#some swedish snuck in

[chiropteracupola]

recently I've read a very meaty and murdery novel, and, since I haven't stopped thinking about it, now I've made a playlist about it.

[listen here]

[skamenglishsubs]

Hey! Young Royals question: I'm British, and I find some of the 'Normal People' things things that Wille can get away with without immediately attracting a media circus completely wild. I can NOT imagine a teenage Prince Harry would have been able to get on a public bus or go to a municipal football field in a rough area without a flock of press photographers descending on him. Even after Wille becomes Crown Prince, his freedom of movement seems enormous compared to what Prince William would have had.

Could you explain why Wille is able to live without microscopic scrutiny please? Is the Swedish press just less insane than the British press? Are Swedish people less sensationalist than British people? Or is it just to make the narrative easier to progress? Thank you.

Yes, they're less insane. There are no paparazzi stalking them 24/7. The current crown princess and her siblings were allowed more freedom, they went to normal schools and the press backed off.

Hillerska is presumably in a remote location, and press have presumably been told to fuck off from there, to give all the students their privacy.

And Wilhelm snuck out, remember? No-one knows or expected him to be on that bus, so of course there aren't tons of people waiting around for it to happen.

[granhairdo]

5, 18, 27, 33, 74 for the ask game?

5. tell us some funny drunk stories.

oh god do i have many! my weird quirk is thinking its a lovely idea to message people when im drunk. im sure several of my mutuals and irl friends have gotten random drunk messages from me.

my favorite story must go to when i was about 16 or 17 in a foster home. for some reason, my foster mom thought it was a nice idea to have an unlocked liquor cabinet just there, even after knowing i formally had some minor alcohol issues. so one night i snuck some whiskey and one shot turned to two and so on. i ended up ordering a lifesize cardboard cutout of pat sajak from wheel of fortune. already funny, but apparently i never got around to changing the shipping address from the apartment my family moved out of like 2 years ago and is rented by someone else now. well i forget about the order and some poor guy got lifesized pat sajak just show up to his house. scrolling on facebook a month or so later and this guy i didnt know posted something like "what in the world just showed up to my house" with a picture of a lifesized pat sajak cutout. congrats sir.

18. can you drive?

i sure can! i actually didn't get my license until i was 20 tho.

27. what was the last book/movie that really impressed you?

this depends. are we talking rewatches/rereads or are those disqualified.

if rewatches count i obviously have to say out 1 (1971). i rewatched it with a friend and i just... god... every time. idk that film just scratches an itch deep in my soul.

and if we're only counting things ive seen recently, ive got to give it to person (1966). this film went far above my expectations. whole time i was just immersed in it. its not something i would have expected to enjoy so much but the tone and vibe of the film was just perfect.

33. something you're good at?

oh god idk. i guess poetry is kind of my thing. its been an outlet for me since i was really young and i kind of expanded on that into adulthood. a lot of people are surprised i enjoy such a hobby as i am actually dyslexic and neurodivergent in other forms as well. however its a very strong passion of mine. ive been certified in poetry therapy for i believe 6 years now. i don't do it as much as i used to but ive taught one on one and group classes for disabled. neurodivergent, and otherwise struggling kids to learn how to express themselves through poetry. as you can see, im very proud of it.

74. favorite candy?

i love fruity gummy stuff. swedish fish are my BELOVED>

[petrichor-idyllic]

So, y'all seemed to like my last TMR OC/idea prompt list thing, so I thought I'd do another one.

But actually focus on OC ideas this time.

Okay, so here are some cool OC ideas because there's actually a lot you can do with this universe, but everyone does the same shit.

And I am here to provide:

A transfer character. Can be used for either the books or the movies, but an OC that starts off in one Maze and then gets moved to another with no warning could be an interesting concept. WICKED has made giant simulation Mazes, monsters, flesh eating floating metal balls and teleportation windows- I don't think it's that far-fetched that they could scoop a kid from one Maze and throw them in another.

So, Thomas and Teresa obviously built the Maze, so prodigy characters are a staple of the series. I think an OC that has a lot of knowledge about anatomy and biology, who could work as a Med-jack or a Slicer, who actually designed and made the Grievers, and obviously doesn't remember it, could be a interesting concept.

More male OCs pls. I love seeing these ladies, don't get me wrong because it makes things more interesting. But I think fanfiction can just be for fun and I love seeing some casual normal guy OCs kicking it around the Glade. (Saying this as someone who has male and female characters for this universe.)

I'd also love to see a trans character.

An OC that snuck into the Maze could also be fun. I feel like I need to explain this one more. Picture this: your character is like Teresa and Thomas and has enough of watching their friends be tortured and killed, so they set themself up to go into the Maze early. So they rock up early, like in the middle of two Greenie days and it freaks everyone out. (This could also be an easy way to make it make more sense for fem! OCs to end up in the Glade.)

OC with a cyborg limp of some kind. WICKED could make it happen, don't tell me they wouldn't.

Also, lemme give some names 'cause there was a phase a while back where OCs had the most random names and people completely ignored the fact that all the characters in the Mazes are named after famous people.

