#I felt like an idiot explaining /oh yeah I miss a game about magic school fake adventures and people who doesn’t even fucking exist

[writer-akihiko]

Hi, I wanted to request a scenario for the dorm leaders separately where him and S/o are dating. Grim comes running to find him and tell him Crowley was sending S/o back to their world. So the dorm leader goes running into Crowley's office and plead S/o to stay in twisted wonderland, telling them how much they love them and admitting they want to get married when they graduate. S/o agrees to stay, but explains that Crowley only gave the option to go back and Grim just assumed they were leaving.

Dorm Leaders + MC's Chance To Leave

So I have to be honest, this was a little challenging for me since I didn't want to repeat the same scenario, so some scenarios turned out a little more angsty than the others, so please be warned of that

Besides that, I had a lot of fun on the reactions of the Dorm Leaders! Please enjoy! Cut for length

"Hoi! Dorm Leader!!"

A furry cat ran up to the Dorm Leader, in full panic as his swishing tail flickered anxiously.

"Listen here!" Grim pawed at the student's feet, the mention of your name catching his attention. "YN's leaving! You have to go and stop her! I overheard her in Crowley's office!"

"…What?"

Malleus Draconia

He summoned as much magic as he could, transporting him to the principal's door and blasting the door open

"YN…!"

He was truly scared, and his fear translated through his own magic as the whole school felt the earthquakes

The draconic fae hugged you tight, his much larger frame engulfing you completely. "YN, please don't go… I don't know what I'd do without you so please…"

"Wait-"

"No, please let me finish," He said, his finger silencing you. "YN, I love you. I love you my dear, more than you'd possibly know. I want to do so much with you. I want to marry you once I was done with school, and I was hoping to take you to the Valley of Thorns!..."

"My Queen, please consider staying with me."

Despite his desperate grip, you patted his head, giggling at the confession.

"Tsunotarou… I'm not going anywhere."

Crowley coughed, "M-My my… What a passionate proclamation of love…"

Malleus was utterly confused, but all he understood was that you weren't leaving him

You explained the whole situation, although you had to tease your precious fae for overreacting

"Tsunotarou~ Should I prepare my wedding dress now?"

The Prince of the Faes has never blushed harder…

Riddle Rosehearts

He hoped he wasn't too late, as he raced down the halls, abandoning every rule he himself established in the dorms

"YN! You're not allowed to leave me!"

His face reddened with rage and despair, anticipating for the worse as he fell to the ground

He felt the familiar touch of you, as you held his cheek

He reached out to you, confessing his worries

"YN, if you really leave me... I don't think I can handle it anymore. You mean so much to me... If you're leaving me, at least know that I love you to the point I want to have a wedding right after graduation!-"

"R-Riddle... you really want to marry me?" You shied away, hiding your face in your hands

"Of course!" He protested. "You're the only one I'd be on my knees for, so please... don't leave."

You couldn't help but let out a laugh at such a serious moment like this. "Riddle... I never planned to. I turned down Crowley's offer. I'm staying here... with you. So don't cry, Riddle."

He felt like an utter idiot for believing Grim

"O-Of course! I'm... Thank you for staying with me, YN."

Kalim Al-Asim

He dropped everything he was doing, racing to the principal's door

Jamil was the unfortunate soul who had to clean up after him

Kalim didn't want to miss you, he just had so much so say to you

When he burst in the room, Crowley protested the sudden interruption

He was quickly silenced by Kalim throwing a pillow at him

"YN! My beautiful Zahra!" He proclaimed, getting on one knee. "My Zahra, will you marry me?"

"W-What?"

"If you marry me this instance, you'd consider not going back!" He cried, the tears soaking his shirt. "YN, I don't… Don't go… What am I supposed to do?"

You wiped away your lover's tears, kissing them away

"Kalim, I never planned to. I'm staying here with you, my sweet prince, even if I can go back," You said, brushing the ends of his hair

"R-Really?"

You nodded, your cheeks warming at the thought of Kalim's sudden proposal. "Y-Yeah… Did you mean to marry me though?"

"YN, I'd propose to you over and over again if that's what you want."

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul snapped, crushing the contract he was preparing for some student that harassed you the other day

He was in denial at first, but he wasn't about to take any chances

If he had to keep you here by a contract, he'd do so

"Crowley! What is the meaning of this?!"

He protectively pulled you into his arms, stating his purpose. "YN, you are not going back," He turned to you. "You don't know if it works! It could be a scam! You're safer with me-"

"Azul, you're-"

"YN," He faced you, bringing his gloved hand under you chin. "Don't underestimate my love for you. If Crowley… If he didn't step in, I'd propose to you by graduation and I'd bring you the Sea to meet my parents and-"

"Azul, my adorable octopus. I didn't agree to go back," You said, setting your boyfriend straight. "I'm not going anytime soon, not away from you that is."

Most would've expected him to be in tears when hearing you were leaving, but Azul was a sobbing mess hearing that you stayed

"R-Really? YN… Thank you, thank you my Angelfish for staying with me…" He sobbed into your shirt, swaying into the hug

"You shouldn't underestimate my love for you either, my future husband."

Idia Shroud

Idia almost broke the game controller in his hands, his jaw agape at Grim

"Extra… You shouldn't be telling me lies…"

Idia, of course had to set out on a quest to reverse the fate of this story!...

He rushed to the den of the wicked, and there the trickster principal was tempting you to go back!

"YN! Don't fall for his schemes!" He cried, his hair of flames burning brighter than before. "I… I won't let you go back home!"

Ortho, at his side, dutifully restrained the crow from retorting anything as Idia tried to convince you to not leave

"YN… Just say anything and I'll give it to you. Just don't go!!" He said. "Is it because you thought I was hiding something from you? If it's that, I'm willing to show you!"

He rustled a paper out of his jacket, unfurling it to reveal a design of a ring…

"Here!" He presented, at this point quite desperate to keep you here. "I-It's the ring I plan to propose you with! It was supposed to be after my graduation, where you could be next to me all the time…"

You cupped the face of your frantic boyfriend, hushing him

"Idia, sweetie, I agreed to stay even before you came," You explained, telling him that you never planned to leave as well how you appreciated his notion of marriage

Idia pulled you into a tight hug, happy that you never gave up on him

"YN, I'll try to make you as happy as I can!"

Leona Kingscholar

To everyone's surprise, Leona's first instinct wasn't a fit of rage. Instead, the second prince went into a burst of tears with hits frustration

"YN… There's no way she would…"

He had to prove himself wrong. He had to

Otherwise he'd might just break then and there

"YN! Where are you?..."

He almost worried if he were too late

He couldn't explain the bloom of relief that swelled in his chest as he saw you still in this world

He grabbed you by the shoulders, unexpected words spilling from his lips

"YN, did I mean nothing to you? Was I nothing when you showed me love?!" He cried out, his tears flowing freely. "Was… Was I even worth it? Was I?"

He sunk to his knees, as he gave up all hope for you to stay

"I wanted to make you mine… I wanted to marry you and live with just the two of us…" He sobbed, his claws digging into his own skin

"Was I that easy to forget?"

He didn't expect the warmth of your hug comforting him. "No Leona," You said, shedding a few tears yourself. "I could never forget you, which is why I chose to stay. I'm never leaving you, not even for my old life."

"YN… you really scared me, y'know?"

Vil Schoenheit

Vil wanted to crush that cat under his heels for bringing such dreadful news to him

He made his way to the principal's room, voicing his very annoyance the moment he barged in

"Principal! How dare you manipulate my sweet potato!"

He cuddled you in his arms, lulling sweet words into your ears in hopes of driving whatever rubbish you had to hear from Crowley

"My sweet potato, I… Please consider staying with me," He said, his hands ghosting over yours. "I… Just let me give everything to you if that's what you want! You can do anything, I just want you…"

You were about to say something, but Vil thought it was a retort of protest

"I had been planning everything for the moment I propose after graduation! I can't let that bird ruin that!" He cried, trying to hear a word of approval from you. "My… My beloved. Please stay with me."

You nodded, bestowing a kiss on your lover

"Vil, I'm flattered," You admitted. "But I was already planning to stay. I could never consider letting you go."

Vil couldn't stop himself from lifting you up and twirling you around. "Oh, my beloved! You're staying with me!" He repeated over and over again, enjoying the giggles that came from your lips

He set you down, realising your furry companion lied to him

"YN, I really want to crush that furball that tails you…"

"Vil!"

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hi yes im still alive

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--

HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE

AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--

***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***

Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!

First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.

Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed

Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED

Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.

Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--

I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.

BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--

NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL

AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS

JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--

Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF. 

LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).

And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.

AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE

I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--

Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--

Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.

CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????

WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--

askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!

How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?

OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE

Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????

MAN.

I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.

So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil. 

There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.

Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?

They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?

Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!

In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.

A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.

I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.

The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.

In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!

(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)

... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad. 

Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!

[spine-buster]

t h e  c o l o u r  o f  a  c o n s t e l l a t i o n  | elias pettersson

Summary: Life comes at you in moments.  Elias and Svea are on solid ground now.  Back in Vancouver after an idyllic time in Sweden, they are faced with personal decisions that will affect their future together – both on separate and different paths professionally, though personally their connection is stronger than ever.  Many things are up in the air, but one thing that Svea and Elias know for sure is that they will always be together.  So how hard could those decisions be?

Word Count: 15k

A/N:  This is the final part of “The Space Series” although there will be an epilogue (because this bitch loves an epilogue).  It’s a bit more piece-y than I wanted it to be, but at the end of the day I’m still proud of it and I hope you enjoy!  We need more Petey love around here!

PART ONE - MADE OF OUTER SPACE  //  PART TWO - LIPS LIKE THE GALAXY’S EDGE

Svea got the text message from Grace while she was in class.  I’m here to pick you up.  Don’t ask questions.  And don’t check your notifications.

Svea did as she was told, but that didn’t mean that her heart wasn’t beating out of her chest as she left her seminar room and saw Grace’s Porsche at the bottom of the steps of the building.  When she approached, Grace reached over and opened the car door.  “What’s going on?” she asked, sliding into the passenger’s seat and clutching her messenger bag against her chest.

“The stupid media picked up your stupid boyfriend saying he has a girlfriend on a stupid camera, and now it’s everywhere,” Grace explained in an annoyed voice, signalling to rejoin the road.  She was very clearly annoyed, judging by how fast she rejoined the other cars and by the rev of her engine.  “You know, for such a quiet guy he’s got a big mouth.”

“And how do they know it’s me?”  Svea knew how stupid that question sounded the millisecond after it left her mouth.  She and Grace gave each other the exact same knowing look, one that said absolutely everything that needed to be said between the two of them.  It began happening as they grew closer, and now, it happened almost all the time.  “Never mind.  Why can’t I check my notifications?”

“Because God knows what’s going on in your DMs right now,” Grace warned.  “Anyways, what do you want to do?  Go shopping?  Go for a manicure?  How about we go for a manicure so you can’t check your phone.”

Svea couldn’t help but laugh.  She knew Grace was protective – had been since that night she came over to Elias’s place with Pippa and Svea was making sausage stroganoff – but this was taking it to a whole other level.  “Do you think it would be that bad?”

“If it’s anything like what I got from Brock’s fan club, then yeah, it’s pretty awful,” Grace said.  “And I’m serious – manicures?  You’re going to have to start getting them regularly if you want to be a hot shot lawyer,” she winked.  “Or, I don’t know, the speechwriter for Chrystia Freeland or Justin Trudeau.  Whatever you choose.”

***

When Svea walked into hers and Elias’s apartment later that day, after she’d been pampered with some Starbucks, a manicure, and a pedicure, and even a cheeky mimosa by Grace, she found Elias lying down on the couch scrolling through his phone.  She put down her bag in its usual spot before walking over to him and lying on top of him without warning.  After an entire day without him, she wanted to get close to him, to feel every inch of him.  

Elias smiled as she nestled into him, ditching his phone and paying complete attention to her.  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him.  When he kissed her, she sighed into the kiss, knowing that she was home and in her favourite place: the place where she felt the warmest, the most protected, the happiest she ever could feel – in his arms, of course.  And as they continued kissing on the couch, not bothering to stop for air – because really, who needed air when you were kissing the love of your life? – Elias shifted their bodies so Svea was on her back, and he was on his side perching himself up with one arm while the other snuck under her button-up shirt.  With his hand gliding against her bare skin and his tongue down her throat, Svea moaned slightly.  Elias took the opportunity to start unbuttoning her shirt to expose her bra.

“Elias…” she breathed out.

“Shhh…” he kissed along her jawline and down her neck.  His hand groped her breast.  He pushed the fabric of the cup down and began kissing along the curve of her breast until he reached her nipple, sucking on it gently.  Her back arched up to him.  “I missed you,” he finally hummed.  

“I was gone for eight hours,” she huffed out as she felt his tongue slip along her skin.  Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt him move towards her other breast.  She was gone at least a few hours some days because of classes, so it wasn’t like her absence was out of the ordinary.

“Too long.”  He sucked on her other breast.  When he heard her moan again, he kissed a trail back up to her lips.  Eventually, he grabbed at her wrist – the one wearing the bracelet he got her in Stockholm – and placed a kiss on the inside of it tenderly.  She was trembling by the loss of his lips on her skin, but she smiled at the gesture.  “Hello pretty girl,” he cooed playfully.  

“You’re the worst,” she huffed again, annoyed this time.  

“How was your day?”

She couldn’t believe she was sprawled out on their couch with her shirt unbuttoned and her bra pushed down with her breasts exposed and Elias was asking her how her day was.  He was playing a game and she knew it.  “Besides the fact that I still don’t know what I’m doing with my life?  Fine,” she said.  “How was your day?  I heard microphones are really strong these days.”

Elias closed his eyes and groaned.  He buried his head in her chest and shook his head.  “I’m sorry.  I’m an idiot sometimes.  Brock told me that for such a quiet guy I have a big mouth.”

Svea snorted at the reference.  For all that Grace and Brock liked to say Svea and Elias were the same person, she and Brock were astoundingly similar as well.  “Grace said that too.”

“Well, you know how they are,” he said, resting his chin against her chest, in the space between her breasts.  

Svea ran her fingers through his hair.  “It’s fine, Elias.”

“Is it though?” he asked, worried.  “I don’t want anybody to bother you.  Not now, not ever.  But especially this year when you have so much to figure out.”

“They’ll just be noise.  They’re not a part of my life,” she assured him.  “Not like you.”

Elias sighed, moving up and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.  He inhaled sharply, smelling her scent that he loved so much.  She smelled like everything he loved about her – flowers; vanilla; lavender; the saltwater waves of the Baltic Sea crashing again the Swedish shore; the crisp Swedish air during an early morning, though now it was later in the day and they were in downtown Vancouver.  She was magic to him, made of the moon and stars, and he wanted to keep her safe and happy as much as possible now that it was out in the open, however unwillingly, due to his big mouth.  “I love you,” he mumbled.

“I love you too,” she said easily.  Easily because she knew – it was the only thing she was certain about in life these days.  “Can you do me a favour?”

“What’s that?”

“Can you keep using your tongue, Elias?” she asked boldly, a small smirk playing on her face.  She was getting more confident with all of this – not just their new situation, but the activities that accompanied their new situation.  She felt safe and listened to and respected and catered to whenever she was in bed with Elias, always satisfied.  Elias, for his part, was also getting more confident with everything.  

“Oh?” he arched his brow at her words.  “Keep using my tongue, eh?”

“Eh?  Canada’s really getting to you.”

“Mmm,” he mumbled, kissing her chest.  “Let’s git er done,” he put on an accent.

Svea burst out laughing, shaking her head and pushing him away like she was disgusted with him as he tried to continue to kiss her.  She began wiggling to get out of his grip.  “Nooooo no no no no, not after you said that with that accent!”  She knew his teammates were responsible for that bit of lingo coupled with the accent, and while it was hilarious, she wasn’t exactly happy with it.  She knew Elias would use it constantly now.  

“Come ooonnn!” he begged, laughing and grabbing at her body so she wouldn’t wiggle away.

“We lost the moment the second you put on that accent!”

>< >< >< >< ><

Svea loved the UBC campus.  It was so beautiful, with enough old buildings to make it feel regal but enough new buildings to make it feel modern.  And the trees – God, the trees – the campus was full of lush trees, so many and so close to the water.  When she was stressed, she could always take a walk down the coast and admire the Pacific Ocean, the mountains in the distance, and the crisp British Columbia air.  After being at UBC for going on four years now, she understood why her mother loved it here so much; why it was so hard for her to give up when she moved to Sweden to be with Svea’s dad; why she constantly talked about it growing up, like it was some magical place not fit for the real world.  Svea understood now.  She thought the same things.  She didn’t think she’d ever be lucky enough to experience the things that her mother did growing up in Vancouver, but she did; she got that experience now, in university, with her own love of her life.

Despite all the stress in her life and the looming decisions she had to make, she at least had that: Elias, the love of her life.

As she grabbed her coffee from the barista and made her way to the seminar room, where she’d spend two hours learning about global uprisings, she thought about the decision she’d have to make this year.  On the one hand, she could go to law school – another three years of school, articling, and then pass the bar (all hopefully in British Columbia), and then she could join a firm or open her own.  She was already prepped and signed up to write the LSAT.  On the other hand, she could apply to the Masters of Public Policy and Global Governance program – another year and a half of school, gain her Masters, and then hopefully work in politics, but in the background, like a chief of staff or a senior advisor or even a speechwriter.  She had all the prerequisites and knew she could get in.  

But which one did she want to do?

Svea settled into her seat beside her friend Devansh, greeting him with pleasant conversation while taking out her laptop, notebook, and textbook, flipping it open to the chapter that she knew the professor would be lecturing about.  Her big decision seemed to be the only thing she thought about these days besides Elias.  But the more she thought about it, the more stressed she got.  And the more stressed she got, the more—

“So, like, you’re dating Elias Pettersson?” her friend Francesca asked as she plopped down into the seat beside her dramatically.  Instead of grabbing her notebook and laptop out of her bag like she usually did, she was intently focused on Svea who was sipping on her coffee innocently.  

“Wait – Elias Pettersson, like from the Vancouver Canucks?” Devansh perked up once he heard the name being tossed around.  “That can’t be…that’s not…no.”

“Wow, Dev,” Svea deadpanned.

“Wait – you are?” his eyebrows raised.

“H-How did you know?” Svea focused back on Francesca, still perky, still not taking out her laptop, still not taking out her notebooks.  

“So apparently Petey said something on camera?  And this journalist from the Vancouver Sun, like, scoured his Instagram and his tagged photos and found your profile kept popping up tagged in pictures with him, so the two and two were put together, and there’s an article about it on their website today!  It came up as a notification on my phone!” Francesca held up her phone as if it was still there.  It wasn’t – it was full of Snapchat notifications, but the point still stood.  “I mean, they’re right, aren’t they?  Svea Nilsson…you are dating Elias Pettersson?”

Svea was mortified.  Elias had the common sense to just say he had a girlfriend out loud, not broadcast her name for the microphones to pick up too, but they’d found her profile anyway – by stalking his, essentially.  She thought things would die down, especially because her profile had always been private, and though she did get some intense DMs like Grace knew she would, there wasn’t a bombardment and she’d just deleted them all without looking at them.  Now that her name was published in a newspaper, she had an entirely new problem on her hands.

She noticed Dev and Francesca were still waiting for an answer.  “I…yeah, I’m dating him,” she said meekly, not wanting to say too much.

“How did you even meet him?” Francesca asked.  “I mean, no offence, but you don’t exactly come out with us a lot.”

