#Memir/Bele

[moriavis]

memir and bele 51

51. Kissing Each Finger

First of the night is d&d fic! Let's do this thing! No beta we die like Kauthiel!

~*~

Things had changed wildly in Bele's life over the course of the last few months-- starving, surviving on the whims of those around him. Every day was a desperate struggle to see the sunrise.

Now? Now his life was even more dangerous than it had been, even though the rewards were greater. They'd fought a dragon. A dragon. Admittedly, it had been stuck in place, but he wasn't going to downplay their accomplishments.

The sound of water drew his attention, and Bele twisted his wedding ring around his finger, torn by the urge to peek into Memir's emotions to gauge whether Memir would be comfortable with Bele buzzing around him, versus the knowledge that Memir would welcome him now regardless. Bele was pretty sure of that. Maybe.

On impulse, Bele rose to his feet and went into the adjoining bathing room, standing in the entrance for a moment as his heart tumbled in his chest. As always, Memir was beautiful, his gold skin gleaming from the heat and steam of his bath, and Bele's eyes stung with moisture at the sudden surge of affection and gratitude he felt.

"Come in," Memir grumbled, not bothering to open his eyes as he soaked in the hot water.

Bele smiled to himself and stepped in, sitting with his back against the tub and taking Memir's hand in his. He wasn't that skilled in medicine, but it looked like Memir had only suffered minor damage from excessive use of his bow. Malus was the one who had a harder time in their last battle.

"You killed a dragon," Bele whispered, cradling Memir's hand in his and pressing a soft kiss to each fingertip. "You're amazing."

Memir shook his head, his hair rippling the water. "We all worked together."

"Still," Bele said, staring down at Memir's hand and running his thumb over the calluses of Memir's palm. "You're the one that took him down. I'm never going to forget it."

"Hn." Memir turned in the bath, pulling his hand from Bele's. He pressed a kiss to the space behind Bele's ear. "Maybe you should give me a reward, if it was so unforgettable."

Bele laughed and stood, reaching into the water to heft Memir in his arms. "You ever get tired of being right?"

Memir's tail lashed once before wrapping securely around Bele's arm, and he laughed, the sound making his heart beat faster with anticipation. "Take me to bed, husband."

Bele, with an unusual flash of wisdom, did exactly that.

~*~

Kiss prompts!

[scheherezhad]

Bele/Memir - gothic horror AU

ilu

1. Okay, you know we have to start with an arranged marriage because I love that shit. So let's go with Azazel marrying off Memir to Tav, maybe somewhat abruptly, in an attempt to keep hold of his fading power among the aristocracy.

2. And of course Tav lives in an allegedly haunted house with strange architecture. Memir is unceremoniously shuffled off to this new life like coolcoolcool, I will spend all my days here in even worse anxiety than normal, great.

3. After the obligatory period of showing off their hot young trophy husband, Tav fucks off somewhere for dubious business reasons, summoning his cousin to come keep Memir company. This cousin, obviously, turns out to be Bele. Tav thinks obviously this person with familial ties and no apparent interest in sleeping with the many attractive people they've had around over the years won't fuck them over or fuck their husband. Ell oh ell.

4. Amidst a steadily increasing number of inexplicable occurrences, and after a bit of a rough start, Bele and Memir warm up to one another and grow close as they search for the source of the metaphysical activity.

5. You know they're gonna fall in love. Tav returns to find their husband romantically entangled with their cousin, attempts to kill them both, and gets got by whatever force has been lurking in the house, leaving Memir and Bele to have a happy ending somewhere without a creepy nonsense infestation. ✌️

Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.

[mintdivision]

tagged by @moriavis to do a thing!

three ships: memir/bele from our dnd game, frodo/samwise from lotr, and titania/bottom from midsummer night's dream

first ever ship: sirius/remus, which i will refrain from commenting on

last song: shine on harvest moon, leon redbone

last movie: in the theater, the batman. at home, sweet charity.

currently reading: the first four notes, by matthew guerrieri, about the cultural impact of the opening phrase of beethoven's fifth symphony

currently watching: i'm following the masked singer and a few youtube channels

currently consuming: water. i just had a croissant with butter.

currently craving: nothing, i'm pretty good right now.

tagging: nobody, but please answer these questions i like reading answers

[moriavis]

plz may i have more of Bele being possessive over Memir? ilu

Ha, I have come forth with a tiny fill for you! <3

~*~

The wedding rings were the best idea Bele had ever had. If he ever saw the Udrusian metal-smith who had convinced him to increase the enchantment, he was going in for a hug, etiquette be damned. He'd never been so confident and reassured in anything as he was in his relationship with Memir.

