleeps with you in the same bed. What will you do when your lust overpowers you, and you start to touch yourself while he’s right there, sleeping?

You didn’t have a tragic backstory.

There were no hungry nights, or abusive parents.

There were no parents, full stop. You never knew them. And you were really okay with that. Life happens. You didn’t blame them for anything, except maybe not considering birth control.

You were just an orphan, living in an orphanage, and doing orphan things like sneak out at night for little “adventures” as you liked to call it. The orphanage wasn’t bad either. The people who ran it were nice people, although perhaps just a little boring.

Which is why you liked to walk around at night. You didn’t have game consoles and the books inside the mini library you had read time and time again.

So there you were at 14, just wandering around Gotham at night, giggling at men trying to pick up prostitutes in cars, and avoiding the drunken homeless who liked to get a little aggressive when asking for spare change.

When you walked around, you felt like a different person. Your imagination was what kept you entertained, and honestly, optimistic about the world.

You could pretend to be whoever you wanted to be. That night, you were a secret Russian spy, walking by the blocks of loud club music and neon lights, trying to identify the man who was working with the Americans, planning to kill the Russian president.

You stood outside the club from across the street, waiting for someone to come out. Someone who would look like a traitor to the Motherland.

And there you found your culprit, a man in his mid-30s, with blond hair slicked back, a white shirt that plunged down to reveal his hairy chest, and a pair of sunglasses- at night. You thought he looked villainy enough.

Fueling your imagination, you followed the man from the club. He walked a couple of blocks down, and then turned inside an alley. Smiling to yourself at the excitement you felt, you crossed the road and followed him into the darkness.

You pouted.

You had lost him. The alley was empty except for a pair of cats hissing at each other in front of a metal trash can. Sighing to yourself, you decided to give up on your little fantasy and head back to the orphanage before anyone noticed you were missing.

“Why are you following me?” you heard the sudden threatening voice first before you felt a hand grab your arm tightly, spinning you around and pushing you up against the alley wall.

Your eyes widen and started pooling with tears when you saw the same man in front of you, holding your neck now with a hand, and the other, a gun pointed at your face.

“I’ll ask you again, bitch,” he spat, “Why are you following me? Who paid you? Tell me!”

You yelped out loud when he slammed your head against the wall.

“No- no one!” you sobbed, “I’m sorry! I was just bored!”

“The truth, before I shoot you in the knee!” he growled.

“I swear!” you cried, “Please, I swear. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Stupid. You were stupid. Curse your boredom, and curse your imagination. Who were you kidding? You weren’t a Russian spy, nor were you an undercover celebrity, or an investigative journalist. You were just a bored girl with no parents.

“I will shoot your cunt off,” he roared, “And then I’ll fuck whatever’s left of-”

The sound of sudden wind interrupted him mid-sentence. The pressure on your neck disappeared, and so was the man in front of you.

Instead, he was four feet in front of you, on the ground, face bloodied and unconscious. Over him was a tall, dark shadow.

You whimpered in fear, and backed into the wall, praying for it to swallow you up. You slumped to the ground, cowering up at the shape.

“Are you hurt?” a gravelly voice said, coming from the dark shadow.

You didn’t dare answer.

“B!” a chirpy young voice suddenly appeared from above you. A blur of red and green dropped from the sky and landed in front of the shadow.

“Why didn’t you wait for me, B?” the boy you knew was called Robin panted. That’s right. Robin. Then the tall, dark, shadow must be-

“Earth to Batman?” you saw the back of his head cock to the side. He turned around and finally saw you. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t see you there! Are you okay?”

Robin walked over to you. He was taller than you, and muscular. He looked more like a man than Boy Wonder. To you that is.

“I’m Robin, and this is Batman. You’re safe now, okay?” he gave you a warm smile that made your stomach tighten. Even through the white lenses of his mask, you could tell that he was being genuine. He offered you a hand to help you up.

“O-okay,” you gulped, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you up with strength you did not expect. You were standing closer to him now, and you realised that he couldn’t have been much older than you.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

You told him.

“Hey, I’ve seen you before haven’t I?” he queried.

“Robin,” Batman suddenly said in a cautionary voice, stepping forward. You finally saw him properly. Indeed, he looked exactly like the blurred photos in the news.

“No, no,” Robin shook his head, “We’ve seen her before. Around.”

Batman took a look at you.

“Yeah, I’ve definitely seen you. You’re usually alone, though,” Robin said again.

“I like to walk around,” you answered sheepishly.

“At night?” Batman disproved, “Where do you live?”

“At the orphanage on Murphy Street,” you told him.

Silence.

“Why were you following that man?” Batman broke the silence.

“Well,” you started blushing, embarrassed, “It’s stupid. I was just bored.”

“You like to follow people when you’re bored?” Robin chuckled.

“It’s not like that!” you huffed defensively. Even though it was kind of like that.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make fun of you,” Robin apologized.

“It’s okay,” you shuffled your feet, “I should get going before they find out I sneaked out again.”

“Okay,” Robin nodded, “Stay safe.”

“Th-thank you,” you looked at him, and then at Batman, “For saving me earlier, too.”

Batman gave you a quick nod, and you hurried back to the orphanage, unaware of the two jumping from roof to roof behind you, making sure you got back okay.

Bruce Wayne waltzed into your orphanage two days after that, with the proper paperwork to officially adopt you.

It was revealed to you after the first 6 months of living with Bruce Wayne and his adopted son Dick Grayson that they were Batman and Robin, the very same ones who saved you that night. You didn’t believe it at first, but they showed you to the Cave behind the old clock, and you couldn’t deny it anymore.

Fast forward 4 years later, you were now a Wayne, with an adoptive older brother and an adoptive younger brother. Bruce adopted Jason Todd two years after you, and he became Robin while Dick had moved on to being Nightwing. You weren’t interested in the vigilante life, despite your previous fantasies that you were one.

You were very happy where you were, as a normal girl in a not-so-normal household.

The four years you spent with Dick, you got close to him. He was still warm and chirpy outside as the day you met him, yet you knew that he had changed drastically inside. He aged- not in the physical sense. There was just a look in his eye that said he had gone through a lot.

Yet despite how busy he was as Nightwing, he always spent a lot of time with you. You were his dear little sister after all. He made you feel safe, as he had all those years ago when Batman had saved you.

You would watch movies together, fall asleep together, cuddle together in front of the fire during winter, and spent the summer splashing around in the pool outside.

Your relationship with the younger Robin was good too. You loved him dearly, and tried to be a good older sister to him, constantly giving him advice and being a listening ear if he ever needed one.

You were lucky.

You didn’t have a tragic backstory.

The only tragedy that you faced was the developing feelings for your older adoptive brother.

You probably fell in love with his smile the first time you met him. The smile that warmed you up and calmed you down. When Bruce took you in and introduced you to Dick Grayson, your breath hitched when you stared into his beautiful, perfect face and bright blue eyes.

And then your already wild imagination went ahead and got dirtier the more time you spent with him.

Summer was your favorite time of the year, because Dick Grayson during summer was a sight to behold.

The first reason was his skin. His skin got a bit tan during the summer due to the sun- and the fact that he liked to workout shirtless. He jogged shirtless, he swam shirtless, he helped Alfred mow the lawn shirtless. And so, the darker warm shade of his skin accentuated the contours of his muscles. At his face, his tanner skin made his blue eyes looked even more striking due to the contrast.

The second was due to the heat. The heat, on top of making him take off his shirt more, also made him sweat. His already tan, already magnificent body would glisten in the light from his sweat that made you feel like licking something. The sweat also made his musk stronger. It wasn’t body odour, but it was his smell. He smelt like citrus and candy lemon drops and for some reason, a scent that reminded you of rain. The heat also made him jump into the pool more with you, and you were able to appreciate him even more.

The third was his hair. Summer usually left you with greasy hair because of the excess sweat, but for some reason, Dick Fucking Grayson’s wavy hair was more alive and bouncy in the summer. It made you want to run your fingers in and pull and tug.

His hair was currently wet, though. Slicked to the back and dripping droplets of water down his defined cheekbones, you subconsciously licked your lips at the obscene way his mouth was slightly parted, panting as he finished his lap.

He looked at you from the pool and grinned widely, waving at you. You had just walked out to the pool to tell him something.

“Hey, sis!” he greeted. You hated when he called you that.

“Hey,” you walked over to the edge of the pool where he was and squatted down to his eye level, “Wanna watch a movie tonight? They just added this new horror movie on Netflix.”

You saw him frown and bite his lower lip, running a hand through his wet hair. It was the look he made when he was thinking of something, or deciding.

“Unless you have Nightwing duties,” you hurriedly added, forgetting that the rest of your family had their nights usually occupied.

“No, no,” he shook his head and smiled at you, “I can take a night off.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, “I don’t wanna hold you back from your responsibilities, or anything.”

“Not at all, sweetheart,” he assured you, “I like to watch movies with you. It’s a Friday night after all. I don’t want to leave you alone on your favorite night of the week.”

There it was. You loved it when he called you that.

“Okay!” you made a star jump from where you were, giggling in excitement, “Let’s watch it after dinner. We can make some popcorn, too.”

“Sounds great, sis!” he grinned at you. You forced your smile to stay where it was until he dived back underwater to continue his laps.

Your heart ached whenever he called you that.

You stared at him longingly as he did his butterfly, his back muscles flexing in the sun.

As much as you wanted him to think otherwise, he still saw you as his little sister, and nothing you could do can change that.

Not the short skirts and low tops, not by being touchy and clingy, and certainly not by wishing.

*** You heard Dick’s soft snores in your ear.

You couldn’t sleep, your heart was beating too fast.

After the movie, the two of you fell asleep on your bed, legs tangled, heads on the same pillow. You were facing him. You saw the outline of his face barely illuminated by the moonlight outside. You smiled.

His sleeping face was adorable.

He frowned slightly as he slept. It wasn’t because he was having a nightmare, it was just how he was. His lips were in a slight pout, his lower jutting out slightly.

You gulped.

You always imagined his lips on yours, and how soft they must feel.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

You always slept together like this, and some nights were harder than most. Most of the time, you could sleep soundly, even if he was spooning you from behind. You felt comfortable, and warm, and safe with him engulfing you into his heat.

Some of the nights, though, your brain went on hyperdrive, and you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. Your imagination was running wild.

You imagined those lips on your flushed skin, or around your nipples, suckling, or kissing your sweet spot between your legs.

Your pussy was aching.

You opened your eyes to look at him, making sure that he was completely asleep. You then let your hand travel down your body and slip underneath the band of your shorts and panties, to between your folds.

You were surprised at how wet you already were. You didn’t expect to be dry, but you didn’t expect to be dripping either.

Your eyes were set on his lips as you rubbed your clit, sparking pleasure throughout your body. You wanted to close the distance and press your lips against his so bad, but your willpower was strong enough to resist.

You stopped rubbing, but slowly inserted your middle finger inside your entrance.

“Mmm,” you moaned before you could stop yourself. You paused in panic, and looked at Dick’s eyes, to see if they were open.

Thankfully, he was still fast asleep, his frown still evidently present.

You continued to take the risk and pump in another finger.

“Fuck,” you hissed. You were being reckless at this point, really. You knew that you found it hard to keep quiet when pleasuring yourself, yet here you were masturbating right in front of your adoptive brother.

You thanked whatever higher being there was that Dick was a heavy sleeper and miraculously have not woken up yet despite your heavy breaths, occasional moans, and squirming.

You felt your juices leak even more at the prospect of getting caught by him.

It was stupid, beyond insane, but somehow you were even more aroused that you were fucking yourself in front of him while he slept.

Your thoughts were hazy, a fire was pooling slowly at your core, and you knew you were going to come soon.

You sped your fingers up, closing your eyes.

“Ah, Dick,” you groaned softly, chasing your high, “I need you.”

But suddenly, you felt a hand around your moving wrist that forced your eyes open and made you jump.

“What,” Dick was looking at you intensely, his eyes hooded from sleep, “Are you doing?”

“Dick,” you breathed in panic, “Not- nothing. I was scratching my leg.”

“It didn’t sound like you were scratching your leg,” he said in a low voice.

Fuck.

“I was,” you lied desperately, “Sorry for waking you up. Go back to sleep.”

You hurriedly turned your back towards him, your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest.

“Hmm,” you heard him sigh behind you. He snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

“How do you expect me to fall asleep now, sweetheart,” he muttered, hand suddenly gripping your hip so tight that it almost hurt.

You gasped when you felt something hard poking your ass. You heard him groan in frustration.

“This isn’t fair,” he choked, grinding his hard on into you once more, “This isn’t fucking fair.”

You’ve never heard him like this before. You’ve heard him mad, frustrated, tired. But not this. This was different.

“What isn’t?” you dared to ask.

You felt him still, a tired sigh, and then-

“Nothing,” he released you and then turned his back towards you too, “Go back to bed, sis.”

You remained quiet.

It took you almost the whole night to finally drift back to sleep.

***

You blinked yourself awake and immediately cringed at the light that poured through your pulled curtains. The warmth you felt behind you last night was absent, which meant Dick must have woken up earlier and intentionally pulled back the curtains for you. You groaned in your pillow at the reminded of what happened last night.

You got ready for the day and went down for breakfast, which you had in the kitchen on the island that Bruce made into a sort of breakfast bar.

When you were close to finishing, you heard the main door open and close, and in came Dick Grayson shirtless, sweaty, and panting right after his morning jog.

You made a point to ignore him and looked at your phone while gobbling up your scrambled eggs.

“Good morning, sis!” he chirped, pouring himself a glass of cold orange juice from the fridge, as if whatever happened last night didn’t happen.

“Mornin’,” you mumbled back with your mouth full.

“What’re you up to today?” he asked, pulling up a chair next to you. You tried to reel in your nerves. There was no reason to be jittery. If he was going to act like nothing happened, then you’ll gladly follow his lead.

“Nothing much,” you shrugged, “Work out a bit. Read a bit. Watch some TV?”

“Don’t you have friends to go out with or something?” he jested.

“Hey, I like staying home and lazing around,” you defended, finally turning away from your phone to look at him.

An action you regretted instantly.

He was looking at you with a slight smirk on his lips- which was glistening with orange juice. His hair was damp, some curls sticking to his sweaty forehead that made him look more boyish than usual.

The warm light that entered through the windows added on to his overall glow. He was like a bubbling ray of sunshine that made your breath hitch.

You tried hard to maintain eye contact, pretending to give him a slight glare by narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oh, really?” he teased, “And here I thought it’s because you don’t have any friends to go out with.”

“I do,” you huffed, “They invite me out sometimes. I choose to stay home.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart. But it’s okay if you don’t. I’m here. I’ll be your friend,” he grinned, adding a flirty wink.

Wait, a flirty wink?

You rolled your eyes at him and went back to your phone.

No, Dick is naturally flirty, you convinced yourself. He doesn’t realise it, but he’s like that to everyone.

“Anyway, I think I’ll be down in the Cave for a bit,” he told you, “If you need anything, just text me.”

“And what would I need from you, Dick Grayson?” you raised an eyebrow condescendingly at him.

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze had changed to that of an intense stare, his jaw clenching and unclenching. And then-

“If you need someone to lift anything, or open jars, or do anything manly,” he suddenly changed into his usual cheerful self, even flexing and kissing his biceps for exaggeration, “These guns will help you out.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Whatever, Dick,” you shook your head at his idiocy and went back to your breakfast.

You did exactly what you said you would. You worked out, you read, and now you were lounging on the sofa in the living room watching TV. It was already in the late evening at the time Dick came and joined you.

He sat next to you, further away than usual.

After about ten minutes, he said, “Why are you so far away? Come here.”

“You’re the one who sat down far away,” you muttered to yourself, yet cuddled up next to him anyway.

You rested your head on his chest and leaned into him, as usual.

Another ten minutes passed by.

“We should talk about last night,” he suddenly brought up.

You tensed.

“What about last night?” you cautiously replied.

“You know,” he simply said.

You pulled away from him to look at him directly, showing him your fake confused face.

“I don’t?” you lied.

He sighed in frustration.

“You can’t lie to me, you know that right?” he told you, “I’m trained to detect lies, remember?”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” you denied. Deny, deny, deny. You didn’t care if it was obvious or not. You needed to keep denying.

“Okay, how about I start over then,” he gave you the same intense stare as before, “We should talk about how I caught you touching yourself.”

Your brain short circuited. You hadn’t expected him to be so blunt and straightforward about it. But you needed to respond before he realises that he hit the mark.

You burst out into laughter.

“Is that what you thought I was doing?” you chortled, “Holy shit!”

He narrowed his eyes at you.

“What?” you continued to force yourself to laugh, “It’s funny! I told you that I was scratching.”

“Do you usually moan my name when you scratch yourself?” he snickered.

You almost dropped your smile the way your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Dick,” you smirked, “What dreams did you have last night? Are you sure you were even fully awake?”

“I’m pretty sure I can differentiate reality and my dreams, sweetheart,” he assured, “But you know what? Forget it. I shouldn’t have brought it up anyway.”

He grabbed your head with his hand and pushed your head to his chest like you were before.

“There’s nothing to even bring up Dick,” you bit your lip in worry now that he wasn’t looking at you, “You’re delusional.”

“Don’t push it,” he quipped.

You couldn’t help but chuckle.

***

The next time Dick ended up in your bed was 2 weeks later.

It was again, after a movie. The two of you fell asleep after under the covers, just like usual.

Dick had been acting normally, and in turn you did as well. It was as if that night had never happened. So, you could drift to sleep easily, despite him being there.

But something woke you up that night.

Your mind was still cloudy from sleep, and you weren’t sure whether you were dreaming or not. Now, you couldn’t tell if it was the slight movement of the bed that woke you up, or if it was the sounds you thought Dick was making.

Your back was facing him, so you couldn’t see him even if the moon shone a little bit brighter that night. But the bed was shaking very slightly, as if someone was absentmindedly jiggling their foot while lying down.

You frowned in the dark. Dick never really had the whole restless leg syndrome. You jiggled your knee while sitting down way more than he did.

But then you heard his soft sighs and moans. And then the haze in your mind cleared up completely, like a rush of cold water that woke you up, and you knew exactly what he was doing.

“Fuck,” you heard him whisper in a desperate tone you’ve never heard before.

Your heart was racing, thumping against your chest as if it was going to burst. You couldn’t believe what he was doing. He was doing the same thing you were two weeks ago.

You strained your ears even more.

You heard it now, the slick, wet sound of what you assumed was him jerking off his cock. You bit your lip. You wanted so much to see it.

Wait a second, a thought occurred to you. It wasn’t fair that he caught you and then acted all smug about it. No, you wanted to get him back as well.

You hurriedly thought hard about a smart thing to say that would leave him just as embarrassed as he made you.

“You know that I can hear you, Dick,” you finally voiced out, internally smacking your head for such a boring opening line.

You felt Dick still behind you.

“How long have you been listening?” he rasped.

“About a minute,” you gulped nervously.

A beat. And then-

“Shit,” he groaned, “That’s hot.”

He continued his movements.

Your eyes were opened wide, your mouth gaping at the shock of how easy he took it. That fucker even continued masturbating.

You’ve never witnessed this side of him before- ever. You didn’t even know he had this side. You thought he was just sunshines and rainbows, the warm older brother who incorrectly thought you were this innocent little girl he sworn to protect.

“Surprised?” he chuckled, “I wouldn’t be doing this if you hadn’t in the first place.”

You made a move to turn around to face him.

“What are you- no, no, don’t,” Dick panicked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eyes up here,” you replied, now facing him.

He was lying on his back. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness and you could faintly see the outline of his face, his mouth slightly parted, panting. You were lying on his left side.

You saw a movement on his right, and then you heard the wet sounds again. Another sigh from Dick.

“You’re shameless,” you told him, “I wanted to embarrass you the same way you embarrassed me.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he stated, “Masturbating is healthy.”

“Masturbating in front of your adoptive sibling is healthy?” you chuckled.

“Only if the feeling’s mutual,” he gave what you thought was a smirk. It was hard to read his face in the dark.

“Fuck,” he swore again, and then a little calmer added, “But you’re right. I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Then why aren’t you stopping?” you whispered.

“Because,” he paused, “Because it’s especially fucking hard to stop now that you’re watching.”

“Craving the centre of attention, just like always,” you teased.

You were surprisingly keeping it cool despite feeling wetness gush between your legs. If Dick can do it, why can’t you?

You brought a hand down under your waistband.

“No,” he suddenly protested, “You can’t do it with me.”

“Why not?” you moaned when you rubbed between your folds. You’ve never been that wet before.

“It’s wrong,” he choked.

“Oh, now it’s wrong?” you scoffed, “Fuck off, Dick. I’m going to touch myself with you.”

“Fuck,” he gasped, “Don’t say it like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you sound sexy,” he breathed hard, hand pumping harder.

“Mmm,” you hummed, feeling yourself getting slicker and slicker as you circled your sensitive nub.

You watched him intensely with hooded eyes. He was frowning as if he was deep in thought, and was now biting his lower lip.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart,” he groaned again, “You’re going to make me come.”

“Isn’t that- fuck- isn’t that the point?” you retorted, breath hitching.

He sped up even faster, and pumping even harder now that he didn’t need to hide it from you. You wanted so much to glance down, but you promised that you wouldn’t look. He was panting as if he was sprinting now.

You copied his actions, spreading your legs further apart to rub yourself. You felt the familiar heat pool at your lower stomach, the tingling in your toes.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he whined.

“Me too,” you echoed.

“Don’t come with me,” he urged, “Please, don’t come with me.”

“I’m going to come, Dick,” you huffed, “I’m going to come with you.”

“No,” he protested, “Shit! I’m- fuck. Fuck.”

You felt his pumps became more erratic and messy, and he was moaning and groaning- as were you. The heat from your centre burst into waves of fire, feeling you clench and unclench your pussy.

You watched as Dick came. His eyes were shut tight, his eyebrows furrowed, and his sound, god.

He didn’t come with a groan or a moan. He came in whimpers and whines. It sounded vulnerable, and desperate, and needy.

And then the two of you were panting in the darkness, wrapping your head around what had just happened.

You felt the bed shift, and saw Dick take off his shirt to wipe what you assumed was his cum from his stomach. You wanted to steal a look at his cock, but he had already pulled his sweatpants up. He threw the shirt to the floor and got beneath the blankets again with you.

Silence.

He sighed, and then pulled you closer to him. You rested your head on his chest and he slung an arm around your waist.

“I’m disgusting,” he whispered sadly.

“Then so am I,” you replied.

“It’s just- I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself,” he confessed, “When I heard you that night, moaning my name. Fuck. It wasn’t fair.”

Now you knew what tone of voice he used when he said that. It was him holding back, repressing himself.

“I don’t understand what you mean by it’s not fair,” you stated.

“It’s not fair that you can just- just go around looking like you do,” he elaborated, “Walking around with almost nothing on, squatting in front of me in your skirt while I’m in the pool, fucking masturbate next to me while I slept. It’s not fair that you can affect me so much, and I can’t do anything about it.”