“He’s my childhood best friend,” she said, immediately putting an end to the notion that she’d met him at some bar.  “I…I grew up with him.  We’ve been best friends since we were three and he essentially followed me to Vancouver because I came here first.  He’s the person I live with and—”

“Wait – you live with him?!” Dev was shocked at her revelation.  Svea was always pretty secretive of why she never moved into a place near campus after first year, and always eluded questions as to how she was able to afford a pricey apartment in Yaletown.  Now he knew.  “You live with him and that’s why you live in Yaletown?”

“Yeah.  We…” she stopped herself, not wanting to reveal too much.  “It’s…I’m dating him, okay?”

“Svea, this is huge,” Francesca’s tone was a mix of serious and excited.  

Francesca said it as if Svea didn’t know how much of a big deal it was that she was dating the biggest star on the Vancouver Canucks.  Svea knew how much of a big deal it was.  Clearly.  If people from newspapers were stalking Elias’s profile to see who she was, it was a big deal.  It was just that, Elias, as a person, wasn’t a big deal to her.  He was her best friend.  He wasn’t the star first line centre.  “Yeah, I know.”

“Massive,” Dev commented too.  “Well I’m happy for you if you’re happy, Svea.”

“Secure that bag, girl,” Francesca quipped.

Before Svea’s jaw dropped, and before her brain could function to say anything to Francesca, their professor walked into the room and greeted the class loudly, thus ending their conversation.  He almost immediately started lecturing.  

Svea began typing, and Francesca was scrambling to get everything out of her bag.

>< >< >< >< ><

“It’s ready, pretty girl,” Elias called from the kitchen as he finished stirring the pasta in its sauce.  He looked over at Svea sitting at the dining room table, head in a giant textbook that looked menacing to him.  She looked so concentrated and focused on what she was reading, but when she heard his voice, she looked up momentarily.  She let out a loud sigh.  

Elias remembered back to the summer, back in Sweden, when they went to Emma Gardner’s dinner party and he was intimidated by Soren’s supposed ‘smarts’ and how emotional he got by it all the next morning.  When they came back to Vancouver and Svea began her last year of university, he wanted to change things.  As much as they resolved the issue right then and there, he knew he needed to do more – and he was willing to do more.  He was making a big effort to be in the know – not exactly to understand everything she was studying, but to at least know what it was.  Now that he was with Svea, he wasn’t the most important person in his life anymore – it was her.  He needed her to know that.  He made sure to show it to her every day, through his actions, his words, and his priorities when he was away from hockey.  

When he brought the plates over, he wouldn’t set hers down in front of her until she kissed him.  The textbook was cleared by then, off to the side where she didn’t have to look at it while she ate with him.  When they came back to Vancouver and she began her last year of university, she wanted to change things.  She made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t be distracted by school work during meals, especially meals with Elias.  She could tell Elias was making a huge effort to know more about her studies, and she wanted to reciprocate.  There was no way she wouldn’t put in the same effort he was into the relationship.  Now that she was with Elias, she wasn’t the most important person in her life anymore – it was him.  She needed him to know that.  She made sure to show it to him every day, through her actions, her words, and her priorities when she wasn’t engaging with school.  

“Everything okay?” he asked as he settled into his seat across from her after their kiss.

She nodded her head.  “Just reading about the Cuban Revolution.”

“Is it interesting?” he asked.

“Interesting enough,” she shrugged.  She began digging into her pasta in vodka sauce.  Now that Elias had finally mastered the art of cooking some pasta, and didn’t over or undercook it every time, she could enjoy him making dinner at least once or twice a week now.  Though the first time he cooked ravioli was an absolute fucking shit show (there was spinach and ricotta floating everywhere in the pot because he left them in too long and they all burst open), he’d gotten the hang of penne, spaghetti, and fettucine.  “How was the gym with Brock?”

“Same old,” he answered, eating his pasta.  “Grace told him how much you were screaming at the game the other night.”

Svea snorted.  She’s almost embarrassed herself by how much she was screaming and swearing.  She didn’t know what came over her.  “It was pretty bad.  I’m surprised she left with me, to be honest.  She wasn’t even that loud, and you know how she gets.”

“I can’t believe it took Vancouver to get you to scream at my games,” Elias quipped.

Svea laughed, but the comment panged her a little bit.  Growing up in Sweden, she was always at his games, but her head was, as Brigitte so lovingly put it, ‘always in a book instead of in his lap’.  It wasn’t that she didn’t care – because she did, she knew how much hockey meant to Elias – it was just that she had different interests.  But she was always there; she always supported him.  Suddenly, she wondered if that was enough.  “Did…did that make you mad?” she asked softly.

“Did what make me mad?”

“Me being quiet at your games growing up.  Me having a book in the stands and reading in between periods,” she said.  He knew because the girls told him as a means of gossip.  “Like, did you hate it?”

“Of course not,” he furrowed his brows.  “Why would I hate that?”

“I don’t know…”

“Svea, I hate nothing about you,” Elias said.  “Not even the fact that you’ve started to talk in your sleep sometimes.”

“I do not.”

“Yes you do.”

“Then what do I say?”

“Oooooh, Elias, right there.”

She kicked him underneath the table, but he was ready for it, grabbing her foot with his free hand.  “You’re an ass,” she sneered.

“So you don’t have wet dreams about me?”

“You wish,” she stuck her tongue out like a child, causing him to smile and laugh.  

“For what it’s worth,” he began, trailing his hand up her leg, “I didn’t care about any of that.  You reading at games or whatever.  You’re your own person, Svea.  I don’t care what anybody said.  The fact that you were there was enough for me – like, the fact that I could see you in the stands with my family or whatever.  When you made it back to Vaxjo after flying in from Vancouver, and you watched me score that game winning goal and then surprised me on the ice – Svea, that was, like, one of the greatest moments of my life.  And it wasn’t because I’d just won the championship.  It was because you were there for it.”

Svea smiled.  Elias knew to say all the right things, but what was better than just saying them was knowing that he meant them, fully and completely.  “I love you, Elias.”

“I love you too, Svea.  More than anything,”

There was a comfortable silence between them as they ate dinner, Svea’s foot still propped up in Elias’s lap after she’d tried to kick him.  “Are you going to be able to come to the game on Saturday?” he asked once they were almost finished.

She nodded.  “I’ll finish this reading tonight easily and I’ll be back yelling in no time.”

“Good,” he smiled.  “I like it when you’re loud.”

She kicked him again.

***

“Brock reminded me that Grace is setting the date soon for the next Parkinson’s gala,” Elias said later that night, after dinner and after clean up and Svea finished her reading and after they cuddled on the couch and after they watched a few episodes of Jeopardy at Svea’s request like an old married couple.  They’d gotten themselves ready for bed and Svea watched as Elias fluffed up their pillows while she pulled the covers back.  

“That’ll be fun,” Svea said.  “Every time we’ve gone it’s been a blast.  I can’t wait.”

“And we have Dice and Ice again this year too.  I wonder if they’ll make me play Family Feud again,” he mused as they both got into bed.

Svea giggled.  “Maybe this time you can announce to six hundred people that you finally have a girlfriend – oh wait, you already did that a few weeks ag—HEY!”

Elias pulled her into his body in one quick tug and wrapped his arms around her, peppering her face with kisses as she began to laugh at the sensation.  He flipped her around so she was beneath him.  “Yeah yeah, I’ve got a big mouth, I know,” he mumbled against the skin of her neck as he bit down on it gently.

“Mmm,” Svea hummed, enjoying the feeling like she always did.  “How about you remind me what else you can do with that mouth.”

A low chuckle erupted from deep within Elias.  “With pleasure,” he smiled devilishly.  Almost immediately, he shoved her old t-shirt (technically, his old t-shirt) up and over her head and moved down her body.  He hooked his fingers into the hem of her shorts and pulled them off too, watching as he saw a smirk appear on her face.  “What’s got you smiling, pretty girl?”

“You,” she purred.  “I’ll always regret waiting so long to be with you.  We could have had so much more time together.”

Elias brought himself back up, placing a tender kiss on her lips.  “Don’t regret that.  We have the rest of our lives together, pretty girl.  We always did.”

Svea smiled, pulling him down by the neck to kiss him again.  The universe knew that them being together was always endgame; it just took them longer to realize.  She liked Elias’s optimism – not focusing on what was in the past, but instead focusing on the future.  “Elias…” she mumbled in between kisses.

“Hmm?”

“Show me I’m yours,” she whispered.  She knew it would set him off completely, just like it did the first time, just like it did subsequent times since.  “Show me I’m yours, Elias.”

He audibly groaned, slipping his way back down her body before forcing her legs apart and lowering his face between them, lapping and sucking so expertly that Svea was squirming within no time.  Her pants and callouts of his name only fueled him as time went on, and when she ran her fingers through his blonde hair and tugged on it, he let out his own groan.

“Fuuuuuck,” she breathed out, tugging on his hair even more.  “You’re so…your tongue is so good Elias.”  He moaned at the sound of her voice, the vibrations causing her to squirm even more.  He brought his arm around her thigh and held her hips down.  It made her huff out in slight frustration.  “Elias.”

His only response was to push down harder.  Her response was to pull his hair as tight as she could and squeeze his head between her thighs.  All the while, he kept up his movements, looking up at her with his striking, beady blue eyes.  “You taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he mumbled against her wet lips.  “So sweet for me.”

“Elias—”

“Are you gonna cum on my face, pretty girl?”

Svea nodded her head fervently.  “I’m so close.”

“Mmmmm,” he hummed, the vibrations yet again making her squirm.  “Cum for me, Svea.”

Svea arched her back, and after a few short moments, she was screaming out his name, squeezing his head in between her thighs even tighter than before.  Elias kept lapping until she calmed down, sucking up the last of her juices before looking up at her again.  “I could taste you all day, pretty girl,” he mumbled against her lips, the last thing he did before moving up her body and placing open-mouthed kisses and dragging his lips along her stomach and up to her breasts.

“I need you inside of me right now,” she said, her breath hot and frantic as she moved to wrap her legs around him.  

“So impatient,” Elias mused.

“Fuck me, Elias.  I can’t wait anymore.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.  When she felt him enter her, quickly and in one swift movement, she dug her nails into the skin on his shoulder blades and almost immediately rocked her hips against his, trying to get him even deeper.  “Svea…” he groaned out, feeling how deep he was inside of her.  “Svea…fuck, you’re desperate, aren’t you?”

She nodded.  She couldn’t help it.  She was desperate.  She was always desperate for him.  Desperate for his voice, his touch, the sound of him, his smile, his laugh, how he filled her up, how he felt above her and beneath her – everything about him.  “You like it when I’m loud, right?” she asked.

Elias’s eyes bulged for a moment.  “Y—Yes.”

“You want me to be loud?”

His pupils dilated.  “Yes.”

“Let me ride you.”

Svea wrapped her arms around Elias so he would stay inside her before he turned onto his back.  She quickly got comfortable, adjusting slightly, and Elias brought his hands up and their hands intertwined, letting her lean against his elbows so she had something to brace against.  When she began to rock back and forth slowly, he let out a groan.  “You feel incredible, baby,” Svea said as she quickened her pace slightly.  

“You do, too,” Elias said quickly.  She began to moan loudly, like she knew he wanted and liked, and she could see his eyes practically roll to the back of his head.  Elias liked knowing that it was him who made her feel this way.  As she continued her noises, he didn’t know where to focus – her hips, her breasts, her eyes, how his cock had disappeared inside her – but he knew that everything felt good.  He was left speechless by everything.

She led his hands to cup her breasts, but he had other ideas.  Instead, he used his arms to push himself up so he could kiss them instead, his hands on her back.  He remembered back to their little rendezvous at the lake during Midsommar, what she’d done and the quiet confidence in which she’d done it.  He had obviously never done anything like that before.  “When we get married these are going to be all mine,” he mumbled against her breasts, licking at the space on her chest where he remembered his cum covering her.

“They already are,” Svea mumbled, lost in the feeling.  She brought her hands up to run through his hair so she could tug on it and so he could look her in the eye.  When he was, she said what she wanted to say – what she knew he wanted to hear.  “I’m all yours.”

Elias smiled.  “I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” Svea repeated.

They kissed, wet and sloppy, and Svea could feel herself getting close again.  She dug her nails into the skin at the nape of Elias’s neck.  When he felt her walls tighten around him, and heard her cries of pleasure at the feeling, he came completely undone as well.  They clung on to each other, riding out their highs for a long as they could until they finally settled down, their breathing laboured and shaky, their chests heaving less and less as the time went by.  Neither let go of each other.  There was no need to.

Elias slipped out of her slowly, and Svea whimpered at the loss of feeling him fill her.  He wrapped his arms around her as he fell back slowly, laying them on the bed.  They stayed close, wrapped in each other, giving each other quick, soft kisses.  “I love you,” Elias mumbled, his voice tired.  

Svea smiled slightly.  “I love you too.”

>< >< >< >< ><

An advertising executive must schedule the advertising during a particular television show. Seven different consecutive time slots are available for advertisements during a commercial break, and are numbered one through seven in the order that they will be aired. Seven different advertisements – B, C, D, F, H, J, and K – must be aired during the show. Only one advertisement can occupy each time slot. The assignment of the advertisements to the slots is subject to the following restrictions:      • B and D must occupy consecutive time slots.      • B must be aired during an earlier time slot than K.      • D must be aired during a later time slot than H.      • If H does not occupy the fourth time slot, then F must occupy the fourth time slot.      • K and J cannot occupy consecutively numbered time slots.

Svea read over the logic puzzle three times, breathing harder every time.  She wrote the requisite lines and letters.  She moved on to the first questions.

1. Which of the following could be a possible list of the advertisements in the order that they are aired? a.  BDFHJCK b.  CJBHDKF c.  HBDFJCK d.  HDBFKJC e.  HJDBFKC

Svea tried not to panic as she tried to work out the first question based on the parameters presented to her.  When she took at her answer, then at the options, none of them matched.  She tried again.  No match again.  She tried not to panic irrationally, but when she tried a third time, she still couldn’t get the right answer.  She felt her cheeks heat up and her eyes start to well.  No.  No.  There’s no crying in doing logic puzzles.  She moved on to the next question, seeing if she could at least solve that one, but she couldn’t.  Okay, back to question one.  She tried a combination one more time and finally, finally found a match, so she circled the option.  

She checked her time.  Six minutes had passed, and she had five more questions to answer based on this logic puzzle alone.  On the LSAT, they got about eight minutes per entire puzzle and four puzzles, for a total of around 35 minutes for this section.  So she was severely behind.  Like, severely.  She looked at the note in the margins of her book.

This is generally considered one of the easier questions.

Svea whimpered.  Audibly.  She felt a few tears falling down her cheeks as she tried to move on to the second question, realizing it was now predicated upon the answer from the first.  Seven minutes.  And based on the wording of the question, her answer for the first one was wrong.  It wasn’t even possible.

She let out a sob.  

Eight minutes.  She’d officially already failed this section of the LSAT.  

As she tried to wipe her tears away with the backs of her hands, she heard the lightest knock on the door.  As she looked over, she saw Elias’s head peek through the doorway, a bowl in his hands.  “I brought you some raspberries,” he said softly, closing the door behind him.  “How’s it going?”

Svea shook her head and started to cry again.  “Elias…”

“Heeeyyyyy hey hey,” Elias cooed, rushing over to her and putting the bowl on the desk.  He pushed out her chair, moving it so she was facing him, and knelt down in front of her.  “What’s wrong?  What’s going on?”

“Elias, will you still love me if I fail?”

“Svea—”

“Be honest,” she interrupted.  “Will you still love me if I fail the LSAT and don’t get into law school and don’t get into grad school and just become a bum?  Will you?”

“Svea, don’t say stuff like that,” he said, running his hands up and down her thighs trying to sooth her.  

Svea shook her head fervently.  “I’m dumb.  I’m so dumb,” she whimpered out.

“You know you’re not dumb, Svea—”

“But I am!” she exclaimed.  “I couldn’t even do this logic puzzle in time.  I had eight minutes and I couldn’t do it.  And it’s one of the easier ones!  Imagine me sitting in that room trying to write the LSAT and I can’t even get past the logic puzzles!”

“Shhhhh,” he cooed, bringing his hands up to cup her face.  He began wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, still kneeling in front of her.  “Svea, you know that I love you more than anything.  I’ll love you no matter what.”

“Even if I fail?”

“You won’t fail.  But even if you fail, yes, I will still love you,” he nodded, knowing it was what she needed to hear right now.  She wouldn’t have dropped it if he didn’t say those words.  

“And here you are, bringing me raspberries like a good boyfriend and I can’t even get a log—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Elias warned.  “Svea, it’s fine.  You’re probably just very tired.  You had a day full of classes, then homework, now this.  I bet when you have a fresh and well-rested brain tomorrow, it will be much easier for you.”

Svea whimpered again, wrapping her arms around Elias and squeezing him against her chest.  He was such a good boyfriend, always bringing her snacks or water or tea without her even having to ask, and she was just being a blubbering mess.  She’d missed some of his games lately due to her studying and she felt horrible about it, and it all led to this: he was the one still comforting her about the long-term goal of why she was even studying in the first place.  

“And Svea?”

“Hmmm?”

“You know I’ll always love you.  You know that you’re going to be successful.  This is just a little bump, that’s all.”

She took a moment to consider his words.  She knew he was right, but it took her a while to digest.  She hated that it did – that it took her so long – but her mind was off right now, overtired and overworked from a full day.  “Maybe I should go to bed,” she mumbled as her head rested in the crook of Elias’s neck.

Elias didn’t even have to say anything.  All he did was move to pick her up, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and her legs wrapping around his torso, and he carried her across the apartment to his bedroom, now their bedroom, with her face still tucked.  He could feel her tears on his skin, and when he lay her down gently on the bed, he made sure to wipe the rest of them away before he began undressing her, helping tug her shirt off and pulling off her jeans, leaving her in just her underwear.  He did the same quickly, stripping down to his boxers before climbing into bed and pulling the covers over them.  

They gravitated towards each other in bed like they always did, Elias wrapping an arm around her and Svea tangling their legs together.  He began running his fingers gently through her hair and could hear her sigh, like she was letting out all her frustrations, all her nerves, and all her stress.  “I love you, pretty girl,” he said softly as he continued his motions, knowing that it would soothe her, calm her down, just like it did for him when she did so.  It was one of the best feelings in the world, when he thought about it.  

“I love you too, even when I’m in my own head too much,” she responded, her voice soft and almost a whisper, but there was enough there.  “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

>< >< >< >< ><

Back in her global uprisings course, Svea took a moment to stretch as the professor gave them a five minute bathroom and coffee break.  She debated on whether or not to go down to the main floor and get a coffee and croissant, or just stick it out until lunch time.  She made sure to save her notes before she closed her laptop.  

She’d finally gotten the hang of the logic puzzles and was doing them like crazy now.  She’d seen advertisements on the bulletin board on the main floor for LSAT prep classes, and she wondered if she should take another round of them, even though she’d taken them last year as well.  But then she had the fact that she needed to finish her application for her Master’s.  There were a few more things to do on the supplemental application and some other things she needed to perfect before submitting it.  She’d need someone to look it over.  She needed to make sure the professors she’d asked to be references actually wrote their letters.  She needed to—

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Francesca asked suddenly, snapping Svea from her thoughts.  

“I’m thinking about the LSAT,” Svea decided to be honest with her.  “The LSAT and my application to grad school.”

“The LSAT?  Grad school?” Francesca asked like it was the most absurd thing that Svea was continuing her education and applying to these programs.  “What’s the point, Svea?”

Svea furrowed her brows.  “What do you mean what’s the point?  I want to work in law and politics.  You know that.”

“I mean, what’s the point when you’re with Elias now?”

Svea’s body stiffened at Francesca’s words.  “What do you mean?  I have to make a living, Francesca.”