Considering how hard it had been for the two of them to get this far, they'd earned a little peace and quiet.

On the other hand, if the baker didn't stop making eyes at his husband in the next five seconds, Bele was going to make himself a problem.

Bele followed Memir toward the selection of available pastries, narrowing his eyes at the lady selling candles in the next stall and the blatant once over she gave Memir. He exhaled a hard breath, tension gathering in his shoulders as he fought the impending tip over into summer.

Memir took Bele's hand and leaned against his shoulder. Bele's annoyance vanished like it had never existed. "Do you think Malus would like this?"

Bele leaned closer, catching the scent of warm spices and a hint of sweetness rising from the bread. "Yeah, I think he would. It smells similar to something Pan made in that magic tower of hers."

"I thought so." Memir looked at the baker, who flushed beneath his tan. Bele pointedly raised Memir's hand, kissing his knuckles and showing off the wedding band, and the guy finally got his head out of his ass long enough to sell them the bread Memir wanted.

Once the bread was purchased, Memir turned toward Bele with a fond look, before he shoved the bread into Bele's arms and muttered, "Knock it off."

Bele pouted on principle, but he nodded obediently before he allowed Memir to tug him toward the next interesting stall.

~^~

[scheherezhad]

Memir/Bele - sleeping in cause they so rarely get the chance to

❤️

.

Memir woke, slow and pleasant, unusually comfortable in the cocoon of his and Bele's curtained bed in Pan's tower. Taking in the calm atmosphere of the room beyond his closed eyelids, he wondered if he might be able to fall back asleep for just a while, but a slight shift beside him coaxed him to open his eyes.

"Morning," Bele said quietly.

"Morning," Memir echoed, warmth sweeping through him at the tender smile on his husband's face. He reached for Bele's hand that lay in the space between them. "Feels late. You should've woken me up."

Bele squeezed his fingers, thumb tracing along Memir's wedding ring. "Didn't want to disturb you. I've never seen you so peaceful."

A faint flush of shyness warmed Memir's face, and Bele brought his hand up to trace the bronzed curve of Memir's cheek; capturing Bele's hand once more, Memir kissed his fingertips in return. The happiness that flowed through Bele at that simple gesture burrowed into Memir's chest, settling alongside the soft, sleepy haze that lingered from a good night's rest.

They lay there for several long moments, just studying one another in the rare and precious privacy of their room. Their breathing fell into sync, and for once, Memir didn't feel the instinctive need to hide his vulnerable parts. His whole being was safe in Bele's hands.

Eventually, the stillness fell away to the sounds of scuffling from the hounds, and the rumble of Memir's empty stomach, but as they finally rose to get ready for the day, the peacefulness remained.

[scheherezhad]

For the AU game! Give me some info about the Memir/Bele Royal Wedding AU. <3

oooh, we love a royalty au even when we hate the concept of monarchy irl. (also, if you meant further adventures in the setting of i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet), tell me, i'll do another <3)

So I'm thinking maybe this Bele was brought back to the Feywild after his parents died and was raised as a ward of one of the fey courts. And maybe Azazel was never cast down, so Memir and his siblings were all raised in the Hells as heirs of a respected archdevil.

For *handwave* ~reasons, certain parts of the Hells and the Feywild seek a political alliance, and a meeting is arranged between the heirs of both to find a suitable pair to marry off.

The fey heirs do not get along with most of Azazel's children, who in turn are quite uninterested in these weak prospects. But oh, what's this? The ward has been in the company of the runt Azazel reluctantly dragged along and kept in the background!

While all the official candidates have been doing their best to discourage each other's interest, Bele and Memir have quietly been doing what all the others were supposed to do: going on outings and taking meals together and becoming friends. Malus realizes he has fallen down on the job of protecting his little brother and interrogates Bele about his intentions.