You were so shocked by his confession that you couldn’t even think of retorting him by saying that he did the same.

“And then I’m in the same bed as you again,” he continued, “And you’re just there in your shorts and your tank top, and all I can think about is how you sound when you moaned my name. How long have you been touching yourself to me?”

“Uhm,” you hesitated, blushing slightly to yourself at the embarrassment, “Maybe one or two years.”

“Fuck,” he swore, “And I thought you were so fucking innocent. I felt bad for having dirty thoughts of you.

“Far from it,” you giggled.

He sighed again.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with this, Dick,” you tried to assure him, “We’ve only met 4 years ago. There’s nothing relating us to each other except documents. You don’t even have the Wayne name.”

“Still,” he weakly argued back, “I’m still as much your brother as Jason is mine.”

“But you don’t see me as a sister,” you debated.

“No, I don’t. Just- just go to bed okay? I love you,” he kissed you on your forehead.

“Love you too, Dick.”

And so, it started. Whenever Dick slept in your room, the both of you would sometimes masturbate together, never looking anywhere but each other’s faces. But sometimes you would sleep throughout the whole night, and sometimes you would end up touching yourself alone and once you were done, you would feel Dick press up his hard on against your ass but do nothing about it until the both of you fell asleep again.

And during the day, you would act like how you always acted. Like there was nothing going on at night between the sheets. Dick would be his usual cheerful, brotherly self. You didn’t have any other talks like you did again. It was mainly silence or single word answers, swears, and moans and his needy whines.

The longest sentence exchanged between the both of you at night would probably be Dick’s “You done? Go back to sleep.” He would, of course, cuddle up against you and maybe grind himself on you a few times.

But then that night happened.

The two of you had been doing this for 6 months already.

One night, you were in bed, not sleeping soundly but not fully awake either. You faintly heard the door opened and close. You opened your eyes and voiced out in the darkness.

“Dick?” you mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replied softly, “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

You heard his footsteps come closer to your bed. You blinked yourself awake.

“No, I wasn’t really sleeping,” you explained. He was standing by the side of your bed dressed in a plain white shirt and boxers. “What’s wrong?”

“I- I need you,” he whispered, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course,” you immediately sat up and pulled the covers, “Get in here.”

He snuggled up next to you, now lying down on his side facing you.

“What time is it?” you asked.

“Almost four in the morning.”

“You just got back from patrol?” you enquired.

“Yeah,” he simply said.

Your eyes darted across his face to see him in the dark. You noticed he had a butterfly BandAid across a cut on his right cheekbone. Your hands immediately went to caress it.

“Oh my god,” you whispered excitedly, “Nightwing got injured?”

“I’m not invincible you know,” he scoffed.

“Could have fooled me,” you smiled softly at him.

He didn’t reply, but you could feel his intense stare. You continued caressing his cheek.

“So who did it? Pyg? Zsaz?” you paused before you jokingly added, “Condiment King?”

Dick let out a chuckle at that.

“No,” he replied, his smile faltering, “It was Deathstroke.”

No wonder he had his panties in a bunch.

“Oh,” you simply responded, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he sighed, wrapping you with his arms and pulling you into his heat by your waist, “I just need you.”

You were so close to him, you could feel his warm breath on your face, his chest rise and fall against yours. Your lips were inches away from each other, and you suddenly felt some sort of pull.

You knew the term electricity sparking between two people was cheesy and overused, but it really was how you felt then. It was like some sort of static that pulled you in closer and closer to him, all the while your heartbeat felt like like it was drumming in your ears.

You suddenly felt hot, too hot. You had your air conditioner switched on and yet you felt like you were sweating. You were suddenly aware of his arms around you. He’s cuddled you like that many times before, but it seemed different tonight.

You noticed his toned biceps flexing around you, how his large warm hand settled at your lower back, burning the small patch of skin that was exposed from your shirt hiking up. You noticed one of his thighs were in between yours, and that your leg had subconsciously found its way up to his hips, almost straddling him sideways.

And you noticed how your core was pressed against his thigh, the pressure making you feel tingly. As if he read your mind, he pressed his thigh between yours harder.

“Dick,” you moaned.

“I need you,” he breathed, and repeated the action again.

You were both staring at each other’s lips. You saw his tongue quickly dart out to wet his lower lip. You both knew what was going to happen next, but it seemed like forever before he actually kissed you.

It didn’t really start out as a kiss at first. He simply pressed his lips against yours gently, like he was testing to see if it was okay. When you reciprocated by adding pressure to the kiss, then he started to ease into it, taking your lower lip into his mouth, adding small licks here and there.

But when you opened your mouth to give him access, it was like he snapped. He thrusted his tongue inside your mouth to taste you, and suddenly flipped you over, climbing on top of you.

He grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, all the while tongue fucking your mouth. You started mewling at the growing intensity of the kiss, and how he completely dominated it.

He broke off the kiss to rasp “I need you” once more, and then started going lower to suck and lick on the skin above your pulse. You felt him let go of your hands only for him to start feeling you up from beneath your shirt, bunching it up in the process. You let out a groan when he started massaging your breasts, playing with your nipples.

In one swift motion, he pulled your top over your head and tossed it onto the floor. He then immediately went to your nipple and took it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue, all the while pulling and pinching the other with his finger.

He traveled lower again, and forced your thighs apart with his hands, immediately burying his face in between your thighs. He started mouthing you over your sleeping shorts, making it grow damper with both your slick and his saliva.

“Dick,” you begged.

He took them off smoothly.

“Fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You felt your face heat up when he complimented you. You felt a bit vulnerable, your legs spread and fully exposed to him. But all the nervousness disappeared when he licked a strip from your hole to your clit, making you shudder in the intense, unfamiliar pleasure.

“I’ve always wanted to taste you,” he teased, his hot breaths sending bolts of electricity over your pussy. He dove in again.

He groaned around your sensitive bud, his vibrations almost completely unraveling you. Suddenly you felt him insert a finger into you while lapping at your clit.

“Oh, God,” you whined, “Fuck, Dick, please.”

He curled his finger upwards to massage the sweet spot inside you, causing you to thrash about, your hands flying from above your head to his soft curls. You tugged on his hair as he continued to drink you up, making him moan as well.

He added a second finger.

You felt the familiar heat build and build as he worked your pussy with his mouth and hands.

He added a third.

“Dick,” you choked, “I’m gonna-”

And then everything you felt was gone. Dick was now kneeling on the bed in between your legs, suddenly shirtless and grinning, his mouth glistening with your juices.

“No,” you whimpered, “More.”

You started bucking your hips in vain to relieve some of the tension that he built.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” his voice was suddenly at your ear, “I need you. I need to feel you. Can I?”

“Please,” you whined, canting your hips to meet his. You felt his hard on poking at you through his boxers, begging for attention.

“You want my cock, baby?” he purred, “You want me to fill you up?”

“Please,” you repeated, your mind was hazy, and it was like the only word you knew how to say.

“Okay, baby, I’ll give you my cock,” his breath tickled your ear.

You felt the bed shift, and you didn’t even realise that your eyes were closed. You opened them and saw Dick position himself between your spread legs, his shorts gone. Suddenly, you felt nervous again.

“Uhm, Dick?” you voiced out.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, one hand wrapped around his leaking shaft, the tip wet and reflecting what little light there was.

“Is… that normal?” you pointed to his cock.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Is it normal for a penis to be that big?”

He grinned at you and chuckled.

“Don’t worry, babe,” he winked, “I know it’s your first time, so I’ll take it slow, okay?”

“O-okay,” you stuttered.

He aligned his cock at your hole, pushed in slightly, but then took it away to rub it between your wet folds.

Your breath hitched.

He repeated what he did, pushed in a bit more, only to take it out again.

“Jesus, Dick,” you gasped, “I know you said to take it slow, but-”

You let out a long moan when he finally pushed it in beyond the bell of his head, causing you to wince slightly at the stretch.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, still pushing it in dangerously slow.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you panted, “Oh fuck, you’re huge. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He stilled as soon as he bottomed out in you, a thumb rubbing your clit to distract you from the almost pleasurable but still painful stretch.

But god, the sensations you felt.

You felt so full, and so good, and like your whole body was on fire. The way he filled you up meant that he was touching every single spot inside you that gave you pleasure.

You weren’t the only one who was whimpering.

You saw Dick with his eyes shut, his eyebrows furrowed, his lower lip bit. He was breathing hard.

“Fuck,” he choked, “Fuck. You feel- fuck.”

“You can move, please,” you instructed.

“You sure?” he whispered.

“Yes, Dick, please.”

He pulled out slowly, but not completely, and he pushed back in.

“Your walls are clinging onto my cock, fuck,” he described.

Indeed, you felt it too. It was like your body didn’t ever want his cock to leave you.

He leaned over you and propped his elbows at either side of your face, his hips still thrusting in and out. You could see the droplets of sweat on his forehead, and smell his familiar citrusy scent along with his salty musk.

You adjusted to his size quickly enough, because soon, you needed more.

“Faster, please,” you told him.

His pace quickened ever so slightly.

It was better, but still not enough. You wanted to feel him, every inch of him. You were greedy for his cock, and greedy for your high.

“Faster,” you pleaded.

He obeyed, but it still wasn’t enough. You knew he was still holding back.

“God dammit, Dick Grayson,” you angrily cried out, “I’m not going to fucking break, so go the fuck faster.”

“Fine,” he panted above you, “You want fast? I’ll give you fast.”

He snapped his hips, and you got the breath knocked out of you.

He started pummeling into you, drilling his cock violently into your pussy.

You bit your lip so you wouldn’t scream your lungs out at the intense pleasure you felt as he pounded you.

“This fast enough for you, sweetheart?” he breathed.

You couldn’t form a snarky reply, hell, you couldn’t form any words at all. The only word you knew was his name and ‘Please’, which you chanted like a mantra, all the while not even knowing what you were pleading for.

The sound of the room was filled with your heavy breaths and vulgar sounds, the slapping of his cock into you and the wet slick that you knew came from your dripping slit.

“Fuck, I need you,” he suddenly crashed his lips into you, violating your mouth with his tongue, his thrusts never faltering.

You felt the previous orgasm build again, but this time it was different from any other you’ve felt. You felt like your vision was getting narrower, like you were seeing white light, slowly building and building its intensity.

“Dick,” you choked.

“Me too, baby, me too,” he muttered, his rhythm now getting sloppy, his moans and groans now replaced with new sounds, the sounds you knew he made when he came.

And then it finally came, you felt yourself flutter around his length, a hand covering your mouth which meant that you must have been making a lot of noise that you didn’t notice.

And then you didn’t hear nor see anything but white static, and an electrical fire that burst throughout your whole body. When you were slowly coming down, you heard him.

His whines and whimpers.

You felt him pull out from your cunt, the sudden emptiness slightly surprising you, and he came all over your stomach in streaks of white.

Your vision was still cloudy, but you could see clearly that he was still hovering above your body, propped up with one arm next to your head, sweating with his eyes closed and breathing hard.

With a groan, he sat up and took his shirt he discarded from before to wipe you clean.

He collapsed next to you and pulled you close, giving you a kiss on the nose.

“That was- wow,” he chuckled.

“Agreed,” you giggled, looking at him endearingly. He looked completely wiped out.

“I love you,” he said, “But no one can know about us, okay? At least, for now.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “But, Dick?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want us to pretend like this never happened in the morning,” you whispered, “I don’t want us to act like normal even when we’re alone.”

“Me neither,” he sighed, caressing your cheek, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that before. I just wanted to live in denial. I didn’t want to face my issues.”

“I know,” you smiled softly, “It’s okay. I know it’ll take time for you to get over your guilt or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” he scoffed, “It’s complicated, you know, seeing that I’m supposed to be the responsible one.”

“Whatever,” you lightly teased, “As long as you stop calling me ‘sis’, I’ll be good.”

“Yeah, I only called you that to try to tell myself what you’re supposed to be for me,” he confessed, “But now that’s obviously out the window, I’ll stop.”

“Thanks, Dick.”

“No problem, bro.”

The last sound you heard him make before you drifted to sleep was a yelp that you elicited from him by smacking him on his head.

[trvelyans-archive]

lost time

a commission for the lovely and ever iconic @dauntless-necromancer of their cousland and morrigan and kieran and kieran’s Bae <3 thank you very much for commissioning me again, you’re the absolute best and i appreciate it a lot <3 i hope you enjoy the fic as much as i enjoyed writing it !!!

-

Kieran did not have any friends in Orlais.

He did not know why. Mother said it was because he scared them too much, but he didn’t know what it was about him that scared them. He was quiet and shy and rarely raised his voice – how did that scare everyone so much? He didn’t know his place in the noble children’s friendship circles, so he did not want to push his luck or speak when he wasn’t supposed to when they already looked at him the way that they did, but they didn’t like him no matter what. It felt like there was no winning, like his Mother would be his only friend forever. And he loved Mother, but… she had jobs to do for the Empress and she was not always around. Sometimes he sat alone in his room all night, deciphering ancient writing as best as he could and playing games with his wooden toys by himself. He didn’t have any friends, and he was lonely.

Until Satine came along.

He was roaming the Hall of Heroes in the Winter Palace when he saw her the first time. After a while, he spent almost all soirees and balls and other parties by himself, so this time he was so focused on the statues in front of him and the low-burning candles at their feet that he barely noticed her peeking out from behind one of them, watching him with a small smile and bright, intelligent eyes. She had a nice dress on – she certainly wasn’t one of the serving girls who occasionally tried to play with them when they said he looked sad – and was watching him carefully.

“Hi?” Kieran said when he realized she hadn’t looked away, frowning.

“Hi,” she said. “What are you doing?”

“Looking at the statues,” he answered, pointing at them. “I like this one.”

It was a lion, big and broad and shining gold. The girl crept out from the statue she had been hiding behind and looked at it. “Do you like lions?”

“I like all animals.” Kieran turned to her as she approached. “I think I’d be scared of lions if I saw one in person, but I like statues of them. They’re very elegant.”

That was one of Kieran’s favourite words.

She walked over to the lion and ran her fingers over the edge of the statue. “What’s your favourite animal?”

“I don’t know,” Kieran said genuinely, tilting his head as he thought. “I like dragons, but I think I’d be scared of them if I saw one in person, too. They’re very strong and very old.”

She glanced over at him and studied him for a second and then suddenly, just as Kieran realized that perhaps that was an odd thing to say, she grinned. “I like dragons, too,” she said. “I like birds the most.”

“I like birds, too,” Kieran replied. “I wish I could fly. Maybe one day.”

“Maybe one day we will become great dragon tamers and ride them across Thedas,” she said.

“Yes,” Kieran said. “Thedas and whatever lies beyond it.”

She was fiddling with the skirts of her dress. “You think there’s something across the ocean?”

He shrugged as he nodded. “I think so,” he admitted. He should learn how to stop saying such weird things, he thought. He’d have a lot more friends if he did. “I’d like to stay here, though. Mother is here, and I don’t want to leave her.”

“Who’s your mother?”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, debating whether or not to tell her. It wasn’t like either of them could get in trouble for it – the Empress hired Mother to be her Arcane Advisor willingly, it wasn’t like she didn’t know that Morrigan was a mage – but he knew people didn’t understand what Mother really did in Orlais and he didn’t know if this newfound friendship would last through him trying to explain it.

“The Empress’ arcane advisor,” he answered finally.

She blinked at him before smiling again. “That sounds very interesting,” she said.

“Oh, it is.” He was always proud of the work Mother did – the things she’d show him, anyway – and it was nice for someone else to think so, too. “Very interesting.”

She held her hand out to him and wiggled her fingers. “I want to show you something cool I found in the library earlier,” she said. “And you can tell all about it while we explore, okay?”

He looked down at her hand. “Do you… Are you asking to be my friend?”

“Yes,” she said. “I would like to be friends with you. What’s your name?”

“Kieran,” he said, placing his hand in her palm. She squeezed it, hard.

“I’m Satine,” she replied, pulling him along behind her as she began walking up the stairs. “I think we are going to be good friends, Kieran.”

He wanted to say ‘me too’, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to get his hopes up only for them to get dashed on the ground again.

… He did have a good feeling about this, though.

-

Kieran taller than most of the guards at Castle Cousland. They shrink a little as he walks by – though whether it’s because he’s tall or it’s because he’s the son of a Witch of the Wilds, he can’t tell – but when he offers them as friendly of a smile as he can manage they seem to relax somewhat. Not all of them do that, though, and they don’t do it all of the time. Every time he wanders through the fortress at night and, admittedly, catches them a little off-guard, they seem to be scared of him even when he smiles; even when he tries to make conversation. Perhaps he should pull his hood down on those occasions, but he doesn’t really feel comfortable doing that just yet.

He can’t blame them, though. He definitely doesn’t look like an average Ferelden. The rest of them are tanned, strong – he’s pale, or paler than them at least (though he’s tanner more now that he’s spending more time outside), he’s freckly, and he has a shock of dark brown hair that hangs down over his wide forehead, which Mother says is “unforgivingly mysterious”.

And then, one night, Elrich asks him if he wants a haircut, so he says yes.

“I wish there were other people my age here,” Kieran comments, half-heartedly flipping through an Elven text while watching his father out of the corner of his eye in between falling clumps of hair.

Elrich is sharpening his sword, but stops when he looks up at Kieran and smiles, eyes softening. “I know, pup,” he says gently. “And if things in Thedas were different –“ He glances over at Morrigan – “and if your mother allowed it, I’d suggest you go travelling, but…”

“My son is not going to die in Tevinter,” she says. Kieran can hear the frown in her voice. “Or the Anderfels, or Antiva, or wherever a boy his age would travel to.”

“Not even Denerim?” Kieran asks.

“Maybe Denerim,” Elrich says, leveling an even stare at Morrigan over Kieran’s head that Kieran hears her respond to with a groan. “Next summer, perhaps. If things die down.”

Morrigan snorts but says nothing, and Elrich just smiles at her before looking down at his sword again. Kieran watches them for a moment, stomach twisting with unease, before glancing back down at his book.

… He really needs some friends his age.

-

One day, when Mother was away visiting some city called Serault on important business for the Empress, Kieran had free reign of their quarters in the Winter Palace.

Granted, that didn’t mean much – their quarters were, rather simply, three adjoining rooms in a very dusty, disused hallway – but still, it meant something. Though the servants came in every once in a while to check up on him, and he kept all of the doors open in case someone needed to get him for something, he liked how free he felt. He felt so free that he occasionally dared to touch the relics on Mother’s desk, but then found it too overwhelming and started keeping away from them after that.

On a rainy morning, Satine came to visit. She was carrying a small pack of dainty Orlesian cakes and cookies. Kieran welcomed her into his and Mother’s quarters with a smile, and closed the door tightly behind her as she sat down on the table.

“I know you said you were lonely without your mother,” she began, “so I thought I would come visit while Papa had business with the Empress.”

Could she really tell that easily?

He did like having control of their quarters without her, but he did miss her, too. She said they probably couldn’t exchange many letters while she was gone, and he missed her jokes and her smile and the way she sung him to sleep when everything else around and in his head were far too loud. He winced, glancing away. “I don’t miss her that much,” he said defensively.

Satine opened the pack and drew out a single white cookie. “Of course you do,” she replied. “I would miss Papa if he left for a while. He’s my favourite chess partner.”

“I play chess with Mother, too.”

He walked over to the table and sat down beside her, grabbing a cookie that was the same in appearance to her’s but didn’t taste the way he thought it would.

“We should play chess together sometime,” she said, playfully wiggling her eyebrows at him. He smiled and took another bite of his cookie.

“I think you would beat me,” he replied.

“No way! You’re much smarter than I am.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Yes, you are,” Satine said, rolling her eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Though I guess we will just have to agree to disagree.”

Kieran sighed but, eventually, gave in, because who was he to say no to her?

-

Kieran has very big quarters in Highever Castle.

He has more room than he initially knew what to do with, but he fills it up quickly. After all, he’s allowed to travel down to the market whenever he wants to (since his mother and father know that no one would lift a finger to try anything with him) and he certainly does not take those opportunities lightly. Though he probably should, considering how much money he’s spent on various interesting things that make him curious – but e earns his keep, and his mother gives him a fair enough allowance to buy what he wants since, for the first time in his life, they live in an actual city he can explore without fear.

That’s all he’s wanted for so long, even if he doesn’t have the friends – or any friends at all - to explore it with as he’d like.

His newest toy is a small hawk claw that hangs from the end of a golden chain. The man at the stall said the hawk was very old and have a good life, which Kieran felt relieved about. He’s fiddling with it at the dinner table, smiling, thinking about the creature that it belonged to.

“Hawks are such fascinating creatures, aren’t they?” he asks.

“Very noble,” Elrich says from the head of the table. “We could get you one, if you’d like, to take care of.”

“I do think he’d be quite good at that,” Morrigan adds in.

“I would like that a lot, Father.” Kieran smiles at him and rests the necklace against his chest again, smoothing the chain out over his shirt. “How was your day?”

“It was good.” Elrich glances over at Morrigan. “It was certainly nice to spend some time with your mother, since I didn’t have very many duties to attend to. We took a stroll through the garden, ate lunch on the battlements and watched the city…”

“I miss living in the mountains, but seeing that drunken man stumble around in the street earlier before face-first into a pile of horse droppings…” She smiles wistfully, thinking back on the memory. “Ah, there’s nothing like it. And spending time with you, of course, my dear,” she hastens to say, looking at Elrich with a playful glint in her eye. He winks at her and brings her knuckles up to his lips, kissing them gently.

Kieran smiles and looks down at his plate, giving them a moment to themselves.

“Actually, Kieran, I was thinking we could go somewhere together tomorrow.” Elrich looks over at his son. “There’s a beautiful viewing point a few miles away from the city, and though it’s a small hike through the forest to get there, it’s well worth it. We might as well do some hunting on the way there to get dinner for tomorrow night, as well.”

“You should go,” Morrigan says. “Spend some time with your father, Kieran. I will take care of everything here – I’m sure the guards will love that.”

“Fergus, too,” Elrich adds, chuckling.

“You’re sure, Father?” Kieran asks. He still hasn’t spent much time with his father, just the two of them, and a part of him is slightly nervous for it.

“Absolutely sure,” Elrich says, grinning. “Besides, I’ve been working hard for half my life. I can take a little more time off to go out and explore my childhood home with my son, hm?”

“Okay,” Kieran agrees. He can’t say he’s not looking forward to it, despite his nervousness – and it’ll certainly be good to get out of the castle.

-

The last day Kieran saw Satine was a bit of a blur.