“Do you?  Do you really?  Isn’t Elias gonna be signing, like, a huge contract at the end of this year?  Do you honestly think you’re going to need to work to support yourself for the rest of your life when he’s going to be making, like, ten million dollars a year?  Minus endorsements?  I mean doesn’t he already support you?”

Svea was taken aback by Francesca’s line of questioning, and, to be honest, deeply hurt by it as well.  Did Svea give off the airs and graces that she was fine with being a kept woman?  Had she ever made it seem like she didn’t want to do anything with her life?  That she didn’t care?  She didn’t think she did ever.  But for some reason, Francesca was bringing it up.  “Francesca, I can’t let my boyfriend support me for the rest of my life.”

“You can’t?  Because I can,” she quipped.  She said it in a joking manner but Svea knew she was completely serious.  The next line of questioning confirmed it for her.  “I mean, does Elias have any teammates?  Brock Boeser maybe?  Or is he still with that Gillespie girl?  The billionaire?”

Svea furrowed her brows.  She didn’t like the direction this conversation was going, and she didn’t want Francesca anywhere near Brock or Grace.  “They’re still together.  He’s madly in love with her,” she mumbled before turning away from her and back to her laptop.

“Damn.  Should’ve told me you were dating Elias earlier so I could’ve jumped at the chance.”

“Hmm,” Svea hummed, just to acknowledge what she said.  She began typing something so Francesca would leave her alone.

When class was finished, Svea took out her phone and immediately texted Elias.

I’m going to be the most horrible housewife on the planet

Svea wtf are you talking about

Francesca said today I didn’t have to apply to law school or grad school because now I have you to take care of me It was the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever heard

Not even thirty seconds later, her phone began to ring.  When she picked it up, Elias didn’t even greet with any formalities.  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, too,” he said.  “I mean, who says something like that?”

“Someone who wishes she was kept, I guess.  I mean, she asked about Brock afterwards and I had to break her heart and tell her that he’s still madly in love with Grace.”

“What do you mean kept?”

“It’s a saying.  It’s like a girl who has a nice and lavish lifestyle because of a rich man,” she explained.

Elias was silent on the other end trying to understand what Svea was explaining to him.  “Did she just call you a prostitute?  Or one of those sugarbaby things or whatever?”

Svea snorted.  “In her own way, probably.  I mean, when you think about it…” Svea tried to joke, seeing the humour in the situation, finally.  Elias did pay for most things and Svea did enjoy a nice, comfortable life because of it – an apartment in Yaletown, access to a luxury car, an $8000 gold bracelet screwed onto her wrist…

But that didn’t mean she was kept.  They were equal partners in their relationship.  There was no power dynamic.  Elias didn’t do those things and provide her with what he did because he wanted to control her, or because he wanted to have sex with her, or because he wanted to keep her at home all the time doing nothing besides looking pretty and being ready in bed for him.  He did it because he genuinely loved her, because she was his best friend, his soulmate, his sun and his moon and his stars, and because he could, because what the hell else was he going to do with all this money?  Spend it on himself?  He already did that and there was a ton left over.  Who better to spend it on than Svea?  

“What is it with everyone trying to get into our business?  We’re happy this way.  It works for us.  What the fuck does it matter?” Elias asked.  “And why is everybody so obsessed with money?”

“It makes the world turn, Elias.”

She heard him huff on the other end.  “Just…don’t worry about what she says.  It doesn’t matter.  You’re going to law school or grad school or you’re doing what you want to do and that’s that.”

“Why did I have to love debating in high school?  Why did I have to like law and politics?  Why couldn’t I have loved to bake and like…I don’t know, opened up some hipster coffee shop here or in Stockholm and just made coffee and cake and cookies all day?”

“Because then you wouldn’t have been Svea,” Elias said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “You would have been someone else.  And I don’t know who that someone else is, but it’s not you.”

And he was right.  He was so fucking right that Svea was taken aback by the simplicity of his words but just how deep they were; how they hit the nail right on the head and how they were just so…right.  She wouldn’t be the same person if she never debated, if she was never a precarious kid checking out books at the library.  She wouldn’t be the same person if she had baked cakes and cookies and opened some hipster coffee shop with vegan treats made exclusively from organic ingredients.  She wouldn’t be the same Svea.  She wouldn’t be the Svea Elias loved.  She wouldn’t be the Svea her friends loved.  She wouldn’t be the Svea her family loved, that Elias’s family loved.  She almost teared up for how right he was.  “Thank you, Elias,” she said softly, not knowing what else to say.

“For what?”

“For loving me the way I am.”

She could practically hear him smile bashfully on the other end.  “I love you for the way you’ve always been, too.  And the way you’ll be.”

She knew he would.  That was the best part.

>< >< >< >< ><

Svea clicked send.  

Your application to the University of British Columbia’s Master of Public Policy and Global Affairs has been received.  You will receive a confirmation email with your application number shortly.  

She took a deep breath.  Now she waited.

***

Svea clicked send.

Your application to the Peter A. Allard School of Law at the University of British Columbia has been received.  You will receive an email shortly confirming your application.

She took a deep breath.   Now she waited.

>< >< >< >< ><

“It would be chic to wear black, right?” Svea asked Grace as they scoured through the racks of dresses at Holt Renfrew, the iconic upscale Canadian department store, looking for something to wear to the upcoming Dice & Ice fundraiser the Canucks held annually.  Grace loved to shop, and she was good at it, so Svea was confident they’d find something to wear.

“Well, it’s always chic to wear black,” Grace said as she pulled out a beige coloured, skin-tight dress.  She took a good, long look at it before deciding it wasn’t the one and pushing it back in.  “But you need to spruce it up a bit.”

“Spruce it up?”

“You’ve got a great body and you need to show it off.  You’ve been wearing your knit sweaters for so long that I’ve forgotten what your boobs look like, Svea.”

She snorted.  Leave it to Grace, the professional dancer with the near perfect body, to mention her boobs.  “Grace, I barely have boobs.”

“Doesn’t matter.  You can still show off your figure.  It’s to die for.  And I’m sure Petey would love it.”

Well, that was true.  Svea kept that in her mind as they continued to look through racks and racks of dresses, never quite finding the right one, though they pulled some to try on just in case.  Grace always had something to say about the dresses Svea pulled – “You’re going to look like my uncle’s fourth ex-wife if you wear that” or “That looks like something a retired art teacher would wear”.  Svea couldn’t help but laugh.  She was thankful to have Grace along for this ride since Grace had a sense of style and what would look good on her body; if she wasn’t here, Svea wouldn’t probably end up picking a dress that made her look like a 17th century peasant woman from Croatia ready to milk the cows.  As Grace would say.

They verged into the designer departments.  Grace picked out a dress from Dolce and Gabbana, and handed one from Gucci to Svea.  They checked in Yves Saint Laurent and Versace but there was nothing.  Chloe.  Louis Vuitton.  Celine.  Miu Miu.

“What about this one?” Svea asked, pulling out a gorgeous dress from the Miu Miu rack.

From down the line, Grace looked up.  “It’s black.”  Svea took it off the bar completely, holding it against her body, showing its crystal-studded top.  “Ooooooooh,” Grace’s jaw dropped at the detailing.  She immediately let go of the dress she’d pulled out and walked over to Svea.  “Now that’s a good one.”

“You think?”

“Mhm,” she nodded her head fervently.  “Let’s go try these all on now.  I need to see that dress on you.”

The first few dresses Svea tried on and modeled for Grace didn’t “work”, according to her.  There was something off about them – a hemline, a cut, the fact that it made Svea look like a nun – that sent them back on the hanger.  But when Svea put on the Miu Miu dress she pulled, even just seeing herself in the dressing room with it half on, she knew it would look good.  “Um…I think I’m going to need to take off my bra for this one,” she called out to Grace is the dressing room beside her.  

“Then take it off.”

“There’s gonna be a lot of side-boob.  I’m not sure that’s appropriate for a gala raising money for children…”

“Nothing a little double-sided boob tape can’t fix,” Grace retorted.  “Now get out here so I can see.”

Svea pulled back the curtain.  When she did, Grace’s jaw dropped.  Grace was standing in a beautiful dress of her own, but she didn’t even care – her full attention was on Svea now, and the dress she was wearing.  “Oh…my…God,” she gave Svea a complete up-down, a giant smile forming on her face afterwards.  “This is perfect.  This is it.”

“But what about this?” Svea moved to show Grace her side profile.

“Like I said, boob tape.  But we’ll bring it to a tailor as well.  We want this thing pinched in and showing off that body.”  Grace approached her, moving them so that they stood in front of a mirror together with Grace behind her.  Svea could feel her hands on the low backline of the dress.  Grace tugged on it.  “See?” she said, getting Svea to look in the mirror.  Even just the simple pinch covered up some of the side boob – enough that Svea felt more comfortable and more appropriate.  “Now imagine what my tailor can do.  This thing will fit you like a glove when he’s done with it.”

Svea nodded her head.  She did look good.  And she had a feeling Elias would like the open back and the fact it would be tight.  Elias liked her in anything but her dressing up did something to him.  He would treat her as a present he needed to unwrap.  “Is there any point in trying on anything else?” she smiled.

Grace smiled back.  “No way.”

***

“D’you ever think about marriage?” Grace asked suddenly as she and Svea ate lunch at Coast, raw oysters in between them arranged perfectly on a platter.  

Svea was taken aback by the question, which was posed out of the blue.  She thought anybody would be, all things considered.  “Uh…sometimes.  Why?”

“I just think of you and Elias a lot. And Brock and I, obviously, but more so you and Elias.  Because, like, we both know you guys are going to get married one day.  I mean, so will Brock and I…but…I don’t know.  Do you ever just think of what marriage will be like?”

Svea knew what Grace was trying to get at.  In her own roundabout way, she was expressing a deep-rooted fear.  Not of marriage in and of itself – the act of it, of getting a legal document and signing it and being attached to a person through marriage – but the dynamics of it instead.  How to make it work.  Communication.  Trust.  Traveling.  Schedules.  Children.  Her parents notoriously didn’t speak to each other after their horrible divorce and used her and their lawyers as pawns.  She got along well with her step-brothers and all was well and fine now, as an adult, but divorce traumatizes kids.  “I do.”

“What do you think your marriage with Elias will be like?”

“Comfortable,” Svea said without any thought.  She felt the need to clarify.  “I don’t mean that in a bad way.  I just mean that like…I think it will be easy.  Easier.  We’ve known each other our whole lives and our relationship is already strong.  I don’t think that signing a document and becoming husband and wife will drastically change anything in our relationship.”

“Because it’s bound to happen,” Grace said.

“Exactly,” Svea nodded her head.  “Like I know it will change, but not by much.  And Elias and I talk about what we want and what we want to do, and we sort of just, like…already know.  So it’s not going be this, like, seismic shift.  He’ll still be Elias.  He’ll just be my husband, Elias.”

Grace nodded her head.  She thought long and hard about what Svea was saying.  She envied Svea, somewhat, because she also had good role models in her parents to base a marriage off of.  Grace didn’t really have that luxury – though she had her mom and her step-dad now, but that was different.  Because after everything that happened in the divorce, Grace couldn’t look at marriage the same way.  “Do you ever look to your parents and what they went through?”

“Somewhat.  I mean my mom uprooted her whole life for my dad.  She moved to a foreign country and learned the language and brought up two daughters in a small town…I don’t think they would have lasted if she didn’t know my dad loved her unconditionally like Elias loves me now,” Svea explained.  “I mean they obviously weren’t perfect but they provide a great example.  Same with Elias’s parents.  I think they provided a good example for him.”

“When I think about my mom and dad, and what happened with them, it doesn’t make me scared about Brock and I, because I know we’re different,” Grace began.  “But what gets me scared is, like, the possibility.  Like there’s always a possibility we could end up like them.”

Svea shook her head.  “You can’t wage your happiness on a possibility, Grace,” she said sternly.  “If we go by that logic, of possibilities, that means there’s a possibility that Elias would cheat on me and break us up.”

“That would never happen.  Elias would never do that to you.”

“Exactly,” Svea said.  “You and Brock are nothing like your parents.  So let me ask you the same question.  What do you think your marriage with Brock will be like?”

Unlike Svea, who answered with one word in a heartbeat, Grace thought about it for a while.  It wasn’t because she wasn’t confident in their relationship – she was – and it wasn’t because she couldn’t see herself married to Brock – she could – but it was more so because what she had with Brock was indescribable.  It had all happened pretty quickly, but everything about it felt right, and felt like it was supposed to happen.  Marriage would feel the same way.  Having kids would feel the same way.  “Comfortable,” Grace repeated Svea’s word.  “Because he gives me a sense of comfort than no-one else has.  He makes me feel safe and happy all the time.  And because we want the same things.  We always have.”

Svea smiled.  “See?  Comfort isn’t a bad thing.  Not everything has to be a rollercoaster.”

Grace nodded.  She knew Svea was right.  She just wished she didn’t have such bad examples to base a marriage on.  Svea was wise and knew these things because she had good examples.  “Has Elias ever brought up marriage?”

Svea smirked slightly, grabbing her water to take a sip so she could avoid the question.  Grace wiggled in her seat excitedly, knowing the answer based on her response.  “In passing, mostly.  We were in bed once, too.”

“Oh God, did he propose once when you two were having sex?”

Svea snorted.  “No, thank God.  Nothing awkward like that.  It was more so, like…” she trailed off, wondering if she should even say anything.  She told Grace pretty much everything these days.  “When we get married, so and so…” she mimicked Elias’s voice.  

“Ah, I get it,” Grace nodded.  “I once gave Brock a blowjob so good he called me his wife afterwards.”

Svea burst out laughing, which caused Grace to laugh as well.  Both of the girls had to wipe away tears and take a drink of water before they could resume talking.  “Brock would totally do something like that,” Svea commented.  

“I know.  He’s so predictable,” Grace rolled her eyes playfully.  “Is it weird these things happen with our boyfriends during sex?  I swear they only share one brain cell.”

“They definitely do, but we love them for it.”

>< >< ><

“Do you want to marry me?”

If Svea was a dog, her ears would have perked up like someone was opening the treat bag.  She and Elias had finished dinner and had been cuddling on the couch when Svea thought they needed a snack and went to go microwave a bag of popcorn.  The question didn’t make her nervous because she knew the answer.  If anything, she wondered what exactly it would lead to.  “Of course I do.”

“Now or eventually?” he asked again.

“Eventually,” she answered.

“Why not now?”

Svea poured the popcorn into the bowl.  “Because I don’t know what I’m going with my life yet, and I think it’s important to establish that before I get married.”

“So if you establish it, we would be able to get married?” he asked, using her logic.

“Eliiiiaaaaas…” she elongated his name, taking the bowl and bringing it back to the couch.  He sounded like a four year old with all of his questions.  “What’s this about?”

“I’m just wondering when we can get married,” he said like it was so simple.  

“Why are you wondering that?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Elias, we’re only twenty-two,” Svea said.  She wanted to turn the tables.  “And besides, do you want to marry me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my soulmate,” he said automatically.  “Because I love you more than anything.  And we waited long enough to get together, so why wait to get married?”

“Elias…” she whispered.  Instead of sitting down by his side like she had been, she straddled his lap.  It brought them much closer, of course, and Svea could look at him face-to-face.  She brought her hands up to cradle his face.  “Listen to me.  I love you.  I want to marry you.  There’s no doubt in my mind about that, okay?  None whatsoever.  But there are a lot of things happening this year between me and my future and you and your contract,” she said.  “I feel…I feel like once all of that is…I don’t know, settled, then we can start seriously think about getting married.  And I can’t do that when everything is up in the air with me.”

Elias moved into her touch, eventually nodding his head.  He looked so cute and his lips were so pouty, Svea felt like kissing him right then.  But she knew she couldn’t until they finished their very serious conversation.  “I just don’t want to wait.  I’ve already waited too long for you, you know?” he asked.

“I know.  But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not be,” he mumbled, leaning forward to rest his head against her chest.  She moved her hands so one was still cradling his face while she ran her fingers through his hair with the other.  “I hope you don’t think I’m pressuring you or anything.”

“You’re not.”

“I just really want to marry you.  I really want you to be my wife.  I know it’s probably stupid of me but I don’t care how young we are.  I would’ve married you at eighteen.”

Svea smiled.  “If we hadn’t denied our feelings for each other we probably would have been dumb and done it,” she laughed.  “But you’ve gotta get me a ring first.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.  I’ll make sure the ring is bigger than your eyeball.”

“And you still gotta kneel.  I want the whole kit and kaboodle.  I don’t care that I know it’s happening.  You still have to kneel and ask me.”

She felt Elias smile against her, giggling slightly.  “I plan on it.  I meant it when I said that time in Stockholm wasn’t the last time I would kneel in front of you.”

“Good,” Svea smiled.  

“But we can still get a pet, right?”

Svea snorted.  She was very, very, very well aware of how much he wanted a pet.  With Diesel, Whiskey, and Tequila far away in Sweden with Fanny and Emil, he had limited access to animals.  And after spending practically the entire summer with them, he was desperate for some animal contact.  Grace bringing Pippa around was always nice, but it wasn’t enough.  He couldn’t cuddle with Pippa whenever he wanted.  Pippa wasn’t at his home.  “Elias.”

“What if I brought home an iguana one day?”

“No,” she said loudly, pulling away from him so his head wasn’t on her chest anymore.  He had a cheeky smile on his face.  “I told you to stop sending me reptiles to adopt.”

“But what if—”

“If you bring home an iguana or a reptile or God forbid a snake, you’re not allowed to marry me anymore.”

“Whooooooaaaaaa whoa whoa hey hey hey, let’s not get crazy here,” he held up his hands.  “Okay, I’ll stop sending the reptiles.  But that means I can send you more dogs.”

“Okay, deal,” she smiled, finally getting her opportunity to kiss him.  “You’re lucky I’m already crazy for you, because you’re gonna drive me crazy.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed happily, snaking his hands up her shirt.  “I’m crazy for you too.  And I can think of a few crazy things we can get up to right now.”

>< >< >< >< ><

“Elias—”

“—Svea—”

“—Elias we’re already late—”

“—Pull up your dress—"

“—Eli—oh, oh Jesus,” Svea felt herself getting pushed against their bedroom’s glass window.  Elias was behind her pulling her dress up and bunching it around her hips.  She could hear the buckle of his belt clink as he rushed to get it unbuckled.  “Elias—”

“Bend over.”

She let out a hot sigh as she did what she was told, trying to grip onto the glass as she bent over slightly, her ass sticking out and grinding on Elias’s already hard member.  She could feel his hand on her ass, slipping her lace panties to the side.  She’d bought them specifically for tonight.  No set, because she wasn’t wearing a bra (only boob tape, as per Grace and her tailor).  She’d planned on surprising Elias after the gala but he apparently had other plans.  She felt his fingers play with her folds, letting out a mewl at his teasing to get her wet, eventually slipping two fingers inside of her, causing her to cry out.  “That feels good, Elias,” she whispered, looking back at him.

“You like that?” he asked, to which she nodded her head.  “You think looking that sexy in this dress wasn’t gonna make me do this?”

She smiled slightly.  “I knew it would.  Just thought you’d be able to wait,” she smiled devilishly.

“Nuh uh,” Elias shook his head, curling his fingers and making her visibly shiver.  “No waiting.  Can’t wait.”

“Then fuck me already.”

Elias entered her with such force that they crashed together against the glass.  Svea let out a loud moan as he filled her up, feeling his hot breath right behind her ear as her own hot breath fogged up the glass in front of her mouth.  She absolutely loved the feeling of him filling her up – always had, always would – but this was different.  This was hot and fast and raw and rough, and she liked it, God did she like it.  “Fill me up, Elias,” she breathed out.  “Fill me up and fuck me.”