After some frantic spin doctoring, the court and Azazel agree to pretend this was all part of the plan, and Bele and Memir are thrown into a political marriage that's actually a love match with a shiny propaganda dust jacket. Eventually they are no longer needed as figureheads of the alliance, and they live happily ever after ❤️

Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.

[scheherezhad]

Memir/Bele - I need you now kisses

oh, did today's d&d session just happen to give me the ammunition to finish this prompt request that has been in my inbox for ages? yes, yes it did.

.

Bele flung himself onto the bed face-down and let out a heartfelt groan. "It's terrible. I didn't think it would be this terrible. Did you-- You knew it would be terrible, didn't you?" He threw Memir an accusing look over his shoulder. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't know, I just… suspected," Memir said mildly, sitting down to take his boots off. "Pan could've had a secret talent for interior design."

"She obviously doesn't," Bele grumbled.

Finished with his own boots, Memir switched to removing Bele's. He had to dodge a half-hearted kick as Bele huffed about the wildly clashing design of their room in Panacorin's new magic tower. It was hardly her fault that Bele had indiscriminately asked for such varied and extravagant features, but it probably could have been executed a bit less chaotically. Probably.

Memir stood to place their boots by the armor they'd already shed, before letting his eyes drift over the room again. It was colorful, to say the least. It was also an interesting look into his husband's head, seeing the things he found desirable after a lifetime of wanting. Patterned wallpaper and plush furniture and ornate details on everything, each individual piece a display of luxury, but all together an overwhelming jumble.

"Look at the bright side," Memir said, returning to the bed and climbing up to kneel on the mattress. He plucked at the curtain tie on the nearest bedpost, letting the heavy velvet curtain swish into place and shroud them from the brightly colored room. "Now you have a better idea of what you actually want, and Pan can make it better next time."

"Yeah, yeah. Be practical about it," Bele said, reaching out to capture the end of Memir's tail for a gentle tug.

Memir tugged at the next curtain tie as his skin prickled with a pleasant shiver at Bele's touch. "Well, if I'm being practical, we should test whether the bed is well made," he said.

"Mm. I'd hate for you not to get a good night's sleep." Bele rolled onto his side, hand leaving Memir's tail to catch his elbow and draw him in closer.

Memir went happily, leaning in and brushing his lips over Bele's. They'd barely been alone since leaving the prime material plane, and what little time they had been able to share had been overshadowed by trouble. He needed this, the grounding that came with physical connection. It didn't even have to be more than this right now, just lying together in their outrageously comfortable bed, no shifts on watch to eat away their time, attention only on each other.

Well. It would be nice if it was more. He didn't feel the same desperation he had so often in the past, when it had seemed he had nothing to offer but sex to secure his place with Bele, but in this quiet, private space, he wanted in a way that suffused his entire being with a low burn.

Bele gradually eased them over until Memir was on his back, and he settled between Memir's thighs, mouth trailing along Memir's jaw to his neck. Letting his mind open to Bele's emotions filled Memir with a resonating echo of his own desire, an addictive feedback loop that had him urging Bele's mouth back to his own for a long, deep kiss.

"Need you," Memir rasped when they broke apart. He rocked his hips up into Bele's, gratified by the groan it drew out of his husband and the answering press back.

"You have me," Bele said, "always."

Memir spared a moment to be thankful no one else was on their floor of the tower, because they were in for a long night.

[moriavis]

For kiss prompts:

Memir/Bele, "I need you now" kisses

Mick/Len, "maybe in another life" kisses

❤️💋

Here you go, bb! Memir/Bele kisses ahoy! (none of this is beta'ed, btw)

~*~

Bele's heart was thrumming in his chest like it wanted to escape out of his throat. Despite the rush of adrenaline and anxiety, he'd thought he'd been holding himself together pretty well… at least until Pan— Pan— pulled him aside and asked if he was okay, her eyes straight ahead and fixed on the dagger on his hip.

"I'm fine," Bele said, embarrassed and oddly touched; his feelings had to be written all over his face if Panacorin was trying to comfort him. He looked toward Memir, searching for him on instinct even though he knew for a fact that Memir hadn't quite yet moved from the table where they'd been having their meals. 

Quarie caught his attention first, less because of his Fey beauty, the curtain of his shining dark hair and the net of sapphires woven between the strands, and more because he was reaching out and brushing a strand of Memir's hair away from Memir's jaw.