The scouts from this ‘Inquisition’ came to him and mother’s quarters to pack up their things to take to some place called Skyhold, a supposedly grand fortress in the mountains where they would be living for the foreseeable future while Mother worked alongside someone named the Inquisitor. Satine came to the palace as soon as she received Kieran’s letter – he sent it the night of the ball and the peace talks, when his hands were still shaking from the events of the evening – but they were already almost gone, and would not have much time left to spend together to say their goodbyes, a thought that made Kieran more sad than he remembered ever feeling before.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” she said, sitting on the windowsill across from Kieran as the soldiers carried some furniture out the door to the front gardens where their carriage was waiting.

“I can’t either,” Kieran replied, looking over at Satine with a frown. “I don’t want to go.”

“I know you don’t, but… It’ll be an adventure, right?” She nudged his leg with hers, smiling. “And you can still write to me. I’ll pen a response as soon as I hear from you to make sure you’re not waiting around for a reply.”

“Mother says that she doesn’t trust the Inquisition entirely yet,” Kieran said, tipping his head back against the wall and looking out the window at the rolling hills outside of Orlais. “I don’t know if she will want me to be sending very many letters.”

“Oh.” Satine’s face fell, her bottom lip crumpling. “Well… Send them when you can. I’ll write you a letter about everything exciting that happens and then send them all to you at once when I hear from you.”

Kieran looked over at her. “I’m going to miss you, Satine.” He leaned forward, swinging his legs down from the windowsill. “You know that you’re my only friend, right?”

“You’re mine, too.” She pursed her lips. “The other noble children don’t like me very much. I was so happy when we became friends, Kieran.”

She reached out to tangle their fingers together and Kieran, at a lost for words, squeezed her hand as gently as he could without hurting her.

“Kieran,” Mother called from the other side of the room, “we have to go soon.”

He knew Mother felt bad telling him to prepare to leave soon, but she couldn’t do much about it besides give him an understanding nod and leave the room.

Letting go of her hand, Kieran pushed himself off of the windowsill and landed on the floor. Satine followed, the skirts of her dress swishing. “I suppose this is goodbye,” Kieran said quietly.

“Don’t be foolish, Kieran.” She smiled. “I’m going to see you off. I’m not wasting a single second I have left with you.”

He grabbed his bags, filled with gifts Satine had given him over the past two years as well as all of his clothes and other treasured belongings, and declined her offer to help him as he left his room in the Winter Palace for the last time. He would miss it. There were many things he would miss about Orlais.

Satine did see him off, even though the sky was growing dark and trip back to the city would be long. Still, she waited for the soldiers to pack everything into the carriage and did it all standing at his side, holding his hand, and when it was finally time to go, she turned to him tearfully.

“Goodbye,” she said quietly.

“Goodbye,” he replied, hugging her tightly through tears of his own before hurrying to the carriage where his mother was waiting.

-

His father is marching ahead of him through the woods while Kieran lags behind, listening to the sound of happy birdsong while looking up at the trees.

They’re thick and full, and the dark green leaves tremble in the occasional gust of summer wind. He swears he’s never seen a place so beautiful before, nor one so peaceful, even when he and his mother lived in the mountains. At one point during their walk, a small creature scurries out from the undergrowth and into the hollow of a large tree where it disappears somewhere in the shadows. It was a mouse, Kieran thinks, but he didn’t get a very good look at it.

“Kieran?”

He looks up at his father, standing higher up the path with a concerned look. It’s a wide path, with shallow cuts on either side where wheels of carriages from years past have traversed the long road to Highever. He’s more surprised that they haven’t encountered a carriage so far today, especially considering that Ferelden is in the height of summer and it’s the perfect time of day for hunting.

“I’m fine,” Kieran replies, hurrying to catch up. “I was just distracted by a creature.”

Elrich smiles. “You’ve always been a curious boy,” he says fondly, then tilts his head. “Though I suppose you’re a man now, hm?”

Kieran nods. “It doesn’t always feel like it, but yes, I suppose I am.”

Elrich takes a step down the path towards Kieran, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to be a good man, Kieran,” he says. “I see a lot of your mother in you, and she is… well, she is very special.”

A smile curves his lips, and Kieran blinks, unsure what to say other than ‘thank you’ which seems unfitting for the sentiment.

“And I want you to know that I’m proud of you.” He shifts to place his other hand on Kieran’s shoulder as well. “You’re going to grow into your own soon enough. I know you will. I was going through…” Elrich laughs, glancing away. “Well, a lot when I was your age. But I grew into my own, too, with time.”

“You had a few more things to contend with than I do,” Kieran points out with a smile.

“That’s very true.” He squeezes his son’s shoulders softly before letting his hands fall down by his sides. “In any case,” he begins, “we should –“

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the sound of a voice distantly calling for help.

Elrich and Kieran shared a look before springing into action, both of them hurrying down the road towards the source of the noise (thought Kieran was lagging behind due to his heavy pack). Quickly he starts huffing, feeling a sheen of sweat on his brow, but the person sounds distraught, and he is not going to let someone get hurt when he could have helped.

His father reaches them first, and when Kieran crests the hill he can see them – an older man and a shorter woman who Kieran guesses must be around his age, wearing a dress that seems to be Orlesian in style. Elrich is helping the man push their carriage out of the mud from the back while the woman pushes from the front, her face tilted to the ground with effort.

With one final shove, the carriage glides up onto the path once more, and the three of them stumble forward from the momentum as Kieran rushes down towards them. The older man begins thanking Elrich profusely, to which Kieran’s father waves off with a warm smile, and the woman turns to Kieran as he approaches while wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

When his arm drops to his side and he can get a good look on the woman’s face, his stomach drops, too.

No. No. Surely it can’t be her. Of all people, of all places…

“Kieran?”

Suddenly, he feels like his knees could give out from underneath him.

“Satine,” he breathes softly, and he doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before she hugs him.

-

“I just… I just can’t believe it,” Satine says, leaning back in her chair and smiling.

“Me neither,” Kieran replies, running his thumb over the pads of her delicate fingers. “Are you sure you don’t want my cloak? Or to move closer to the fire?”

“Kieran.” She tips her head towards him and looks at him from underneath her eyelashes, a bemused smile on her lips. “I’m fine, here, with you. And you’ve barely gotten a chance to talk about yourself yet! Where did you go after you moved away from Skyhold?”

His story is much less exciting than her’s, and he tells her as such. After it, it took her their whole meal to describe what had happened to her life since he had last seen her. A few years after Kieran left Orlais, Satine’s father died and, as the oldest child, she inherited the family name and fortune. She was even betrothed for a while when she was 17 – before he died, too, apparently. After that, it wasn’t long before she was deemed a weaker member of court with little to no resources to her name (which was blatantly untrue, she explained to Kieran, but people found the lies to be much more appealing) and blackmailed into leaving Orlais.

“We were going to travel to my father’s old estate in Denerim which he bought when he was very young,” she told him, “as it’s the last place I have claim to, but… well, the wheel of our carriage broke, and you know the rest.”

He can still barely believe she’s here. Their carriage could have broken down anywhere, but it broke down here, with him. If they had come even six months earlier, Kieran and Satine never would have crossed paths.

He tells this to her, too, and she asks why, and he explains how he spent the last several years living in the mountains with his mother, and they only just made the trip to move to the city when Elrich returned to them, cured of the Blight and shed of his Warden duties.

“I still can’t believe he’s your father.” She’s holding his hands, now, running her fingers over the back of his hand and drawing absentminded shapes on his skin while she glances across the room to where Elrich and Morrigan look suspiciously like they’re watching them. “The Hero of Ferelden. How could you never tell me?”

“I tried. Once.” Kieran smiles. “You didn’t believe me.”

Satine rolls her eyes, blushing briefly. “That doesn’t sound like me,” she replies with a hint of sadness. “I was a foolish child – I always played into those foolish fantasies…”

“Like what?”

Kieran’s question catches her by surprise – she meets his gaze and shrinks a little, dropping her eyes to their hands. “Like I could be the head of my family at such a young age,” she says. “Like I could do that and be a good person. Ha! There’s only so much you can spend on resources while paying your servants ten times what other nobles do… It worked for a while, but not for a whole life.” Satine ducks her head, then frowns. “I wouldn’t take it back, though. I hope you know that.”

“You’ve always had a kind heart,” Kieran tells her. “It’s one of my favourite things about you.”

She blushes, biting her lip. “Thank you, Kieran,” she says quietly.

Across the room, Elrich drapes his arm over the back of Morrigan’s chair. “He’s never mentioned her before,” he says. “I’m surprised that they seem so… close.”

Very close. Elrich is surprised that they haven’t snuck away to some shadowy alcove yet, all things considered.

“You should have seen them together when they were children.” Morrigan sighs, running a hand over her forehead. “I could not keep them away from each other, no matter how hard I tried. I think he was in love with her the first day they met. He was so pleased to finally have a friend…”

“It seems he feels the same way now,” Elrich replies, gesturing to where Kieran clasps both of Satine’s hands in his. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him smile like that.”

“Well, thankfully, she is a brilliant girl.” Morrigan smiles wistfully at the sight of the two of them but, when she sees her husband beaming at her, clears her throat. “She used to be, anyway. Only time will tell if she’s still good enough for him.”

He leans over and presses a kiss to her temple. “We have to let him make his own decisions sometime, love.”

She sighs in annoyance, swatting his arm playfully as he wraps it around her and hugs her close. “Don’t tell me that,” she says. “Hearing that as a mother is worse than being run through with a sword.”

“It’s hard for me, too.” Elrich looks over at Kieran again, where he’s opening one of the books out of a stack of many that he brought down to show Satine after dinner. “Now that we’re all together again, it’s hard not to want to spend all my free time with him after missing out on so many years.”

He heaves a regretful sigh, but before he can turn his head, Morrigan reaches up to cup his cheek. “He understands,” she says. “And I know he wants to spend time with you too.”

“I hope so,” Elrich replies. “And I hope I’ve taught him well enough in the short time we’ve had together to make a good decision.”

“He will,” Morrigan says. “But not because of your teaching…”

He kisses her forehead again, chuckling. “Now that’s just cruel.”

“Perhaps.” She leans against his shoulder. “But you love me despite it.”

He laughs. “That I do, love. And either way,” Elrich continues, “I hope everything turns out well for all of us.”

Watching Kieran and Satine on the other side of the room, however, sitting so close together they might as well be in each other’s laps and still holding hands all the while, it’s very hard to believe that it won’t.

-

Within a few months, Satine is moved into the castle.

Her caretaker moves into the city, and after Elrich sets him up with a job working for a baker in the thick of Highever, he occasionally comes by Castle Cousland to bring the four of them food. Kieran and Satine have left piles of crumbs in every room and down every corridor, depending where they set up camp to read books or play chess that day, but Satine always convinces Kieran to clean it up instead of sweeping it into holes in the walls for the mice to get (and then they leave out fancy Orlesian cheese on plates for them, instead). Within a year, Satine moves into Kieran’s quarters; within two, they’re more or less officially betrothed.

“We’ll get married at some point,” Satine says to Morrigan and Elrich one day at dinner, holding Kieran’s hand under the table. “But it’s not our biggest concern right now.”

At the same time, of course, Kieran and Elrich are trying to make up for lost time. They go hunting together for game even though the soldiers try to convince Elrich to let them do it instead, and even when they’re not hunting they go on walks together, just the two of them, where Elrich tells Kieran stories of his time in the Blight and Kieran talks about whatever his latest interest is. They do end up buying a hawk for him that Elrich helps Kieran take care of whenever they have an hour or two to spend together. It becomes quite a popular member of the household, and with Satine around to draw him out of his shell, Kieran follow in its path. He has a few friends now, even without counting the soldiers who greet him warmly every time he walks by holding Satine’s hand.

She’s a perfect addition to the family. Elrich and her are very close, Kieran notes, and his father even teaches Satine how to shoot a bow and how to sword fight (neither of which Kieran is particularly good at himself). In turn, Satine tries to teach him how to sew – it doesn’t end very well, but it certainly made for an entertaining attempt.

Kieran can scarcely believe it most days, how he came from being such a lonely child to having a loving mother and father and a best friend who tells him she adores him every day despite his oddities. (“Of which you have none,” she always protests.) He is incredibly lucky, he thinks, to be end up with a life like this considering where he came from. He only hopes it can stay this way.

[hannahmcne]

Getting It Right

Ben almost throws up the first time a boy shows up to pick his daughter up at the palace.

And no, it's not just because she's old enough to be considered pretty and there are now boys sending her cards for her birthday and asking for her number. Because he and Mal have handled that pretty well - checking her phone weekly and making her download a spyware app that tells them not only how often she's using her phone to text but also who she spends the most time texting and also forwarding any photos she sends or receives. (Ben's honestly not too worried about her sending bad photos to boys since she's always been pretty aware of what would happen if someone got ahold of sexts from the princess of Auradon, but he does care about what she might receive.) And Belle is smart. She gets good grades and all her friends act like mini-adults outside of Preston and Jayson, Jay's two twin boys. Her two best friends are Tanner and Sophie, Evie's kids, and those two are the type of honest kids who make the world spin the way it should. So when Belle tells him and Mal that she'll be going out one Friday night(that did hurt a bit, in hindsight), he doesn't worry too much. He makes sure that she charges her phone and tells her to make sure to keep the ringer on and don't go anywhere there isn't reception. She gets some pepper spray and a switchblade from Mal, and a cautious warning from him. On the night of, she comes in to ask for help putting a braid in her hair(Mal pulls too much and always forgets which way she's braiding halfway through), and then borrows a pair of Mal's earrings that someone from the courts sent her and that she's never worn.

He has to run up to his office to file some paperwork, but Lumiere pages from the front gates when the boy arrives and he gets down to the foyer about a minute after Mal and Belle have already welcomed him in.

And that's when he has to hold back a simultaneous snort, roll of the eyes, and a gag.

Because out of all the people Belle hangs out with and her being the upstanding teen she is, why on earth would she want to go out with this boy?

His daughter had to bring home the worst sort of kid out there.

The smell of smoke is wafting around the kid as he stands in the foyer of the palace wearing a sweaty tank top and what appear to be girl's leggings that are pushed down to show the tops of his underwear. His ratty hair is braided back and he has green streaks in both his eyebrows and head hair. A nose ring pokes through his nostril with a gem swinging from it like some sort of crystalized booger.

Now, to be fair, Ben has no issue with boys braiding their hair or cross-dressing or nose rings or hair dye. Smoking toes the line a bit. And this kid, he knows, is definitely not old enough to legally be smoking.

However, it is the sheer lack of uncleanliness and the devil-may-care attitude that has him squinting a little, closing his eyes, and then dragging his hands down his face with a sigh.

Mal's mouth is pressed together in disappointment. She, too, is no stranger to funky hair colors or piercings and boys dressing like they're heading to tourney practice(she grew up on the Isle of the Lost with Jay as her close ally, of course), but her disappointment makes the air so thick he has no idea how Belle is still smiling, fidgeting a little as she presents the young man.

"Daddy," she begins with a little smile. "This is Joel. We're going out skating tonight." Then she waits with her little handbag clutched in between her fingers, twisting the toe of her shoe into the ground as she waits.

What is she waiting for? Approval? An "I'm so sorry for you"? Ben looks over at Mal, whose eyes are a bit wide as she exhales in frustration. It's good to know they're on the same page.

Joel steps forward, letting out a breath, and slouches forward as he puts his hands on Belle's shoulders. "When do you want her home?" He asks.

Now, Ben thinks, it is one thing to come into the High Palace dressed the way you are. It is another to think you can take the princess out, who looks decent and tailored and somewhat professional, when you reek like you've been choosing to shower in smoke and sweat instead of water. It is one more to meet the king - the father of the girl you're taking out - not introduce yourself, not greet him at all, and not have any regard to speak except "when do you want her home?"

Ben gives the boy another once over and this time notices something that turns his stomach around in his torso. The kid has a white box between the waistline of the leggings and his underwear, half-open and dirty from touching his skin. This time, he does roll his eyes.

"No," he announces, shaking his head.

"No?" Belle asks, with the smile dropping off her face in confusion. "What do you mean, no?"

"No," Ben repeats, stepping forward, taking her arm, and then pushing her towards the stairs a little. "Not happening. Go upstairs, you're going to bed."

Mal hides a smile behind her hand as the kid processes what is going on. He looks like a blue screen on a computer as it loads. "What?" He asks. "But-" he leans over Ben's shoulder to try and talk to Belle. "Aren't we going to go skating?"

That pisses Ben off. Because if anything, the kid should be asking him this instead of ignoring the way he's now standing in between him and his daughter.

"Not anymore," Ben takes the boy's shoulders and, ignoring the sweat that is now on his fingertips, turns him around and marches him closer to the door. "I just decided she's not going out. Have a nice evening and drive safe."

Mal opens the door with a smirk as Ben moves closer to it. Joel steps out with a dazed look. "Wait, but-" the door closes softly in front of him.

"Dad!" Belle protests from the stairs. She marches up with her green eyes blazing in fury. "Why can't we go out? It's going to be fun!"

"I can't believe you even tried to bring him home," Mal snorted softly. "If I were you, I would have attempted to meet up there."

"I would have had to have met the kid first to allow that," Ben disagrees, taking Mal's arm and shaking his head. "You seriously couldn't pick anyone better? The kid was high and looked like he hadn't showered since the day he was born."

"I met cleaner kids on the Isle of the Lost," Mal pitches in, nodding along to his words.

"Listen, Belle," Ben begins. "You are a bright and smart and beautiful young girl. I don't know why on earth you're going out with people like that, but I don't want you to ever bring someone like that home again."

"You're just upset because I'm older now and dating people!" Belle accuses. "And you're judging him based on the way he looks!"

"And smells," Mal adds dryly.

"Belle, I will let you go out with any decent kid you show me, boy or girl," Ben sighs, holding out his hands to count on his fingers when he talks. "But the kid you just tried to show me clearly put no thought into making tonight special for you, didn't even consider that he was coming to the palace to pick you up and he would have to meet the King and Queen before he'd be allowed to take the princess out, was higher than the ceiling fan, didn't introduce himself or shake hands or anything, and was filthier than the backside of a factory vent." He crosses his arms and frowns at her. "If you're going to make a habit of bringing home kids like that, we'll have to get you a lot more than pepper spray."

"A class," Mal moans, covering her face. "A self-help website. A book. A counselor. Something."

Belle's eyes fill up with stubborn, angry tears before she whirls on her feet and stomps away up the stairs. Ben listens to her march away. Her room is further up to prevent people from sneaking in while royal activities are going on, but he still hears the echoes of her door slamming about two minutes later when she reaches it.

Mal leans her head against his shoulder. "We're not going to survive the dating phase, are we?" She whispers. Ben sighs in silent agreement before she puts a hand on his shoulder and looks up at him. "Did you see on his hip? He had a box of-"

"I saw," Ben cuts her off with a shake of his head. "It's okay. It won't happen again."

________________________________________________________________

Belle doesn't stay mad for long. She forgets to be angry by lunch that next day and by the time 24 hours have passed, she's agreed that it probably wouldn't have been the best situation. It gives both Ben and Mal a bit of hope when she says she's been asked out again, but Ben makes sure to be in the foyer when the second boy knocks. There have been a few long conversations - Mal and Ben made a deal that if he gave Belle the "what to do if a boy wants to do things you know we don't approve of" talk, then she'd handle teaching their daughter a few self-defense tricks and set out standards for boys and dates and "how your father and I want your date to behave when he meets us" and the occasional threat for not complying with their terms. Belle now has a taser and Ben called Carlos to see if there was a way that they could program the emergency button on Belle's phone to also call him and Mal if she hits it, and they all feel a little more prepared.

There's a knock at the door and Ben opens it up. At least with this kid, there's an immediate reason why she's going out with him. He looks good. Long, dark hair like Jay's back in high school, but thicker. His skin is dark and clean and he's strong. He's dressed in a red t-shirt that looks well enough, but the blue jeans he wears are almost all holes. All up and down his legs, in the front and back. The only untouched parts are the seams on the sides. Ben sighs a little and puts a smile on. At least this kid doesn't have a jewel swinging in his nostril. Instead, the black gauges he has look calm and not flashy.

"I'm Carlie," he introduces himself, holding out a hand to shake. "Your daughter and I are going out to a rodeo tonight. I hope she's ready."Mal hums beside him. He glances over at her as he shakes Carlie's hand.

"Okay," he nods.

The kid steps over the doorframe, weaves around Ben, and then claps his hands together when he sees Belle standing beside the stairs. Ben sees Mal narrow her eyes as he invites himself into the entryway. "There she is!" He announces to the world in a loud voice. "Come on, we can't take forever!" He huffs and crosses his arms before giving Ben's daughter a once-over. She's wearing a floral dress with a white jacket. Her shoes are white sneakers, and she looks a little thrown off. "Girl, you're going to ruin those shoes. The rodeo has black mud for miles. And you won't be able to ride anything in that dress."

Belle's lips fall into a frown. Ben and Mal exchange a look. "You didn't tell me we were going to a rodeo," she told him. "You said to dress nice."

"I meant like this," Carlie slaps his hands against his distressed jeans. Mal presses a hand to her forehead.

Belle stares at Carlie, eyes tracing his outfit and the disbelieving expression on his face. Ben feels bad for her - she spent a solid three hours getting ready and even went to Mal for advice when she stopping believing his affirmations of "you look wonderful, sweetheart." She never goes to Mal for fashion advice. Ever. It's always him, Evie, or sometimes Audrey.

Belle sighs dramatically. "Well you should have given me context," she reprimands him. "And if you were worried about being late, why didn't you ask to pick me up earlier?"

"Didn't realize I'd have to come all the way up and meet your folks," Carlie replies, sticking a thumb out at Ben and Mal. "Most chicks just come on down and get in the car,"

"Well, I guess next time you know to plan ahead," Belle mutters. Her eyes are sparking in annoyance. Ben presses his lips together to keep from laughing.

"Next time?" The kid asks with a laugh. "Do I have to come by the king every single time? Maybe next time you should just drive yourself and meet me."

Belle looks past Carlie at Ben and gives him this wide-eyed, hard look of "I can't believe this is happening." Ben can hardly believe it either. He wishes he had a camera rolling. Would the security cameras pick up good enough footage?

"Well," Belle huffs. "I guess we'd better get going then." She walks towards the door, pausing beside Carlie and holding out her arm for him to take. He ignores it though, and then walks back out, scoffing a little as he passes Ben and Mal.

Mal hugs Belle and whispers a few lines of "Be safe, I love you, be good." And then Belle tries to hug Ben. He puts an arm around her and kisses her head, but he's not convinced yet. They watch Carlie jump down to his truck, which sits in the circle lot, and then hop in and start it up. A cloud of black smoke explodes from the tailpipe and the car starts with a noise like a cow screaming. Belle's arms are tense.

Ben puts his arms around Mal as they watch her walk down. "Are we really letting her do this?" Mal demands in an urgent tone. "Look at how he treats her!"

"It's okay. She needs to learn that if she picks the wrong type of guy, she won't have a good time," Ben assures her. Mal's fingers curl into her hands still, and they watch as Belle opens her own door, looking immensely irritated, and then buckles her seatbelt.