He crashed into her hips again, and she sent out another shout.  His body pressed up against hers gave her little room to move but she liked it.  Another crash.  Another shout.  Another crash.  Another shout.  On and on and on, the more shouts and moans escaped her body without her having any control over them.  On and on and on, she got louder with each passing one.  He could see her knuckles turning white from trying to grip the glass unsuccessfully.  “You like being fucked like this?” he mumbled into her ear.

“Yeeesssssssss,” she nodded.  

“How much?”

“So much,” she breathed out.  “I love it when you fuck me hard, Elias.  I love it.  It’s so good.  It’s so fucking good.”

It wasn’t meant to last long – rendezvouses like this never did – and so with a bite of the neck and an arch of the back and a slip of Elias’s hand around to her core, rubbing and teasing, Svea came undone, coming loudly and shaking as she tried to keep her balance.  She could feel his breaths shorten, and soon after, he came inside of her, hot and wet and causing her own orgasm to last longer.  As they tried to catch their breaths, Svea could feel Elias’s lips on the open skin of her back, placing soft, tender, loving kisses along it as they came down from their highs.  

Elias’s lips moved from her spine to her shoulder blades and along her neck.  “I love you,” he whispered softly, placing a quick kiss on her jawline.  

The fact that he was still inside her made it that much more tender to her.  With her skirt still bunched up and the heat still pulsating in her core – evidence of what they’d just done – it was a nice bring-me-down, a return to reality for Svea who had just been seeing stars thanks to her boyfriend.  “I love you too.”

When he softened and he finally slipped out of her, she whimpered as she always did at the loss, though she knew that more would be waiting for her later.  She adjusted her underwear upon hearing Elias’s belt clink again.  After rearranging themselves, they looked at each other to see the other perfectly well-kept, as if Elias didn’t just fuck her against the window.  Elias had a smile on his face – a proud one, not one filled with lust like minutes before.  “We should get down to the car,” he said, though neither of them bothered to move.  “You do look beautiful,” he added.

“We clean up well,” Svea smiled back.  She stepped forward to help him arrange his tie and collar.  

“I can’t wait to see you in a wedding dress,” Elias said, looking down at her.

Svea looked up.  “Yeah?”

He nodded, clasping her hand in his.  “Yeah.”

***

“Svea, you look fantastic!” Jacob Markstrom smiled as he bent down to hug her.  Almost the entire team and their significant others had sad variations of the same thing to her as they saw her, so she knew she had picked the right dress.  She and Elias were one of the last couples to arrive, but it seemed like things were running slightly behind schedule anyway because of people trying to find their seats in the giant room.  It saved them, really.

“Thanks Jacob,” Svea smiled.  “You look quite dapper yourself.  A change from the scruffy bear you turn into when we’re back in Sweden.”

He let out a hearty laugh before moving on to greet Elias.  Svea looked around the room to see it already almost full of people mingling.  The stage was lit up in blue and green lights, and the DJ was playing music in the background of everything else that was happening.  There were already food stations open in the middle of the room.  Svea wondered if the boys could eat before they had to go their designated stations – she knew Elias and Brock were going to be set up in the photobooth part just like last year.  That meant she and Grace could gossip and get a good talk in before dinner, where they would inevitably be separated at different tables.  

About five minutes after Svea and Elias arrived, Brock and Grace did too.  They made their rounds with the team.  When Grace approached Svea, she gave her a good up-down.  “You look phenomenal,” she said before going in to hug her.  “Was Petey able to keep his hands off you?” she whispered in her ear.

Svea giggled.  “No.”

Grace nodded knowingly as she pulled away from the hug.  “Brock wasn’t either.”

Soon, the boys were called to their “stations” and Grace and Svea found their tables before going to the bar.  A lot of people were approaching Grace because they recognized her from her father, and they asked questions about her and her initiatives and her uncles as Svea stood awkwardly with her, barely acknowledged or subtly acknowledged with just a nod of the head.  Grace knew how to work a room, so it was fine, and she tried to include Svea into the conversations as much as possible, but people weren’t interested in her as much as they were interested in Grace.  It was fine.  Grace came from a prominent family of billionaires who were famous in Vancouver for their philanthropy.  Svea was just…Svea.  To be honest, she somewhat liked it.  She could never be in the “limelight”, so to speak, as Grace was.  That’s why if she went into politics, she’d be an advisor.  There was no way she’d run for public office, even though she could debate better than the best politicians.

At one point, Svea and Grace unfortunately got stuck with quite the…character.  Young, brash, and somehow invited to a gala that benefitted children, he was making jokes left, right, and centre.  Most of them inappropriate.  Both girls wished he noticed their awkward laughs and buzzed off, but such was not the case.  He just had to chat up the daughter of Hamish Gillespie.  

“You girls having a good time?” Brock’s voice was heard suddenly as he crept up behind them, putting his hand on the small of Grace’s back.  Elias wasn’t far behind, smiling slightly.  

“Whooooa ho ho!  Brock Boeser!” the man exclaimed, doing one of those slap-shaking of hands boys always did with each other – if they were friends.  Brock had no idea who this man was.  “What’s up, Boes?  Just talking to your girl here about where the Gillespie’s are donating money next.”

“Hmm, really?” Brock said, eyeing Grace and seeing the look she was giving him.  “You’re talking to Grace about it?”

“Yeah, your girl.”

Elias watched as Grace rolled her eyes.  “I was just about to say it’ll probably be another arts centre somewhere,” she said curtly.

“And what about you?” he nodded his head towards Svea.  “Raya, was it?”

“Svea,” she deadpanned.  

“Svea’s looking to do public policy and work in politics,” Elias interjected, saying the information proudly.  

The man laughed out loud.  Like, actually laughed out loud upon hearing the news.  “You gonna be a political husband, Petey?  The Good Husband?  Like that TV show?” he joked.

“I don’t get it,” Svea interrupted before Elias could respond.  She knew what she had to do: she had to use the technique of playing dumb and not understanding the “joke” in order to have someone awkwardly explain why they thought their racist/sexist/misogynist/ableist “joke” was funny, thus shining a light on their horrible character.  She could bask in the awkwardness of them stumbling over their own words and seeing how truly ridiculous and stupid they really were.  “Can you explain that to me?”

She watched as the man’s face fell slightly.  “Oh, you know,” he tried to play it off.  “It’s just a joke.”

“What’s the joke?”

Now his face really dropped, but he still tried to keep a smile on his face, which just made him look completely like that Chrissy Teigen meme.  “It’s just…you know…”

“I don’t know.”

The man shifted awkwardly on his feet.  “Petey doesn’t need his girl working in politics,” he said.  “What are you even gonna do in politics anyway?  How’s Petey gonna feel about that?  Having his girl running around with a bunch of politicians?”

“I’m not exactly sure where you’re going with this,” Svea said.  She couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.  “What exactly are you trying to achieve?  Please explain to me how having a successful wife is so threatening to a man’s ego?”

“Does he need the trouble?” he continued.  “You can’t be out there…you…I mean, shouldn’t you just do what all the other wives and girlfriends do?  Be with the kids and tend to the house like a good wife?  Petey is the important one here.”

Svea was so shocked her jaw didn’t drop.  She closed her jaw, curtly, and closed her mouth, curtly, out of fear of saying something she might regret.  It was Brock who had to intervene.  “I think it’s best you leave now,” he said as calmly as possible.

“I—It’s not—”

“Leave,” Grace stressed.  

The man scoffed and walked off.  Svea could feel Elias grab her hand and squeeze it.  He had an angry look on his face, understandably, as he watched the guy walk off, back to his table and back to his group.  Elias would make sure to walk by the table to see the company they came from so he could make a complaint.  “What a fucking asshole,” he mumbled.

“What a crock of shit,” Grace piped up even louder than Elias.  She looked up at Brock.  “Can we kick him out?  I’m serious.  Can we go speak to someone so he’s thrown out?  Let’s go.”

“It’s fine,” Svea said.  

“But Svea—”

“Honestly, it’s fine,” she stressed.  “I’m going to be a woman in politics.  This won’t be the last time somebody is going to make a comment like that.”  Grace was still visibly mad.  So was Brock.  But they listened to Svea’s wish and didn’t pursue it any further.  “Let’s go sit.”

***

Despite the man’s horrible comments, Svea forgot about them for the duration of the gala and had an amazing time.  There were some hilariously funny moments that the organization put the players through, and Svea was laughing almost the entire night.  She had some great talks afterwards, as well, with Jacob and Troy and Bo and Holly, and when the night ended, she was tired but happy as she and Elias made their way back home.  Grace suggested they go for late-night pizza but Svea was too tired.  They promised Grace brunch the next morning instead, which was readily agreed upon.  

“I appreciate that you don’t expect that life from me,” Svea whispered as she stood in their bedroom in front of their mirror, Elias behind her unzipping her dress.  She’d already been to the bathroom to wash off her makeup.

He knew exactly what she was talking about.  He honestly wondered when she was going to bring it up.  They’d been through this discussion months earlier when Francesca made her comments.  He couldn’t believe they had to put up with them again.  “I know you do,” he said from behind her.

“I just…I haven’t gone to university and pursued a life and career in public policy or law just to be called your girlfriend and become…become a…a trophy wife!  A wag!” her anger was coming through now.  “And I know I shouldn’t be angry and—and I’m not, I swear, because I know how ridiculous he was, but I…still.”

“I get it.  It’s okay,” Elias said as he finished unzipping her dress.  “You know I’d never want to dull your shine, Svea.  I never want you to settle for anything you don’t want because I know you don’t want me to do that either.”

“You don’t…” she stopped herself, thinking if she should even ask the question, since he posed the same one to her when they were in Sweden after the entire Soren debacle.  “You don’t think I’m holding you back, right?”

“How would you?” he asked, his tone showing he thought it was the most absurd idea on the planet.

“From like, doing stuff with your friends.  Going out, having fun…I don’t know Elias.  Normal guy stuff.  Normal hockey guy stuff,” she clarified.

He’d been shaking his head since her first word.  “No,” he said definitively.  He dress fell to the floor, leaving Svea standing in front of the mirror in just her lace underwear.  “I see what some of my friends and teammates have gotten up to on the road and I don’t want that for me.  The only things I want in my life are my family, hockey, and you.  There’s nothing else I need.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” he nodded.  “You keep me grounded, Svea.  I don’t need to do that shit when I have you at home.”

“I just don’t want you to miss out,” she said.

“I’m not missing out.  Trust me.  I still have my fun but I have it on my terms.”

Svea internalized his words and nodded her head.  She turned around and began helping him undress, undoing his tie and the buttons on his dress shirt before moving to his belt, the clinking of the metal reminding her of their previous activities just hours ago.  “I know that you love me.  And you know that I love you.  I just want to make sure you’re living the life you want because I know you want me to live the life that I want.  Which is why I’m comfortable with telling you the next thing I’m going to say.”

“Which is?”

“If we get married, we’re not having kids anytime soon.  I’m not even entertaining the idea,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.  “Like, it’s not on the table.  It’s not an option.  I’m going to school and I’m working.  And when I’m ready, we’re having kids.”

Again, Elias was nodding from the beginning of her first words.  “I’m fine with that.  I—yes, I’m fine with that.”  

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” he kept nodding as she pushed his dress shirt back with her hands, letting it fall to the floor as well.  “There’s no way I can even think about taking care of a kid right now anyway, so there’s no way I’m gonna do that to you.  I wouldn’t put that on you while I go live my dreams.  You have to live your dreams too.”  He bent down slightly to give her a light kiss on the tip of her nose.  “I love you.”

“I love you too.”  

That night, as Svea was on top of him, under him, on her hands and knees for him, spooning him, and everything in between; as every orgasm coursed through her body from the top of her head to the tips of her toes like a tidal wave, leaving her a shaking, moaning, mewling, whimpering mess, she was shown time and time again how much Elias loved her, how much he adored her, how much he would do anything for her; and she was shown, more than anything, that they were in this together.

>< >< >< >< ><

Dear Miss Nilsson,

Congratulations!  We are pleased to offer you acceptance into the Peter A. Allard School of Law…

***

Dear Miss Nilsson,

Upon review of your application, we are pleased to offer you acceptance to the University of British Columbia’s Master of Public Policy and Global Affairs…

>< >< >< >< ><

“Stella!  Stella!  Speak!”

“Brrrrrrrraaaaark!”

“Gooood girl, Stella!” Svea gave her a treat.  “Okay, now twirl!” she did the hand motion, and Stella spun around and sat down when she was finished.  “What a good girl you are, Stella!”

“RrrrrBARK!”

Svea watched as Elias came up behind Stella and picked her up in one swift movement, swooping her up in his arms as he brought her up to his face.  He snuggled his face into hers, her wet nose tickling his skin before she started licking his face.  Svea laughed at the sight, and soon Elias was laughing too because Stella wouldn’t stop.  “You’re just like mommy, Stella.”

“HEY!” Svea opposed, pinching him on his side and causing him to wince.  “That’s not very nice.”

“It’s true though.”

“So what if it is,” she mumbled as she watched their puppy continue to lick his face.  “We should put her harness on her now if we’re going to take her to the park.”

“But before that,” Elias said, placing Stella back down on the floor before walking over to their fridge.  He bent down to open the freezer and took out a bottle of champagne.  Stella waddled over to him, trying to see what else was in the freezer.  “What’s that?” Svea asked as he set the bottle down on the counter.  It was an expensive bottle too – he’d really gone all out.

“You didn’t think I’d just give you that necklace to celebrate you getting into your programs?” he asked with a smirk on his face.  He took out two champagne flutes from a cabinet and set them down on the counter.  

Svea touched the necklace sitting pretty around her neck – the Cartier Love necklace in yellow gold with diamonds, of course to match her bracelet that she hadn’t taken off since.  “Elias…”

“And I know you still have to think about which one you’re going to choose,” he said as he took the foil off the top and began to uncork the bottle, “but we’re still going to celebrate.  Because you’re my Svea, and I love you more than anything.”

Svea bent down to pick up Stella and cradle her in her arms as Elias poured the champagne into the flutes.  “I did choose,” she said softly.  “I came to the decision mentally, like, half an hour ago and I was going to tell you at the park.”

“Oh yeah?  And?” he asked as he finished pouring.

She took a deep breath.  “The Master of Public Policy and Global Affairs.”

Elias smiled from ear to ear, handing her one of the flutes to hold.  He stepped towards her and wrapped an arm around her, cradling her and Stella against him.  “To you, my pretty girl,” he said softly as he looked down at her.  “My moon, my stars, my Svea.”

>< >< >< >< ><

@ThomasDrance: BREAKING: Elias Pettersson has signed a contract with the Vancouver Canucks.  More to come shortly.

@ThomasDrance: Sounds like a long-term deal.  Elias is staying.  Canucks fans rejoice.

@ThomasDrance: Somebody on the media beat just screamed.  Another danced.  One is just smiling as he’s staring down at his phone.  Just in case you were wondering how happy the people of Vancouver are.

>< >< >< >< ><

“You guys want to meet up on…let’s say Saturday?” Svea asked Grace on the phone.  She was lying on the couch with Elias giving her a foot massage and Stella sleeping on her chest.  

“Yeah, of course.  Pippa down!” she asserted.  “What were you thinking?”

“We kind of want to go super-fancy,” Svea said, knowing that Grace would be able to help with that.  “Like, really nice outfits.  And I want Brock in a suit.”

“I’ll make reservations at Hawksworth,” Grace said like it was the easiest thing in the world – because it was for her.  Everyone else would need to wait weeks.  But not her.  “And I’ll stuff Brock too-many-cookies-gut into a suit, no problem.”

“Make the reservation for 1:30 in the afternoon.  But can we meet at 11?”

“Of course…” Grace said.  “Why so early?”

“For Stella.  We need to show you something with Stella.”

>< >< >< >< ><

Elias waved Brock down outside once he noticed his car.  Elias was dressed in his best suit, one he’d know he’d never wear again from now on.  He watched as Brock parallel parked the car on the street.  Grace got out first, wearing a very pretty and fitted yellow dress with a boatneck and cap sleeves, looking especially elegant.  Her hair was sleeked back into a low bun, and she had a pair of high-heeled sandals on to complete her look.  Brock followed behind her, wearing one of his particularly well-tailored and fitted black suits, shiny new shoes and a skinny tie.

“Why’d you make me dress up?” Brock asked as he approached Elias, adjusting his jacket so he could button it up.  

“You know I like seeing you in a suit.”

Brock winked.  “I do, but you see me in one almost every other day.  Why my best suit?”

Elias didn’t have the opportunity to answer, because Svea came up from behind him to hug Grace and Brock.  They both bent down and kissed Stella as well.  “Do you guys mind if I leave my jacket in your car?  It’s getting a bit hot out,” she asked as she began unbuttoning her trench coat.  

“Yeah yeah, of course,” Brock nodded, moving to open the backseat door for her.

When Svea handed the handle of the leash to Elias and took off her trench coat, she had everybody staring.  She revealed the dress she was wearing: plunge V-neck, frilled outline, sequin-embellished waistband, flowy skirt.

White.

“Wait…” Brock held his hand up, not bothering to close the backseat door even though Svea was finished throwing her jacket in the back.  Finished and waiting.  He had a confused look on his face.  But then it suddenly hit him.  “Are you guys getting fuckin’ married?”

Svea smirked.  When Grace saw, she screamed at the top of her lungs.  Brock looked at Elias, who was now smiling and laughing at Grace’s reaction.  “Are you fucking joking?”  Elias shook his head.  “You guys are getting fucking married?!  Right now?!”

“Yup,” Elias finally nodded his head.  “You and Grace are our witnesses, and you may or may not need to FaceTime in our parents and siblings.”

If it was possible, Grace screamed even louder before jumping up and down and lunging herself at Svea, who was ready to catch her and hug her.  Brock and Elias watched as she kept changing “ohmygodohmygodOHMYGOOOOODDDDD” over and over again before she finally had the wherewithal to grab Svea’s left hand.  When she did, she saw Svea’s ring: a beautiful yellow gold pave ring with a sapphire halo around the centre diamond – a giant round cut that took up most of Svea’s finger.  She gasped at the sight of it.  “Oh my God this is stunning,” she said, inspecting it before turning to Elias.  “You picked this out?”

“Wow Grace.  You don’t have faith in me?” Elias smiled.

She turned to Svea.  “Our men have no taste.  You have to tell me who picked it out.”

“HEY!” Brock protested.  “I have taste!”

“We went to the jewelry store together.  I chose the diamond and he said to get it bigger—”

“—Good—”

“—and then I wanted the pave band.  But it was Elias who actually suggested the sapphires in the halo.”

Grace nodded.  “The sapphires make it.  They truly do.”  She gave Elias another look.  “Good job Elias.”

“Thanks Grace.”

“So are we gonna do this thing or what?!” Brock asked, clapping his hands together.  “Let’s get married!”

***

The picture was simple, and taken by Brock.  In it, Elias and Svea stood on the steps outside Vancouver City Hall.  They stood side by side, and were holding hands.  Svea held her bouquet by her hip, and in Elias held the leash for Stella, who was sitting in front of them, smiling at the camera.  They were smiling, too.  Formal smiles, mostly, but in Elias’s unabashedness, and in Svea’s absolute pure joy.

Elias posted a simple caption.  

💒

***

@of_pettersson: The Church of Pettersson could have married you!!!  Alas, we bestow best wishes to you and your bride!  

@peteyfan40: pettersson married? What a way to ring in his contract!

@canucklehead406: gotta love that the first thing elias does after signing a contract is get married. Remember that ice and dice when he said he’d never had a girlfriend? What a change

@vancitybaby: ok, so I’m not the only one who think elias looks super cute with his new wife and puppy, right? Like I basically sobbed.