The season of his soul turned into burning summer, and he stalked toward the table, reaching out for Memir's hand and squeezing. Memir turned his attention to Bele immediately, his cheeks flushing into a dusky bronze— it made Bele catch his breath, how beautiful Memir was, even as satisfaction burned through him with the way Memir had immediately ignored their host.

"Borrowing my husband," Bele said bluntly, and Memir rose from his seat without a pause, his tail quivering slightly before it curled around his leg. A distant part of Bele was disappointed that Memir was tucking his tail away, but the rest of him didn't care as he turned on his heel and dragged Memir to the quarters they'd so generously been offered.

The door was barely shut before Bele hefted Memir into his arms, clenching his fingers into a fist at the small of Memir's back and clutching at the loose fabric he found there like a lifeline. Memir was already leaning in to kiss him when Bele raised his face, and Bele lost track of time as he pressed Memir against the door and ravaged his husband's mouth. 

There was only the fierce press of Memir's lips, the heat of his tongue. Memir dug his fingers into Bele's braids, legs tight around Bele's waist, his tail curling around one of Bele's arms. They chased each other's breath, and Bele nipped Memir's bottom lip, tearing his attention from Memir's mouth to bite a trail of marks that flushed bronze, so pretty that Bele had to start over again and suck Memir's skin to a delicious copper tone, Memir's pulse fluttering wildly against the suction of Bele's mouth.

"Jealous?" Memir managed to push the word out as if he were surprised, and knowing that Memir had used their rings to peek into Bele's feelings twisted him in a strange way, relief and love combating with his possessive hunger.

He managed to nod, catching at the skin just above Memir's collarbone. "Didn't like the way he looked at you. You're mine. Gonna make sure he knows, make you scream."

Memir laughed at that. "You always do," he murmured,  and he used Bele's braids like reins, guiding him toward their bed.

There was an inkling, a tease of an idea, that maybe Memir had let Quarie flirt with him on purpose, but Bele was okay with that. He loved giving Memir exactly what he wanted.

~*~

Next, we have Mick/Len in another life kisses, woooo!

~*~

Mick was going to die, which was a weird thought that bounced around in his head. He'd been alive for centuries with the Time Pigs, so thinking about death now was almost a relief. He'd go out stopping Haircut from filling out this last ditch attempt to keep the time stream leashed— not a bad way to go at all.

Only thing he had left to do was make Leonard leave with the rest of them. 

Problem was, Leonard was still standing there, with that thoughtful, calculating look that always used to drive Mick crazy.

"Pretty boy said I gotta hold this stick for the ship to blow," Mick said, shouting over the noise of the battle around them. "So I'm holding this stick. Now leave!"

Something in Leonard's eyes softened, and he raised his hand, curling it around the nape of Mick's neck. "My old friend, please forgive me."

Mick frowned, torn between keeping his attention on the self-destruct mechanism and desperately wanting to have just one more look at Leonard. "For what?"

Leonard turned Mick's face toward him and leaned in  to kiss Mick so gently, so sweetly that Mick knew without a doubt that he had to be hallucinating. 

This was supposed to be the one secret Leonard pretended to let him keep.

Leonard pulled away, searching Mick's face with his eyes, and he pulled Mick in, pressing Mick's face against the fur of his collar. Mick's eyes stung, and he hid in the softness of Leonard's jacket, taking a breath of Leonard's sandalwood scent. Just one second. Just one more, and he'd make Leonard leave.

The cold gun cracked against the back of Mick's head, and everything went black.

~*~

[moriavis]

B

I had to dig back in my archive for this one!

A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind.

The only one this comes to mind is Bele. I know what everyone must be thinking--ugh, more D&D content? But it's true.

When I'm involved in a media fandom, I usually latch on to my OTP pretty fast, so the presence of other pairings is negligible for me. I'm very much live-and-let-live.

BELE, however, was meant to be a character I brought in for one session, to prove why Memir (@scheherezhad) was in a party with Yevelda and Givo (@saekhwa and @mintdivision) He was meant to be obnoxious and then die. Instead, @scheherezhad texted me after the session and said 'I think that's his ex-boyfriend.'

Now Bele and Memir are basically co-leaders of a much larger group.