(I have used some of these names for my own characters, but I will not be revealing the name of my main OC because she is too precious to me and I am protective over her name. I may one day post about her if people are interested.)

MASCULINE

Otto - Otto Hahn: A German nuclear chemist who is often referred to as the father of nuclear chemistry and nuclear fission.

Leo - Leonardo da Vinci: This one is obvious but just in case you don't know; a famous polymath of the High Renaissance who had several talents, including painting, engineering, science and sculpting.

Dalton - John Dalton: An English chemist, physicist and meteorologist. He introduced the atomic theory into chemistry and researched into colour blindness (also known as Daltonism in many languages).

Al/Alan - Alan Turing: Cryptanalyst famous for his work during the Second World War.

Micky- Michael Faraday: A philosopher who contributed to the study of electromagnetism and electrochemistry.

GENDER-NEUTRAL

Clerk - James Clerk Maxwell: Scottish mathematician responsible for the theory of electromagnetic radiation.

Coper - Nicolaus Copernicus: A Renaissance polymath who formulated the model of the universe with the Sun in the middle.

Andy - Anders Celsius: A Swedish astronomer who invented the Celsius temperature scale.

Mo - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Famous composer.

Hol - Andy Warhol: Famous artist.

FEMININE

Mea/Marie - Marie Salomea Curie: A pioneer of radioactivity.

Barb - Barbara McClintock: A famous cytogeneticist.

Emmy - Emmeline Pankhurst: A suffragette and women's rights activist.

Octavia - Octavia Hill: An artist and radical who pioneered affordable housing and can be considered the founder of the modern social network.

Lia - Amelia Earhart: The first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean.

Yeah, okay, there ya go, hope some of y'all find this useful, or maybe even interesting lmao.

[vikingost]

The Battle of Bramble and Harebells.

The start of my Bramble:the mountain king inspired series with the hetalia nordics!

Chapter one:Thorny beginnings

Björn awoke from his slumber with a jolt,sitting up in his bed.His heart was pounding in his chest from the nightmare he had moments before as a result of the bedtime story his mother had read him and his sister in the evening.Rubbing his eyes,he cautiously shifted to the side and placed his feet on the cold wooden floors of his family’s cabin.As he slowly stood up,he began stepping over to his sisters bed on the other side of their shared,cramped room,as Björn seeked his sister Mette’s comfort.After a few steps,the unease in his cyan eyes turned to confusion.Mette was nowhere to be seen,with the carefully embroided bedsheets laying messily on her bed.After lighting a candle (despite his mothers warnings not to play with fire) and holding it for some light,Björn began looking around the room.Despite not being necessary to find his sister,as there was practically no hiding spots in the room,the act still brought Björn some comfort.He played a small bit with his tin soliders and he looked at the wall where his mother measured his and his sisters heights (Alma teased him far to much about her being taller than him,despite Björn being 3 years younger at the psysical age of 8,and his sister being 11.Though,it felt as if he had lived longer.A lot longer).As he walked around the room,he found the old storybook their mother had read to them earlier,and he grabbed and opened it,revealing the detailed pictures and the small,swedish text.

``There once was a girl who snuck out of her bedroom window at night,even though her mother had told her not to.

She went into the forest and at first it welcomed her with warmth and a promise of adventure.

But soon the forest seemed to grow colder and darker.

The girl was afraid and she wanted to go home,but bramble crawled around her arms and legs,and she could not get away.

À̵͍̹̰͑̈́n̶̲̬̖͋ḑ̶̹̃ ̸̧̚ṯ̵̬͇̄h̵̡̥̤͂̄e̴̥͎̪̒͛͒ ̶̼͌̀g̷̣͍̲͌̀i̶̗̹͗̀͠r̷͖̗̹͌ḽ̶̓ ̴̢̘̟̎w̷̯̰̏̕a̵̻̳̓s̶̬͕̙̀ ̶̦̎̒̍ņ̸̫̺̅͗è̵̗v̶̦͖̳̆ë̴̹̭͊r̷̫̣̃͌ ̸̫̓ṡ̴̟̜͚̓͗e̸̩̘̱͒͂͠ę̶̫͌͆͌n̴̛͇͈̊͒ ̷̱̹̊a̵̘̟̹̅̑̾g̸̡̢̕a̷͚͎̔ị̵̡̮͘n̶̦͍̺̚ ``

”And Thats What happens when you dont listen to your mother,especially you Mette.” His mothers words rang in the boy’s ears,and while the warning aimed at his sister had been little more than a joke cause of her recklessness,it had brought up a frightening answer to where his sister had gone.His suspicions were further proved when he felt a cold breeze come from the window.The window in question stood wide open,with Mette’s bedsheets tied together into a makeshift rope and used so that someone would be able to climb out.Had his sister not listened to their mother? Evidently not. Walking towards the window,he put his head out and looked around.The darkness scared him.But not being with his sister scared him more.He quickly exchanged his soft pajamas for a simple shirt and trousers (pants) and his long,navy-blue coat together with some simple shoes to better suit the cold,swedish spring night.