The car leaves slowly. Ben hums as they reach the end of the circle driveway. "I didn't think she'd last that long," he whispers in Mal's ear. She looks up at him, a little confused.

The car stays paused at the end of the driveway for the longest time. Then, instead of turning out to the main road that will take them to the gates, the car returns into the driveway and comes back up to the door.

"There is it," Ben laughs. Ben and Mal watch Belle open the door, now looking angry. As she jumps out, a storm of swear words follows her. Ben briefly hears about five insults directed at her, him and Mal, and the palace before Belle slams the door so hard a crack appears in the window. She stomps up the steps as the truck takes off, leaving behind a cloud of black smoke that makes Ben cough a little as his daughter storms past him and Mal. He chuckles as he closes the front door.

"How'd you know?" Mal asks once Belle is far enough away. "Ben shakes his head.

"Oh please," he snorted. "She likes the way he looks, but she doesn't like his attitude!"

________________________________________________________________

She only tries to sneak past Ben once, and he makes sure it'll never happen again.

He's in his old office, finishing up a few things, when Lumiere pages up. The receiver on his desk cackles a bit as it connects and then Lumiere greets him with a little smile. "Your Majesty," He begins, "The princess's date has arrived."

Ben pauses, staying silent, and glances down at the calendar on his desk. It is blank. No one is due to go anywhere tonight. This means Belle either completely forgot she had a date and didn't tell them, or she forgot to tell Lumiere not to tip her dad off when they showed up. Ben hums. "Thank you, Lumiere. Could you let them in, please? But if Belle is in the car when they go back out, keep them in."

Lumiere pauses on the other end of the line. Ben can feel him contemplating the odd request, but he doesn't ask. "Yes, your majesty," he agrees.

Ben picks up the key to lock his room on the way out and then walks past Mal's office as she's on the phone with someone in Arendelle, arranging for them to transfer a case from the lower courts to the High court. He's in a bit of a rush, but he can't resist her when she's furrowing up her brow and forcing her breath to come out normally. He loves how hard she works to be his queen. He steps inside and, when she doesn't immediately notice him, hurries to sweep in and cut her next sentence off with a kiss.

"We'll be expecting the file to arrive on - mph!" Mal squeaks as he shoves the phone away from her ear to tangle his fingers in her hair. There are days when his suits are tailored and his skin is clear and he is every inch the king his parents hoped he would be. Then there are other days when buttons on his shirts have been hastily snapped off and possessive marks dot his neck and jaw and there is nothing anyone else can do about it but roll their eyes. Sometimes he is perfectly professional. Other times, he's a fool in love.

"I'm on the phone!" Mal protests. "Why are you here?" He can hear someone from Arendelle laughing on the other end of the call as they realize what happened. He's well-known for interrupting meetings, conversations, and interviews when he decides she's too darn sexy for him to pass up.

"I love you," Ben laughs, kissing her cheek as her face flares up the way it did the first few times he said it when they were teens. "And I'm heading to correct some negligence in our family."

"Negligence?" Mal askes, dumbfounded. "What did Tyler do now?"

Ben snorts. Of course, Mal would assume it was Tyler after all the years they spent trying to get their middle child to shape up. He's an adult now, though, and not even living in the palace. He shakes his head as he heads back to the door, gesturing to Mal to finish her call up and he'll tell her later.

He has to speed up to make it down the entry staircase and out the front door before Belle comes down or before her friends show up, and then he takes a right and goes wandering through his Mom's rose garden to the left of the palace while he waits for Belle's friends to reach the front.

A red pickup truck pulls in, with three teens in front and a large group in the back. They don't notice him as they pull to a stop in front of the palace. The front door opens and Belle dashes out, purple hair up in a ponytail and a black leather jacket over her shoulder with an old school backpack in one hand as she dashes out to the truck in a frantic panic. One kid jumps out - a boy with muddied boots and a black long-sleeved shirt, and he helps her step up on the wheel and swing her leg into the truck. "Don't we got to talk to your parents?" One girl calls from the front of the truck.

Belle waves them on. "No, we just gotta leave before they get out of office! Come on, let's go!"

Ben pinches his lips together. Hmm.

She sits down in the back and then the truck lurches to a roll. They start to pull away, music loud and everyone laughing. Before they can pass the rose garden, Ben steps out and walks slowly out to the center of the driveway. For a moment, the teens don't see him, and then the truck screeches to a stop about seven feet in front of him. Ben just presses his lips together again. The kids in the front seat stare at him for several long seconds, and one of the girls has the decency to look sheepish. "What's going on?" Belle yells from the back.

Ben walks around the truck with his arms folded, nodding to the driver as he passes. He appears on the side Belle is leaning against and appreciates the looks of horror that pass each of her friend's faces. Belle's mouth curls down into that perfect pout she got from her mom. It used to get her out of lots of trouble, but it's not going to work now.

"Dad..." She moans slowly, shoulders slumping. She's just barely finished pulling on her jacket.

Ben walks to the back of the truck and pulls on the lever to release the back of the truck. It falls down with a little thud and Ben takes a moment to glance over the teens in the backseat. Belle is sitting perpendicular on her date's lap with her back to the sides of the truck bed and her feet tangled up with her other friends from school. Tanner, Sophie, Preston, and Jackson are in the car, along with Mila, Carlos's daughter, and a couple other kids that she probably knows from school. It's not unlike how he and Mal used to go around with their friends back during everyone's college years when they were all twenty. The difference was that his parents always knew where he was going and who he was with. And then, most importantly, what time he and Mal would be separated for the night. (They didn't necessarily care about who got home first or where they went once they were separated, but if they were falling asleep somewhere together there would be a debt to pay later on.) And it was only with Mal since everyone knew from day one that he was committed to her. If Ben wanted to sleep over at Evie's, fine, but they also had to know where he and Mal would be and who would be watching them.

There had been times that his mom or dad had stopped him before going out with friends like this. His mom had grabbed his arm and threatened dismemberment if she heard he and Mal had snuck off anywhere the first time that they'd left in this manner. But that was always inside, not in front of friends like this.

Belle's date looks mortified to have been caught sneaking the princess out of the palace with said princess's arm around him. He carefully removes Belle's arm while flushing and avoiding Ben's gaze. Belle looks heartbroken as Ben gestures her forward by holding out his hand and flexing his fingers with a small nod to the palace. It's a trick he learned from Hades, and he's grateful for it. Belle deflates and picks up her backpack dejectedly. She stumbles over everyone's feet. Ben seizes her upper arm when she's close enough and helps her climb out. She only starts arguing once she's on the ground. "Dad, we're just going down to the pier. You never let me go out with anyone fun."

Ben crosses his arms. "No. I never let you go out with anyone who'll hurt you."

"They're not gonna hurt me!" Belle protests, flinging her arm out in the direction of the truck. "Why can't I go?"

"Because I also don't let you go out when you're grounded," Ben replies, raising one unimpressed eyebrow.

"Grounded?" Belle repeats, furrowing her brow together.

"Grounded," Ben repeats, turning her towards the palace and shoving her shoulder to move her forward. He hates having to play the mean parent, but he's not going to put up with her sneaking out. She's still a princess, no matter how much like her mom she is. He's not going to let her be hurt. "For lying and breaking our rules. Go to your room. I'll send your mom up in a moment and you can explain to her what you were trying to do."

He's sending Mal because all three children are scared of their mother when she's angry. Five minutes of scathing disappointment under his wife's glowing green gaze and Belle will never want to leave home again, much less without permission.

Belle hangs her head and begins her shameful walk back to the palace. Ben turns back to the kids in the truck. He glances at the second generation islanders first. "Your parents better know that you're out," He warns them. Then, he focuses on the scared-stiff boy in the back of the truck. "If you would like to take my daughter out," He begins, "You have to meet me first. That is the rule."

Ben then lifts the truck bed back and pushes it into place. He steps back and gestures for the truck to continue its trek, sans one, down the driveway. The teenagers pull away in silence.

The front door is left open, which would piss Ben off even more if Belle wasn't sitting on the bottom step, waiting for him with tears running down her face. "Dad, why'd you do that?" She hiccups. "You're being mean. None of my other friends have to have their parents meet every single person at the door. I just wanted to go out for an hour. I would have been back at sundown."

"Well, that would have been a much more appreciated sentiment before you were jumping in and yelling about how you needed to leave before your parents got out of office," Ben raises his eyebrows at her. "And Belle, none of your other friends are attached to the crown. People get famous off of dating princesses. People could want to hurt you as a token of pride. I'm not going to let someone take advantage of you."

Belle hiccups and scrubs at her eyes before she breaks down. "Can you please not tell mom?" She whispers. "I won't try again. Please?"

Ben almost gives in when he sees how pitiful she looks with black streaks running down her cheeks. This is still his baby princess who was so excited whenever he'd put plastic or paper crowns on her head at birthday parties and who was so proud when people started commenting about how much like her dad she looked instead of always saying she had Mal's green eyes and purple hair. But he tilts his head, knowing there's no way in Auradon or on the Isle he's not telling Mal about this, and gives her a soft look that makes her start to cry harder. She stands up, stomping her foot, and begins to climb the stairs in despair.

"Belle?" He calls before she can get very far, and she huffs as she turns back around. He holds out a hand. "Phone." He demands.

Belle screws up her face as she whips out her touchscreen and drops it into his hand. He slips it into his pocket and then she turns and storms away to her room.

Ben walks back up to his office to continue work. On the way up, he stops by Mal's office and drops Belle's phone on her desk. Mal looks up from where she's searching through a filing cabinet, squints at the phone, and then turns to him for an explanation. Since they can remote-access anything on their children's devices and need to make sure their children can always reach the palace, it's not often they remove cell phone privileges.

"What happened?" She asks in a dull tone.

"I took care of it," Ben assures her by way of explanation. "But I need you to do the punishment part." He puts his index finger down on Belle's phone as his way of telling Mal she's not allowed to have it.

"That bad?" Mal stares.

"Don't go dragon when you hear," He tells her. "And I would do it now so she doesn't get herself together only to fall apart again." Get the bad parts all over with so she doesn't have to cry herself out twice.

Mal snaps the filing cabinet closed and slips the phone into her pocket. "Bye," She says as she kisses his cheek and slips out. Ben watches her go with a sigh. Thank goodness he married an Isle girl and not an Auradon princess, otherwise, it'd be his job to frighten the kids into submission and he's not one to be able to withstand tears for long.

Goodness, how is he going to survive Belle's dating phase?

________________________________________________________________

Belle manages to have one or two successful, small, low-key group dates before Derik shows up on his doorstep. The kid has a buzz cut, acts as if he's a soldier, and when Belle cracks a joke at the front door, he doesn't get it. Ben sends them off with a wave and a roll of his eyes and doesn't say anything when Belle sneaks back in twenty minutes later, frustrated."At least she's slowly learning, right?" He tells Mal.

________________________________________________________________

Things get harder then. Belle has a running list of what she wants. Someone kind, someone who will compliment her outfit and open doors for her, someone who will check all her parent's boxes and who is funny and fun to talk to. She doesn't just accept dates with anyone because she's flattered they asked anymore or because they look nice. Now it's with friends and people she's known for a while. Which makes it a lot harder if Ben has to say no.

Her science lab partner shows up for dinner one night. Belle's two older brothers Zach and Tyler get a little confused when they see him. Zach travels a lot, doing things for the throne since he's 'technically' king now. Tyler works in town, managing a restaurant that he actually started at by washing dishes. So they both have been busy and kinda oblivious to the fact their kid sister is dating. It rocks them a little when they find out.

Babel is the kid's name. It throws Ben off for a second because he hasn't heard anyone with that name, but then he nods and offers the kid a chair and then shakes his head at Mal when Babel's back is turned. He already knows this isn't going to work out. Twenty minutes into dinner, he realizes why.

"So, you're third in line for the throne, right?" Babel asks Belle, cutting off her and Tyler's rendition of something they used to do together as kids. Ben feels Mal's hand hit the table before she moves it over to set her fingers over his, and he sighs internally. It's something that came up with each of their sons whenever they started talking to girls(and boys. Tyler has experimented a little). The matter of the crown.

Belle frowns a little. "Uh, kinda." She nods and then attempts to relaunch into her story.

"Kinda?" Babel asks. "What do you mean?"

Belle sighs. "Well, I'm not of age yet, so I can't be queen until then. So until I'm sixteen, my parents actually are in line before me. If something happened to Tyler or Zach, the crown would go back to them. But once either of them gets married, my right of inheritance gets bumped back. So if Zach married, his wife would be second. And if they had a kid, the baby would be third. And then Tyler would be fourth, dad fifth, mom sixth, and I'm last in line before you go to my grandparents."

"And then your husband after you?" Babel asks.

Belle frowns and has a million-and-one questions about the crown and the kingdom and what Belle's allowed to do and "have you ever used your status to bend the rules". It makes Ben sad because he can tell Belle liked this kid before he started trying to insinuate what her reaction would be if both of her brothers happened to go missing. He knows as his daughter leads Babel to the door that night, that he won't be seeing the boy again, and that it probably won't be the last time someone dates her for a shot at the throne of Auradon.

When Belle shuts the door and then slumps against it with a disappointed sigh, Ben steps up behind her and gives her a hug. "Dating is so hard!" She complains. "Can't I find someone who is nice and cute and who likes me and not the castle?"

Ben understands. He was once dating Audrey, after all. He sighs and squeezes her tighter. There's not a lot else he can do.

________________________________________________________________

They get a system, he and Mal do. As boy after boy with the occasional appearance of a girl appear and leave on their doorstep in varying degrees of failure, they both start picking up on signals and body language. And then there are predictions.

"She's not leaving the property," Mal whispers as they watch her get into a small coupe with a smashed-in passenger side door.

"She'll be back late," Ben hums when someone opens the door to a large, red truck and helps her in.

There's still the occasional time that someone unfavorable shows up, but all Ben has to do is glance between his daughter and the person outside, say "No", and she'll lead them away with a sigh. If they're particularly cute or nice, he'll get a whine of "Dad, why?", but she trusts him after the first few problems she had.

Still, she's a teenager, and she's growing surer of herself. Ben knows it can't be long before she starts to disregard his advice.

It finally happens one evening in October.

Two weeks from his and Mal's anniversary and Lumiere pages up to say someone has arrived for Belle. Ben goes down, opens the door, and finds himself peering into a pair of clear, blue eyes. Someone with tanned skin and curly black hair and bright eyes stands behind his door with a confident smile. He's all dressed up in slacks and a red button-down shirt and his teeth are whiter than paper. Ben feels a headache come on. This won't end well.

"Pleased to meet you, Your Majesty," the boy extends a hand to shake. "My name is Jayme. What can I call you?"

"Ben," Ben replies softly. He doesn't recognize his last name when it's called since it's so uncommon to use it. "Nice to meet you, Jayme. Belle hasn't come down yet. I'll walk up and get her. Feel free to come in and wait in the formal."

Jayme gets past the front door, which is an accomplishment in and of itself, and Ben walks up the stairs. He glances back to see what Jayme thinks of the place. He briefly examines the family portrait on the wall and then the rug under his feet, and then takes a deep breath and waits. A bad feeling churns in Ben's stomach.

He knocks on Belle's door and she calls for him to come it. She's sitting at her dresser, finishing applying a dark pink shade of lipstick. She looks classy and elegant with her black dress and her purple hair all curled.

"Your date is here," he calls, leaning against the doorframe.

"Oh, great!" Belle smiles as she turns back around. "You met him then? What did you think?"

"No," Ben shakes his head. The smile drops off of Belle's face. "No, sweetheart, he's not the right person yet."

"What's wrong with him?" Belle frowns. "Did he not introduce himself or something? He might be nervous - it's pretty intimidating having to meet the former king."

"Belle, I think you should stay in tonight," Ben sighs. He knows, though, from the tone of her voice, that she's dug her heels in. She's like her mom and both of her grandmothers. When she thinks she knows, she knows.

"No," Belle replies, a sound that breaks Ben's heart. "I'm looking forward to tonight. I know he'll take care of me and I know that we'll have a good time. And if he doesn't, then there's always magic and pepper spray and 1-2-1." She taps on her cell phone as a further reference to Auradon's emergency number.

Ben sighs and opens up the doorframe. She steps through, expression still sour, and then heads down to the foyer. Mal is there now. She's smiling and laughing as he and Jayme talk. He catches the punchline of a joke before Belle steps out into sight and heads down the stairs. Jayme's mouth falls open a little when he sees her, and a blush blooms across Belle's cheeks. He tells her she looks beautiful, kisses her hand, and offers her his arm. Mal looks proud.

Ben comes down the stairs and ignores Belle's pointed gaze as he loops his arm through Mal's. "Be home by eleven," he tells her and then shows them both to the door.

They watch Jayme escort Belle out to a silver car with a black interior that he opens with a smile. She smiles as she gets in and the twisting in Ben's heart increases.

"Well, I think she finally got it," Mal laughs as they close the door. "He's a really nice kid. I like him." She puts her arm around his waist and kisses his cheek. "What did you think?"

Ben shakes his head and puts an arm around her shoulders. "No," he says.

That's all he'll say on the matter.

________________________________________________________________

Belle comes back overjoyed. Everyone is regaled with tales of Tayme over breakfast, and her phone is constantly abuzz with messages from him. Mal is just as excited for her. Mom and daughter stay up late talking about Belle's new relationship and comparing it with Ben and Mal's from back when they were teens. Ben just shakes his head.

Two weeks later, on their third date, Jayme asks her to be his girlfriend. She changes her social media statuses and makes her new profile picture a shot of him kissing her on the cheek. Ben knows the night she has her first kiss with him because she stumbles through the front door grinning like a fool and almost crashes into the stair banister.

Magazines write stories of him and her together, the boys slowly warm up to him and welcome him into their circle and all the while Ben has this pit of dread expanding in his chest because he already knows that somehow, this relationship will end with Belle heartbroken.

Belle counts all the months with growing pride and glee. First one, then two, suddenly they're at four and then five, and then one day she's coming to him with a bright smile and putting a watch down on his desk with the question "Is this a good anniversary gift?" on her lips.

"Yes," he answers with a nod. "He'll like that a lot."

"You like him now, right Dad?"

Ben pinches his lips together and gives a forced sort of shrug. "He's not the one," he whispers, and Belle's face twists.

"I think he is!" She protests. "Come on, what did he do wrong?"

Ben shakes his head. It's not that the kid has done anything wrong - it's just he can't see this lasting. Jayme seems like a great kid, but he's not going to make her happy in the long run. Nothing will change that. Sure, he may know her favorite orders to all her favorite fast food places and knows the places he and Mal used to take their family while she was growing up and he might have been invited to spend Christmas Eve with the family and all of Mal's old friend's families, but Ben knows like he knew he'd die for her the day she was born that this is just not going to work.

Belle leaves in a huff and stops speaking to him. She must have assumed that Ben was slowly warming up to Jayme, and now she's angry to find otherwise. Mal comes to him then with questions like: "What's going on with you?" "Why don't you like him?" "Are you sure you're not just upset she's getting older?" She doesn't quite know what to make of his responses - he's calm, nonchalant, but adamant against Jayme.

Jayme himself comes up one day to talk with Ben. They walk out on the grounds and talk about Belle and Mal and everything under the sun. "Do you not like me?" Jayme asks, innocently enough.

Ben gives him a once-over. "I'm not against you personally," he tells the kid. "But you and my daughter aren't right for each other."

Jayme looks appropriately hurt. "I love her," he assures Ben, and Ben has to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "Is there any way I can convince you of that?"

Convince him? Belle is already convinced. He raises an eyebrow for a moment and then looks out over the clearing. "I've just been thinking of where she's planning to go," he lies to Tayme, testing the boy. "She came to Mal and I a few nights ago and said she might want to go live with her grandpa Hades when she gets older. Stay on the Isle and do service work out there."

Jayme stumbles back, shock falling over his face and horror frozen in his eyes. "What? But she-" he relaxes when he sees the look on Ben's face. "Oh. You were joking. Why?"

Ben shakes his head. He has his answer now. He knows. He closes his eyes and snorts. "Never mind," he replies. "What do you want to do when you're older?"

There's a lengthy response about how fascinated he is with politics and how he wants to especially work with displaced people from the former Isle of the Lost, but Ben ignores it all.

________________________________________________________________

The breakup comes three days before their six-month anniversary, and it is every bit as bad as Ben anticipated. It breaks everyone's heart except for his. Belle locks herself in her room sobbing hysterically, listening to every depressing love song she can think of and going through gigantic boxes of chocolate and cotton candy. Ben gets the full story across the pillows of his and Mal's bed that night as Mal does her own crying.

Apparently, there was a phone call about their anniversary that she'd said goodbye to and then neither of them had hit hang-up in time. She overheard his friends laughing about her. There had been a lot - enough for them to break up but not enough to have Tayme arrested for malicious intent towards the royal family. Something about how Belle was beautiful but ditsy. Easy to please. Quick to look past problems. Something about how it would be nice to be king. Live in the palace. Drive nice cars and wear nice clothes. Something about how the Former King didn't seem to like him, but he thought he'd come around.

"How did you know?" Mal asks, wiping the last of her tears away as she curls against his chest like she's a kitten instead of a dragon. "How did you know what he was?"

Ben can only shrug. "I think it was because he looked at the portrait in the front hall weird," he lies. In truth, he has no idea, but he has to give Mal some sort of reason so that she can feel justified for missing it.

He lets himself into Belle's room the next day to find her curled up inside five thick comforters, two and a half empty boxes of chocolate beside her, and a stuffed animal from when she was three. Beauty and the Beast is playing on her phone.

Ben untangles her and then they sit together on her bed. She curls into a ball that he holds to his chest as she cries her little soul out on his shoulder. It's a few hours that they sit like that, just healing from everything.

"You were right, dad," she hiccups a little. "I'll listen to you next time."

He doesn't get any satisfaction from that. On the contrary, he sighs and kisses her head and just squeezes her tighter as she cries.

________________________________________________________________

She starts bringing her phone to him when someone asks her out. It's a little weird at first, but his track record is pretty great. He can usually give her a shrug of "maybe" or a "no" within a few minutes. Belle still sometimes gets frustrated with the responses, but she doesn't question him anymore.

Mal regards him as if he possesses some sixth sense. It's pretty cool how impressed she is with him. Even though he's married her and there isn't really a reason to keep trying to impress her like he's still trying to catch her attention, he still gets overly proud of himself when she smiles like he's one of their children and she's proud of them. He made the right choice with this one.

Belle goes on a few dates here and there but nothing serious while she's still recovering from her betrayal.