@ThomasDrance: Signs a contract, gets married.  Bride is childhood best friend Svea Nilsson.  Congrats to Elias & Svea.  Bright things are in their future.

@BBoeser16: So happy for my two best friends and to have been there with them <3

@gracegillespie:  I love love.  Congratulations to Elias, Svea, and Stella.

>< >< >< >< ><

Elias and Svea cuddled on the couch.  Svea was in Elias’s lap and Stella was sleeping in hers.  Elias placed a kiss on Svea’s temple.  “I love you so much, Svea.”

She smiled.  “I love you too Elias.”

For at least a moment, everything was perfect.  

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 32: Cornelius Fudge

Lily was the lucky one. She seemed to have landed in a large, sturdy chair that didn't even fall over as she was slammed into it. Her luck didn't hold, as Potter came stumbling right into her and landed in her lap.

"Sorry," he muttered as he blinked dazedly up at her.

"So am I," she scoffed as she pushed him off. She watched with disinterest as he fell the rest of the way to the ground before looking around. "Are we in Dumbledore's office?" She asked in surprise. It seemed to be as Harry had described, a great circular room with many portraits hung all along the wall. Most surprising of all, the occupants were all present, eyeing the students with great looks of unease.

"No, this isn't right," Potter corrected as he adjusted his glass, though he was only looking at the desk before him. "Dumbledore's desk has clawed feet. This one's not the same, and I don't know why he'd have any reason to change it."

"Plus that's not a Hogwarts view," Lupin agreed, once again at the window. An orange glow of sunset bathed his face as he looked out onto a balcony, the terrace set up for a grand dinner party, the flat lawn beyond something Lily vaguely recalled seeing on her television once.

"We're in the Minister of Magic's office," Frank managed around an awed voice, staring more closely at all the portraits around, particularly the one right behind Lily in a large ornate frame.

"Tas right!" The woman told him, eyeing the lot of them with great suspicion. She had tightly curled grey hair and tiny little specks set upon a mushroom nose. They all vaguely recognized her as their own current Minister for Magic, Millicent Bagnold. "And just what are you lot doing in here? Ministry never allowed tours right into my office in my day."

"Err, tours?" Frank asked eagerly, wondering if they could finally get some sort of clue of what happened to the outside world. "Exactly how long has this office been empty?"

Her face went blank in confusion, before she kept going on in a sharp voice. "Never you mind, you lot need to get out."

"Wish we could," Pettigrew sighed as he once again tried the door unsuccessfully.

An ugly old wizard who resembled a toad with a muddy brown backdrop right next to the door snapped, "wishing never got you anything, how's about you get on with it." Peter eyed the name, Ulick Gamp, committing it to memory so on his O.W.L. exams he could fill in the blank for rudest Minister.

"Right, well, I'm just going to," Black tried to edge towards the bookshelf, eyeing all the titles and looking for the one they needed. Most of them were so boring he couldn't believe anyone had ever cracked the spine open, you'd think a Minister would have a more lively office. Instead, while the place certainly had a grand feel with the domed ceiling and columns of book cases, a few even did have the same knickknacks he'd once spotted in Dumbledore's office, the place felt more like a front than if anyone had decorated with a care for themselves.

Regulus clutched a hat stand to get to his feet, which only had one lime-green bowler hat upon it. He got himself upright and found himself face to face with Artemisia Lufkin, a woman who vaguely resembled McGonagall. He sort of recalled her name as the first Minister to hold a Quidditch World cup in Britain.

"I've found the book," Potter announced behind him, the sounds of him rummaging through the Ministers desk audible. "Here Evans, like a turn?"

She scoffed, but to Regulus' surprise he heard, "give me that, I'll read it just to get us out of here. How about you not go through someone else's things for a change of pace?"

The sounds of another drawer opening stopped, and he heard a deep sigh. "Sorry Evans, can't do that, might be something important in here!" Then the rustling noises of papers being rearranged began.

The red head stormed past him out of his peripheral, and Regulus rolled his eyes for the display. Didn't those two ever get tired of antagonizing each other? "Look alive sunny," Artemisia Lufkin told him with a pleasant sort of smile now, "that's one spit fire you're in the company of."

He turned away in disgust, his eyes falling on his brother and Lupin now chatting animatedly with Grogan Stump, one whom he definitely recognized from his fathers lectures. Of course his brother seemed to like that one, the idiotic Minister who decided to classify all the differences in the sort of creatures out there, but he was also the one who created the Department for Games and Sports. He was one of the few lectures both brothers had enjoyed.

Regulus instead turned to Longbottom now trying to have a proper conversation with a Minister he most certainly did know. Faris "Spout-Hole" Spavin. His mother loved that man, always going on about the story of his attempted assassination by a centaur. "You don't have another portrait anywhere? Can't leave this room and find out if something's going on in the outside world? Merlin, you don't have a clue how we're in this mess? This has to be one of the most collective knowledgeable people in history, and not one of you-

"Oh, they're not going to be of any help," Alice interrupted with a sympathetic frown to her boyfriend. "They're of no more use than our photos you know, they can only say what their real life counterpart was most likely to have. Nothing of the sort we'd need for help, it's beyond them."

"I've never looked into how conscious the portraits are," Frank admitted ruefully.

"I have," Alice shrugged. "They're fascinating, I was thinking about taking up a class this summer."

Evans looked just as disappointed, but finally turned to the book and began reading. None of them recognized the name of Cornelius Fudge, but given their environment it wasn't too hard to put together who he was.

Regulus didn't have much care of the Potter brats worry his friend Hagrid was now the main suspect. That Riddle kid who had tried to put the blame on him was ridiculous, but then, he was from a Muggle orphanage, it was no surprise he was wrong. Obviously Hagrid couldn't be the heir of Slytherin, as far as Regulus knew he wasn't even a competent wizard. No pure-blood of Slytherin's line would be riffraff about the castle grounds.

Lily was reading all of this while trying not to chew her lip up in thought. She unintentionally agreed with Regulus, someone must have framed Hagrid those fifty years ago and then stopped the attacks knowing it would be foolish to keep going. This did nothing to explain Harry's current predicament of who was doing the same now, and why such a long wait in between attacks?

James at least was enjoying hearing of Harry discussing his options for more classes. He could commiserate the feeling of wanting to drop some, and then sat up with interest a new subject was being added.

"Divination?" Peter demanded, circling around the desk as James was now on his knees with files circling him. "Why couldn't we have had that option, do you know how much easier our life would have been to make up shit for our homework instead of Ancient Runes!"

"But you're great at that class," James looked up at him in surprise.

"Yeah, but still, I'd have liked a dozer option," Peter shrugged as he sat down beside him, careful not to sit on anything and block James' progress. "Looking for anything in particular?"

"Not really," he shrugged as he kept going. "Decided not to pass up the opportunity to see what goes on in here though. Mostly it's just his signatures on final documents about imported goods, some minor law regarding trade with Eurasia, food that needs to be shipped out to Azkaban-"

He stopped in surprise and looked around, Peter and everyone else with him as Evans read out the trashed out common room they'd currently left.

"Who on Earth would do such a thing!" Frank asked in surprise.

"Besides the Marauders," Evans agreed with a glare at the two she could still see, knowing the other two were still at it behind the desk.

"It was like that when we entered," Black said carelessly, but there was a suspicious frown on his face all the same as he tried to figure out who would have done this and why. Hermione's suggestion it could only be a Gryffindor didn't make any sense, Harry and Ron had already proved this year anyone in the castle could have gone in. The real question was, why?

They all grew uncomfortably still when they realized the object that was missing Riddle's diary!

"Well, I say good," Remus muttered as he sat down in the Minister's chair and kept eyeing James' work. "That thing was no good and didn't need to be around Harry or anyone. Whoever came and got it from him can deal with such a nasty dark object."

"I don't understand what the point of it was," Sirius was starting to pace in agitation and kicked a file right into James' lap by accident. A few papers scattered out of it while he kept going. "Was Harry supposed to find it? Was him finding it some elaborate trap? Who would care if the point of it was for Harry to see Hagrid being framed all those years ago? Anyone who knew him would know he'd never actually turn on his friend."

"Idiots about the school who don't know him well at all," Peter suggested as he went to pull the last page out from under the desk, while James tried to haphazardly put the rest back into a neat pile.

At least as Evans kept going they had the promise of a good Quidditch match to look forward too, until that was also ruined by that voice once again appearing.

Remus shivered and sunk deeper in his chair, thankful the sun was still clinging to the sky outside even if the sky was turning blood red for it. At least they weren't back in the castle having to hear of such a thing happening again.

"I swear Hermione would stop in the middle of a fight just to go look up a spell!" James laughed in surprise as she darted away again.

"Prongs, look at this," Peter suddenly hissed, now crouching very purposefully under the desk while Evans kept going. He froze in surprise and the two hardly even registered their friends grousing loudly about Quidditch of all things being canceled.

Frank and Alice listened with trepidation, holding each others hands and standing as close to each other as they could in the large office. It didn't matter they weren't in the castle, they could feel the impending doom of whatever had caused such a thing, and were horrified to be right. A double attack, and one was a girl they well knew would affect Harry.

"Oh!" Lily yelped in surprise, dropping the book as if it had scalded her as she read out Hermione's name. Her stomach heaved, she looked near tears. A prefect and another Muggleborn! She may as well picture herself there, petrified forever!

"Shh, hey, it's okay Lily," Alice was at her side then, as if she could rub comfort into her through her arm. "I'll finish this, alright, everything will work out."

"N-no," she said stubbornly at once. "I was just, surprised."

"It's alright to admit otherwise," Frank said kindly, watching her shaking hands in concern.

"Well, I don't need to because I'm not," she snapped, stepping away from both of them. She refused to be pandered too when there was nothing wrong! She was being ridiculous, picturing herself as such a thing, they'd never be getting anywhere near whoever was doing this.

The two exchanged a look of concern but didn't protest anymore, letting her work this out how she saw fit.

The mirror made no sense to anyone, though Regulus shifted restlessly as he was sure an answer was piling up right in front of them. Those school rules McGonagall was suddenly trying to enforce wasn't going to help anything. Then he scoffed in disgust how easily swayed the house of Gryffindor was so ready to blame and throw out anyone of his own house. Of course none of those idiots would recognize a frame up job when one was presented.

"What are you two looking at over there?" Sirius finally demanded when James and Peter shared a dreadful look over mention of Harry going to see Hagrid again. It seemed like a good idea to him, see what the gamekeeper really did have to say about all of this.

"That we don't think Hagrid will be there when the boys come knocking," Peter sighed.

"Why?" Remus sat up in surprise to snatch the paper away now. "Think he's going to make a run for it, that's ridiculous."

"I know I would if that was coming for me," James said grimly when Remus went white in surprise.

"Oh for the love of-" Sirius snatched it away next rather than waiting for Moony to find his tongue, and then promptly lost his own. He swallowed uncomfortably and could only breathe again when the boys did it and found Hagrid indeed still at his cabin. His state though made it clear he was now as aware of his pending doom as they were. Someone would soon be calling to arrest him and take him to Azkaban, as this order by the Minister declared.

"They can't do this!" Peter whispered in a horror mirroring Hagrid's, he'd be doing much more than just breaking teapots around his own place.

"Oh but they can," James spat in disgust, suddenly on his feet and stamping across everything now without a care. More pages scattered about the entire room now, he had half a mind to conjure up more and create a mini-tornado full of all the Ministers most precious things and cast them away forever. He would never let this stand, Hagrid had done nothing to deserve this! If they'd had proof of this act he already would have been locked away, now they were just rehashing an old suspect, and for what? To put the blame on anyone? Or the half-giant.

Dumbledore's presence was the most mild of relief, and that was ruined anyways in the next second as the Minister himself was there to fill out the order.

There was nothing but stunned silence and nasty faces as Evans told all why Fudge was there, and things still only grew worse when Lucius Malfoy arrived.

Regulus tried to look relieved, but he couldn't find the feeling anywhere in him. The pure-blood stepping in would surely make all of this better and stop all this happening to kids, he knew that's exactly what his mother would say, but then he realized he shouldn't even be wanting this to stop. It was true the only ones being attacked were Muggleborns, and who should care if a few less of them were plaguing the school?

He did.

He hated to admit it, even to himself. It left him nauseous with the feeling a knife was going to sprout in his back any second for such a thought, but he couldn't deny it anymore. It just wasn't right, this happening to kids he shared a class with! How could it ever be right to see anyone so terrified for their own life, as Evans clearly was.

He didn't know who to turn to or what to do with this news of Dumbledore now being just as forcibly departed as the gamekeeper. He really couldn't think of much of anything past the idea this had to stop somehow. He couldn't imagine how things could get any worse as they were ripped from this place once more.

[maevescene]

Not Like the Others, pt. 1

Fred Weasley x Slytherin Reader

A/N: Super sorry if the timelines don’t match up. I tried my best but I was having heaps of fun with this one :) Part 2 coming soon!!!

Warnings: None that I can think of, fluff maybe? 

Summary: You’re in Slytherin, and on the quidditch team. You have developed a crush on Fred Weasley over the past few months, and are trying to uncover if he feels the same about you. 

___

The buzzing atmosphere in the dungeon was making you slightly itchy and totally nauseous. It was Friday morning before breakfast, and the common room was already bustling; green and silver paraphernalia was slowly covering the walls whilst excited students chattered amongst each other. 

“Knock ‘em dead, Y/N.”  

“Good luck tomorrow!” 

“I’m going to congratulate you now, I can just see the sweet victory! Divination has served me well.”

It was the first Quidditch match for the school year tomorrow, and being your third year on the Slytherin team, it made no sense to you to feel so nervous. You were a great Chaser – the best on the team, in fact. Your captain Marcus Flint made note of this regularly to bring the others in line.

But this morning, you knew there was something toying with your mind and trying to put you off. As you headed to breakfast, you tried to understand your queasiness, but couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

“Y/N,” a voice called behind you in the common room. You turned around to see your best friend Adrian seated on the black velvet sofa in front of the fireplace holding One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

“Hey,” you greeted while sitting down next to him. He draped his arm behind you across the back of the couch. “Weird question, but are you feeling okay?” 

He looked at you, concerned. “I think so. Am I meant to not feel okay?” 

You shook your head. “I must be nervous or something,” 

“You? Nervous?” he asked mockingly. “Why should you be nervous?” 

You felt a tingle run down your spine as his fingers began to tickle your neck. You immediately snapped your head to your shoulder to make him stop, but his fingers kept wiggling, even with limitations. You let out giggles and ‘stop it!’s as protest and tried to pull his arm away until he let up. 

“What was that for?” 

“You not realising how great you are.” 

Adrian has been your best friend since you two were children. Your families had been good friends since they were at Hogwarts, so you spent plenty of time together, having sleepovers and spending summer’s at his parent’s place in the country, which is where you both received your Hogwarts acceptance letters. You would consider him you friend soulmate, if such a thing existed. But many of the other students saw you as something more. Like now, for instance, a group of girls in your year are sitting next to the windows looking out to the black lake, giggling and whispering while looking directly at you - obvious signs of gossiping. You knew nothing would happen with Adrian. You were too good of friends to let something like feelings come and ruin more than a decade of friendship. And besides, he was like a brother to you. 

“Let’s go. I don’t want to miss out on any of those chocolate croissants,” you said.

Adrian packed up his textbook and meandered with you to exit the common room. You snaked your arm around his to link you together, just for the fun of keeping those girls guessing. Adrian didn’t seem to mind, as he looked down at you with a smile. 

***

You sat with two of your other teammates in the Great Hall. The uneasiness still lingered, as if you’d missed the last step on one of the moving staircases, which was admittedly a frequent occurrence. It was starting to get irritating, since you never felt like this, especially not before Quidditch. 

Your friends were all making an effort to have a normal morning to try and take their minds off tomorrow, although you could tell the upcoming Herbology quiz and the latest news articles about Sirius Black were the least of their worries.

The four of you came to an agreement early in your first year on the team together — that there was to be no speak of Quidditch two days before a match. It came about after a rather nasty incident during your first game together, which was also to never be discussed again. Several Slytherin students came up to the group to wish you luck tomorrow, and you all thanked them. As soon as they left, it was back to non sensical topics before someone blurted out anything to do with Quidditch. At least it was making you feel better. 

“We’re going to slaughter them tomorrow,” a voice sounded from behind you. 

Draco Malfoy. 

He had a twisted smirk on his face, and placed a hand on your friend Cassius’ shoulder, which made him jump. By them, Malfoy was talking about your opposition for tomorrow afternoon – Gryffindor. “I’d give anything to wipe that smug look off of Potter’s face.” 

As you tore a piece of croissant off, the uneasiness began to scratch at you again. But this time, you could pin point the feeling. It was as if a pair of eyes were lingering on you, nagging you to turn around. You tried to ignore it, but it was becoming unbearable. You looked to your right towards the table of professors, but there was nothing. It was probably just those unusual nerves. But as you looked to your left, a pair of eyes locked with yours. 

Fred Weasley. 

You grinned at him as if it was a reflex. He smiled back with a glistening look in his eyes, then took a sip from his goblet. 

“Y/N?” Adrian said, nudging your side. You returned to the conversation, going red in the cheeks as you finally understood the uneasiness.

To say you were in love was an overstatement. I was just a silly crush that you had on Fred, nothing more. He was in a few of your classes, and you have been good friends over the years. You were friends with lots of the Gryffindors in your year, actually. Despite the implications of being in Slytherin, and your friend’s morals, you were one of the friendlier ones and got along with people from all different houses, so it wasn’t surprising that you got on well with Fred, too. Maybe a little too well these past months, when this little crush emerged. You’d catch him staring at you numerous times in the day, and you always kept up a playful banter (which involved plenty of flirting) whenever you had the chance to speak with him. You always wondered if he felt the same about you, but knew it was best not to dwell on those things. You were just an ‘evil’ Slytherin, after all. 

“Are you ready for Potions?” Adrian asked you as the group started to head to the common room. You caught Fred’s gaze again with a side glance as you walked. You could’ve sworn he winked at you…

“Yeah. As ready as I’ll ever be,” you said mindlessly. A surge of heat rose to your face for the second time this morning, and you couldn’t help smiling to yourself.

“Great. I’m sitting next to you. I need to get out of Snape’s bad books desperately, and nothing will do that more than sitting next to our best Chaser. Snape loves you.”

You exited the Great Hall while you playfully elbowed Adrian. “You know the rules. No Quidditch talk until we get out of class. And gross.” 

*** 

“Postponed?” several voices chimed in confusion, which triggered an angry chatter to explode.

Professor McGonagall had summoned the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch players to the courtyard an hour into second period to announce the terrible news. You shook you head and huffed angrily. 

“We wanted to let the teams know first. Malfoy was sent to the hospital wing with an injury to his arm around an hour ago, and it looks to be serious,” she explained sternly. “Tomorrow’s Quidditch game will be postponed until further notice. The next match is scheduled as per usual, with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in a few weeks. I’m very sorry about this.” 

You turned to your Slytherin teammates and joined in ranting and cursing out Malfoy. After McGonagall finished speaking privately with Marcus and Oliver Wood, the two Quidditch captains, she sent everyone back to class. You trailed behind Adrian and Marcus back in the direction of Potions.

“Shame, huh?” a voice said behind you. You turned around to see Fred, and a small grin formed on your lips.

“Yeah, it sucks,” you commented as you walked together. “Malfoy’s such an idiot. Just wait until I get my hands on that slimy neck of his.”

“Tell me about it,” Fred said, rolling his eyes. “My brother Ron is always complaining about him. His whole family is pretty slimy, if you ask me.”

“Definitely,” you agreed, looking up at Fred to meet his eyes.