I STILL DON'T KNOW HOW THAT HAPPENED.

Why do my characters become the leaders even when they're NPCs??? Inquiring minds want to know!

[scheherezhad]

au prompt: in which memir is a pineapple and bele is a papaya

[censored]

[redacted]

[filth]

[obscenity]

juice

Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.

[scheherezhad]

Sketch commission of Memir and Bele by the wonderful @lykoiiii

I adore this piece. Look how happy and in love my boys are!

[scheherezhad]

@saekhwa i'm sorry idk what happened, this prompt was supposed to be sweet and a lil sexy but it came out as depression hours 😭

Massages

When Memir woke alone, he could already feel that something was off. It wasn't all that unusual for Bele to be out of bed before him, of course, but usually when he was, he was still in the room or Memir could hear him moving around somewhere. Today, he didn't hear anything but the animals and the occasional noise that any house made.

A tiny spark of panic flared in his chest. He breathed deep and counted out a long exhale, assuring himself there was no reason to panic before he'd even gotten out of bed. A second breath, a third, and he felt calmer. He reached out through his ring and felt the drag of deep apathy sink into him, and he closed his eyes for a moment. Bele succumbed to the curse of his dark gift sometimes, and he couldn't pull himself out of it alone.

Rising to dress for his morning chores, Memir let the thoughts percolate as he went through his routine. Food for Zaafani first, then make sure the hounds had fed. Breakfast for the goats and chickens, and a fresh layer of bedding while they ate. Collect the eggs, go back up to the house to clean up and make breakfast. If Bele didn't come to eat, Memir would go find him and start working through his list of tricks to draw Bele back to him.

After washing up and cooking, there was still no sign of Bele. Memir put their breakfast on a tray and covered it to keep warm while he went to look for his husband.

Memir searched the house methodically, knowing the apathy could have struck him anywhere. Ground floor was clear, so he went upstairs, where he found Zaafani tucked against the door to Bele's studio. In its past life, it might have been a nursery with its two large bay windows that let in plenty of light, but in their life, it was perfect as Bele's painting spot.

"Clever thing, I should have asked you for help first, hm?" Memir told the cat, scritching under his chin. "Thank you for watching out for him."

Zaafani purred loudly under Memir's attention and stood to accompany him when he opened the door.

The studio was dark, heavy curtains drawn over the windows and the lamps unlit. Bele lay on the green velvet sofa at the back of the room, rumpled dressing gown wrapped over his pajamas, hair unbrushed, eyes fixed on an innocuous spot on the floor.

"Good morning," Memir said softly. "I've made breakfast."

Bele made no response.

"Would you like to come down to eat, or shall I bring it up to you?"

Still nothing.

Memir swallowed the hurt. This wasn't about him. "I'll bring it up, then."

As Memir turned to go back downstairs, Zaafani planted himself directly in Bele's line of sight, tip of his tail flicking just a bit. Memir gathered the breakfast tray and added a pitcher of water with two cups, bringing it to the side table by the sofa and pouring each of them a cup of water. The food was simple and bland, nothing jarring to the senses during an episode like this. Porridge, buttered bread, a bit of mild cheese, an apple cut into slices. Bele's eyes were closed now.

"Is this all right? I can make something else if you'd like," Memir offered quietly, taking a seat on the floor by Zaafani. When he received no response to this either, Memir began eating his own meal slowly. He could tell the food was fine, but it was pure willpower to chew each bite and actually swallow it without gagging. Halfway through, he gave up.

Zaafani batted the rest of Memir's cheese off of the plate and ate it, then did the same to his bread. They'd have to remember to clean that bit of the rug later.

"Will you eat something?" Memir asked, voice grown thick. "Or just a drink of water?"

Bele opened his eyes a bit, not quite meeting Memir's gaze. He looked for a second like he was gathering the energy to move, but he lost it just as quickly, sagging into the cushions.

Memir nodded and rose to his knees to put the cover back over the tray. "Later, then. It can wait."

He would wait it out as long as it took, as long as Bele surfaced again. For now, he scooted up to the side of the sofa and let his head rest on the edge of the cushion by Bele's hip to sit facing him. He reached up to take Bele's left hand in his own, just a point of connection, a reassurance that he was there. He held his breath for a moment, but Bele did not pull away. Memir's grip tightened a fraction in relief.