Placing the candle on the window sill,Björn’s cold hands gripped the makeshift rope and slid down,hissing a bit from the painful sensation of slight ropeburn and the sudden chill of the air outside.As Björn began to walk away from their home,out to search for his dear sister Mette,the candle finally got extinguished by a gust of air as he ventured further into the forest,unknowing of the horrors to come.

That was the first chapter,this one was just meant to introduce Björn and Mette and start Björns journey! Do remember that english is not my first language,so spelling errors will probably exist.Tysm for reading and Ill have the second chapter out soon! :) -VikingOst

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.

Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday.

On Mars, sunsets are blue.

Nothing holds you back more than your own insecurities.

The letters ‘ough’ can be pronounced ten different ways.

The national bird of Peru is the Andean Cock Of The Rock.

93% of students do their research online rather than in a library.

The County of Los Angeles has a bigger population than 40 US States.

Studies have found that being a ‘bad boy’ is no longer perceived as ‘cool.’

Spiny lava lizards are less choosy about who they have sex with when it’s hot.

If you don't dream, you most likely have some sort of personality disorder.

If caught in a burning building, get low. The breathable air will be near the floor.

Women speak an average of about 7,000 words a day. Men average just over 2,000.

Lava lamps were invented by an accountant whose hobby was making underwater nudist films.

Shy people usually end up being some of the coolest people you know … once you start talking to them!

We tend to prefer the original version of a song because we heard it first, not necessarily because it's better.

In the Polish town of Suoszowa, all 6000 residents live on the same street that stretches some 9km (5.5 miles).

The Bloody Mary has been scientifically proven to be the best alcoholic drink to enjoy on an aeroplane.

If 99% of the human population thought you were ugly, about 80,000,000 people would still find you attractive.

Lypophrenia: A vague feeling of sadness seemingly without cause. This often occurs when a person misses someone.

The U.S. Army uses 1.5 billion rounds of ammunition a year. ‘Call Of Duty’ players use 1.5 billion rounds every 17 hours.

The Talmud suggests testing blockages in a penis by heating the afflicted’s anus with some warm barley bread. (Eh?)

Male bed bugs don't bother with vaginas when mating. They simply stab the female in the abdomen with their penis and ejaculate in her body.

A video game developer snuck a proposal into a game, but his girlfriend refused to play it for years, delaying their eventual marriage.

Town planners in Porters Lake, Nova Scotia seem to have run out of ideas. There are streets named This Street, That Street and The Other Street.

About one third of Australian polling stations have barbecues outside them. It is so common to buy a sausage when you go to vote that they are called Democracy Sausages.

Corn kernels are coated with cellulose that's tough enough to withstand the rigors of the human digestive system, which is why they come out almost the same way they went in!

Child marriage is currently legal in 43 U.S. states. The only states with a minimum age of 18 - with no exceptions - are Delaware, Massachusetts, Minnesota, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania and Rhode Island

In 2004, a £140,000 diamond was placed in the front of a Jaguar F1 car for the Monaco Grand Prix as a promotional stunt for Ocean’s Twelve. The driver crashed on the first lap and the diamond has never been recovered.

The ‘fountain of tits’ in Treviso, Italy, is a 16th-century marble fountain of a topless woman squeezing her breasts. The statue sprinkles water from each nipple. During celebrations, the fountain spouts red and white wine, which is free to drink.

On August 8th, 2004, over the Kinzie Street Bridge in Chicago, Illinois, a tour bus belonging to The Dave Matthews Band dumped an estimated 800 pounds of human waste from the bus’s septic tank on to a passenger sightseeing boat on the Chicago River below.

Target found themselves in an awkward situation and had to issue an apology due to a labelling error that offended some 'plus-sized' customers. While selling a dress in various sizes, the small size was listed as 'Gray,' while the larger size was labelled as 'Manatee Gray'.

In 1771, Swedish king Adolf Frederick ate large servings of lobster, caviar, sausages and sauerkraut, washed down with copious amounts of champagne. For dessert, he had 14 (FOURTEEN) servings of semla – a Swedish sweet roll topped with whipped cream – with hot milk. Not long after dinner, he began complaining of stomach aches, which steadily worsened until he died a few hours later.

Thomas Jefferson's draft of the Declaration of Independence contained a passage that condemned slavery as one of the many evils brought upon the colonies by the British crown. The passage was removed from the final version for fear of alienating the southern colonies, which were heavily dependent on enslaved labourers. Ironically, although Thomas Jefferson called slavery an “abominable crime”, he was a lifelong slaveholder.

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

[lampmanliveblogs]

The Echo ouse Musse decided to share another entry of Philip Wittebane’s diary. It takes place five years after his journey began. He heard tales of lakes where the Titan’s veins had leaked some of its blood into lakes, which now reflected the blue sky and green trees of the Human Realm (which Belos specifically brought up before). One of these portals is located at Eclipse Lake at a mountaintop, which is probably the Knee where Kikimora is headed.

We already knew about Titan’s blood and how it could transport things between realms. Though now that it has been brought up again, I’m wondering if it was actually Titan’s blood that Belos was feeding into the portal door before and he needs more.