Belle turns seventeen in April. It's been more than a year since she first tried to bring home that first kid, and Ben has to pause to ponder his own state at seventeen. Seventeen was after he had already met Mal. Seventeen was when she almost went back to the Isle and he'd chased after her, having his suspicions that she was "his person". He got that confirmation in the self-same year. He's glad that Belle isn't like him and that she hasn't fallen so hard at so young. Sure, it worked out pretty well for him and Mal and it would sure solve a lot of the "what if" questions they all have now, but he doesn't quite think she's ready for the kind of commitment he and Mal had from a very early point. To be fair, he and Mal had to have a lot of commitment - she was coming from the Isle of the Lost and denouncing her mother on live television and he had passed a law that allowed her to be in Auradon and had publicly dumped Audrey to date her. Also, she drugged him. Something he still likes to tease her about.

He has to give a lot of credit to his parents because if Belle brought home someone like Mal(or even if Zach or Tyler brought home someone like Mal), he'd be more than a bit wary. To bring in a girl who kept knives up her sleeves and who more often than not kept her mother's spellbook tucked inside her jacket and then to bring in the story of how she gave him a spelled cookie to try and destroy Auradon before accidentally tripping over everything she'd been taught and falling in love with him. He hopes he'd have the same patience they did.

For Belle's seventeenth birthday party, they close off the woods that hold the enchanted lake, string up thousands of colorful lights in the trees, and then bring in tons of food and people. Evie, Jay, and Carlos all show up with their families in tow and it cheers Belle up to be around everyone else's families. They're all like cousins, those kids, because Mal and the rest of her "core four" are like siblings. Carlos was even the family member who gave Mal away to him at their wedding. He and Jay had fought over that right until Mal had implored Ben to find an alternative task for one of them and thus Evie had been the maid of honor, Carlos had walked Mal down, and Jay had been Ben's best man.

Ben doesn't know most of the people at the party. He recognizes a few kids that either Zach or Tyler or Belle have dated and he knows people from the courts that he had to deal with back when he was king and then there are a few old friends from Auradon Prep that make his children uncomfortable when they bring up old memories of their parents at school.

Zach and Tyler both bring their girlfriends. Zach is in his mid-twenties and has been dating Audrey's daughter for quite some time, which cracks both Ben and Mal up. They seem to like each other though, and Ben doesn't have anything against the girl. He just thinks it'll be a huge laugh between him, Audrey, and Mal if they end up getting married. Tyler has dated furiously, skipping around with different girls and boys(the greenest face Ben ever saw on Mal was the night he announced he was going out on a date with Uma's daughter) but his current fling is one of the girls from his graduating class who Ben rather likes. Her name is Faith, which is one of the names Ben requested for Belle back when she was born (along with Joy, Hope, and Charity, but he couldn't sway Mal to agree to any of his good-intentioned names).

Tyler and Faith swing around the buffet table and then come sit beside Ben and Mal. Ben has to chuckle at their choice of snacks. Faith obsesses over peaches and thinks they are the most delicious things to have ever existed. Meanwhile, Tyler...

"Give me some," Mal demands as soon as she sees his plate piled high with chocolate-covered strawberries. She reaches out to steal some, but Tyler shields his plate from her.

"No, mom!" He protests. "Go get your own!"

As Mal and Tyler began a squabble over Tyler's right to his chocolate strawberries("I'm your mother! You're supposed to take care of me!" "You have two legs and two hands! You get your own!"), Ben reaches out and shakes Faith's hand. She's chuckling a little and smiling as her boyfriend and his mom interact, and her smile grows a little wider as she smiles at Ben. He wishes that Belle could find someone and have things as easy as the boys have it.

Belle strolls over as the place is getting dark and the lights start looking like fairies hiding in the trees. She sits down so close to him that he couldn't even set his hand down if he wanted to and then drops her head onto his shoulder. She's exactly the same way Mal is when her mom gets tired. She just wants someone to hold her.

"What's got your goose?" He whispers, sliding his arm out from under her head and putting it around her shoulders.

Belle huffs and little tendrils of smoke escape her nostrils. Ben suspects she and Tyler, who also inherited Mal's purple hair, both have the ability to shapeshift into dragons, but since everything has been peaceful since the barrier fell, they haven't had to experiment too much with their powers. The closest either has come is when Tyler accidentally set a tree and then a field on fire when he went out drinking with friends for the first time a week after his twenty-first birthday. The kid holds alcohol about as well as Ben can, whereas Zach can retain his dignity no much how thick his BAC. He and Mal will always retreat to corners at parties to drink and talk - mostly about Zach's own childhood - while anyone who can't drink and remain conscious, like Ben and Tyler, keep away.

"Jayme said he was working on a song for my birthday," Belle confides in a small whisper, bringing Ben back to the present. "I'm just wondering what it would have been like."

"Probably more painful once you found out," Ben reasons softly, but he knows that isn't quite the answer she's searching for. He runs his fingers through her hair as she sighs dejectedly and curls up against his side.

He watches Zach lead Amber down a path closer to the enchanted lake. Their arms are linked together as they walk down. Zach pulls the crown off his head as soon as they leave the crowds and instead hangs it on his arm. Amber reaches up to ruffle his hair with a laugh and it throws Ben off a bit because she usually acts a lot like her mother, and Audrey would never have done that to him when they dated. Of course, Amber was Tyler's friend before she was Zach's girlfriend, so she's a great deal looser than her mother.

Belle gives a little, unhappy sigh at his side as Tyler jumps away from Mal's reach and then Faith appears with a second, more reasonable plate of strawberries for Mal. Mal sighs in happiness and then nudges Tyler. "Where can I trade you out for her?" She jokes.

"Give it a few years," Ben advises. "Maybe you can have both."

Faith blushes a deep red and hides her face as Tyler tilts his head, considering. Mal laughs - she knows he only teases them because of how badly they were teased for getting engaged so early in their lives.

Ben runs his fingertips through Belle's hair and hums. "You are my sunshine," He sings. "My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey."

Belle snorts and then hides her face in his shirt. "That's beautiful, Dad," She chuckles. "I love you."

On Ben's other side, Mal slumps into his chest. He chuckles and moves his arm to be around both of his spunky, spitfire girls. Mal drops a strawberry stem onto the ground before setting her hand against his chest.

Across the way, through the trees and underneath a patch of pink lights Ben suddenly notices a young man sitting all alone on a bench with a homemade card in his hands. He sits, staring at the ground, with his shoulders hunched and hands braced on his knees. Ben pokes Mal's side and she yelps as she comes to life under his touch. He points across the way and sees Mal squinting to follow his gaze. It only takes a moment of hesitation before he pokes Belle's side too. "Look at that young man over there," He directs. "Do you know him?"

Belle blinks a little and then turns around to see who he's talking about. "I think so," She nods. "We have English and French together. He's very smart."

"He looks lost," Ben hums.

Belle nods in agreement. "He does," She affirms, and then gets to her feet. "I think I'll go talk to him."

Mal sets her hand on his knee as soon as Belle is out of earshot. "Look at you, playing matchmaker," She teases. Ben furrows his brow. That wasn't quite his intention, actually.

Belle sits down beside the boy without announcing herself and when he looks up, he jumps. They exchange pleasantries. The boy hands her the card with a shaking hand. Belle takes it, opens it, and her entire face lights up as she reads the contents. She says something, and he laughs, and then something new that Ben hasn't felt with any of her flings up until this point takes place in his chest. Peace.

This is going to be okay.

________________________________________________________________

A week later, Ben opens the door to let Auden inside the palace. The poor boy stumbles over the doorstep, looking around with wide, uncomfortable eyes. He swallows and then slowly extends a hand to Ben. "Hello, uh, sir," he stutters. "I'm Auden. I was hoping I could take Belle out tonight if, uh, it's okay with you?"

Ben smiles as he shakes Auden's trembling, sweaty hand. No one has asked him yet. "Hello Auden," He greets. "You can call me Ben, and yes, Belle will be down in a second."

Mal comes in from the front entryway and Auden shakes her hand too - something else that no one has bothered to do. Mal's hand is more often kissed, which annoys her to no end. She prefers handshakes and it shows as she smiles in approval at the young man in the entryway. Ben cracks a little joke that she only bites in dragon form and the kid laughs a little as Mal rolls her eyes.

There's a sound from up the stairs and then Belle appears with her hair down, wearing one of Mal's old Isle jackets and black slacks. She looks pretty with her makeup minimal and her smile bright. Auden's mouth falls open and he makes several gasping sounds in the back of his throat. "O-oh!" He exclaims. "You look so - just so beautiful! Wow!"

Belle blushes just like he does, dipping her head and trying to keep her smile from spreading even wider. Auden offers her his arm when she gets to the bottom of the stairs and Mal crosses her arms in silent approval. This kid is hitting every spot the others missed - checking every box. And for the first time, Ben doesn't feel worried or anxious about this. Even if they don't end up working out, it'll be on good terms. This kid isn't going to take advantage of her or ignore her or use her status to get where he wants. He's going to make her feel special.

And heaven help her if Belle doesn't do exactly the same thing.

"This place is so big!" Auden marvels, looking all around. "I'd get lost here."

Belle nods. "I'm thinking of moving out one day," she confides. "That's what my older brother did. I might go live on the Isle beside my Grandpa Hades."

"That'd be cool," Auden nods. "I haven't ever been to the Isle."

"We should go sometime," Belle suggests. "Mom took us all while we were growing up. I could tell you lots of stories about her."

Ben and Mal stand in the doorway as Auden and Belle head out. Auden makes sure to shake both of their hands again on the way out and thank them for letting him take their daughter out and promise to walk her to the door afterward. Another thing no one has even thought to do. They catch snippets of conversation as he takes her down to a beat-up blue civic in the driveway and opens the door for her and helps her in. "She'll be back late," Mal hums against his shirt, leaning her head into his shoulder.

Ben snorts a little and squeezes her tighter to him as the car starts and then slowly turns out onto the road. "You know," he begins with a chuckle, "I think we might survive the dating phase after all."

[szopenhauer]

Walking into a party, what’s the first thing you look for? someone I know lmfao also a toilet Who was the last person you ate with? my mom, sister and niece

What do you do when you’ve had a bad day? depends Kiss on the first date? maybe Have you ever had a best friend who was of the opposite sex? yes Are you too shy to tell people when you’re developing feelings for them? wouldn’t say so If you could pack up and leave to move away, would you? yeah Do you wish you were with someone right now? I wish my dad was already home and everybody else OUT or just leave me alone, I wouldn’t mind my gf’s company much either How many more people do you think you’ll kiss before you die? nobody else unless CPR will count if I will ever need it Do you like messing with people when they’re drunk? nothing rude/dangerous  Whats a song you absolutely hate? Gangnam style for example Your opinions on bi people? most of them end up in heterosexual relationships anyway because it’s easier  Song playing right now? Melanie Martinez songs Has anyone ever mistaken you for someone else? my mom and sister

What color dominates your wardrobe? dunno

Do you prefer color photos or black-and white? color, black and white or sepia only if they’re really old - elseway they usually remind me of death What color is your house? What about car? white What color “emotion” are you feeling right now? I’m feeling blue? Have you ever seen a double rainbow before? yep, even this year Do you own anything that is rainbow-colored? like one item that I don’t even use anymore Do you enjoy coloring? not really

If you had the chance to get the cast of any canceled tv show back together to make one “reunion” season, would you? Or do you think it’s better remembering it the way it was? If so, what show would you choose? BUFFY!

Do you find music helps you sleep? Which type of music do you sleep to? recently it helps me survive until I feel sleepy enough to not overthink/cry/get anxiety attacks

Would you try to hold back your tears if you were attending a funeral? I didn’t cry but I believe it depends on who’s funeral it is

If you could be one age forever, how old would you be? I just want to be a kid

Do you have a particular shoe brand you favor over others? nah

If you had the choice, what would your final words be? telling my loved ones that I love them

What is one thing you always wanted as a child, but never received? big stuffed black panther and a treehouse mostly

What social situations tend to make you most nervous?  all of them?...

What is one medical myth you’re tired of hearing? for an example that severe illnesses are visible all the damn time

Do you like making up nicknames for people? love, they’re catchy and other ppl start to use them to :D

Delete a year of your life, or start over in a new town? deleting one year wouldn’t help unless it was a year I was born like in Shrek movie...

What do you call your grand-parents? babcia 

What’s your favorite song by Taylor Swift? Why is that your favorite? the only one I liked was Bad blood mostly because of the music video

What do you think about your hair right now? ugh...

Do you do your homework at the last minute? oh well...

Would you rather get a new brother or sister? new as in a way of replacement or another?

Have you ever used a Polaroid camera? I wanna buy one someday

What is your favorite thing to do online? lots 

Have you ever gone to see a movie just to make fun of it? that’s stupid

Would you rather watch Family Guy or South Park? Simpsons

Does it bother you when people wear pajamas out? I’d do that myself :3

Have you ever tried online dating? How did it go? I tried and every single “relationship” failed, not that there were many of them, I met plenty of people that I wish I didn’t tho

Who was the last person you took a picture with? my sister and niece but shadows only 

Do your parents allow smoking in your house? nooo

Is your last name shorter than your first name? longer

Last two numbers in your phone number? personal

Who’s in your house? my fam just went to the garden and I have a moment of silence, finally

What magazine(s) do you look at the most? interior design

Are you paranoid? kind of

What item should never be shared? toothbrush, bloody period pad, underwear, towel, used piece of toilet paper, gum that someone already had in their mouth etc.

Do you sleep with a fan on? I don’t even own a fan

How many plants are in your home? too many

Do you ever type “kik” instead of “lol”? it never happened :o

Do you know how to play chess? forgot

Are you picky? about some stuff, sure

How tall is the person you like?  tall, much taller than me

Are you excited for winter? if I was then only for Christmas or New year eventually my birthday but it’s doubtful

If it was free and it would work perfectly, would you get plastic surgery? but it ain’t safe and painless etc.

Have you ever been called prince or princess? I dislike that

Do you like your body? pfft

What do you hear right now? dog barking

Last thing you wrote your name on? documents 

Where did you get the pants you’re wearing right now? I don’t even remember anymore

When is the next time you will see your grandma? ...

What is it tomorrow? Sunday

Have you ever laughed at someone because they had a funny name? not face to face, I heard some funny names during mass or my mom told me about them and I saw some online or in movie credits Speaking of names, why do celebrities always call their kids stupid ones? to be unique If you have a problem with someone, will you confront them? maybe

Are you more likely to be called a hard worker or lazy? lazy What is your sense of humor like? quite dark, sarcastic, dry, witty, puns, daddy jokes, memes Have you ever had a dream in black and white? I don’t recall What about a dream with no sound? it’s possible What types of people do you tend to avoid? ... all of them? What is one personality trait a potential friend must have? understanding and similar sense of humor Have you ever been in a helicopter? no What color car would you like to have? DeLorean is grey but if I had a jeep then yellow, red, gree, black or silver

What is your favorite mode of travelling? on foot or train, definitely not plane Are your favorite characters often what the majority like? I hardly ever like the main character so I doubt it but who knows? Is it dark outside right now? not yet Do you get scared when it’s a full moon? when I’m outside it’s bothering If you travel anywhere, do you always buy souvenirs for people? often Are you waiting on anyone coming home right now? YES Do you like the way your voice sounds? nope Can you see the stars from your house? not currently but at night - if it’s not cloudy - yup How would you react if your favorite band made a song with your first name as its title? awesome! unless it was real bad Are you considered an awkward person? it seems Is there a light on in the room you’re in? too bright for that  What day were you born on? Saturday, my mom said I shouldn’t be lazy then but I responded with - I was half an hour late for Friday Do you like having a favorite everything or do you enjoy keeping open? I often say I have a lot of favorites of things as I have a hard time choosing just one for most of them

How often do you feel pressured to be better than or different than you are? For example, how often do you feel pressured to be skinner, tanner, prettier, etc? Keep in mind that pressure doesn’t always have to come from others; In fact, we can put a lot of pressure on ourselves. ugh...

Would you rather it snow for three days or rain for a week? rain for a week if it didn’t cause the flood 

Have you ever changed the look of a survey because you didn’t like the way it was presented? This can even include adding or deleting numbers to the questions. many times

Does it bother you when surveys ask questions that Google could answer? I agree

When is the last time you had a cell phone that wasn’t a smartphone, if ever? 3 years ago

Do you know anyone who can speak more than 5 languages fluently? noooo

Would you rather write an essay on global warming or UFOs? UFO

Do you like sailing? When was the last time you went, if at all? never been and don’t wanna Favourite Pokemon? Mimikyu and Pikachu Do you or have you done martial arts? Which type? karate, self defence

Favorite animal. raccoon

Any turn ons? personal

3 most important people in your life right now? my dad, my gf and my mom

Do you respond to texts quickly? depends

Who was the last person you called? dad

Winter or summer? summer

What is the secret to a happy life? good health, enough money, peace and quiet, either no people around or only good ones, no worries/problems

What are some phrases/words you say often? MAYBE

What are some of your greatest fears? personal

Spicy food:Like or dislike? my stomach doesn’t like spicy food

Do you like to travel? nope

Do you like rain? yup

Would you rather visit the past or the future? future to see if it’s worth living for - past if not to enjoy once more what I lost

How often do you go to parties?  never?...

Do you think you’re ambitious? I know I’m not

What makes you nervous? what doesn’t?...

First mobile phone? grey Siemens

Do you like sharing? sharing what?

What was the last picture you took with your phone? single tiny cloud

If you had one word to describe yourself, what would it be? ME

Are you more creative or logical? why can’t I be both?

Would you rather lie or hurt someone with the truth? I don’t know anymore

When you imagine yourself as really, really relaxed and happy, what are you doing? sleeping well and having a good dream?

What is the best news you could hear right now? that I have no allergies

[a-soul-among-the-stars]

All Mixed Up - Chapter 1

Stereotype Switch AU

Warnings: Anxiety, Bullying, Depressing Thoughts, Overuse of Italics

Notes: This is based on @romantichopelessly‘s Stereotype Switch AU

Summary: It’s the first day of the second semester, and Virgil is just trying to survive High school. It’s not easy when you only have one real friend and one not-so-real personality.

Chapter 2

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If you want me to add you to the taglist, just shoot me an ask or a message!

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Chapter 1

Virgil Prince

Virgil loved his family. He really did. But why did they have to be so loud?

He had four… exuberant siblings (for lack of a better word), and every morning was the same. They’d all wake up at 6:30 in the morning, clamoring around the house, attempting to get ready. Well, most of them did. Virgil rolled over to look at his baby sister, Mia, who was standing up and looking at him, waiting for him to get her dressed. Virgil and Mia shared a bedroom while his other sister and brothers shared another one. Their parents slept by themselves.

Virgil huffed, sitting up to smile at his patiently waiting sister. Sometimes Virgil thought Mia was the smartest of the whole family. He stood up to pick her up from her crib, bouncing her on his hip while he picked out clothes from her side of the dresser. He then set her on his bed to get dressed quickly before carrying her downstairs to the kitchen.

Downstairs was chaos, but that was no different than usual. Setting Mia in her highchair, Virgil grabbed five bowls, spoons, a carton of milk, and an array of cereal options. Sometimes he would make eggs, but he was too exhausted for that. Some idiot on the football team was goofing around and got them all in trouble, causing his practice to run late, causing Virgil to be late picking up his siblings, causing his parents to go off on a rant about ‘responsibility’ or whatever. Virgil loved his parents, he really did, but sometimes he wondered if they were ever kids. They were probably born adults.

Humming in amusement and satisfaction with this idea, he called everyone for breakfast.

Quicker than lightning at the mention of food, three, now angel-looking, children appeared in their seats. Virgil rolled his eyes, pouring out everyone’s choice cereal options. Eating his breakfast, Virgil thought about his upcoming day. 

He had a new project he had to start in science today. Every semester, students switched some classes (a part of one of the school’s “brilliant” ideas to help students make new friends, Virgil was sure) and Virgil’s science class had been one of his that had changed. The new semester started today, and Virgil knew that Mrs. Owens always assigned a group project to a new class. He hoped he’d get a better group than last time. He had gotten two of his teammates and a kid that didn’t talk much. His teammates spent the whole class time teasing the poor kid while Virgil secretly helped with the work, the quiet kid coming over to his house after school. He had eventually learned that the kid’s name was Elliot, and they were actually pretty sweet. Virgil hated that the people he was so-called “friends” with meant he couldn’t talk to people like Elliot.

Shaking off his anxiety for the project, Virgil collected everyone’s dishes, loading them into the almost-full dishwasher.

He made sure everyone was fully dressed and ready before telling them to get their backpacks on. He waved goodbye to his mom, who was coming out of the bedroom, already on the phone and looking stressed.

Virgil walked his siblings to the bus stop, Telling them all goodbye when their individual busses came. Aiden and Annalise, Virgil’s brother and sister (they were twins) left first, waving as the bus pulled away, on its path to the elementary school. Carter’s bus arrived next, transporting him to the middle school. As he waved goodbye, Virgil started his path to the daycare center a few blocks from his house. He was only able to drop Mia off because it was on his way to school.

Once she was checked in with Cora, the daycare supervisor, Virgil put in his earbuds to listen to music and help pass the time. It certainly helped, and in what felt like no time at all, Virgil arrived at the horror show often known as school. It was only a few minutes before the warning bell so he went straight to his locker. He checked his schedule to make sure he had stuff for the right classes and all of his homework, because, while he might not care too much about grades (except for athletic reasons), public humiliation from his peers and disappointment from his parents were two very real possibilities. While sports may have helped to boost his outward confidence, on the inside, he was still a small, scared person, all too influenced by what his peers thought.

A locker near his slamming shut brought his thoughts out of the hole they had started to spiral down. Focus, he told himself. They’ll never know if you fake the confidence. Do you want to go back to your previous social status? No? That’s what I thought. 

He sighed tiredly, shutting his locker tightly before walking to class, backpack thrown over one shoulder. He glanced around, spotting a tall boy in a red sweatshirt. “Hey, Jake!” Jake perked up and grinned, running to catch up to Virgil. They talked on the way to their first class, American History. Virgil was nervous the whole time that he would say something wrong, but Jake was definitely one of the nicer jocks. They were talking about the science project, how Jake also hoped for a better group, when they arrived at the classroom and took their seats in the back. 

They joked around until class started, then passed a sheet between them to continue a silent conversation. They took notes when necessary, but since it was a new semester, it was mostly going over the rules of the class. It was a good way to start the day, letting Virgil relax a bit and actually feel some of his previously fake confidence.

Of course, that was when it went wrong.

Class had just ended and Virgil and Jake were leaving the room when there was a slam from down the hallway, along with a shout of, “I’m talking to you, fairy!”

The two friends sped up a bit to see what was going on, only to see Trey Tanner walking next to a short boy. Trey was the tallest boy on the football team and was practically the leader of all of the jocks; a group Virgil regretted to admit he was a part of. The kid that Trey was teasing was very small. He couldn’t have been much taller than 5 feet, and it didn’t help that he was hunched in on himself, shoulder forward and head ducked. He wore a grey and white sweater with rainbows on the sleeves, a grey skirt, and grey and white converse with rainbow laces. A butterfly clip held his hair out of his eyes. He was clutching a book to his chest.