“Listen, if you ever need to send a rouge bludger on him any time soon, just let me know. George and I will sort something out for you,” he said kindly, winking at you for the second time today, which sent butterflies rattling in your stomach.

“I might have to hold you to that offer when he gets out of the hospital wing,” you grinned as you rounded the corner to enter the dungeons. 

“Say, it is a shame about the match, since we were going to totally beat you guys,” you say, poking your elbow into Fred’s arm.

“Oh,” Fred sung, bringing a hand to your side, tickling your weak spots. “A little bit competitive, are we?” 

You scoffed and swatted his hand away. “Well we can be, since, you know, we are the best team in the school,” you sighed confidently but jokingly. Fred shook his head while you climbed down the stairs. 

“Wow,” he sighed. “Competitive and cocky! No wonder no one likes Slytherin.” 

“Hey!” you exclaimed, playfully punching his arm. Fred knew you were sensitive about that topic, but he would say anything to get you riled up. 

“I’m kidding,” he laughed. “You’re different.” 

“Different?” 

“You know, you’re not like the other Slytherins. You’re actually very likeable.” 

He looked down at you with that same sparkly look he gave you this morning. 

“Maybe you wouldn’t like me as much if we had beaten you guys tomorrow,” you joked. 

Fred playfully nudged your shoulder as you walked up to your classroom where Snape was waiting outside. 

“Took a detour, Mr. Weasley?” he asked rhetorically. You peered inside the classroom to see Adrian already seated at your table. He looked at you, then at Fred. Maybe you were dawdling? 

“No, sir. It was just-“ 

“Five points from Gryffindor for being late, and five for holding up Miss Y/L/N.” 

You wanted to protest, but realised you shouldn’t defend a Gryffindor in front of your Head of House.

Snape made way for the both of you to enter the class, and resumed teaching. As you sat down in your seat, Adrian looked at you with the same concern he had on his face this morning. 

“What were you doing with Weasley?” he whispered. 

“Nothing,” you said innocently. “Just talking.” 

You both returned to the lesson about the properties of unicorn horns and it’s uses in different potions, but couldn't help yourself. You caught Fred’s gaze from across the room. He poked his tongue out at you for making him lose 10 points for Gryffindor. You poked back, which make him grin that cheeky grin. 

[ah-kasuna]

Puppetry in a Nutshell // ♥ I ♥

Pairing: SasoDei

AU: Art School

THIS IS THE 1ST PART AND MY VERY 1ST TRANSLATION ;_; I ain’t native speaker, so there will be mistakes I think, so please let me know about them, so I could fix em! Tbh it feels like doin it with the blindfold on, so XD Yeah, forgive me anyway. 

I hope you’ll like it!♥ Let me know what you think please! Love ya!

AND I DEDICATE IT TO @deidaraakasuna, U KNOW WHY♥♥♥

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geidai.

The world-famous Fine Arts Academy, located in one of the most charming corners of Tokyo. 

A place that growing artists dream about, perceiving it as a mystical land of inspiration and creativity (until they see sculpture students playing with their own Pony ponies). 

The university to get to is a high-class feat, usually drenched in liters of alcohol and liters of tears in a later hangover. After all, who wouldn't get drunk on this occasion? 

I smiled at the vague memories as I unpacked my breakfast and shook my head fondly. Basically, this sentimental feeling of being an old woman with a bunch of grandchildren has accompanied me since the beginning of my sophomore year, when I watched the freshmen roaming the corridors in sweet ignorance of their fate. Fortunately or not, this intoxicating state faded into non-existent at the end of the first semester as the session approached. And it just so happened that it was just approaching, breaking the will to fight along the way and magically depriving the students of creative inspiration, the one necessary - as you can easily guess - to pass half a year at a group of charming leaders.

My gloomy eyes followed the classroom. Outside the corridor window, visible through the open door, a bird chirped merrily. The weather was beautiful - a typical Japanese spring. The cherries were blooming, scattering fragrant white-pink petals around, and I was rotting at the epicenter of All Evil, like a condemned man aware of what was about to happen. And which happened cyclically twice a week, because my goddamn ambition pushed me to apply for this equally damned university. And so I redeemed my sins before I died, regretting abandoning the idea of ​​self-improvement in the privacy of my modest (but equipped with a kettle and toaster!) Apartment. What more could you want?

I shoved a huge piece of bread in my mouth, which I chewed for five minutes before he graciously wanted to squeeze through my esophagus. A dry mouth like this meant only one thing: my brain finally picked up the information that puppetry classes were about to begin. For my despairing amusement, everyone was rushing to their seats, with shaking hands shoving paints, chisels, and the rest of the necessary utensils out of their bags, as if someone's life depended on the speed of their perfect arrangement on the table. I felt a sudden urge to laugh out loud.

If asked about the reason why the very thought of puppetry gave the vast majority of students sudden symptoms of delirium and depression, the answer would be simple, concise, and more eloquent than the potency pill ads: Hell Cerberus aka Sasori Akasuna. Officially - a lecturer in a terribly heavy and hated subject; in fact - the walking essence of the deepest pits of hell. What was it about him that wherever he went - everyone immediately cut off discussions and silly games? Well, the puppetry professor not only carefully nurtured the art of being laconic, cynical and ruthless. He was devilishly intelligent, even more talented and vindictive and possesive a tons of sophisticated sarcasm, which he liked to apply with the greatest pleasure to me. 

The bell rang. Everyone but me jumped up immediately and Akasuna entered the classroom. As always: in a perfectly matched shirt, elegant pants, a perfectly knotted tie and an equally perfect boredom on the face.

I reluctantly swallowed the rest of my bun, limiting myself to lazily lifting my ass off the chair and making a painful expression. Anyway, I was a loser at the outset, so I saw no point in putting on a similar play as the others, which only maked him sastisfied more. I clenched my fists automatically. Not this time, man!

The professor walked slowly towards the cathedral by stairs, giving the impression of a man who  scrupulously and deeply don't care for this worldly place and time. And perhaps I would even fall for his 'dun-give-a-shit' play, if I had not been marked by his hatred from the very first class. And yet, it's not like I did something to him, oh no. I was simply not susceptible to his mental puppet strings, so I stubbornly disagreed with him on the essence of the art. For him, the highest dimension of beauty were - horror of horrors - goofy make-uped puppets; for me, the art was much less crude carving in plastic materials, where every little movement could fix or spoil everything. And the wood? It was too patient, too tough, hard to work with, unresponsive to the tender touch of trained hands, and it had splinters ...

Everything happened according to the established order. Akasuna checked the attendance, gave an excruciatingly boring spiel about our laziness and talentlessness (noting that exams were coming up), and then had everyone make an individual puppet design. I groaned woefully like the rest of them, reluctantly reaching into my bag for a sketchbook and a set of pencils.

I loved nothing so much as wasting my time gouging dolls. To my left, a class idiot Tobi, wrapped in an orange and black scarf almost under his nose, looked at me as if I was a revelation of heavens.

"Don't even try," I said, feeling what was happening." We'll be kicked out both."

The guy made cat eyes, but said nothing more, and I went to work. I was drawing the lines in concentration, letting my mind wander along the definitely nice tracks, and in the end I turned off mind for good. And I would have been drawing in peace so I'd probably have finished this stupid task if that black-haired moron at the desk next to mine had not disturbed me with his grunts accompanying his neck stretching towards my work. 

It was the end of my composure. I lifted my head from the project and cursed him to the next five generation, supporting my words with a discreet but well-hit kick. There was a muffled groan.

"Kawamoto, shall you explain me what are you doing?" I immediately heard the distinctive, bored tone of his voice and stiffened on my chair. 

The professor was standing a few steps away from me, eyebrows raised and hands folded across his chest.

"Should I take you to the playground?"

"I'm trying to work, professor," I grunted, holding back the appropriate retort and wondering how the heck did he materialized at my desk.

"Good choice of words, indeed." The corner of his mouth curled up in a cynical smile. "Then be that kind and continue your trials in peace, unless you prefer to try at another university."

I felt my blood flooding. Tobi inhaled loudly, knowing what awaited him at the break, and Akasuna leisurely returned to the cathedral, occasionally glancing at me with hideous satisfaction.

I hated him. I hated him most sincerely and most earnestly, with particular emphasis on his physicality, which, despite the sadistic nature, made most of the female students' knees soften and their tongues tangled. Because exactly! He wasn't just a psychopath. He was a disgustingly handsome psychopath who was well aware of this fact and was not embarrassed to make use of it.

Unfortunately, it happened that he accidentaly found out about my moderate interest in the opposite sex, and from that moment he enjoyed torturing me with himself, perfectly guessing my preferences and weaknesses.

"May you rot in these shavings," I drawled under my breath, sticking a pencil on a blank sheet of paper and tracing a busty doll in a ballerina costume on it, with revenge paints 'Miss Sasori' on her exposed ass. And I would probably enjoy this piece of finest art until the end of the class, if I hadn't realized what my "blank sheet" was and why I just sentenced myself to death. I scribbled a porn image of the puppetry professor on the outline.

The bell rang.

"I would like to remind you that today we have the deadline for submitting the presentation plans to pass," his voice occurred to me as if through a fog.

Did I really hoped it would end well? With my heart pounding in the chest, I tore the rubber band out of my pocket, trying to erase the traces of my crime, as I caught above me the distinctive smell of his perfume.

"It was especially to you, Kawamoto," he announced icily, slipping the battered paper out from under my hands with a nimble movement. 

He attached it to the stack of papers he held, without even glaring at it, and left me sitting at the desk with a silent scream of terror on my face.

[captainkippen]

hi how about mary’s song (oh my my my) by taylor swift and tyrus for the song inspired one shots! i love your writing

Fun fact, this is my favourite Taylor song.

Mary’s Song

-- a tyrus fic

Cyrus was seven years old when TJ Kippen and his family moved in next door. Their first meeting wasn’t the smoothest, what with Cyrus accidentally running TJ down on his new bike and all, but it kicked off something incredible. They say the greatest romances are the kind you never expect but Cyrus wasn’t sure that was true.

Their dads build them the treehouse when they were eleven. It was a joint effort to give Cyrus and TJ somewhere to play that the adults could keep an eye on so they’d stop running into the street outside (too many narrow misses had occurred with Cyrus and cars) but it didn’t do much to stop the two from getting in trouble. It was an even sort of structure, twelve feet up in a tree that sat between the border of their two gardens, and perfectly safe as long as you didn’t jump down the ladder. They lit it old camping lamps and fairy lights dug out of the Goodman family’s garage so in the summer evenings when all the grownups were having drinks the boys could climb up and escape for a few hours in the dark.

At night, the treehouse was magical. It had an air of secrecy and enchantment that made it feel like stepping into another world altogether. Cyrus loved it more than any place he’d ever been and it was possible that TJ loved it even more. They would lie down in there and gaze at the stars, which peered out through the tall tree branches, talking about anything and everything. It was an unspoken agreement in the treehouse; a place of confidence. Any secrets you told would not leave those walls. It was safe.

“TJ?” Cyrus asked one night when they were twelve.

TJ turned his head and looked at Cyrus right in the eye, making his throat go dry and tight. That had been happening a lot lately, Cyrus couldn’t begin to explain why. The two of them laid side by side looking at the bright moon through the window. Reality felt miles away.

“Yeah?”

A pause while Cyrus mustered up the courage followed, but TJ waited patient as ever to hear him out.

He took a deep breath. “I. I think- I’m gay.”

“Oh. Okay,” TJ said, then turned away again.

Cyrus frowned. “Okay?”

“So you don’t have a crush on Andi then?” TJ asked, turning his eyes to stare at the ceiling. Andi was one of his best friends, a girl he’d known since elementary school, she was awesome but he couldn’t imagine having a crush on her. Cyrus stared at him. The tips of his ears were going red.

“No…” He said, then, “Do you?”

“What? No!”

“Okay… good,” Cyrus said slowly. “Glad we got that covered.”

There was another brief pause which might have been silent if it didn’t seem like Cyrus could almost hear the cogs in TJ’s brain working. He’d really thought his best friend might have something more to say about him coming out than ‘oh, okay’. In a strange way, he found himself a little annoyed at the lack of reaction. And why on earth would TJ think he had feelings for Andi?

“You know,” he said. “It’s okay if you do have a crush on Andi.”

“I don’t!”

He wasn’t sure he believed him.

TJ sat up a little, pushing up on to his elbows and turning to look at Cyrus again properly. “So… do you have a crush on anyone?”

Cyrus looked away to pick at his shoes and mumbled a negative. TJ narrowed his eyes.

“Liar,” he said, poking him. “Tell me the truth.”

Cyrus sighed. “Fine. I might… I kind of like Jonah.”

“Jonah Beck?!”

He nodded.

TJ groaned. “But he’s the worst. He totally hates me.”

“But he doesn’t hate me,” Cyrus said, struggling not to laugh at TJ’s expression. “‘Sides, he’d probably hate you less if you didn’t act like such an idiot around him.”

At that, TJ grabbed a pillow and thumped him with it. It was with the ensuing pillow fight that the conversation was brought to a staggering halt, and they spent the rest of the night clearing up stray feathers, promptly forgetting all discussion of crushes. Or at least, that was what happened for Cyrus. Unbeknownst to him, the thought of Cyrus liking Jonah lingered in TJ’s mind for many nights to come.

*

Watching tiny white feathers flutter down out of the tree house window from where they were sat on the patio, the boys’ parents smiled and exchanged looks sweet amusement. Over the years, barbecues in the garden had become one of their favourite group past times. The Goodmans and Kippens were as good friends as their sons.

“One day those boys are going to grow up and get married,” Mr Kippen joked, listening to the distant sound of teenage laughter as he took a swig of his beer. “Attached at the hip they are.”

“Oh man, can you imagine the chaos they’d produce if they had kids?” Todd, Cyrus’ stepfather, laughed in return.

Neither of their wives laughed, they merely just looked at one another with identical knowing smiles, and Mrs Kippen rolled her eyes as she raised her wine glass.

“To our sons, for bringing us together,” she said, and it was with a great cheer that the rest of them clinked their glasses together in a toast.

*

At fourteen, playing dares had become TJ’s favourite thing. He’d become friends with two boys, Lester and Reed, who were as reluctant to talk to Cyrus as he was to talk to them. They were the popular kind of boys known for being loud and obnoxious in class, causing trouble, and generally being a nuisance. The two of them gave him an uneasy feeling, but he didn’t dare voice that to TJ. He didn’t want to be seen as uncool. Sometimes he wished he had the courage to - it might have stopped TJ from dragging him to all their awful hangouts.

There was one day in particular spent out on the dirt tracks where the bikers spent their time, Reed and Lester smoked and TJ talked to them about something incomprehensible to Cyrus while he hung back and watched on with thinly veiled disgust. An hour in a couple of unfamiliar girls showed up and it was no time at all before Reed was rounding them all up into a circle on the ground, announcing they were going to play truth or dare, which made TJ grin wildly. The uneasy feeling was a firm brick in Cyrus’ stomach. He wanted to go home and watch the collection of terrible eighties movies that TJ’s dad had dug out of the garage for them last week. Sitting in the dirt with a group of people he didn’t trust was not his first choice on how to spend a Saturday, especially with a sleepover game involved.

“You in, Goodman?” Reed asked. There was a challenge in his tone that made Cyrus want to tell him to go shove it, but instead, he just sighed.

“I’m in.”

He should’ve known Reed was up to no good.

Two rounds in, and that’s when it happened. He heard the words, but didn’t really register them, he’d been a little zoned out with boredom. Then TJ was leaning towards him, saying something, and at first Cyrus just nodded in confusion. Then, TJ reached up to cup his face and he pulled away startled.

TJ had been dared to kiss him.

“Igottago,” Is all that he could say as he jumped up and sprinted away, his heart pounding, and he could hear TJ shouting after him as he went. He didn’t stop. He ran all the way home.

Later, and by later I mean by about half an hour, TJ found him hiding in the treehouse under a pile of blankets.

“Cy?” He asked quietly.

Cyrus lowered the blanket from his face to peer at him. TJ looked shamefaced, shuffling his feet awkwardly and biting at a hangnail. Guilt sat heavy in his eyes. They looked at one another in silence for a moment before TJ sat down with a sigh.

“I can’t believe you ran this whole way,” he complained. “How did your lungs not give out?”

“I’m good at running away from my problems,” Cyrus joked half-heartedly. “You know that.”

“You don’t usually run away from me though.”

“You’re not usually a problem.”

TJ let out a huff and grabbed the edge of the blanket Cyrus was tucked under, wiggling until he was shoved up against him and blanketed neatly under it too. He lay on his side, one eyebrow raised and looking at his friend, while Cyrus stared at the wall ahead unwilling to meet his eye.

“Wanna tell me what that was about?”

“Not really.”

“Cy.”

“Ugh. Fine. I just… I don’t like your friends, okay?”

TJ snorted. “Yeah. I figured that out, but don’t deflect I know that’s not what this as about. C’mon, talk to me. You know you can tell me anything.”

That was the annoying thing, Cyrus knew he was right. He rolled on to his side, only a little reluctant, to look at him as he spoke.

“I didn’t want my first kiss to be a dare.”

TJ frowned. “You haven’t had your first kiss?”

“Don’t you think I would’ve told you?”

“Oh. I just- I don’t know, I just thought that time we played seven minutes in heaven at Andi’s… you and Jonah might’ve- I thought you guys kissed.”

“We didn’t.”

The guilt in TJ’s eyes returned. “Hm.”

“I would’ve told you,” Cyrus said quietly.

It was another few moments before Cyrus mustered up the nerve to speak again.

“I want it to be with someone who loves me.”

“What?”

“My first kiss. I… I just want it to mean something, you know? I don’t want it to be done because of a dare.”

TJ smiled. “Yeah, I get you. I’m sorry about all that.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. And don’t worry, I won’t make you hang out with Reed anymore. I know you don’t like him… I guess I just kind of wanted you guys to get along, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Cyrus said. “I tried. I really did.”

“I know. It’s okay, not everyone gets along all the time,” TJ said, then he paused. “Cy?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you said you wanted your first kiss to be someone who loved you.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

Cyrus stared at him.

“I’m just sayin’, if you wanted to get your first kiss out of the way, I could…”

“You’re offering to kiss me?”

TJ shrugged at him and grinned. “Nobody better to have your first kiss with than the person who knows you best in the world, plus I know I’m cute. You could do a lot worse.”

Cyrus snorted. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“I do.”

The kiss was lovely as far as first kisses go. Soft, tingling, and the kind of kiss that made you warm from your cheeks down to your toes. In the future, the memory of it would keep Cyrus awake at night while he touched his lips and thought about the way TJ’s hair fell into his face when he laughed. It was beautiful.

They ended up falling asleep up there together, eyes drifting closed from the hazy warmth, and didn’t wake up until they were called in for dinner.

*

At seventeen, Cyrus and TJ had their first serious fight. It was late at night, coming back from a party, and they both sat in the front of TJ’s truck with the anger threatening to boil over any moment. Their friends sat in awkward silence in the back, rolling out of there as fast as they could when TJ pulled up outside of Andi’s house and slammed the doors shut after themselves as they raced to get away.

TJ cut off the engine. Cyrus folded his arms and stared straight ahead. They had reached a stalemate in terms of progress - Cyrus wasn’t sure he wouldn’t curse TJ out if he spoke and TJ wasn’t sure he wouldn’t say something regrettably mean if he didn’t calm down first. It took a few minutes before he finally broke the silence.

“You don’t get to be mad about this,” he said, voice controlled as he gripped the steering wheel in a tight grip.

Cyrus turned and looked at him with an expression of disbelief. “I don’t get to be mad about this? Are you serious?”

“It’s none of your business,” TJ fired back.