After The Owl house crew decides to split up, with Eda, King & Amity heading to Eclipse Lake, we cut to somewhere on the Knee. Kikimora is abusing some scouts,  trying to get them to dig faster, even though the tunnels are unstable.

It’s still not fully clear what exactly it is they’re digging for. It looks like it might be some kind of mining operation. Perhaps they’re digging into the flesh of the Titan to find some veins that might hold some blood still. Maybe Eclipse Lake was buried some time in the last four hundred years or so since Philip Wittebane came to visit.

It’s a good thing Kikimora brought Steve with her to this mission though. Steve is good at mining. But don’t be fooled by the blocks that he’s got, without a modpack, all he’s rocking is rocks.

I paused approximately one whole nanosecond too late, but I think that just made the thing funnier.

I guess no one in this episode just want to do like I tell them to do, because instead of going after the portal key, Hunter decided to dress up as the Grey Guard and go sabotage Kikimora’s mission. Like she thought he would. There’s still a chance Hunter’s gonna get his hands on the key though, since Amity is bringing it with her.

We also got confirmation here that the mission is to retrieve Titan’s Blood. Which Hunter plans to steal from Kimora and bring to Belos so he’ll be useful again. Which is also Kikimora’s motivation. You know, you two might actually get more done if you teamed up. Then you could both be valuable to the creepy dictator/cult leader.

I just gotta say though, I love how Hunter is all like ”Go away stupid palisman!” to the little rascal, but then in the very next breath starts explaining his plan.

Speaking of his plan, it kinda sucks. For one thing, even if he brings the Titan’s Blood to Belos, I don’t think Belos is gonna be very happy that he snuck out of the castle against orders. Or that he sabotaged Kikimora for that matter. Also, it doesn’t look like he brought his staff with him, leaving him mostly defenseless.

Don’t worry bro, it’s not you. It’s the Swedish you they’re talking about, he’s the one with the annoying voice.

I love this moment. Hunter is about to go into another one of his history lessons, like he did with Luz, but of course Eda and King are not gonna pay attention to that. And Amity doesn’t care either. It looks like you’re gonna need more than just some nerdy knowledge to get gain their sympathies, Hunter. I would tell you to try your tragic backstory of being magicless, since Eda is without magic too now, but she has this whole Harpy thing going for her now so she might not care.

With that, I’m gonna end things off for now. I should be able to get the rest done tomorrow, so I’ll see you all then.

[theultrablog]

Pulp Storytime #27: Beginner’s luck!

Is the pen mightier than a mind-rotting sword? I had some spare time this afternoon and someone on a Discord I was on talked about making a character but never getting to play an RPG. I whipped up a mini adventure. (I knew I wanted to run something on a train and something on a boat, she picked Oksana Larrson, and we went from there.) Oksana was hunting down stolen Swedish artifacts in North Egypt. After sneaking aboard a smuggler ship, she accidentally saw two crewmembers goofing around with ancient weapons. One told the other to block low, and then split his pal's head open with a Nordic sword! In a surprising move, Oksana told the captain that she had snuck aboard, and that one of the crew had murdered another. He was so startled by her honesty that he gave her a bunk… and promised to sell the weapon immediately. Unfortunately, Oksana had left her suitcase back in Alexandria, and by the time she called her editor and bought a train ticket, the weapon exchange had happened. Le Reynard, arrogant French dandy, intended to use his new artifact to win a duel at a Cairo soirée. Dutiful reporter Larrson spent much of the train ride corroborating details. It would be preferable to stop manslaughter, but she also had a duty to the truth! In Cairo, she leveraged a connection with the security team to get into the event. Unfortunately, the ambassador she wanted to warn was utterly convinced of his abilities. She told him that he was going to be killed, and he promised to ban the perpetrator from the premises. Of course, she got his name wrong… and the duel was about to begin. With seconds to spare, she grabbed the weapon, fled the party, and hustled to the airport. (She wisely decided to check it as luggage instead of a carry-on.) Cultural artifact: returned to Sweden. Manslaughter: averted. Story: filed. Not bad for a first game!

[raelly-writing]

Prompt 9: Lush - FFXIVWrite 2020

... you ever question the word associations your brain will make? Uuuh, mentions of mature themes towards the end, did not stop and think too hard about whether the fruit would be available or not. Nor would I brave trying to hammer out smut at 2AM in the morning.

---

Raising a fist, Viana knocked on the door. “Thancred?”

Immediately, she heard his muffled voice call out for her to come on in. She readjusted her grip on her book and the bowl she was carrying and nudged his door open so she could lean inside. Thancred was seated by his desk, as she had expected, his quill raised as if he was in the middle of writing something.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

Setting down his quill, Thancred leaned back in his chair with a reassuring smile. “Fear not, you didn’t.” Even from the door she could see the neat piles of journals and parchments that occupied most of the surface of his desk. “Something the matter?” he asked.