Trey kept blocking his way, taunting him and pushing him. He was clearly looking for some sort of reaction but he got none, and it was clearly frustrating him. He finally blew up, grabbing the book out of his hands, throwing it down the hallway towards Virgil and Jake. He whispered something in his ear that made him flinch and stormed off.

Virgil sighed, glad that Trey had left. He hated that he didn’t feel comfortable helping people with Trey around, but it was a habit by now. 

He bent down and picked up the book that had landed at his feet, smoothing out the cover. Matilda, he read. He walked over to the kid and handed it to him. The shorter of the two looked up in surprise, beautiful, deep blue eyes shining with fear and confusion behind his thick-rimmed glasses. His face turned slightly pink and he took the book quickly, muttering a quick thanks before rushing off.

“What was that all about?” Jake had caught up with Virgil without him noticing. The latter shrugged, not knowing how to answer the same question he was currently asking himself.

——————–

The next few hours passed rather quickly, Virgil silently thanking whoever created the schedules that he shared several other classes with Jake. He also shared a class with Trey (which sucked), and he heard him laughing about the “fairy” he was teasing earlier, saying he might beat him up later if he felt like it. It was disgusting, honestly, how Trey treated some of the people in this school.

Finally, it was time for science, the last class before lunch. He was quietly excited for this class, wanting to know his group for the first couple weeks of class. The group also decided who you were going to sit with for the remainder of the semester. If you got a good group you were lucky. Mrs. Owens usually assigned groups using random methods, such as picking names or spinning a wheel. But Mrs. Owens was a very creative soul, you never know what might be up her sleeve.

Arriving in the science room, Virgil saw several students were standing around the outside of the room, most likely having been instructed to do so by Mrs. Owens, who was standing behind her desk, shuffling through some papers. He joined those standing, picking a spot near the corner, next to another dude on the football team. They exchanged a fist bump as a greeting before each taking out their respective phones. As more people filed in, Virgil’s excitement and anxiety peaked. Most of his thoughts centered around two main points; Who will it be? and AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH. 

Yeah, he was a bit anxious.

The final bell finally rang, signaling the end of the passing period. One last student ducked through the door, a tall kid in a too-big hoodie. They sighed, probably in relief, before closing the door behind them. 

Mrs. Owens smiled at everyone, starting the hour with a greeting of, “Good morning, everyone!” most people chorused their own ‘good morning’s back, others rolling their eyes in annoyance. 

“So,” she began, eyes sparkling behind her glasses. “Today is the first day of the new semester, and all of you know what that means!” There were a few groans and mutters, both excited and otherwise, from the class. Mrs. Owens smiled at the class, a knowing look on her face.

“I know that many of you may be anxious for your groups, so I have devised a plan that may change things a bit. If not, it will at least level the playing field a bit. As much as most adults may try to ignore it, I am well aware of the cliques and groups inside this school. Thus, I am, along with picking groups for the project, conducting a sort of social experiment. Every group contains people from different defined cliques in the school, and I have done my best to get a variety of personalities in each group as well. So, without further ado, I will announce the groups for this semester’s group project!”

Mrs. Owens’ speech didn’t do much to ease his anxiety, but it did pique his interest. At least it meant he wouldn’t get stuck with other, less productive jocks. She pulled a sheet from the stack next to her, beginning to read it off. As he listened to the list being read, he listened to names he knew, not hearing many. Once in a while, he saw someone he recognized from the halls or football practice move to a table.

“Group 4: Patton Algarotti, Roman Crofter, Logan Perez, and Virgil Prince.” There it was. He didn’t recognize any of the names, which was probably a good sign. He steeled himself, moving over to sit at the table. He caught Trey’s eyes from across the room, and he was looking at him with a pitying smirk. Virgil shot a confused look back, before turning back to his table, finally seeing his group mates.

Oh.

The boy next to him was the same one that Trey had been bullying before. He still had the book clutched to his chest, seeming to hold it a bit tighter than before.

The other two people he didn’t recognize much other than from passing them in the hall. One of them was the kid who had come in late, the one in the too-big hoodie. His hair was dyed a light blue at the ends and he had bags under his eyes, most likely from lack of sleep. His shoulders were slumped slightly and he looked ready to drop. The other kid was wearing a short-sleeved black button-up and a red tie. He didn’t have glasses, but he looked like the kind of person who would buy them just to complete the look. He had a serious, almost bored expression on his face and he seemed like he’d rather be anywhere else at the moment. An interesting group. He thought, suppressing a sarcastic smile. He sighed; best to start by breaking the ice.

“I’m Virgil Prince. I’m 17, and I play football.” He smiled tightly, almost a smirk. “Who’s next?”

The boy across from him sighed, introducing himself. “Patton Algarotti, 16. I write sometimes.”

The nerdy-looking boy went next. “I am Roman Crofter. I’m 17 and I enjoy reading.”

The boy next to Virgil went last. “I’m Logan Perez. I’m 15 and I like music.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows. This boy must be pretty smart. He was surprised that Logan was the one who had apparently skipped a grade and not Roman; he looked more like the type who would have. 

He shook off the thought. He should know by now not to judge a book by its cover, but it was difficult. High school was full of stereotypes that ended

“Okay everyone,” Mrs. Owens spoke from the front of the room again. “I trust everyone has at least greeted their tablemates, so we’re going to get started! We won’t begin the planning process until later this week, so today we’re going to play a getting-to-know-you game!”

Everybody dragged their chairs in a big circle in the middle of the room to their teacher’s instruction. She stood in the middle of the circle, turning to look at every one. “Alright, this is a classic get-to-know-you game. One person stands in the middle and says something that others might relate to. For example, I could say ‘I like playing soccer’ and everyone who enjoys playing soccer would have to get up and switch seats. If you get caught standing with no other seats, you go in the middle. Who would like to go first?”

They played the game for the entire hour, Virgil actually learning some things about his groupmates. He found out that both Roman and Logan had an enjoyment for musicals, Patton liked comedy, and all three of them loved Harry Potter (a thing Virgil lied about when he didn’t stand).

The bell rang after a while of playing, signaling the end of the period and the beginning of lunch. Mrs. Owens called out a reminder to brainstorm project ideas over the ruckus of chairs being put away. The crowd of high schoolers pushed through the classroom door, jostling and shoving each other to get to their tables. There were technically no assigned seats, but everyone had them anyways. It was kind of cool sometimes. Virgil just wished he had a better seat.

Virgil sat a table that mostly consisted of the football team. The star players sat at one end, and their friends and teammates filled the rest. Every table went under a different stereotype; the jocks, the preps, the nerds, the misfits, and the outcasts. Every clique stayed to themselves and rarely did someone belong in multiple social groups. There were two tables for jocks (the football and soccer teams respectively). There was only one table for nerds, about three for preps (based on popularity and status), and two main tables for the misfit groups. The outcasts were spread throughout the rest of the cafeteria. 

While standing in line, Virgil easily located where his groupmates sat. Patton and Roman were sitting across from each other at the end of the nerd table, a space next to each of them that disconnected them from the others. Logan sat in the back of the cafeteria, sitting alone and reading his book. Virgil felt a twinge of guilt toward the three. Then he realized the line had started moving forward again, and he, once again, shook himself out of his own head. 

A few minutes later, now armed with a plastic plate of poison, someone got his attention.

“Yo, V” Virgil internally cringed. The only person who called him ‘V’ was-

“Hey, Trey, what’s up?” Trey scared him, but Virgil still forced himself to act casual. Trey saw him as a friend, an ally, even though Virgil actually hated him. But Trey didn’t need to know that.

“Me and a couple boys are gonna beat up this kid after school. Wanna join in?” No matter how many times Virgil declined, Trey couldn’t take the hint that bullying others wasn’t his thing. He didn’t want to hurt others, unlike Trey. 

“No, my parents are making me take care of my siblings.”

Trey groaned, “Again?”

“Well, I do have four of them.” Trey sighed and rolled his eyes.

“That makes sense. Another time then.” And without waiting for another answer, he walked away.

Virgil shook his head, half in confusion, half in exasperation. Trey never listened to him before, he didn’t know why he expected anything to change. Virgil collapsed down next to Jake, pushing his lunch forward to hit his head on the table. Jake just calmly pat his back as he took a bite of his sandwich.

——————–

At the end of the school day, Virgil found himself wandering around the school. His siblings didn’t need to be picked up for an hour or so, so he had time to spare. He was lost in thought, wondering how his project was going to go this semester. It was only the first day; they wouldn’t even be picking a subject for a while, but Virgil still felt anxious. Then again, when wasn’t Virgil anxious? It seemed like a common presence in his head.

Not that he could let anyone know about that. Not even Jake, his only friend in this Hell of a school. Virgil didn’t want to risk the only true friendship he had with his stupid feelings. 

There was, however, a tiny voice in the back of his head. Barely more than a whisper, like the sound of a feather falling to the earth. Like a cat’s whiskers rubbing together. Nothing more than a breath being let out. It was rarely heard, and even less often was it listened to. This voice told him it was okay to feel these things. It was normal and perfectly fine to have negative feelings. Virgil loved this voice, but it was never the loudest one. The black shadow of fear usually clouded over it, nearly erasing it altogether. 

So Virgil listened to his fears, and in doing this, became the very thing he had feared most. Being a tall, lanky emo kid, he was often bullied. His insecurities took over, pushing him to join sports. He found he was actually quite good at them. So he dropped his hoodie and makeup, adopting a new look, and a new personality. He scored with the right people, making it to the top. And yet, sometimes he wished things could go back to the way they were in middle school. He’d had friends. Good ones, too. But high school changed them, leaving him behind. So he did the same.

Virgil turned another corner, coming to an empty hallway. He sighed and turned around, going the other direction instead.

Until he was hit by a small moving wall.

It didn’t knock him over, but the student who had walked into him was walking at a quick pace, knocking him back slightly. The short boy looked up at him, surprised.

It was Logan again, looking like he was about to fall apart. Virgil held back a joke ‘we really have got to stop running into each other like this’, instead going to ask if he was okay. Logan had a blossoming bruise on his cheek, under his left eye. His hair was slightly messy and he looked a bit disoriented. But before Virgil could even start, Logan turned around and ran off. 

As Virgil watched after him, worried, a realization hit him upside the head, knocking all previous thoughts loose. 

‘Oh no, he’s really cute.’

——————–

All Mixed Up Taglist:

@romantichopelessly

@acompletemusicalnerd

If you want to be added, just let me know!

[ashleyswrittenwords]

How To Be A Queen [Part 6]

Note: The hurricane sucked, but I am back with another chapter and buried with homework :) 

Summary: Princess Zelda is at a loss. Her handed royal responsibilities have begun to weigh heavily on her and she is eventually backed into a corner. Live a life she loathes or run away from everything she’s ever known? Navigating life is hard, and Link forces her to learn that she doesn’t have to do it alone.

Warning: None

Previous

Next

Part 1

How To Be A Queen

"I'm a little perturbed," I said, shaking the dirt off my dark cloak. It had slipped off the bed during the night and the floors most definitely weren't the cleanliest surface in the establishment.

"Perturbed?" Link didn't bother to look up. He was sliding his newly sharpened sword in its sheath. Had he slept with it?

"Yes. A little thrown off I suppose," I yawned, it was so early! I was half awake. Link had brought me a tin cup of instant coffee with an apology on his lips when he woke me. It would have been touching if it wasn't at the crack of dawn. It felt like I had barely closed my eyes. "Why don't we have a horse?"

My feet were sore and I could feel some semblance of blisters forming in the boots I was lacing up. It was as if my feet remembered being sore and just picked up where they left off. I felt like an old woman. "While you were deep in contemplation," Link began answering, "General Nohansen told me not to take any of the horses."

"Why though?" We began walking towards the exit. Link nodded at the stable keepers on the way out and we were on our way. Back on a worn path to a place I still didn't know. Regardless, I was content with that.

"Because the horses at the castle were all pure bred and their breed just happens to be specific to the royal cavalry. It's not common that you see two peasant villagers wander about Hyrule on those."

"Are we peasant villagers now?" I asked smiling to myself.

"Would you rather be something else?"

"No, I just don't know what it's like," I said, spinning around the pan. Link was the bodyguard, the pack mule, and the tour guide. But, there was one thing he wasn't that I was – the Pan Handler. "I think if someone were to give me a pop quiz when we get to where ever we're off to, I would fail."

He only shrugged, "It's nothing special. If you want to know, we're on a great field trip to find out." Link pondered and I watched him find purchase on the back of his neck. "I suppose if you take out the fancy ceremonies and pretty clothes and the stuffy politicians, it wouldn't be far from the truth."

"No pretty clothes? A shame."

"Well, nothing extravagant as those gowns you wear. That's for sure. I like the simplicity of it."

I took the time to get a good look at him. He had changed this morning. Whether it was before I awoke or after, I wasn't paying attention. It seemed to be the same cotton shirt from two weeks ago when I ran into him. Oh, goddesses above, that was only two weeks ago? He was like a completely different man. The air around him was different. Not too different, he still had those relapsing moments where he would stiffen when I spoke a certain way. Not sure what that was about, but I wanted to think that he was loosening up around me. Perhaps I'm too trusting, but it felt perfectly comfortable to be around him. As if I was meant to be near Link.

I paused on that absurd thought. The sleeves of his shirt ended halfway, exposing his forearms. "Did you work on a farm?"

"Close, why?"

"We've only been out here for a few days and you're already looking tanner. In the winter months no less!"

"Ah," Link started, looking amused, "You did keep me up in that dark castle for a couple years. No wonder I looked like a sickly child."

I gawked, "Sickly child? I'll have you know-" I stopped myself. "Whatever. Tell me more about where you come from."

"It's not very interesting."

"I don't care," I said indignantly. He just laughed and began rattling off the things he remembered the most. I watched him as his eyes lit up as he spoke. "I had a horse too," he spoke, "A beautiful mare. I loved her to death. She was a work horse, but my sister and I treated her like the family pet. She was great, but once my mother got sick I had to sell her to get food on the table."

I opened my mouth to offer condolences, but he changed the subject before I could.

"The village we're going to has a hot spring."

Neither of us brought up the subject again.

The day dragged on and the temperature felt colder with each step. Link kept apologizing for not remembering to bring heavy coats despite knowing that we'd have no way to carry them. I wrapped my arms around me. The frozen mud had longed turned into plain frost. We were winding up a hill and towards what seemed to be a mountain pass. The sky was gray and I felt something hit my nose. It wasn't a rain drop, it was something lighter.

A wide grin grew on my lips.

"Link, look!"

Link seemed to blink a daze away and looked ahead. A small snowfall was currently under way and we were heading right towards it. "What?"

"It's snowing!" I squealed, speeding up my pace. I wanted nothing more than to make a snowman. Everything I hadn't done as a child was screaming in my thoughts. As I increased my speed the grass around my disappeared into a field of white. I looked in awe and tried to scoop a hand full into a ball. It was cold and it made my fingertips red and numb, but I didn't have the capacity to care. The snow kept falling apart, refusing to stick together.

"It's not the right type of snow for a snowball fight," he said behind me. I furrowed my eyebrows, "That doesn't make sense."

"It's too powdery right now, you have to wait for the snow to be more compact."

I frowned. What a tease.

"Come on," he held his hand out, "I promise you there's better snow farther into the mountains."

My heart surged as I grabbed his hand. His palm was rough and calloused, but hot compared to my numb finger tips. A welcomed feeling and I inwardly grieved when I let go. Without words I nodded, and we continued on.

It was so cold I was involuntarily shivering. Link had long given me his extra shirt and I could tell his one layer wasn't holding up well. Banners and symbols lined the mountain pass and it hit me where we were.

Kakariko Village.

I hugged myself and reflected on what I knew of this place. It was a humble village that was the center of the Sheikah culture and people. If it wasn't so cold I would smile. I had always loved the history of the Sheikah. One of the few people I trust deeply lives here. Speaking of her ladyship, I wondered if she went home for the holiday. If anyone could spot me in a crowd, it would be her.

The snow kept falling and it snuck up near my ankle. I could hear the sound of people singing and children laughing. Soon the pass led us to a wooden gateway and we walked through the entrance. I was eager to see people again. It seemed to be a party. A large fire was burning and music was playing. There were various tents for food and drink. Immediately my spirits were lifted.

"I wasn't really sure if this was a good first stop," Link started, almost breathless from the trek, "But I heard you rambling to Anju about the Sheikah…"

Goddesses that was forever ago. I never realized he actually listened.

"This is," I breathed, "Amazing, Link, thank you so much." We locked eyes for a moment. I'm sure I looked silly with the wide-toothed grin, but I was genuinely elated. I felt like a little kid all over again, learning from Lady Impa about her people and the ancient history they've managed to pass down. He didn't say anything and looked away. I cleared my throat and continued on the path, pushing away the thought that I said something wrong. I walked through the rows of houses, looking very unqueenly. I was sure my hair was matted and dirty. I doubt the cloak's hood would make a difference.

We walked through the throngs of people. It was a mix of tourists and native Sheikah, and for that I was grateful. A group of children danced around the bonfire under the supervision of their parents. Folklore was being passed along through song by a group of elders near the stream that ran through the village. A wave of comfort washed over me. Despite the ache of sleeping on the ground for several nights and the lack of showers, I basked in what was around me. I didn't hesitate to move towards the fire. The warmth was welcomed and a smile of satisfaction lit my cheeks. I desperately needed this.

I turned towards Link to my right to thank him again, but he wasn't there. I pulled my arms to my chest, he wasn't behind me either. Okay, Zelda, don't freak out. So, what if you're alone? I turned back to the bonfire and pushed my bangs away from my eyes. I'm fine! Perfect.

A small force hit my legs and bounced away.

"Ow-wuh," a small voice whined. I looked down at a little girl.

"Oh, Hylia above are you okay?" I knelt down. Link left and I've already hurt a child.

"Yeah," she sniffled and I took her little face in. She was young, no more than 10, with stark white locks and her cheeks and forehead pained in red traditional Sheikah symbols. They must have been to honor the goddesses for the holiday. I remember seeing others with the same markings. "What's wrong?"

"The boys are chasing me, lady," she said in a whining voice. My heart sung, she was adorable. "They're throwing snowballs at me."

"Snowballs?" My interest was piqued.

She nodded, "Yes, ma'am." I bit back a smile. I've never been called that before.

"What's your name?"

"Rivka."

"Well, Lady Rivka, if you would be so kind to train me in the art of snowball fighting I would be honored to defend you in this war," I touched my rigid right hand to my forehead with a determined look.

She gasped, "Really?"

I nodded and she grabbed my hand, beginning to haul me through the crowd to a snow bank. "Okay," she started, "We need canons, Miss Knight." Rivka held out a handful of snow in her little mitten cladded hands, "Just smush it." And she did just so. I gave it a go myself, picking up a handful and began sculpting it. This snow felt different then the last, far more compact. I grinned whimsically. I heard commotion in the crowd and little Rivka squealed, "They found us!"

Low and behold a posse of boys older than her emerged with snowballs of their own in their arsenal. "Is that them?" I asked hurriedly, adrenaline flowing from the childish game. She nodded enthusiastically and went to throw it. Her snowball didn't go very far and drew one of the boy's attention, who then alerted the rest. "There!"

I held out my snowball in a pitcher's stance and aimed for the tallest boy. It hit its mark and they paused. The shorter boys gasping. Rivka busted out in a fit of giggling. "Hey!" The assaulted boy shouted, "No fair! You have a grown up on your team!" Rivka grasped my hand and squeaked out a "Run!"

For what seemed like hours, there was a back and forth war between our team and there's. Rivka and I deemed them as evildoers, while she was princess of the kingdom and I her knight. With the addition of playing pretend, I was elated. I learned I wasn't very good at making snowballs but happened to be a decent snowball thrower. So, to remedy this, Rivka made our "canons" and I launched them. It was growing dark and her mother had found her. We talked for a short while and I told her I was passing through to see family. Then, they left, and I wandered back to the fire. Embers flicked up into the ever darkening sky as a man fed the flames with more firewood. The bonfire had lessened from when we arrived. People gathered around and music still played… and I felt happy.

I wonder what Father is doing right now?

"It's about to start," a woman's voice startled me. I looked down to see Rivka's mother who sat on the bench. I felt bad for not noticing earlier. I apologized lightly for my ignorance and she shook her head while patting the seat next to her, "It's nothing, dear."

"Is Rivka asleep?" I asked, noticing the lull between us.

"Yes, you've managed to exhaust her! I wanted to thank you for playing along. She's got an amazing mind, but those boys are relentless towards her."

I simply nodded and my gaze found its way to the fire.

"This is our fourth night of celebrating the midwinter," she said almost in a hush to me, I moved in to listen. "It's custom that we tell the tale of the Goddesses on each night to represent their positions on the Triforce."

"And what about the fourth night?" I inquired.

All she did was smile and an old man stepped in front of the fire. I noticed the many villagers and stray tourists that encircled. He let out a guttural noise, almost a chant but not quite. His audience quieted and it occurred to me that that was the purpose. He began speaking in a language removed from anything I had ever heard. Again, I heard Rivka's mother whisper, "He's speaking an ancient Hyrulian dialect, love. I'll try translating it for you."

And she did.

The old man told the story of not one, but them all. Din, the goddess of power, believed existence was futile without a land to rule over and so the land was created. Mountains grew from the universe, with treetops flourishing from those, valleys unraveled, and flowers bloomed. Nayru, the most wise goddess, could not fathom a world without order. And with one wish, justice and peace were made to tame the land. With these creations, only one goddess questioned their Plan. "Who was to cultivate your lands?" Farore questioned to her sister. "I," Din answered. "Pray tell," Farore asked another, "Who would be following your righteous justice?" "I, dear sister," Nayru replied. "Who would protect our domain? Though we are ever powerful, who will uphold it and give the Plan purpose?" Farore questioned for her last time.

Nayru and Din were speechless. Of course, they knew, there would always be forces to obstruct their Plan. Would they always be powerful enough to keep those forces at bay?

Farore held out her holy fist, wished a wish, and opened it.

With a flash the old man threw something into the flames, sparking a green color to manifest. I jumped back a bit and awed with the rest of the audience. He continued on. Shadows danced in the fire.

In the goddess's palm lay three infants. The first of their kind and most certainly not the last. "In our stead," Farore spoke to her sisters, "We will allow a diverse people to flourish. To protect, cultivate, and endure in our lands." Her sisters agreed and within these first children was the power of the Triforce, powers of the goddesses themselves. The Triforce, however, could be used equally as a tool of evil. "It is too powerful," Din feared, "Too powerful for our children. Temptation is a sin that even affects us. How will they be able to manage such a gift?" Nayru, being the wisest compromised. "We shall relinquish the overseeing to another. One more powerful than you, Din. One more courageous than Farore. And most importantly, one more wise than I."