After a few minutes, Bele squeezed back, ever so slightly.

Memir's mouth quivered, and a hint of moisture leaked from his left eye. He turned his head to press a soft kiss over Bele's wedding band. He could wait it out.

.

Memir wasn't sure how much time had passed when Bele finally stirred. The curtains had kept out the daylight, but he'd been still long enough that his legs had become a little numb, and Zaafani had grown restless and left the room at some point. Perhaps Memir had even dozed off a bit, because he was certain he would have noticed when Bele had drawn his hand away and begun lightly stroking Memir's hair.

"Hi," Bele whispered, thumb massaging a spot just behind Memir's ear.

"Hi," Memir echoed, throat tight. "How are you feeling?"

A long pause, a slow reply. "Empty. Exhausted. Thirsty."

Memir nodded and reached for his own cup so he didn't have to move to reach the side table. There were a couple of cat hairs floating on the surface of the water--Zaafani must have drunk from it. He handed it to Bele anyway.

Bele painstakingly pushed himself upright so he could take a drink and ended up draining the cup. "Thank you."

"Would you like more?" Memir asked.

"Not yet."

"All right." Memir rested his head on Bele's knee and dug the nails of his right hand into his own palm where it was out of sight near the floor. The curse wouldn't have his husband yet. Someday he would find a way to get a Wish so they'd never have to worry about it again.

[scheherezhad]

First sentence: Say the word. I'll pretend I saw nothing.

still thinking about the last few first sentence prompts that have been sitting in my inbox...

.

"Say the word, I'll pretend I saw nothing."

Memir nods, sheet clutched to his chest, and manages a rough, "Thank you, Mal."

Malus closes the door quietly, leaving Memir awkwardly shielding Bele in his bed. Memir knew it was risky fooling around at home in the middle of the afternoon, but he'd done it anyway, and they're lucky that it's Malus who caught them.

"Should I go?" Bele asks softly, rubbing circles on Memir's back. "I don't want your dad to freak out. I know he doesn't like me."

"No? Unless you want to? Malus really won't say anything."

Bele leans in to kiss his cheek. "I'll always stay if you want me to. But maybe we should just watch a movie or something."

"Yeah," Memir agrees quietly, reaching for his shirt.

They get dressed and curl up together with some romance series Bele pulls up. In the closest thing he ever feels to safety, Memir thinks about the little bit of cash he's stashed away, about the few months left before they graduate, about how far they'll have to run before they can start over together outside of Father's reach.

[scheherezhad]

made an offhand remark to moriavis about our dumb, married d&d characters playing strip poker, and suddenly i was writing fic about it. such is life when your blorbo is thirsty af for his own husband ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[scheherezhad]

Limited palette commission by the lovely @annelaurant

Absolutely charmed by how this piece turned out. My sweet boys! 😍

[scheherezhad]

this one's for @mintdivision

Saffron

"And honestly, it's not even that important of an event, it's just that it's a tradition between our courts," Bele was saying, sprawled over the sofa with his head resting on Memir's thigh.

Memir hummed in acknowledgment and held another fabric swatch against the open collar of Bele's shirt, wrinkling his nose before putting the swatch on a pile to his right.

"I told you I can't wear orange."

The next swatch was raw silk in a rich golden shade, and Memir tapped Bele's sternum with a neatly manicured finger. "You can wear gold, though."

As he placed the silk swatch on the pile in front of him, a small fey seated in a chair across from them nervously cleared their throat. "It's to your liking, sirs?"

"Quite," Memir said with a small smile. "The saffron silk for my husband's waistcoat, and the burgundy velvet for the jacket. The dove grey satin and cobalt wool for my own. White handkerchief linen for the shirts, and the black wool for the trousers."

"Very good, Your Highness," they said, collecting the swatches and flitting from the room.

Bele squeezed Memir's hand. "Not going to dazzle them in some scandalous gauze robe this time?" he asked playfully.

Memir's smile grew to show a hint of teeth. "That's for after dinner."

.

author's notes: do i have any idea what the context of this fey political dynamic is? absolutely not! do i enjoy playing in the Fate 'verse so i can treat my boys like dress-up dolls? absolutely yes!