Cyrus let out a dry laugh void of any humour. “None of my business? It’s my friend that you’re cheating on-”

“I told you already that I didn’t-”

“-don’t tell me you weren’t because I saw-”

“-cheating on Natalie because we-”

“-you kissing Kira. You were literally making out in the bathroom with her-”

“-broke up!”

Their bickering ceased immediately and Cyrus frowned.

“What?”

“Me and Natalie,” TJ said ground out, refusing to meet Cyrus’ eye. “Broke up.”

“...Seriously?”

He nodded.

“When?”

“Like two days ago, I don’t know,” TJ sighed.

The anger in the set of Cyrus’ shoulders fizzled out and he relaxed, reaching out to put a comforting hand on TJ’s arm.

“What happened?”

TJ lifted his shoulders in a small shrug and leaned back. “I don’t know. Stuff. She said I was too distracted… that I needed to figure my shit out. Told me I didn’t really love her.”

Cyrus made a sympathetic noise and tried to ignore the feeling of secret joy rattling around in his chest. Now was not the time to be happy that TJ was single. He was clearly upset. He needed his friend there for him.

“I’m sorry. That really sucks,” He said. “...How come you didn’t you tell me?”

TJ shrugged again.

Cyrus pulled back and rested his head against the back of the seat. “So… you and Kira?”

“Not a thing,” TJ reassured him. “I was just trying something.”

“Oh?”

He sighed, Cyrus gave him a curious look.

“I think Natalie was right,” TJ said. “I had stuff to figure out.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He half expected TJ to say no. Over the past couple of years, his friend had become less and less likely to talk about anything related to feelings. Cyrus didn’t like it but he had learned to live with it. As long as TJ told him the really important stuff then it was fine. That was why he was surprised when TJ next spoke.

“How d’you know if you love someone?” He asked.

Cyrus blinked at him. “I guess it depends on the kind of love.”

“Like… love love. Romance, marriage, valentines kind of love.”

Cyrus wanted to say he didn’t know, but he also knew he couldn’t lie to TJ. He knew firsthand that being in love felt like you were tripping over your own heart, again and again, every day. It felt like fire and devotion and hopelessness. It was awful and perfect at the same time.

“You just do, I guess,” Is what he told him instead.

TJ wet his lips - his most noticeable nervous tick.

“Why do you ask?”

“I think Natalie was right about me not loving her,” TJ said, then swallowed hard. “‘Cause I think I’m in love with someone else.”

Cyrus’ heart broke in two. He looked away. “Oh.”

“Cyrus.”

It took him a moment, but he forced himself to look at TJ. The look in TJ’s eyes was nothing like what he’d expected. It was open, unadulterated honesty. Perfect, lovely, and lonely all at once. Cyrus had seen that look on his own face in pictures of them together. He recognised it at once.

It was love.

Their second kiss was as perfect as the first, with more desperation and longing than they could’ve put into any sentences they said that night. It was the promise of a future, a vow protecting their past, and a mark of everything they had shared so far.

*

Their wedding was beautiful. It was held in the Goodmans’ back garden, treehouse in view, with all their closest friends and relatives packed in to watch them tie the knot. Cyrus cried outright, TJ tried not to and failed at the sight of both of their mothers shedding a tear, and when they said their vows they both knew they meant every word of them deep in their bones.

Todd clapped TJ on the back and told him he was excited to see the two of them build a tree house of their own, and when the line for giving congratulations had finally died down TJ and Cyrus managed to sneak up the tree themselves for a few minutes alone.

They laid down on the dusty old floor and looked out at the sunlight filtering through the trees.

“I can’t wait to spend my life with you,” TJ whispered, taking Cyrus’ hand.

Cyrus squeezed his fingers in response and with a soft smile he said in return, “Me too. Hey, you remember that time we were in here and you asked if I had a crush on anyone?”

TJ snorted. “Yeah, and you said Jonah.”

Cyrus laughed. “Yeah, well… I have a secret to tell you.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t Jonah. It was you.”

*

Cyrus was twenty-seven years old when he and TJ moved into their new house. They say the greatest romances are the kind you never expect but after twenty years of back and forth flirtations, shared memories, and stolen kisses, Cyrus came to believe the best romances were the ones you should have seen coming from a mile away.

[sparklyaxolotlstudent]

Ladybug Puppet Show 9

Origins Part 1

“Hello everyone!” Luka greeted everyone in the classroom by saying hello. He was a little taken aback when everyone waved back and some stared at him.

“Ok, the goggles I kinda dig, too steampunk for my tastes, but they have their own charm” said Alya eyeing the newcomer. “But why are you dressed like a Ninja Turtle?”

“To get in character!” he explained, with a dramatic pose.

“And the Captain America toy shield?”

“I’m on a budget.”

“Ah”

“Besides, do you know how hard it is to find Carapace merchandise?”

“Tell me about it! He’s the best one… after Ladybug and Queen Bee, of course, so one would expect for him to be included in all stuff!”

“Are you still crushing on him, eh Chloe?”

“Well, duh, he’s still a fine piece of…”

“Kagami! Hi!” Adrien greeted his friend when he noticed she had arrived and was looking at Luka and Rose weirdly.

“Hello. A background extra told me you were here. Ready for some good old sword to sword combat?”

“I thought you guys had fencing until tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but we’re practicing for the Renaissance Fair with real swords and name calling.”

“Oh…kay”

“SO! We’re kind of in the middle of our Ladybug Show and Adrien is an important part of this.”

“But I’m not voicing anyone or anything”

“I thought you were Chat Noir?”

“Spoilers, but no, that’s Kim”

“Well, since we rewrote a bit to make the Keeper and the Narrator different people, we kinda wanted you to be the narrator”

“I can narrate” said Kagami flipping through the script that Marinette had lent her. “This sounds fun”

“Thanks but you are kind of… stoic.”

“I can do other emotions”

“Other than angry?”

Kagami cleared her throat and dramatically placed the script at an appropriate reading level. “A long time ago, in a land far away, lived Princess Tikki, she was cute as a peach, in a pineapple way…” Kagami stopped her dramatic reading for a second and reread that line in her head again several times “wait, isn’t this a song from that Disney movie?”

“Yeah, Marc is kind of obsessed with Disney and made us put that in”

“High School Musical and is a cinematic masterpiece and very few movies have managed to achieve what they have done”

“Let me guess, Teen Beach Movie, Descendants and Camp Rock?”

“No, Camp Rock sucks. All the others, yes.”

“Well, if we’re done lusting after Zac Efron…”

“Alya, please, we’ll never be done lusting after Zac Efron. Have you seen Nathaniel’s comic?”

“… well, I have, I’m not sure if I like the TroyxRyan aternate ending”

“What can I say? Lucas Grabeel is more to my tastes”

“Yeah, but you didn’t had to include the ‘wedding night’”

“It was a commission AND I told you not to keep swiping…”

“Hey, let’s focus on the important, Kagami can read!”

“… excuse me?”

“I mean, Kagami can be our narrator. She has a nice voice… and this would add some color to our whitewashed cast” said Marinette pointing to Luka, Mylene, Aurore and Chloe. Kim felt offended he wasn’t pointed.

“Oh. I’m glad you think like that, because we decided to make you our Keeper”

“WHAT? Why me??? I’m busy with the puppet making and stuff!” Marinette replied, pointing to the box that had the puppets inside, with a frog-like creature wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

“He only appears every other episode and gives cryptic advice that the heroes must decipher on their own, it will be a piece of cake”

“FINE!” Marinette agreed finally, just to stop thinking how on point they were being about Grandpa Chan character.

“Okay, let’s start, Narrator?”

“A long time ago, in a land far away, lived Princess Tikki, she was cute as a peach in a pineapple way, although she hardly speak…y. She was born in the Silver Miraculous Kingdom, based on the moon. Princess Tikki fell in love with ... Zefron.., a prince of earth, but because of evil Queen Grimhilde, earthlings and moonies started a war. As a last resort, Princess Tikki sacrificed herself and created the Miraculous, magic jewels that bestow extraordinary powers to those that hold them. Throughout history, heroes have used these jewels for the good of the human race.”

“As a descendant of Princess Tikki… wait, I thought she had sacrificed herself?”

“… she… huh… she left an egg behind. Go with the flow MariKeeper!”

“Tikki will kill me… AHEM! As a Descendant of Princess Tikki, my duty for eons has been to keep the Miraculous safe and sound, and to choose worthy individuals when times of great need arise. I am the Keeper.”

“But this idiot couldn’t even do this basic thing and ended up losing one of the Miraculous, that of the Butterfly”

“Hey, everything was fine until the fire nation attacked!”

“Wrong show, and you still lost the Butterfly and its current holder is now causing trouble”

“Shush you disembodied voice, I’m going to chose five teenagers with attitude to fight against the current holder”

“You’re going to try to recover the Miraculous by losing even more? Specifically the ones he’s currently after?”

“Don’t question the traditions of my people!”

“Boop boop. And so, The Keeper chose five teenagers to be the current team of Miraculous holders that would hopefully recover the Butterfly Miraculous and not destroy the world in the process.”

“Carapace!” yelled Luka, which startled everyone, even Juleka. “With the Power of the Turtle, Protection is my game!”

“Rena Rouge!” said Aurore, adding a flirty wink at the end. “Illusions are my passion, I am the Fox”

“Queen Bee!” added Chloe, glaring at Aurore. Now she wouldn’t be able to play herself as the flirty one. “I am Bee. I am Queen… seriously?”

“Go with the flow Chlo-Chlo!” Chloe rolled her eyes and blew a raspberry.

“Chat Noir!” yelled Kim as enthusiastically as he could. “I’m just a Cat, at night I rule, my ring is charged with energy, my claws are out, just watch and see!”

“Chat, the camera is on the other direction” Mylene read from the script. “Hi! I’m Ladybug, my power is Common Sense!”

“Miracuteam!” yelled the five of them at the same time.

“Miracuteam? If that’s how they want to be called…”

“Well Mister… err… Miss Narrator, I wanted ‘Queen Bee and her Fabulous Four’ but these peasants thought otherwise”

“Impudent fools!” added Rose in the hammiest tone she could muster. “Now the Butterfly is the one putting traps, and those fools fell for it. It’s only a matter of time until I get their Miraculous and conquer the world MWAHAHAHA… or get Ice Cream. My motives are vague at best.”

“No adlibbing Rose!... Although I liked the evil laugh. Ok, we’ll keep that.”

 -

And once Again, the day was saved thanks to a bunch of puppets controlled by some amateurs! Well, that's the Secret Origins of the Miraculous Team. Can you guess how many things Alya and Cia. are ripping off?

And yes, Marc is totally a Disney fanboy.

[rosapeachhogwartsmystery]

They are right, you are cute (Hogwarts Mystery Imagine - fem!reader x Barnaby Lee)

Masterlist  (To view my Masterlist, visit my Tumblr page)

Request: So, please excuse me if you don't really take prompts but imagine: pre becoming friends Barnaby end up crushing on oblivious femMC because someone pointed out how cute she was and the idiot is a little weak to suggestion.

A/N: I have used some of the dialogue that is used in the game, especially in the beginning, because that way it would somewhat follow the canon of befriending Barnaby. I hope you will enjoy it.

Words: 3.0k

Pairing: fem!reader x Barnaby Lee

_________________________________________________

“If you mess with Merula, I’ll vanish all the bones in your body.” Barnaby told you. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Why are you friends with her? She’s terrible to everyone.” You told him, just not understand why he would even consider being friends with her. She always seemed to insult and look down at everyone. You just couldn’t stand that kind of behaviour. 

“If what’s inside the vaults will make me stronger, then I want it.” He said seriously. “Merula is the most cunning witch in Hogwarts. The only way I will ever get into the vaults is to do exactly what she says.” He told you. 

You rolled your eyes. That just sounded like something Merula would say. “Is that what she told you?” You asked. 

“Yeah.” He said simply. You shook your head and sighed. “Did you ever think she might be lying to manipulate you?” You asked. 

He looked a little taken aback, thinking about your words for a moment. “Don’t try to make me think, Y/L/N...” He said angrily, before he walked away. 

You watched him walk away and shook your head again.

“What a strange boy.” You mumbled. 

“Barnaby is one of the strongest wizards in our year, but he’s thicker than a troll.” Rowan said. 

“Even a troll would know to never trust Merula. We’d better get going to our next class…” You said, still wondering what Barnaby was thinking. 

You didn’t need to see it twice to see Merula was basically commanding Barnaby and Ismelda around. Although, Ismelda seemed to be crazy enough to actually think Merula is an amazing person. She always seemed to be into the dark things. Perhaps the Dark Arts just fascinated her? If so, probably a bit too much. You couldn’t really judge her, because you didn’t really know her. Besides it would be wrong to do, after all you hate being judged by others because Jacob. Barnaby might be able to see through Merula with a little help… Just maybe. Perhaps having a friend in Slytherin could help you out with the Cursed Vaults. Didn’t Rowan just say Barnaby is one of the strongest wizards in your year?

Well, becoming friends with Barnaby was definitely harder than you thought after the Dungbomb Tulip and you set off to face Merula without Barnaby and Ismelda around. After you told him you him you wanted his help he smiled. 

“I like you, Y/N.” He began. 

“Great!” You said with a smile. 

“We should fight.” He told you. 

You were baffled by that. “What?” You asked, wondering if you heard him right. 

“I need to prove I’m tough enough to help you and you need to prove you are tough enough to be my new partner.” He explained. “Meet me on the Training Grounds. If you beat me I’ll ditch Merula, and help you enter the next vault...” He said. 

You hesitated a little, but eventually agreed. If that’s the way to befriend Barnaby and have another person to help you enter the next vault then you would do it. Besides, you have duelled with Merula before, how much stronger would Barnaby be?

  Well, he was definitely a lot stronger than you thought. Rowan wasn’t kidding when she told you he was one of the strongest wizards in your year. You barely won the duel. Was he alright? 

“I always thought you had to be mean to hurt someone that badly.” He said.  

“Are you all right?” You asked him. 

“I’m fine. A few of us Slytherins start every day by hurting each other. They say it gets you in the right mindset.” He told you. 

“That sounds terrible.” You said, grimacing a bit at the idea. 

He shrugged. 

“Anyways, you are certainly tough, Barnaby. Will you help me get into the next Cursed Vault?” You asked him. 

“As long as we can celebrate our new partnership with a butterbeer.” He said. 

“Of course.” You told him with a smile. “I will see you later then.” You said before you walked off.

  Barnaby smiled and then he walked back into the Slytherin Common room, sitting down close to the fireplace. He blinked when he heard your name being used by someone. He raised an eyebrow and began listening to the conversation. There were three guys who were talking about you. 

“You have got to admit, Y/L/N is pretty cute.” One of them said. 

“I know right? A pretty face and her personality isn’t that bad either.” Another one said. 

“Besides the fact she is looking for the Cursed Vaults with her friends, she isn’t a bad person at all. Maybe a little mad, but what do you expect? Her brother is missing and he went mad when he looked for the Cursed Vaults. Maybe he just rubbed it off a little.” The third guy said. 

The first guy grinned. “Isn’t there a saying that only the best people are crazy?” He said amused. “Besides, just think about what kind of bombshell she would be when she gets older? I mean she is just in her third year. She could become even prettier.” He said. 

“I haven’t even thought about that.” The second guy said. 

“Maybe one of us should ask her out.” The third guy said.

  Barnaby began thinking about you. They were right, you did have a pretty face… Also, you seemed to be genuinely nice to him. Sure, they might be right you were a little mad, but he surely could see you were pretty amazing as well. Not everyone could say they beat him in a duel after all. Yeah, you were definitely cute, Barnaby could see that clearly as day. 

Barnaby snapped awake when one of those guys said his name. 

“Is it true you asked Y/L/N to drink a butterbeer with you?” The first guy said. 

“Yeah, I did.” Barnaby said. 

“You are so lucky she said yes, man.” The second guy said. 

“You get to go on a date with a cute girl.” The third guy said. 

Wait, a date? Barnaby didn’t even know it was a date. “I’m just going to drink a butterbeer with her, nothing more.” Barnaby said. 

“With a very cute girl. Not many people can say that.” The first guy said. 

“Well, unless they have been drinking butterbeer with Penny Haywood.” The second guy said. 

“Yeah, Penny Haywood is pretty cute as well. The same level as Y/L/N.”

  If Barnaby wasn’t thinking about you before those guys talked about you, then he would definitely be thinking about you now. It was like he was seeing you in a different light. The way those guys talked about you made him realize how cute you were. He definitely became more nervous to drink butterbeer with you. Those guys thought he had asked you out on a date. 

Perhaps it was a date? Wasn’t dating something else? He shook his head. No, this was just a friendly celebration of new partnership. He just looked forward to see you again. He wondered if he could get to know you a bit more than he did now. Besides the fact you seemed to be genuinely nice to him, you still were a bit of a mystery. He kind of listened to the rumours about you and they definitely didn’t seem to describe you that well.

Barnaby waited for you to arrive at the Three Broomsticks. Once you arrived he felt a little nervous, but he managed to mask his nerves pretty well. 

You gave him a smile and walked over to where he was sitting. 

“Have a seat. After a good duel, I always like a Butterbeer. They say it heals bruises and broken bones.” He told you. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Who says that?” You asked him. 

He seemed to be thinking and then he shrugged. “I can’t remember. I’m sure someone probably said that.” He told you. 

“Interesting…” You said, wondering where he could have heard something like that. “Well, I do agree it is nice to have a Butterbeer after a duel.” You said with a smile. “Anyways, could I ask you a few things?” You asked. 

“Go ahead.” He said. 

“How did you become friends with Merula?” You asked him. 

“We have a lot in common, both our parents were Death Eaters.” He told you. 

“Really?” You asked. You did know Merula’s parents were Death Eaters, but you haven’t heard about other students who have Death Eaters as parents. 

“Why are you surprised? Everyone knows Slytherins have the most interesting childhoods.” He said. 

“I suppose so.” You said.

  The two of you began talking and you have learnt a lot about Barnaby’s life. He even told you he has seen He Who Must Not Be Named. You might know more about him, but still felt like you were a mystery. Still, he could tell you were really nice to him and you actually seemed to listen to him. Merula never listened to him, at least not very often. Maybe she did in the beginning, but maybe she was trying to manipulate him like you said. 

“If you don’t mind, Y/N. Could you also tell about yourself?” He asked. 

You blinked. “Oh, sure. What do want to know?” You asked with a smile. 

“What was your childhood like?” He asked. 

“It was pretty nice when Jacob was around. Things kind of changed when he began looking for the Cursed Vaults. He was really obsessed with finding them. It didn’t really help that our parents didn’t believe him. My parents were really strict, you know? My mom doesn’t want me to use magic outside school. She says I have to be off age to legally use magic. She also doesn’t want to risk the chance of muggles seeing us do magic.” You told him.

  “Sounds like your mom is trying to follow the rules.” Barnaby said. 

You nodded. “My mom listens a lot to what Ministry says. The rules are made to keep you safe, that what she would say. My dad agrees, so Jacob and I would have to follow the rules. Once Jacob broke some rules they have become more protective I guess.” You told him and then you sighed. “Things haven’t been the same without Jacob around. My parents only have me to look after, so they tend to be even stricter with me. That doesn’t really work for me though.” You said with a shrug. 

“I see.” He said and then he thought for a moment. “What do you think what happened to your brother. There are a lot of rumours about that.” He said. 

“Too many rumours.” You said, shaking your head. “Really, I don’t know what happened, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have joined You Know Who’s side. He just couldn’t have. Even if he became mad, he wouldn’t have done such a thing.” You told him.

  “Look, I suppose people do see me as mad as my brother, but I can assure you I’m not that bad.” You told him with a grin. “I mean, I just an average student who happens to look for the Cursed Vaults. I just want to find my brother and I think the vaults could help me find him.” You told him honestly. 