With that, the goddess Hylia was called upon. Being the eldest of the sisters, she humbly accepted seeing as the Plan's fate was now in her hands. "With these children," Hylia had said, taking the infants into her motherly bosom, "The fate of all that is good hangs in the balance."

Some movement through the crowd caught my eye and I noticed it was Link. He was no longer in the lightweight clothes, but in a heavier coat with a sword still sitting on his hip. "Hey," he whispered, nonchalantly. He motioned for me to follow him. I bid goodbye and thank you to Rivka's mother before departing, not sparing several glances at the back of Link's head as I trailed behind. Why did he leave so abruptly? We scaled a flight of stairs of a large house. Once we reached the top and a decorated door slid open to reveal a tall woman with white hair tied back tightly. She marveled at me and I smiled, "Lady Impa!"

"Oh, child," she brought me into her arms before I could speak again. She sounded deeply relieved, contrasting her stoic and professional demeanor. She pushed me back to get a good look at my face, "Where have you been? It doesn't matter, Link told me enough. When is the last time you showered, girl? No matter. Come, come."

I was ushered through the doorway and into the warmth of the house. It was a large, muti-story building with winding halls and tall ceilings. I followed Impa, well, she was dragging me more than anything. We entered a bedroom. Mats littered the floor, so I took my boots off before walking inside. "Where in the world did you think you were going?" Impa said, busying herself by pulling out a cushion from a cabinet.

I fumbled for words, "When did you get back?"

"This morning," she laid it out and rummaged through a closet, "The courts were in a frenzy for two full days over your absence."

My heart sunk, "Oh."

"Oh, indeed," Impa looked pointedly at me. She wasn't old by any means, but her mind and soul seemed to transcend her physical age by decades. "Your father was livid."

My finger clasped together, "How… how is he?"

She sighed and finally found what she was looking for. A long sleeping gown of red and white. Despite its purpose, it was gorgeous. "The king thought the worst of course. I was in a meeting about your education the morning of your 'disappearance'. The head maid barged in completely irrational and started going on about kidnapping and attackers," she rolled her eyes dramatically, "The woman was mad. Absolutely mad."

Impa called a maid in and told her to take several things to the bathhouse. I hid my excitement. "Take this for our guest. Anyhow, he was worried. Full of concern. Sent out the guards to upturn every stone. Your uncle, of course, took his time to tell your father," she shook her head, disapproving as always towards him, "He waited until the court was together and discussing every option possible. One lord even argued to send troops to the desert, convinced you'd been captured by the Gerudo. Only then when your uncle was called in to talk about active servicemen did he tell your father about your ventures with a 'convoy'."

I couldn't help but laugh, stopping only when Impa gave me a look, "You never told me. Did you not think I would worry about you?"

I paused, ashamed. It hadn't crossed my mind. "No, I'm sorry. That was incredibly selfish of me." She took my right hand in hers, "I understand you not telling your father, but even if I try to talk you out of your young desires… please let me know." I nodded, feeling tears well and she stopped my apologizing. "No matter, Zelda. What happened is the past and we learn from our mistakes, yes? Now, have your adventures affected anything?"

She patted the topside of my hand and I shook my head, "I-I've been trying, but nothing as of yet." Impa looked critical before softening to resignation, "It's nothing you can force, child."

We parted as we left and walked further down the hall. "Most importantly," Impa turned her head slightly to address me once more, "Have you been having fun?"

An involuntary smile reached me, "So much. I'm over the moon."

"Good."

Walking outside into the garden shocked my body, but we ended up in another building with a glowing warmth far different than a fire.

"Here in Kakariko we have a hot spring that runs from underneath the mountains around us," we found a maid awaiting us. There were two separate doors. "Through the left door is the ladies' sitting room and then through another door is the springs. Usually both men and women bathe together-"

My face heated up and she smiled softly, "-but to our guests we understand that that's not the cultural norm so we did divide the springs." I must have been noticeably relieved. Impa left quickly to attend to other matters and I entered the first room, already feeling the heat of the steam.

It didn't feel as awkward as I thought to peel away the layers of clothes. It was welcomed. They were stained in places from mud and sleeping on the ground. On my bare legs I noticed several small bruises that magically manifested throughout our trek. I snuck towards the doorway and peered around the corner. Impa was right, a temporary screen divided the large natural pool just barely sinking in the water. I covered myself the best I could out of slight embarrassment and hobbled toward the edge. Stairs were built to lead visitors safely into the water. The water intense. Just barely hot enough to heed my rushing. I had to lower myself slowly into it until I was waist deep. A sigh left me and I thanked the goddesses for putting a hot spring so conveniently located. I sunk to my neck and closed my eyes in bliss. I felt down my arms and legs, feeling dried on mud and dirt slide away. I dunked my head underneath the surface for a moment, scratching at my scalp and letting my hair free itself of excess oils. Serenity was hearing the water move and flow from a spout sticking out of the wall. I wondered how much time it took to construct this place, but not for long. I heard a sliding door on the other side of the screen.

Oh dear.

Never had I felt so modest in my life.

Zelda, it's okay they don't even know your there. There's a screen for a reason, right?

I sunk to my chin.

There was a loud sound, a yelp, and something hit the water. Did he just fall into the spring? Panic rose in my chest. I am not going over there to save him. Not like this. Thankfully, I thought I heard him resurface and gasp for air. The water wasn't that deep anyway.

"Are you okay?" I said.

Hylia, why did I just expose myself?

I really must be my own worst enemy. I cringed.

"Um, yes," he sounded shaky, as if startled. "Zelda?"

Damn me to the deepest pits of the world. My face scrunched up and a let out a pained "Hello, Link."

"What are you doing here?"

"Bathing?" My answer sounded like another question.

"Oh, right. I'll leave you to it," I heard him move to the edge and a frustration hit me.

"No, you're not. Why should you?"

"Because-"

"There's a screen and you have every right to be here just like me." I'm having déjà vu.

"Okay," he replied simply, if not a little awkwardly. His voice reverberated off the walls. I should have just let the man leave. My stubbornness will be the death of me.

I gulped, "How are you?" At this moment, I had no other ideas on what to ask when bathing with an admittedly attractive person. It was enough to keep my head reeled in.

"I'm tired. And you?"

"Hungry," I blurted out.

Link laughed, "I am too."

There was a lull and I waded, hoping to feel cleaner soon so I could ditch this place to avoid dying of embarrassment. Although, there was something I was intensely curious about. I doubt there would be a better time to ask.

"Why did you leave me when we got here?" I wasn't insulted by it. At most, surprised. It was probably the last thing I expected and I hoped I didn't seem like a brat when I asked. There was a moment's silence and my question hung freely in the air so I went on, "I-I'm just asking because I'm curious I'm don't mean to… you know." My nervousness was tinged in my words.

"When we got here I noticed how cold you were so I went to find better coats."

"Oh."

So, he left without telling me? A sick feeling churned in my stomach. It occurred to me how much time he's spent with me. He'd been at my side at every point of the day for most of the week, he listened to every bad joke, and even had to risk his job because of my antics. That's not even taking into account two years of service standing by my bedroom every day and night. Of course, Link would want to get away from me for a couple moments. Doing what I could to clean my face, I scrubbed my cheeks with my palms and waded to the edge to get out.

"Are you leaving already?" He asked.

I swallowed and nodded, forgetting he couldn't see me, "Yes, I'm going to bed."

"I thought you were hungry."

I lifted myself out of the springs, not bothering to go the extra couple feet for the stairs. "I lost my appetite."

That was a lie. I could eat a horse.

My hand hesitated by the sliding door, he paused after starting to say something too quiet for me to make out. I thought he was going to question my sudden change in mood, but thankfully he only said, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I responded, and stepped into the building to gather my belongings.

[thesanguinerose]

Week One Apprentice April Asks

I wanted to post the remaining asks for my boys, so here you go!

Questions already answered are linked. Also RIP to mobile users. I’m so sorry.

For Rory:

1. The Basics.  What is your character’s name?  How old are they?  How tall are they?  Skin color?  Eye color?  Hair color?  Gender identification?

Riordan “Rory” Enda Tanner is 26 years old at the start of the game. He was born April 11 (Aries), and is trans (he/him only, please). He does identify as gay, though he has been known to have some wiggle room - rare as said wiggle room is. He stands at a towering 5’2” (though he wears heeled boots 99% of the time so really everyone sees him at….5’5”), is incredibly pale and rosy and freckled, has green eyes, and brown hair that’s usually pulled back into a ponytail or braid. Sometimes he leaves it down, though, and it is close to waist length. He likes to wear silver earrings (cuffed up to his cartilage), and his colors are Navy, Cream, and Silver. He made his own binder by developing a modified stay, though his build is slight enough that he doesn’t require it all the time. His general outfit is a white undershirt, with the sleeves rolled up, his modified stay, a navy vest/jerkin, and brown trousers and boots. Fairly simple and standard. Doesn’t garner much attention. He also cannot see very well and has circular spectacles. However, due to his clumsiness, Rory keeps them on a chain in case they fall from his face. Which they do. Frequently. (Further outfit info can be provided on request for pre-death/masquerade/etc purposes if interested!)

2.  Love Interest.  Who does your character love?  What attracted them to that particular LI? 

Answered here

3. Familiar.  Does your character have a familiar?  How did they meet?

Answered here

4. Hobbies.  What kinds of things does your character like to do for fun?

He likes to sew. One of his passions is designing and sewing together outfits or finding fun ways to design practical clothing items. He makes all of his own clothing and post-game experiments with many different kinds and colors of fabrics. He also enjoys writing - mostly journal entries as he doesn’t want to forget any other aspect of his life from now on. Also enjoys horseback riding and general tomfoolery!

5. Hidden talents.  Is there something neat that your character can do?  Tie a cherry stem into a knot with their tongue?  Say any word backwards perfectly?

SFW - He’s a very good dancer, though usually just when others aren’t looking. He is also a fan of sleight of hand tricks, using magic or just by being slippery.

…..he has some NSFW ones, but those are available upon request ^_^

6. Magical talents.  Is there a specific type of magic that your character excels at?  Any magic they aren’t so great at?  Or do they actually shy away from magic altogether?

Rory has some natural talent and some learned. Naturally, he is adept with fire based magic, and prophetic divination, most of which is involuntary. He is also prone to emotional outbursts that result in items being broken/people being hurt. Learned, he excelled at alchemy, illusion, and magical theory. He likes the balance and physicality of alchemy, versus the creativity and freedom of illusion, and how they play into one another. Most of his learned magic was lost, but Asra retaught him a bit of it :)

7. Interaction.  How does your character typically interact with people?

Answered here

8. Romance.  What is something that your character and their LI love to do together?  How do they show affection?

With Julian, they like to go on adventures. The more places they can go, the better. They are also both very good at surprising each other with events, gifts, vacations. Sometimes, just the simple things like making breakfast in the morning, or a comforting hug after a bad day. Rory primarily shows his affection with words and actions - he is very much a fan of telling people that he loves them and why, and wants to hug and touch as much as he can. He requires the same, though usually the words are the important part, especially as his insecurities show up. He just needs reassurance that he is loved, and he is glad to provide the same as is needed.

9. Travel.  Does your character like to travel outside of Vesuvia?  How often?  For how long?  What kinds of things do they do away from home?

Now he does. He was raised on a farm in a small village about a week’s travel southwest of Vesuvia. He ran away from home at 18, stayed briefly with his aunt in Vesuvia, went to school in Prakra for magic, then returned to Vesuvia to help his aunt with her shop. Up until his death, however, he stayed within the general city limits. Once he is brought back, he stays at home up through end-game. At that point, he and Julian travel all over the world, for months at a time, especially once they get Julian his own ship. They regularly travel to Nevivon and galavant across Prakra, but always return home to Vesuvia. Every trip means a new place that Rory hasn’t seen, and if Julian hasn’t been there, either, all the better!

10. WTF.  Has anything just…weird ever happened to your character?  Something that made them stop and go “What just happened?!”

Answered here

11. Crime.  Has your character ever been arrested?  If so, what did they do?  Have they ever helped stop a crime?

He’s never been caught ;) See Question 10 for stopping crimes, though that hardly counts, doesn’t it?

12. Secrets.  What is a secret that your character has?  Are they in line for the throne in a far off land?  Was there this one time at band camp…?  Are they secretly involved in an assassin’s guild?

Answered here

13. Overcompensation.  Is there something that your character just HAS to do better than anyone else?  Or are they just that dang good without trying?  If they see someone else showing off, what is their kneejerk reaction?

Answered here

14. Fight Club.  Is your character a good fighter?  What kind of skills do they have?

Answered here

15. The Arts.  Is your character a creative type?  What kinds of things can they create?  Can they act?  Street perform?

He can sketch! Not well, and not people, but he likes to sketch out landscapes and plants. Professional Doodler ;) He also does stage magic and sleight of hand for fun, and has been known to do some work down at the community theater. He can sing, but he’s a better dancer, preferring to let his body do the talking for him. Wishes he could play an instrument, but for everyone’s sake...best not to let him near one!

16. Goofy.  Is your character a clown?  Do they like to make people laugh?

Answered here

17. Language.  Is your character multilingual?  How many languages do they speak?  Do they have an accent?  Is it sexy?  Is it silly?  Do they have a multilingual lisp?

Answered here

18. Embarrassment.  What is something really embarrassing that your character has done/said?

Honestly, when he first went to Prakra, he was a bit of a bumpkin. So just his overall reactions to being in a metropolis, plus his shy demeanor, led him to act in some embarrassing ways around people he wanted to befriend. In game, Rory is notoriously clumsy, not quite used to his limbs, like a young colt. He laughs off his embarrassment, now, at least!

19. Memory.  Has your character gotten any of their memory back?  If so, what?  Did it change them?

Not properly. When he became strong enough, Asra gave Rory back his old journal, which documented Rory’s life from the ages of 16 to 22, when he died. Rory can’t read it for too long or, yes, the headaches start. So instead of getting his memories back, he just sort of re-reads what his life was from the point of view of someone that he...quite simply doesn’t relate to anymore. But it’s good for him to know, he thinks. To see what he was like, and to avoid making similar mistakes. It does inspire him to make his own journal, and to keep track of his days so he never loses another moment again.

20. Family.  Talk about your character’s family.  Who were they?

Answered here

For Riley

1. The Basics.  What is your character’s name?  How old are they?  How tall are they?  Skin color?  Eye color?  Hair color?  Gender identification?

Riley Aeron Tanner is 24 years old at the start of the game. He’s a Virgo, born September 17th, and is cis, using he/him pronouns. Highkey a bisexual disaster who doesn’t quite know what to do with all the feelings he has, and also pretty oblivious to people liking him! He’s 6’2” and built like a brick shithouse, warm skin-toned, easy to tan, but still very clearly pale. He has brown eyes and dark brown hair, which he tries to keep short, but he’s not very good at cutting it, so it sometimes hits near chin length. He can be found wearing very practical clothing that makes it easy to move as he does a lot of stocking/lifting/errand running for the shop, as well as odd jobs around town. Also very earthy in his tones - lots of greens and browns and oranges! He’s also not incredibly hairy, but he does have a fair amount of body hair - including a full beard, which he tries to keep neatly trimmed. Unlike his brother, he can see without glasses, so any accessories would be practical - a bag, tools, and the like.

2.  Love Interest.  Who does your character love?  What attracted them to that particular LI?

Answered here

3. Familiar.  Does your character have a familiar?  How did they meet?

Answered here

4. Hobbies.  What kinds of things does your character like to do for fun?

He likes to play the lute, go for walks outside the city, and people watch. He’s definitely a people person and his favorite is going into the marketplace and just complimenting people on their wares, or drawing the animals he sees running around. And just being an all around good guy...Those are hobbies, right?

5. Hidden talents.  Is there something neat that your character can do?  Tie a cherry stem into a knot with their tongue?  Say any word backwards perfectly?

Answered here

6. Magical talents.  Is there a specific type of magic that your character excels at?  Any magic they aren’t so great at?  Or do they actually shy away from magic altogether?

Honestly, Riley isn’t good at magic at all. He’s never shown an affinity for it, and it’s never been that big a deal to him. In his canon, Rory dies when Riley is 15, and so he pursues magic as a way to honor him, even if it’s hard. He gains an affinity for Green Magic and enjoys tarot, but he still isn’t particularly good at either of them. After he is brought back, of course, this changes, and his magical powers develop very quickly.

7. Interaction.  How does your character typically interact with people?

He. Loves. People. He’s like a big puppy - loud and excited, kind and helpful, constantly the life of the party. He tries to help people in need whenever he can, and if he ends a conversation with the other person grinning, then he has succeeded! Generally well liked, but not smug or rude about it. He’s just a good dude!

8. Romance.  What is something that your character and their LI love to do together?  How do they show affection?

With Portia, they like to go on adventures together either in real life, or in their books. He likes it when she reads to him, and he likes to read to her. He likes to surprise her with events and little shows of physical affection - neck kisses, spinning her around, humming into her ear, massages after a long day. He likes to doodle her - though he is so upset that he can’t catch her likeness in his stick figures, not properly. Riley also serenades her - out in public or in the privacy of their home - doesn’t matter!

9. Travel.  Does your character like to travel outside of Vesuvia?  How often?  For how long?  What kinds of things do they do away from home?

He doesn’t travel very often. He’s stayed in Vesuvia since he moved there at 15, so I guess you could say he’s a bit of a homebody. He will travel occasionally, especially if Portia wants to, and is open to adventure, but it doesn’t occur to him to leave unless someone else suggests it.

10. WTF.  Has anything just…weird ever happened to your character?  Something that made them stop and go “What just happened?!”

Answered here

11. Crime.  Has your character ever been arrested?  If so, what did they do?  Have they ever helped stop a crime?

Riley is generally pretty lawful good, though in both Rory and Riley’s canons, he does take up with a small militia to fight some of Lucio’s men. I suppose that was a crime, though I would argue the validity of that claim. He’s stopped a robbery or two in the past, but he generally tries to stay out of trouble.

12. Secrets.  What is a secret that your character has?  Are they in line for the throne in a far off land?  Was there this one time at band camp…?  Are they secretly involved in an assassin’s guild?

Answered here

13. Overcompensation.  Is there something that your character just HAS to do better than anyone else?  Or are they just that dang good without trying?  If they see someone else showing off, what is their kneejerk reaction?

Answered here

14. Fight Club.  Is your character a good fighter?  What kind of skills do they have?

Yes. He can punch, he can throw, he can swordfight - He’s just very good at fighting. In canon, he is a practiced fighter, and in most AUs, he has done boxing or wrestling in addition to weightlifting. Boy can Fight!

15. The Arts.  Is your character a creative type?  What kinds of things can they create?  Can they act?  Street perform?

Answered here

16. Goofy.  Is your character a clown?  Do they like to make people laugh?

Answered here

17. Language.  Is your character multilingual?  How many languages do they speak?  Do they have an accent?  Is it sexy?  Is it silly?  Do they have a multilingual lisp?

Answered here

18. Embarrassment.  What is something really embarrassing that your character has done/said?

Asra tried to tell Riley he loved him once before Riley’s death, and Riley just said, “Oh, wow, buddy! I love you too!” because he didn’t realize what Asra meant. Once he did realize, it was deeply embarrassing for both of them and Riley felt really bad about it.

19. Memory.  Has your character gotten any of their memory back?  If so, what?  Did it change them?

He hasn’t. But maybe it’s better to forget, y’know? He can move forward instead of looking back on what he lost.

20. Family.  Talk about your character’s family.  Who were they?

See Rory’s answer for most of this. The only difference is the dynamic. Riley was raised as the “perfect” child in contrast to the abuse Rory faced, and so developed a weird complex around being “perfect”. He was spoiled, though did not want to be, and was uncomfortable with it. He also looked up to his older brother like he was made of everything good in this world - Riley wanted so much to be like Rory.

[neshabeingchildish]

22. Mr. and Mrs. Jasper Dunlop

I’ve been away from this story for a long while, because of my mental health, but definitely have decided that I will complete it, no matter what. Since I figured I wouldn’t be writing a ton of Chasper stories, I knew this one would be long, because I’d wanna include all my Chasper indulgences in it. It’s gonna be coming to an ending soon. Hopefully, the way I have been feeling won’t bleed too much into the mood of the story. I know it definitely did at a few points, but I’m just praying that overall, the story will turn out in the tone that I intended for this story and this ship. Thanks for reading. 

OH! And since I mentioned them a few times and I have them with lines and such, my FCs for these OCs are Fisher: Tanner Stine and New Henry/Craig: Davont’e Franklin.

Also, I gave up on editing at some point, so... that’s what that is. And wedding aesthetics will be out at some point soon.

Mr. and Mrs. Jasper Dunlop

Piper was bummed that she would have to miss Henry’s college graduation, but she made sure to threaten to beat him senseless as soon as she recovered if he didn’t proceed with his plans for the evening. He hadn’t planned much. Graduation ceremony, dinner with the family, and chillaxing with Charlotte and Jasper. It was good to have Jake and Siren in a room together without it being terrible. They both felt so bad about Piper that they forgot their issues for a while and just got along and supported her. In the break up, both had sort of put her in the middle and made her feel like she had to choose. She’d chosen Henry, because he was the only person that she felt could relate. Now, she was in the hospital, fixing her makeup to address her followers, and wishing she could be at her brother’s graduation.

Henry was fine. With Piper assuring him that his presence could have in no way helped her outcome, he could finally relax. He could just enjoy the moment… sort of. It was weird to not have her there. They’d spent a lot of time together since she found out that he was Kid Danger and they spent even more time together since their parents broke up. She was supposed to be here. Charlotte agreed to make sure that she captured every possible moment of Henry’s special evening, so it could be like Piper was there the whole time. 

Afterwards, he, Jasper and Charlotte went to hang out at the hospital with Piper. She was stuck in there for about 3 days and whenever she was released, she had Henry bring her to Jake’s place. She was going to need some nursing back to full recovery and she didn’t want to get in Henry’s way of Kid Danger things.

Henry, instead was immediately throwing himself into revamping the store. Nate had been working on things for over a year and they were ready to reopen the place, remodeled. Some of the former junk and stuff things were on the upper floor and arranged to look more like a gift and antique shop than junk. Anything that looked too “junk-like,” Piper and Henry had cleared out during a garage sale in front of the store. Everything else, she took charge of organizing on that floor and they plastered the old Junk N’ Stuff sign on the back wall, sort of like a novelty, honestly for their own nostalgia. Because, outside of the place was a new sign, with lettering that Piper had picked and a name that they had decided on together, “Heart Eyes” with a heart symbol for the “E,” so technically, “Hart Eyes,” and the tagline, “You’ll see something you’ll love here.”

Entering the store, it was like a little department store in that it had various stations - a fabrics and frames, jewelry and accessories, juice and smoothie bar and the florist center. They were near the walls, the florist being to the right, whenever you first came in, bar to the left and the others towards the back. The middle of the store was a boutique of formals and gifts. 