Giving him a small smile, she shook her head. “No, I was just wondering if I could read in here? I know you’re working but…” She glanced off to the side, shrugging sheepishly. It felt strange to adjust to dealing with their still new relationship while also readjusting to the routines and duties they had now to resume. It had seemed more… isolated, on the First, their time just split between the Empty and then whatever other tasks that may have cropped out, but there’d been little to stop them from just spending time with each other.

“Of course you may,” he replied warmly.

Relaxing, she slunk inside his room and nudged the door shut. “How’s it going?”

He heaved a slow sigh and looked down on the papers on his desk. “Unsurprisingly, Riol has done a good job managing everything on his own while we were gone. Turns out I’ve forgotten a fair bit of the finer details over the years though. Still have a fair few items to work my way through.”

“Perhaps a break is in order then,” she said softly and set down the bowl on an empty spot on his desk. “From F’lhammin.”

He instantly let out a low, throaty laugh. “Peaches?”

Shrugging, Viana turned and walked over to his bed. “Said they were from some orchard in Thanalan that you were familiar with,” she explained as she sat down to toe off her sandals.

“By the Twelve, that woman has a far too good memory.”

Chuckling, she glanced up at him. “I take it you enjoy those particular ones?”

Thancred was turning over one of the red and yellow fruits in his hands, a small smile on his face. “Mhm, I bought some when I was new in Ul’dah,” he mused. “After so many years in Sharlayan, I was fairly keen to explore food that actually tasted pleasantly.” He looked up at her, something in his expression turning a bit wry. “Nevermind being able to afford actually buying food for myself, for once.”

A sombre sense of understanding settled in her chest. Viana gave him a gentle look - it was a sentiment she was all too familiar with. Sometimes, when she was stressed especially, she could catch herself squirrelling away dry foods as if she was still a scrawny kid that risked going hungry. “Recurring favourite treat, I assume?”

He nodded. “Indeed, the orchard these are from boasts they’re the sweetest of its kind. Ever tried one?”

She shook her head. “Not from Thanalan at least - hey!” Dropping her book onto the bed, she quickly caught the fruit that Thancred suddenly tossed across the room to her.

A playful grin spread on his lips when she frowned at him. “Try it, I think you’ll like it.”

Viana looked down at the fruit while running her fingers over the soft, fuzzy surface. “Alright, alright, if you’re going to be tossing them at me like that,” she grumbled. The ones she’d had in Othard had not had such a hairy surface. Oh well, if he was sure they were that good. Carefully, she bit into the fruit. Luscious, sweet juices instantly filled her mouth, the fruitmeat silky smooth on her tongue.

“Oh!” She put her hand to her lips, blinking in surprise as she chewed. It certainly lived up to his praise. The fruit was so overflowing with its sweet juices that droplets of it were soon running down her hand - certainly a welcome treat were one to be standing in the middle of Ul’dah’s sunbaked streets, she could imagine. Without thinking of it, she moved the fruit to her other hand and licked away the errant droplets from her hand. “You weren’t exaggerating,” she finally said and looked up at Thancred. “It’s really good.”

Barely had the words left her mouth before he got up from his chair and crossed the short distance to her. A rush of heat spread across the back of her neck at the suddenly hungry look in his eyes.

As if he noticed her reaction, a charming smile curled the corner of his mouth just before he leaned down and caught her lips in a slow, firm kiss that swiftly scattered her thoughts like a flock of cloudkin. Inhaling sharply through her nose, Viana tilted her head back as her eyes fluttered shut, his hand warm where it settled at her jaw. There were such subtle differences to how he felt and tasted here on the Source - more tangible, as if there’d always been some sort of give to his form on the First. Clearer, like there was no longer a faint undercurrent of the alkaline taste of aether lingering on his lips anymore.

Before she knew it, he had gently pushed her back against the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he knelt over her. The kisses melted into one another, the texture of his thumb rough against her cheek as he caressed it. Aware of the sticky juices covering her free hand, Viana merely brushed her fingertips against his neck, yearning to bury them in his hair. Despite how he kept the kisses slow and controlled, she could sense the restrained hunger simmering beneath his touch.

Slowly, Thancred broke off the kiss with a pleased, humming sound. When she blinked her eyes open, he was staring down at her with a rakish smile, satisfaction sparkling in his hooded eyes. “Just as sweet as I remember,” he rumbled.

Snorting, Viana raised an eyebrow at him. “Think you tasted the wrong thing, ser,” she retorted, laughter lacing her words.

His gaze shifted to the peach when she held it up for him, then back to her. Gently, he grasped her wrist in his. Viana felt her mouth go dry as she watched him gingerly take a bite out of the fruit. It was nearly obscene how his tongue darted out to lick the juices from his lips as he contemplated her for a moment that seemed to stretch into an eternity. A searing heat rushed up over her cheeks, her heart thumping violently against her ribcage. The satisfied look in his eyes told her that he knew precisely what he was doing right then.

“Quite delicious,” he hummed. With a low, thoughtful sound he carefully took the fruit from her hand, then casually deposited it onto his nightstand. “But I think I’m in the mood for another treat entirely,” he finally continued as his voice dropped to a low timbre that instantly made her stomach twist pleasantly. Arousal quickly wound through her body, liquid heat pooling between her thighs.