“Well, whatever is in the vaults I hope you will be able to find your brother.” Barnaby said, slowly understanding your reasons to find the Cursed Vaults. 

“Thanks.” You said, smiling more. 

Barnaby seemed to be amazed by your smile. He was sure he was starting to like you even more. You were definitely cute, he was sure of that.

After the third year finished, Barnaby was sure he had fallen for you. He would catch himself staring at you sometimes and seeing you smile made him smile as well. The two of you became great friends and he thought that was making it even harder to like you more than a friend. He might be tough, but he wasn’t just going to tell you how much he liked you. No, he needed think this through for once. Besides you didn’t seem to notice how much he liked you. So, he decided he would try to find ways to show you how much he liked you during your fourth year.

  Some of your friends had noticed Barnaby staring at you and then grinned. 

“Hey Barnaby, may I ask you a question?” Penny asked. 

“Sure.” He said. 

“Why were you staring at Y/N?” She asked. 

“What? Me, staring at Y/N? I wasn’t staring.” He said, blushing slightly. 

“It is pretty easy to see you aren’t being honest now. We won’t tell her.” She told you with a smile. 

“It became kind of obvious you liked Y/N after you jumped in front of her when Ismelda tried to hex her behind Y/N’s back.” Rowan said. 

“Was it that obvious?” He asked. 

“I think only to us. Y/N doesn’t seem to notice it.” Rowan said honestly. 

“I think Y/N is focused on finding the next vault.” Ben said. 

“That might be easier if you just tell us who R is, Ben.” Rowan said. 

“I told you, I don’t know who R is.” Ben said, frowning a bit. 

“Didn’t Y/N tell us to trust Ben? If Y/N trust him I trust him. Besides, Ben is a nice guy.” Barnaby said. 

“Thanks Barnaby.” Ben said. “At least some people still trust me.” He said, frowning a little when he looked towards Rowan.

  “Guys, we weren’t even talking about this R.” Penny said, frowning a little. “We were talking about Barnaby’s crush on Y/N.” She said. 

“Sorry Penny…” Rowan muttered. 

“Yeah, sorry…” Ben said quickly. 

Penny smiled again. “Good. Now, what are you going to do? Are you going to tell Y/N you like her?” She asked. 

“I want to, but I’m not sure if I should.” Barnaby said. 

Penny blinked. “Why not?” She honestly was surprised. 

“Well, I kind of wanted to, but then we became really close friends… Does that make it all right to just tell her I like her more than a friend?” He asked. 

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask me that yourself?”

  Barnaby jumped when he saw you suddenly standing near the table. You blinked, confused by what you just heard. 

“Could we talk?” You asked Barnaby. “Alone?” You quickly added. 

He nodded and then he followed you out of the Great Hall. Once you were somewhere a little quieter you looked at him. 

“What were you just talking about...?” You asked him. 

“I’m pretty sure you already heard me.” He muttered. 

“Well, yeah, but I want to hear it from you.” You said honestly. 

“Fine…” He grumbled. 

“I like you, I like you more than just friends.” He said, blushing. 

“Since when?” You asked him. 

“Well, I think somewhere around the end of last year.” He said. “I kind of thought you were cute before, but it seemed like it turned into a crush when I knew you a lot better.” He said. 

“I didn’t know you had a crush on me.” You said honestly. 

“The others said I was obvious.” He said. 

“Oh gosh… I’m so sorry. I just have been so busy with the Cursed Vaults that I just don’t see those things. Rowan already told me about how oblivious I am when I’m busy with the Cursed Vaults.” You said, grinning awkwardly.

  “This might sound stupid, but I didn’t realize how cute you were until some guys told me how cute you are. I just began thinking about you and then I just couldn’t stop thinking about what they were saying. It all seemed to be true!” Barnaby said, blushing more when he told you about why he began thinking you were cute. 

You giggled. Barnaby sure was cute when he told you about this. “Are you sure you like me more than a friend?” You asked him. 

“Yes! I’m really sure about that! I fell for you when I got to know you. Really, I did not fall for you because I heard some people saying you were cute.” He said quickly. The poor boy was embarrassed. 

You grinned and then you tiptoed. You gave him a quick kiss on the lips. 

He was surprised when you did that, staring at you with wide eyes. 

“What? Just because I didn’t know you liked me doesn’t mean I don’t like you more than just friends.” You told him honestly.

  “Wait, what?” Barnaby said confused. 

“Well… You know you are on my mind quite often when I don’t think about the Cursed Vaults.” You said honestly. “I’m probably a little mad, but if you truly like me than you won’t mind that, ri-!” 

He cut you off by giving you a kiss. You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. Once you two pulled back you looked into each other’s eyes. 

“I don’t think you are mad.” He told you. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, and if someone tells you that I will personally punch that someone in the face.” He said seriously. 

“Really Barnaby, you shouldn’t do that.” You told him. 

“I know, but I would still do it if they hurt you.” He said. You chuckled and then you shook your head. 

“Let’s not worry about people calling me mad, shall we?” You said with a smile. You slowly let go of him, stepping away a little. You held out your hand, hoping he would hold it. He seemed to understand what you wanted and took your hand, squeezing it lightly.

  You never thought you would start dating Barnaby when you first met him, but this strange boy definitely captured your heart after a while. Perhaps you would have noticed his signs if you weren’t so busy with the Cursed Vaults. Then again, the way you have found out was pretty cute. He might have thought you were cute, but that didn’t mean you didn’t think he was cute. You wondered what kind of new experiences and challenges you will face now. Whatever would happen, you were ready for it.

[authormitchel-blog]

C.O.S Part 9

            Harry told Millicent, Ron, and Hermione about it the next morning. They had different reactions.

            “What a nark!” exclaimed Ron.

“Well, we always knew Hagrid was expelled for something, we just didn’t know what,” said Harry.

            “I mean, squealing on Hagrid like that. That Riddle character sounds a lot like Percy.”

“But that thing killed someone, Ron,” said Hermione.

            “What did you do?” Millicent asked Harry.

Harry sighed. “I wanted to tell him to keep his mouth shut.”

            “He was so young, and he seemed in genuine disbelief that whatever it was had hurt that girl.”

            “Maybe we should just go to Hagrid’s hut and ask him about it,” offered Hermione.

Ron balked. “That’d be a cheerful visit. Hello, Hagrid, set anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?”

            Ultimately, they decided to keep it between them. If anything Harry wanted to keep Hagrid’s name out of the fray. He knew now why Hagrid had been so vehement in his defense in Dumbledore’s office. He didn’t want Harry to get kicked out like he had been. Harry knew then that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to Hagrid.

            Let the whole world believe he was the heir of Slytherin as long as Hagrid wasn’t involved.

  &&&

            It was Huffelpuff verses Gryffindor, but Marcus still had his team gather together like it was their game day. It was only because Snape threatened Marcus and the others that they wouldn’t be able to go at all, that the team didn’t have to go in full uniform to “show force”, but Marcus did insist they sit together.

            Harry could hear Malfoy grumbling about it, even as he went back to the dorm to grab his scarf.

            Harry opened his trunk, but noticed that his cloak was on the wrong side of his trunk. Moving it, Harry checked further down where he had hidden the diary.

            It was missing.

Draco, it had to have been. Or Crabbe or Goyle, or could he really trust Nott either? Or any of his housemates? But why would they want it, no one could have known what it could do. Could they?

            Harry headed to the field, he needed to talk to Millicent.

He made it to the pitch just in time to see Professor McGonagall come half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

            Harry’s heart dropped like a stone.

“This match has been canceled,” Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. Over the boos and shouts Oliver Wood landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall without getting off his broomstick.

            Harry couldn’t hear what he said, but Professor McGonagall’s response was clear.

“All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further instructions. As quickly as you can, please.”

            Then she lowered the megaphone, and looked directly at Harry.

“Potter, I think you’d better come with me….”

            Wondering how on Earth she could possibly suspect him for whatever it was now, Harry let her lead him to the infirmary oddly, picking up Ron and Millicent as they went.

            “Hermione” Ron groaned.

Hermione lay utterly still on the bed, her eyes open and glassy. She had been petrified.

            “She was found near the library,” said Professor McGonagall. “I don’t suppose any of you would care to explain this? It was on the floor near her….”

            She was holding up a small, circular mirror.

They all shook their heads, eyes glued to Hermione. “I will escort you to your common rooms.”

  &&&

            If they were going to find out anything about Hermione then they needed to talk to Hagrid. Millicent and Harry fit well under the invisibility cloak and with a clear sky, they made it to Hagrid’s hut without any trouble. Ever since Mrs. Norris, Filch didn’t seem to have the joy in catching students that he once did.

Seconds after they had knocked on Hagrid’s door, it flung open. They found themselves face to face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind them.

“Oh,” he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. “What’re you two doing here?”

“What’s that for?” said Harry, pointing at the crossbow as Hagrid let them in.

“Nothin’….nothin’…” Hagrid muttered. “I’ve bin expectin’…..doesn’ matter….sit down….I’ll make tea…”

            He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He seemed frazzled and jumpy.

            “Are you okay, Hagrid?” said Harry. “Did you hear about Hermione?”

“Oh, I heard, all righ’,” said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice as he glanced nervously at the windows.

            Hagrid went to add some fruitcake to their plates when a loud knock at the door came and he dropped it to the floor.

            Harry and Millicent exchanged a panicked look as Harry threw the Cloak back over them and retreated to a corner farthest away from the door.

            Hagrid checked that they were hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.

            “Good evening, Hagrid.”

It was Dumbledore. He entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very odd-looking man.

            The stranger had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes, but Harry only noticed his lime green bowler hat.

            “That’s the Minister of Magic!” Millicent breathed so quietly Harry wasn’t sure she had actually spoken at all. “Cornelius Fudge.”

            “Bad business,” said Fudge in rather clipped tones. “Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things’ve gone far enough. Ministry’s got to act.”

            “I never,” said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore. “You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir…”

            “I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence,” said Dumbledore, frowning at Fudge.

            “Look, Albus,” said Fudge, uncomfortably. “Hagrid’s record’s against him. Ministry’s got to do something…the school governors have been in touch….”

            “Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest,” said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were full of a fire Harry had never seen before.

            “Look at it from my point of view,” said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. “I’m under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn’t Hagrid, he’ll be back and no more said. But I’ve got to take him. Got to. Wouldn’t be doing my duty….”

            Millicent had to dig her nails into Harry’s arms to make him stop when he heard. “Azkaban.”

            Then she purposefully let go when Lucius Malfoy strolled into Hagrid’s hut, swathed in a long, black traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.

            “Already here, Fudge,” he said approvingly. “Good, good…”

“What’re you doin’ here?” said Hagrid furiously. “Get outta my house!”

            “My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your…er….d’you call this a house?” said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. “I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here.”

            “Dreadful thing, Dumbledore,” said Malfoy lazily. “but the governors feel it’s time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension….you’ll find all twelve signatures on it. I’m afraid you’re losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? At this rate, they’ll be no more Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts and wouldn’t that be awful….”

            “Oh, now, see here, Lucius,” said Fudge, looking alarmed. “Dumbledore suspended, no, no, last thing we want just now….”

            “The board of governors….” Lucius started to defend.

“Yeah,” roared Hagrid. “And how many of them did you have to blackmail before they signed the thing, eh, Malfoy? Yeh can’ take Dumbledore. Take him and the Muggle-borns won’ stand a chance! There’ll be killings next!”

            “Calm yourself, Hagrid,” said Dumbledore sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy.

“If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside….”

            “But….” Stuttered Fudge.

“No!” growled Hagrid.

            Dumbledore had not taken his bright blue eyes off Lucius Malfoy’s cold gray eyes.

“However,” said Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word. “you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”

            For a second, Harry was almost sure Dumbledore looked straight at them before they all moved toward the door, but Hagrid stood his ground, took a deep breath, and said carefully, “If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they’d have to do would be ter follow the spiders. That’d lead ‘em right! That’s all I’m sayin’. An’ someone’ll need to feed Fang while I’m away.”

            The door banged shut and Harry pulled off the cloak.

Millicent stood and started to pace. “We’re in trouble now,” she said hoarsely. “No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There’ll be another attack within days.”

            “I didn’t think you cared that much about Dumbledore.”

“I don’t,” Millicent said, looking at the closed door. “but we need him.”

            Fang started howling and Harry felt it in his bones.

              Five people if you count Mrs. Norris and Nearly Headless Nick, had been petrified, and Harry had to follow the spiders? “What in Salazar’s name does that mean?” asked Millicent. “Hagrid’s insane,” she continued. “I knew it! That half blood of his, has got to be banshee. They’re all nuts.”

            Blaise laughed.

“If you think Hagrid’s anything but half giant or troll then you’ve lost it.”

            Millicent threw a pillow at him.

“Regardless, what kind of an idiot would willing go spider chasing in the Forbidden Forest?”

            Harry gave her a wide smile.

“Maybe just one idiot and one loyal, mean chess player….” Millicent was already shaking her head, no. “… and a truly incredible witch.”

            “Absolutely not,” she said. “No way,” she rose from her high back chair where they were sitting in the common room. “Absolutely not. There is no way, Potter, maybe Blai….

            “Nope,” popped Blaise.

Harry put his hands together. “Please, Millicent, I need you,” Millicent bit the inside of her lip, but grudgingly shook her head.

    With Harry’s invisibility cloak and Fang in tow, Millicent and Harry headed into the Forbidden Forest. Fang scampered about their feet, the only light the moon and the tip of their wands.

            “Over there!” Millicent shouted.

Harry shined his light toward the forest floor where a line of spiders were heading deeper into the forest. Harry paused, trying to see where the spiders were going, but everything outside of his little sphere of light was pitch black.

            Something wet touched Harry’s hand and he jumped back onto Millicent’s foot, but it was only an overzealous Fang. Harry looked to the low slung branches and thick wood, and could have sword he saw something moving.

            “Do you hear that?”

“Nope, not a thing,” replied Millicent, though she was looking in the direction Harry had just been. There was a strange rumbling noise then silence.

            “If I die in here, Potter, you’re going to think Myrtle is a good time.”

Then, to their right came a sudden blaze of light so bright they both had to shield their eyes. Fang yelled and tried to run, the coward, but was stopped by a tangle of thorns.

            “Mil!” Harry shouted the same time Millicent shouted, “Darn Weasleys!”

It was Mr. Weasley’s car.

            Harry thought it had been lost forever after he and Ron crashed it into the Womping Willow at the start of term. Harry blundered toward the light, Millicent and Fang following until they tipped out a moment later into a clearing.

            Mr. Weasley’s car was standing empty in the middle of a circle of thick trees under a roof of dense branches, it’s headlights ablaze.

            “It looks bewitched,” said Millicent even as the car slowly approached her like a frightened animal.

            “You think it’s been here all this time?”

The sides of the car were scratched and smeared with mud, having been roaming the forest for weeks. Fang didn’t seem to trust it, keeping close to Harry as they moved closer.

“We need to move,” Millicent said, even as her voice started to break.

Harry didn’t even have time to turn around. There was a loud clicking noise and suddenly something long and hairy seized him around his middle, and lift him from the ground, so that he was hanging upside down. With a rustle and a shout, he looked to see Millicent’s feet swept out from underneath her, too.

He didn’t know how long he was in the creature’s clutches before he was dropped to the grass, but he knew it felt like forever. Spiders. Massive spiders had carried Harry and Millicent to this clearing where spiders of all sizes were waiting, surrounding them.

Harry looked up realizing that the spider who had dropped him was saying something. “Aragog!” it called. “Aragog!”

            And from the middle of a misty, domed web, a spider the size of a small elephant emerged, very deliberately. Pincers milky white, eyes on each side of it’s ugly head looked blank. The spider was blind.

“What is it?” he said, clicking his pincers rapidly.

“Men,” clicked the spider who had caught Harry.

            “Is it Hagrid?” said Aragog, moving closer, his eight milky eyes wandering vaguely.

“Strangers,” answered the other spider.

            “Kill them,” clicked Aragog fretfully. “I was sleeping….”

“We’re friends of Hagrids,” Harry shouted. His heart beating out of his throat.

            Click. Click. Click, the spiders echoed all around them.

Aragog paused.

            “Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before,” he said slowly.   

“Hagrid’s in trouble,” said Millicent who was breathing very fast. “And we have come to seek the assistance of your highness.”

            “In trouble,” said the aged spider, and Harry thought he heard the concern behind the clicking pincers. “But why has he sent you?”

            Harry took a breath and spoke as calmly as he could.

“They think, up at the school, that Hagrid’s been setting a….something loose on the students. They’ve taken him to Azkaban.”

            Aragog clicked his pincers rapidly and all around the hollow the other spiders did the same.

            “But, that was years ago,” said Aragog. “They made him leave the school. They believed that I was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the Chamber and set me free.”

            “And you…you didn’t come from the Chamber of Secrets?” said Harry, who could feel cold sweat dripping on his forehead.

            “I!” said Aragog, clicking angrily. “I was not born in the caslte. I am from a distant land. A traveler gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg. Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for me, hid me in a cupboard in the castle, feed me from his table. Hagrid is my good friend and a good man. When I was discovered and blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me and I have lived in the forest doing the same for him ever since. He found me a wife, Mosag, and since we have grown.”

            “I have never harmed a human, out of respect for Hagrid. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which I grew up.”

            “Honored one,” Millicent offered. “Do you know what did kill that girl?”

Her words were followed by a loud outbreak of clicking and the rustling of many legs shifting angrily, large black shapes shifting all around them.

            “The thing that lives in the castle,” said Aragog. “is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others. Well do I remember how I pleaded with Hagrid to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the school.”

            “What is it?” said Harry urgently, regretfully.

More loud clicking and rustling, the spiders seemed to be closing in.

            “We do not speak of it!” said Aragog, fiercely. “We do not name it! I never even told Hagrid the name of that dread creature, though he asked me, many times.”

            Harry knew he was pressing his luck.

“We’ll….” He started before Millicent joined in. “Thank you, honored one, for the information. We are sorry that we entreated upon your territory.”

            “You have,” answered the spider who seemed to regard Millicent in a different way than he did Harry.

            “My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid on my command,”

Millicent interrupted.

            “And we are sure he is grateful, most honored, and we only came to inform about your good friend Hagrid’s state because we too, care for him.”

            Millicent was looking around like she could hear something that Harry couldn’t.

The spiders seemed to be approaching, each of them waiting for Aragog to give them the go ahead. Hagrid might be safe here, but Harry was under no illusion that he and Millicent were going to be.

            Even as Harry reached for his wand, Harry knew it was no goo, there were too many of them, but as he tried to stand, ready to die fighting, a loud, long note sounded, and a blaze of light flamed through the hollow.

            Mr. Weasley’s car was thundering down the slope, headlights glaring, its horn screeching, knocking spiders aside, several were thrown onto their backs, their endless legs waving in the air like a turtle who can’t get up.

            “Get Fang!” Harry yelled at Millicent, diving into the front seat. He felt Millicent and Fang fall into the car after him. The car zoomed backward, dodging and knocking spiders this way and that, but soon Harry, Millicent, Fang and the car were in the clear.

            The car threw them out when they were in the clear. Harry and his cloak the grass while Fang licked furiously at Millicent’s face.

            “Follow the spiders, he said. Follow the spiders, I’m going to kill Hagrid,” said Millicent. “Oh, get off me you mutt.”

            “I’m over here,” answered Harry, laughing, before he got up to help Millicent to her feet.

“You are so dead, Potter,” said Millicent, slapping his hand away and getting up on her own. “After,” she clarified. “we go and see about your new girlfriend.”

            Harry paused.

“You don’t think….Myrtle?” he asked.

            She shook her head, yes. “Myrtle.”