“This is actually really great, right?” Henry asked Piper. He knew that she would always be honest.

“Yeah. It’s amazing Henry. I’m super proud of you.” She clapped him on the shoulder and they both smiled. They were gonna be alright. They were gonna do well. He was sure of it. The worst had to be over… They turned towards the door hearing some laughter, ready to greet a guest. It was just Jake and Ray. Piper sighed and rolled her eyes. She and her dad were working on their relationship, but this new friendship with Ray of his was weird and uncomfortable for her.

“Yo!” Henry cheered. “If it isn’t my two dads…” He joked. Both men began to laugh very vigorously. More than he knew that joke was worth, so he asked, “What am I missing?”

“What? That wasn’t in reference to the comedy series with Paul Reiser?” Ray asked. “Because, if it wasn’t, I don’t get it.”

“Of course it was!” Jake said. “Oooh, I wonder if that show is streaming on anything.”

“Probably not. It was too good. But you know… Piper can probably pirate it for us.”

“You… would ASK my daughter to break the law?” Jake asked, folding his arms.

“No. I’d just tell her to do it and she’ll likely jump right in, because it’s fun for her to break the law. She loves that kinda stuff.”

Jake laughed, “You’re right.”

“Where are you two going?” Henry asked, knowing that Ray wasn’t going to share the Man Cave with Jake! 

“I’m getting my bag. Jake and I are having a sleepover at his house, if that’s okay?”

Henry folded his arms and said, “Well, you two better not stay up all night. Both of you have work in the morning. Also, I just checked every streaming service and no, My Two Dads is not on anything.”

Ray shook his head, “Figures.” He headed towards the back and screamed, “PIPER!!!” Jake waited with Henry and whenever Ray came back, with his bag, they left, shoulder to shoulder, talking about how funny My Two Dads used to be. Henry would have thought that was a made up thing, but he searched and it did come up. Totally real late 80s, early 90s show… though not about what he’d thought… 

He was thinking more along the lines of how he and Jasper used to say that they were gonna grow old together. If they were gonna have a kid, they’d get Charlotte to be a surrogate and Jasper would be a house dad while Henry supported the family on a hero’s salary. It was a perfect plan. At the end of high school senior year, that plan was picked apart. At the end of college, that plan was dust blowing in the wind. And a year later, that plan was replaced completely with the new and improved plan.

.

Welcome to the Wedding of Charlotte Ambrosia Page and Jasper TBD Dunlop...

Two years of planning made the wedding come together perfectly. While Jasper did have an additional year of college to complete in that duration, he landed a job at the firm where he was an intern, sooner than he expected and had been working there for half a year by the time of the wedding. And the wedding? Everything Jasper could have dreamed up and more! Henry was obviously amazing at this. Charlotte had gotten everyone that she knew who had a skill or product to offer involved. Piper was there, at her happiest and healthiest since the wreck.

Henry had told her, “Just worry about your little dress,” whenever she was asking about what kind of extravagant plans he would be entertaining for Jasper. That just made her worry more, when she really had nothing to worry about. 

The day of the wedding, she realized that the moms, Henry and Piper were on every little detail. They had Jasper’s frat bros and pledges to assist or serve, with the exception of the three that were actually a part of his wedding party. He would have had more, but Charlotte only had three friends, INCLUDING him, so even having three made her side unleveled. Fortunately, Schwoz was willing to stand in as a body to make things more symmetrical. He, Henry and Piper to Jasper’s Coogie, Snek and Fisher, with Henry handling Lady and Tramp, who kept the rings on their collars for safe keeping. 

Jasper and Charlotte had decided that the last entry in each of their affirmation journals for each other would be their wedding vows. Whenever they would finish reciting them, they’d finally give those to each other. They would also show each other their new affirmation journals during the gift exchange.

Processional

The wedding party all had on pastel yellow or orange with bright red, orange and yellow accessories. Jasper had a suit with a red floral jacket and red pants with gold accents. Technically, it was a women’s suit, but it was what he wanted, so they got it tailored to him and Charlotte had to admit that he not only pulled it off, but it was a LEWK. It was doing it for her. She was able to see him long before he could see her, and not because of bad luck or any other such nonsense. Because of good old fashioned, she was extremely busy trying to finish up everything at work before her small break, she had to squeeze in a party that was forced upon her, and the day of the actual wedding, her mother and Aunt Cohort insisted on keeping her apart from everybody, because her entrance had to be the most memorable part of the ceremony. Fucking Bolton women… Well… Cohort… was by marriage, but STILL. 

Luckily, Piper was posting in her stories and Charlotte’s phone hadn’t been taken away. She was SO GLAD whenever it was time for her mom and aunt to go have a seat. Then, whenever Henry came to retrieve her, give her the bouquet that he didn’t trust ANYONE touching until it was go time and let her pet her doggies before her dad had to walk her down the aisle.

Bride’s Entrance 

Henry went in first with the dogs in their miniature outfits that were made to look like a bride and groom, though they didn’t quite match Jasper and Charlotte. Tramp’s suit was red and she had on a floral crown, while Lady had on a white dress, nothing like Char’s and a veil. She had these little leg cuffs and people went crazy to see the doggos look so adorable, but it was time to stand for the bride and Jasper was excited, nervous, anxious, and eager, all at once. 

His pledges opened the doors and on Mr. Page’s arm was Charlotte, tiny and glowing -  not wearing heels, because she didn’t want to possibly fall today and not wearing her usual thick soles, because she simply didn’t have any that were wedding appropriate. “Oh my God,” Jasper said, along with a chorus of his frat bros. The dress that Charlotte had made was short in the front, long in the back, frilly kinda like a tutu at the bottom, but cascading behind her and had iridescent highlights in it that made it kind of twinkle and crystals on it that made it kind of sparkle. She was SUCH a sight, he didn’t even know what to do but try not to cry at this vision. 

She wore a luminous highlighter and a light shimmer on her skin, which was moisturized and radiant. Adanna made her jewelry of jasper, mock rubies, crystals and gold. And the bridal frohawk that she wore was adorned with sparkly gems and small flowers on the knotted twists. As she got closer, he could see that she put a heart in rhinestones around her “Yes” tattoo, and his heart could hardly handle any of this. The frat brothers began a chorus of big dog barking - that always put his head back in the game, but he figured that today was probably not a good day to go that route. He was appeased with Little Dog joined in with her tiny barking, and he was able to compose himself again.

Whenever Mr. Page passed her hands over to Jasper’s, he was all choked up, they both were. Charlotte was actually, surprisingly calm, considering that her heart was beating and her hands were sweating and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from this man in front of her that she NEVER EVER thought she would EVER be standing here with, feeling this way… Just 6 years ago, she wouldn’t have even kissed him on the cheek! “You look amazing,” he managed to say. She couldn’t speak. He looked… UNF. She just couldn’t. She tried to catch her breath, but he moved so close that she thought he might kiss her. Instead he smiled, giddy, and brushed his nose against hers. He kept his face very near her face and neck and probably was going to wind up sore from trying to be so close to her. He kept whispering things like, “I can’t believe this is really happening,” and “I love you so much.”

Words from the Parents...

Instead of “readings,” they’d asked their parents for tiny speeches of advice. There were no poems or lyrics that were going to sum up what they felt. Better to bring this new adventure in with the most important people giving them the most sacred advice on their special day. 

Mr. Page said, “From the time Charlotte was a little girl, she always knew what she wanted and she never had trouble working hard to get it. So much, that by the time she was 6, I pretty much knew I could trust that she meant whatever she would say. So, whenever she said that you two were together, I honestly didn’t think twice about it. I’ve always wondered, will she make the right choice in a man, or a woman, if that would have been where she would have gone. I always thought if she came home one day with someone that I didn’t understand being for her, would I be able to accept it. Jasper… We’ve known you for years and I didn’t think you and my daughter were right for each other, but I knew her and I trusted her, so whenever I saw that it lasted and that it would come to this, I expected that. Because Charlotte might make mistakes, but she’s never made any that I’ve seen. So, you just better trust her. Trust her to do what she wants and needs to do for herself and trust in whatever she vows to do for you. She always knows exactly what she means. Always have.” Henry patted an emotional Jasper on the back. 

Recognition, advice, guidance from men was always a soft spot for him, having not had his dad around most of his life, and coming from his soon to be father-in-law, on a day already crammed with emotions, he just had to let a few happy tears fall. 

Mrs. Page said, “To add to that, make sure that she can trust you! One time when she was like 9 ot 10, my brother played what he felt like was a little prank on her. I don’t even remember what it was…” Charlotte almost interrupted to explain the prank, but didn’t want to derail her own wedding. “And whatever Coco did, Charlotte didn’t forgive him for YEARS and she still hasn’t forgotten. Look at her face.” They all laughed. “She’s slow to forgive and never forgets, so you need to be sure that you remain honest and trustworthy, Jasper. And Charlotte, you know I’ve been giving you bits and pieces all throughout this engagement, to the point that I don’t have much more to say but to just say this in summation: Be soft with him. He’s sensitive and you can be hard and cold sometimes. It won’t make you weak to be soft with him.” Charlotte furrowed her eyebrows. I AM soft with him. Him and him alone. Jasper squeezed her hand and pressed his cheek against her bridal frohawk. His mother simply offered congratulations and said, “Even I’ve learned a lot about her from you, so I can’t give advice, but I freely give my blessing and hope that she continues to love you as much as she’s shown me that she has.” 

Jasper was crying and wondering again why they didn’t have this happen at the reception, instead of as part of the wedding, but Henry had explained to him before - the WEDDING is supposed to be an emotional event. The reception is supposed to be a party with photo ops. Besides, only person qualified to give a speech at you two’s reception is ME.” 

Jack Leigh took the microphone from Pansy… not aggressively or anything, just eagerly. She stood, somewhat uncomfortably next to him as he announced, “Some of you probably don’t know me, but I am Jasper’s bio-dad. We didn’t really have a long history together, but what interactions we did have were definitely among the most significant ones in my life. I wasn’t the kind of father that Jasper needed and wasn’t the kind of husband his mom needed. So, my advice today would be - always put this relationship first. When you’re married, when you’ve decided in your heart that this is the one, nothing should be more important to you than your wife and your family. Whenever we met, I was SO PROUD that you had done so well. I was always worried that I would’ve screwed you up so bad that you’d hate me and not even believe in love, or worst - that you’d turn out like me. You managed to be a good kid, find a great woman and be smart enough to learn to love her and know her before making a huge decision. And you two just… work. So, my advice is to keep trusting and believing in yourself. You’ll do right by her and by this marriage. Because, whatever is inside of you has made you that kind of man.”

Henry preemptively handed Jasper a cloth handkerchief, which he sobbed into, with Charlotte rubbing his belly, affectionately and soothing him with her voice. It wasn’t until Uncle Roscoe yelled out, “Let it out, Lil’ Nephew! Big Dogs cry too!” And everyone, including Jasper started laughing. Things became a little less tense and the rest of the ceremony carried on beautifully. Uncle Rox was the man! Jasper reminded himself.

Reciting of Vows

Since Henry had the dogs, Piper held on to Charlotte’s affirmation journal for her and Fisher has Jasper’s. Henry had decided that it was better for them to stand behind and a little off to the side and extend their arms forward with the books, as to not get in between the officiant and the couple, and not to block too much the couple from the guests, but also to not have Charlotte and Jasper release hands to hold books. Just as well, he encouraged them to try to memorize the vows, but knew that Charlotte, while she might be able to memorize it all word for word, would feel more comfortable with having them there. But, she had already talked to both of them and instead of them awkwardly holding them for them to be read, both Piper and Fisher simply held the books and stood beside them, with them open. If they had a pause or something, they could just whisper the next line. Henry was salty that he hadn’t thought of that, but Charlotte WAS the brains of that operation. 

Jasper spoke, “Charlotte, whenever I first fell in love with you, I knew that I wasn’t what you would have looked for in a man, but I was up to that challenge, because I knew that you were worth more than any person that I would ever know or meet in my life. And I’m still up to that challenge, as you continue to evolve and grow into a greater person, I will continue to push myself to be worthy of being at your side. I will be strong for you, even though I know that you’re strong enough. I will be brave for you, even though I know that you’re brave enough. I will be every definition of a man that you could ever possibly dream of and if I can’t, I’ll determine that I just have to work harder. You’ll never be alone, as long as I’m alive and you’ll never be without as long as I have breath in me. I don’t care what it takes. I’ve been determined to be what you want, need, and love, and I will never stop being and doing that, as long as I live and as long as we’re together.”

Charlotte’s face twisted in emotion and Piper quickly tucked the journal and clapped her hands twice. Schwoz wiped at Charlotte’s eye corners to catch the tears in the tear cloth, Henry fanned her to keep her from being too warm and Adanna passed a refresher rose water spray spritz to Piper, which she sprayed a couple of times on Charlotte’s face as Henry fanned, and Schwoz blotted. Charlotte nodded once and the three whispered, “Break!” and resumed their positions. The guests laughed a little at the proficiency and dedication, but Charlotte took a deep breath and motivated herself, “You’ve got this, Charlotte. You’re good.”

“You’re the best,” Jasper corrected her, with a teary smile. 

She smiled at him and nodded her head. “Jasper. Before us, I knew what I wanted and who I wanted to be - just like my dad said earlier -”

“Good improv,” Piper whispered and Charlotte just winked and continued.

“But, whenever you made your presence known in my life, I had to rethink my entire future. I wouldn’t just do that for some guy. I would only do that for a man that I knew that I could trust, love, and respect for the rest of my life. Neither of us is perfect, but we still manage to make it work out perfectly, and surprisingly and refreshingly, that’s never all on me. I’ve known a lot of people to get married and lose themselves in each other, or even become an unmarried couple and begin to live their lives revolving around the other person and a lot of times neglecting themselves and I was worried and scared that it might happen to me. But, you’ve remained my best friend and you’ve become my life partner. You motivate me to be more of myself and you inspire me to be a higher me… That’s so goofy, but it’s true. I just want to be able to reciprocate that determination and dedication that you show. Not to lose myself in you, but to continue to find myself, with you and for you to continue to find yourself with me, and you are the only person that I could ever imagine it working so perfectly with. The only person I would be willing to call myself “Mrs.” for. From this day on, that’s who I am.”

Jasper ugly cried and Fisher asked Piper, “Can we get one of those ummm…?” Piper clapped her hands twice and they fixed Jasper right up, too. She smiled at Fisher as they three said, “Break!”

Gift Presentation and Ring Exchange

Charlotte and Jasper gave each other their affirmation journals, which they passed back to Piper and Fisher, who put them away where they had kept the previous ones, before the vows recitals. Henry took that time to collect the rings from the dogs’ collars and pass them to Piper and Fisher, as he made a little announcement for the guests, “I know that this ceremony hasn’t been exactly what you’ve come to expect in a wedding…”

Roscoe, who was sitting by Ray and Cohort cheered, “It’s the best wedding I have ever seen!” He and Jasper pointed at each other with huge smiles and Ray rolled his eyes. 

“This guy is the worst, right?” He asked Cohort.

“This is my husband,” she said, annoyed. 

Ray chuckled and added, “The worst at being a bad guest, am I right?”

Jake put a hand on Ray’s leg and said, “Just… Shhh. Our Henry’s speaking!”

Henry continued, “And now, the bride would like to make a small gift presentation before the rings exchange.” Jasper furrowed his eyebrows in surprise. He thought that HE was the one who knew most about this ceremony, but apparently Henry and Charlotte had managed to keep something from him… New Henry and another frat boy brought in a fancy looking chest adorned in red and gold, and Henry opened it.

Charlotte said, “This is more like an extension of my vows, so you don’t feel a way about not getting me anything. I just wanted to make today extra special for you and take this time that I knew that I would have to declare in front of all of our loved ones stuff that they might not ever really get a chance to hear or see me profess again.” Jasper placed both hands over his heart and smiled. Charlotte was great at gift giving, whenever she made the time and took the effort to gift people. 

“First, there’s this,” she pulled out a trophy that looked enough like Jasper hitting a flex pose, but golden and he gasped in excitement. “This is because you’re very competitive, sometimes, even when there is no competition for you! And for this, there is none…” 

She handed it to him and he looked at it and practically screamed, “MOST PERFECT MAN FOR CHARLOTTE!” She laughed and he turned to show it off to everyone as she reached into the gift box again. 

By this time, Uncle Roscoe had gotten up and was taking photos. Jasper and his groomsmen were posing with and around the trophy like he’d really actually won something and Charlotte was tickled, because she knew that in Jasper’s mind, he really had. She cleared her throat and he passed his trophy to Fisher, “Don’t let anything happen to that.”

“We’re at your wedding. What could happen?” Fisher wondered.

Charlotte said, “This next gift is something that I had made for you to represent who you are to me and let you show that off to everyone else.” She pulled his crown from behind her back and he jumped up and down and fanned himself, then reached for it with gimme hands. Henry had forgotten how childlike and full of excitement that Jasp could be whenever he had something great in front of him, but Charlotte seemed to be super warm and soft to his less than classy reactions. Well, she knew who she was marrying, Henry guessed. It would have been silly for them to expect him to act any other way. 

“I am the KING!” Jasper declared.

“We really should’ve gotten this presented to him in the dressing rooms and let it be a story instead of part of the ceremony,” Piper told Henry.”

“Naw. It’s his special day and Char wants to really make him feel it.” Piper shrugged her shoulders.

“I guess.”

Charlotte told the guests, “In case any of you are wondering, Jasper buys and makes me really awesome gifts all the time, and I don’t usually get to have a huge show of affection for him, regularly…”

“Don’t worry about them,” Jasper said and waved a hand at the guests, “No offense,” he tacked on. She pulled out something small and red and he didn’t know what it was, but his spirits were so high, it wouldn’t have mattered what it was, because nothing could change his energy right now.

“This is an exact replica of my heart that I made with the project that I’ve been working on in my free time, for those custom made 3D printing organs? I scanned my own heart, made this replica, and then jazzed it up a little with some red crystals and a “tattoo” of your name… Because my heart is yours. You’re definitely king of that…” 

He stood corrected. His energy COULD change. He was in a dangerous state of euphoria. An indescribable overwhelming joy that rendered him motionless and speechless. She extended her hands and he saw the scripted “Jasper” on the center of what was basically her heart… He accepted it with shaky hands and moved in to kiss her. 

Henry tiny shreaked and said, “It’s not time for that! RINGS!” He called out. 

Piper collected the gifts back into the box and told Fisher, “You’re responsible for these now.” He grabbed a frat member and repeated the same thing to him. 

The ring exchange was pretty uneventful, considering, but whenever Jasper was told he could kiss the bride, he let it all out. It became uncomfortable after a while, with their friends and family all looking away awkwardly, like her parents and his mom, or morbidly obligated to stare, like Ray and Jake. Uncle Roscoe was taking photos and cheering, “THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ BOUT LIL’ NEPHEW! TRIED TO TELL Y’ALL!” 

Recessional

A crowned Jasper happily walked his new wife back down the aisle, to the chorus of his friends barking and this time, others joined in, Henry followed with the dogs, eager to get out to use the bathroom, Schwoz followed behind Coogie and Snek and Piper shook her head and took Fisher’s arm. “You didn’t keep ANY of them in proper order,” she said. “And where is the gift chest?” 

“Shhhh… This is a celebration, Old Henry’s sister,” Fisher said. They walked out with fake smiles plastered on. Then, he immediately rushed to go find the gift chest. Big Dog would MURDER him if he lost that thing!

The Reception

Henry paid for a wedding cake, because Charlotte’s Charlotte cake could simply be her bride’s cake and Jasper’s groom cake was a realistic looking lion, because both he and the wedding “are Leos,” but there was no way that Henry’s first wedding was not going to have a memorable cake whenever a lot of people ONLY accepted wedding invitations FOR the cake. So, Jasper had his, Charlotte had her Charlotte cake, and Henry ordered a multiple tier wedding cake with red, orange, and yellow edible flowers and similarly colored fruit cut and shaped like flowers or hearts. “I am so good at this!” he told himself.

They did all of that reception stuff - the garter, the bouquet and such. Henry was finally ready to relax, while Jasper and Char looked ready to… take on the world! “Good for them,” he said to himself.

“Yeah, they make it seem possible for everybody, right?” He heard a voice that he had come to recognize as “New Henry’s” voice say. He turned around and the guy smiled and asked, “You gonna get some cake?” Henry looked down to see that he was just standing there holding the cake cutter and he set it down. New Henry said, “This was good. Charlotte gave me a taste of her bridal cake and it was delicious! Gourmet, even. But nothing beats a well done wedding cake. That’s basically what I come to weddings for.”

“EXACTLY!” Henry finally found his voice. “Can you believe that Jasper wanted me to cover a table in Charlotte cakes and have THOSE be the “wedding cake?”

“I know Big Brother Big Dog, so yes. I can believe that he wanted that.” He laughed. “Good thing you changed his mind. This is one of the best wedding cakes I’ve ever tasted. I’m kinda an expert too. My mom made wedding cakes to pay for my college.”

“Really? Does she still make them, because I don’t really have an official cake person for my business references.”

“Yeah, she does. I’ll give her your number,” New Henry said. Henry nodded, excitedly and pulled out his phone. “Also, I’ll take it too… If… You want to ever… I mean, I know we’ve only hung out doing the wedding stuff and only know each other through Jasper and Charlotte, but…”

Henry’s eyes were wide and he wondered, Is this super hot dude hitting on me right now??? Because, he had not been on a date or anything in ages and even whenever he used to, it was exclusively with girls/women, but he had never really thought about a guy before and… who knows? Maybe he was into that…

“It’s okay if you don’t!” New Henry said, seeing his hesitation.

“It’s not that. I just didn’t know if you wanted to hang out as bros or if you were like… wanting to… hang out…” Henry bit his lip nervously.

“Are you interested in hanging out with a guy?”

“I’ve just realized that I’m not against it. Never really came up before. I mean, outside of Jasper, I hadn’t ever really thought of dudes in that way. But, you’re… like super attractive and if that IS what you meant, yes. And also, if you just wanted to hang out as bros, yes too. I never get to hang out. I need a life.” Henry laughed uncomfortably. 

“Cool…” New Henry smiled and asked, “You wanna dance?”

“Yes. Yes, I do!” Henry practically cheered. 

“Okay. Also… My name is Craig… You… know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” Henry said.

“Because I just told you?”

“Correct!” 

.

Jasper wore his crown for the rest of the night and Charlotte felt like he was never going to take the thing off. He kept calling her Mrs. Dunlop, then saying, “Excuse me, Mrs. JASPER Dunlop,” to which she’d think, Excuse me, Mrs. Charlotte Dunlop! But, she let him have these moments of joy. They had about a week to get settled into married life, wouldn’t be able to have a honeymoon yet, and both would have a TON of work whenever they got back to the lab and the firm. So, for now, it was just all that they could do - enjoy each other for what they were and what they had just become, together.