Viana took a slow, steadying breath as she draped her arms over his shoulders. “What about your work?” she asked lightly.

Laughing quietly, Thancred placed another slow kiss to her mouth. “I think I have earned a little break,” he murmured against her lips.

“I suppose so,” she whispered with a smile, and tugged him down with her onto the bed.

Not that he needed much coaxing. His mouth was hot and hungry against hers, the sweet taste of the peach lingering on his tongue. Soon enough, their clothes lay scattered over the floor, her legs resting over his broad shoulders, fingers twisting in his silver tresses as he eagerly had his fill of her, only their breathless voices and sounds of pleasure filling the stillness of the room.

[mirkwoodest]

I want to make a hierarchy of "how deep in are you?" Tolkien content/lore. Anyone want to contribute some "oh jirt, we're really in it now" stuff for me to rank by intensity of obsession?

Here's what I have off the top of my head (not in order):

They're taking the hobbits to Isengard

Eagles discourse

The cartoon hobbit

The cartoon LOTR

the LOTR musical

Middle Earth is flat, but only to Elves

The various titles of the Red Book of Westmarch

Everything about Westron and the translation-ception

Intimate understanding of hobbit family trees

Intimate understanding of elf family tries

How many Glorfindels discourse

Do balrogs have wings discourse

Viggo Mortensen broke his toe on camera and you can see it in the final cut

Viggo Mortensen bought his horse

Sean Bean hiked everywhere

Most of the riders of rohan were played by women

All but one fellowship actor got a matching tattoo

The New Zealand airplane commercial

Tolkien hated it when people called the battle of helms deep "the battle of helms deep" because it should technically be called "the defense of hornburg"

Saruman's techinicolor dreamcoat

The Hobitit

Sauron is sexy, actually

C.S. Lewis and Tolkien friendship / inklings

Beren is Tolkien's self-insert and Luthien is his wife.

C.S. Lewis is treebeard

Middle Earth is post-apocolyptic from an Elf perspective

Tolkien is the magician's apprentice

Tolkien hated that santa was in Narnia

The Diana Wynne Jones encounter

Knowing how tall various characters are, especially Aragorn

wizards and balrogs are the same species

Why does Frodo suddenly forget sindarin when Faramir tells him about the a place literally called the spider steps?

Knowing exactly what pieces of early medieval northern european folklore Tolkien snuck into the books, especially The Wanderer poem.

Tooks kicking ass in the scourging of the shire

Knowing that Aragorn and Arwen are distantly related

Knowing what constitutes a legal marriage for elves

Do Elves get periods lore

Dwarf gender discourse

Is that a weed? discourse

Noldor propaganda discourse

Are Frodo and Bilbo unreliable narrators discourse

Sindarin accents/dialects discourse

Lobelia/Smaug parallels

Tolkien didn't like writing battle scenes

Tolkien hated it when people saw WWI/industrialization allegories in LOTR

conversely, C.S. Lewis REALLY needed everyone to know that Aslan was jesus

Tolkien didn't have enough female characters but he drank his respect women juice

conversely, C.S. Lewis had plenty of female characters but was frightened and confused by them

tolkien stole a bus one time

The Various Names and Nicknames of Jirt

Born of Hope

PHFs, PEFs, PDFs, and PMFs.

Related to the above, the Cassandra Clare connection

Leonard Nimoy's bilbo baggins song

Knowing Tolkien's first civilian job

2000s era Faramir discourse

Knowing who has the 3 rings

The terrifying implications of Tom Bombadil

Racism and Anti-semitism in tolkiens works

Conversely, the fuck-off letter Tolkien sent the nazis

Is the shire more technologically advanced that other parts of middle earth?

Historical migration paths of the hobbits

Hobbit class system analysis

Pippin is destined to be the highest ranking hobbit of his generation

Tolkien hated disney

The Heavy Metal/Black Metal connection

The names and marriages of Merry, Pippin, and Sam's children

The intense Swedish Translator rivalry

Okay that's it from the top of my noggin. I'm sorely lacking silm lore here but any other additions are appreciated!

[oleksiak-pettersson]

Five Times Elias Pettersson was Teased for Being Whipped and One Time He Wasn't (5+1)

From my old blog (oh-holy-alien)

01.

Like any normal Canucks hangout, you were gathered with the other WAGs, gossiping and joking about the usual things.

You and Holly Horvat had been having a conversation regarding her now teething infant son when Elias snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You relaxed into his arms, having missed his touch for the not even half an hour you had been apart.

“You two are too cute,” Holly laughs, readjusting the infant on her hip.

The compliment makes your stomach fill with butterflies, you know you’re blushing as you turn to hide your head in the junction of Elias’ neck. Elias starts to pull funny faces at the baby as you turn your body into his to be cradled to his chest. His arms are wrapped around your waist, not tight enough to hurt but tight enough that you know he’s got you.

The little baby giggles at the funny face Elias makes at him. You turn your head to watch the Swede as he pulls more faces at the infant. The boy’s entire face lights up as you and Holly laugh.

Elias turns his attention to you as Meagan Pearson and her little guy, Tucker, call Holly’s attention away. He presses a kiss to your forehead, allowing you to spin around in his arms and have your back pressed against his front. Elias begins to sway you both back and forth slightly.

His head leans forward to rest on your shoulder.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, hoping only you can hear him.

It makes you smile; it amazes you how sweet and clingy this man can be as opposed to the personality he dons in front of the Vancouver media. Granted, it won’t stop you from teasing him.

“You were without me for not even fifteen minutes.” You joke, turn to look at him.

His jaw drops at you as if you’ve said the most offensive thing ever. You can hear the WAGs around you laugh at the look on his face.

“It was thirty minutes and it was the longest thirty minutes of my life.” The dramatics are dripping from his voice as he tries to pull you closer, even though it’s barely possible.

“And yet all you could talk about was ‘oh I miss Y/N’,” Brock shouts from across JT Miller’s backyard where he stands with some of the other guys.

Elias goes quiet pretty quickly. You turn to look at his face and he’s blushing. The rosy red of his cheeks pops on his pale skin, a beautiful contrast of emotion and colour.

“‘Oh look how pretty my girlfriend looks today’.” Troy mocks in a poorly attempted Swedish accent.

The crowd giggles at his comment, more so the accent than anything else.

“Try sharing a room with him when on the road,” Quinn rolls his eyes, “‘Why won’t she text me back?’ ‘What time is it in Vancouver?’ ‘I hope Y/N is thinking about me.’ The only thing he talks about is her.”

This comment causes you to blush this time, knowing how much Elias likes to know what you’re up to when on the road.

“How’d you get him so whipped for you, Y/N?” Thatcher yells, causing Elias’ teammates to burst into laughter.

“You’re just jealous you’re not whipped for anyone.” Elias chirps back before leading you into the kitchen.

02.

Elias couldn’t stand being around his teammates when they were drunk. They were a messy group of crazies when inebriated.

Elias didn’t enjoy getting drunk without you. He would become eight times more clingy if you were with him, but annoyingly mopey if you weren’t. You had an exam the following Wednesday and talked about really needing the extra time to study.

Elias had tried his hardest to get you to come with him to no avail. So he had respected your wishes and departed for the bar alone, not before kissing you goodbye and promising an early return time.

What Elias had even failed to mention was the fact that tonight was actually guys’ night and you weren’t supposed to be invited in the first place.

So here he sat, at the bar, a coke in hand as he stares at the tv on the wall behind him. Some basketball game is being played, not that he understands basketball but it’s a better distraction than watching the water drop race down the side of his cup.

Brock had been chasing him down all night trying his best to shove shots down Elias’ throat with a very low success rate of zero. So when Brock finally finds Elias at the bar, he’s got a game plan to get Elias tanked.

Brock sat, not gracefully at all, down beside Elias. He slides the tequila shot over to the Swede and smirks when Elias looks up at him.

“I thought I told you earlier I don’t want to drink,” Elias says he’s clearly annoyed with Brock’s antics.

“But I ignored it. Face it, man, you’re boring as hell without Y/N.” Brock taunts, watching as Elias scrunches his face up with distaste before picking up the tiny shot glass and slurping it up quickly.

Brock smiles happily as Elias downs the shot. Brock waves to the bartender and gets Elias six more shots.

It requires no more taunting or work to get Elias to consume the rest of the shots. Elias and Brock get up from the bar and go to join the rest of the team in their booth.

Bo raises an eyebrow at the clearly now intoxicated Elias who is having a bit of trouble walking. JT just smirks and pushes the remaining five shots the group had ordered towards the young Swede.

Elias happily accepts, the alcohol hitting hard. The team is talking around him, as he begins to think about how he misses you.

Quinn notices the shift of his mood first. “Uh oh,” He gestures towards Elias, “you okay there, bud?”

“I just miss her.” Elias whines, his whole entire face falls.

“Fuck, you’ve barely even been gone for two hours. You need to be able to be away from her.” Thatcher gets agitated easily when drunk and it’s clear as he looks at Elias.

“He just loves her,” Bo rolls his eyes at Thatcher.

“Nah, he misses her tits.” Tanner Pearson yells, he’s sitting beside Bo but fails to understand the sheer volume of his voice.

“They’re pretty.” Elias murmurs, from where his head has sunk down onto the table.

“You can’t even spend three hours with your friends without missing your girlfriend,” Troy laughs, “You are whipped.”

Elias doesn’t respond, his cell phone pings diverting his attention away from being teased. There’s a text from you and his face lights up.

Love of my life: baby, do you need me to come to get you? Brock sent me some videos and you seem pretty wasted

Elias: pluhse cohme geta me

Love of my life: on my way hot stuff

“Where’s the out?” Elias slurs, as he looks up from his phone.

Bo laughs before helping Elias up from the booth and leading him to the door.

03.

It was a rough game. Elias was frustrated, he’d been hit several times by the opposing team and nearly got injured. He was thankful for his teammates who had come to his rescue and beat the shit out of the opposing team players.

But they hadn’t been able to bring the W home. Elias couldn’t beat the opposing team’s goalie either and had failed to secure any points for himself.

He hated nights like these. He especially hated nights like these when you were here to watch. With your school schedule the way it was, he wanted to make sure that when you got to go to a game that he played well and made it worth it. To make it worse, his family was visiting from Sweden as well.

He’d been quiet in the dressing room, which was normal for him but this was a different type of quiet. He was stuck in his own head, and all he wanted was to be held by you.

Brock had been attempting to bring up team spirit but was failing epically. He had managed to get out of his gear quicker than Elias.

He finds you standing among the other WAGs, friends and family in the hallway outside the dressing room.

You’re standing beside Irene, listening and nodding as she and Torbjorn discuss the game. Fanny is on her phone, texting Emil who couldn’t make it to Vancouver during this trip.

Brock approaches you, pulling you from your thoughts as he joins your little group.

“He’s in rough shape,” Brock says, looking straight at you.

“Is he hurt?” You’re worried, searching Brock’s face for any indication that he’s lying to you.

“No, but he’s beating himself-” Brock is cut off as Elias pushes past him.

Elias wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. For someone so large, he can easily make himself seem so small in your arms.

He buries his face in your neck, letting you run your fingers through his hair. His breathing begins to even out as you sway him back and forth a little.

His mother stands there watching you embrace her son and she smiles fondly, his dad has engaged Brock in conversation and you can see Fanny filming the scene over Irene’s shoulder. You can’t help but smile at the little family you have here at this moment.

You’re facing the end of the hallway out to the parking lot.

Elias looks up to see his teammates standing behind you in a group, they mimic cracking whips and mouth ‘whipped’ at him. It’s all Elias can do to just hide his face back in your neck and inhale your calming scent.

04.

Your boyfriend was an angel. Quarantine was kicking your guys’ asses. Elias had been adamant that you come with him to Sweden since your classes had gone online. He’d been so supportive of you finishing your classes that you wanted to reward him.

A big thing both you and Elias had gotten into during quarantine was TikTok, Elias had even done a couple of dances with you and begun to create his own funny content. You’d been thoroughly enjoying the TikTok trend of girls walking out in front of their boyfriends naked while they were busy and decided it would be a fantastic idea to try with Elias.

You knew for certain that he was gaming with Brock, Quinn and Thatcher. His other friends had logged off as it was getting late in Sweden.

Elias wore headphones while gaming with a mic, but thankfully no camera.

You happily strip down to nothing, wrapping a towel around yourself and opening your TikTok app. You start to film as you walk into the living room.

He looks up at you and smiles before going back to his game. They’re playing NHL20 and Elias seems to be kicking the other boys’ asses. You can hear their voices screaming at him through his headphones.

You clear your throat and watch him look up at you, the game paused. You smile coyly and drop the towel, watching as his eyes widen. His jaw drops and he kind of just freezes in place.

“Okay, bye guys.” He says into the mic before throwing his headset on the couch and diving for you. You end the video and post it quickly as he carries you to the bedroom.

Elias wakes the next morning to several texts in his group chat with Thatcher, Brock and Quinn.

Quinn: Leave us for Y/N?

Brock: Petey is getting laid

Thatcher: Yeah cause he’s fucking pussy whipped

Quinn: Can’t believe he ditched us to get laid

Thatcher: You’re just mad I won instead of him

Brock: Nah boys, Petey won. He got fucked.

Elias: If you guys had a girl getting naked in front of you I’m damn sure you’d ditch the boys for sex, I‘d rather be whipped than jerking off by myself every night Thatcher

05.

Brock smiled as he watched Elias dial his phone. Brock had gotten his way, he suggested Thai takeout much to your displeasure but Thatcher, Quinn, Troy, Emma, and Thatcher agreed with him. It had left Elias with no choice but to order the Thai.

You had Thai for lunch, there was a good place close by campus. You and your friends had studied and caught up, enjoying your meals.

You expressed this to the group but it fell on deaf ears. Brock had managed to convince the whole group to go along with his craving. You just really wanted butter chicken.

But you went along with the group.

It was your guys’ weekly group movie night. You and Elias were curled up on the love seat while everyone else had piled onto your L-shaped couch. Milo, Coolie, Phoebe, and Delilah were laid out on the floor in various places, having already been fed by their respective owners.

Thatcher had tried to convince everyone to watch Lord of the Rings but he tried every week to no avail. Emma had suggested the Hunger Games and everyone had agreed to that idea.

The reaping was midway through when the doorbell rang, signalling the arrival of the food. Elias presses pause on the movie and everyone checks their phones in anticipation of the food.

Elias presses a kiss to your forehead before removing your shared blanket from his body. He makes his way to the front door to get the food and tip the delivery person.

He comes back with a large bag and one tiny container.

He places the bag down on the coffee table and picks up the small container before coming back to join you on the love seat.

He hands you the container and cutlery. You look confused as you accept the container, peeling off the lid to find butter chicken and garlic naan. You smile victoriously, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks, baby.” You smile and dig into your food.

Brock looks over and notices your container, his jaw drops as he looks back at Elias who is fixing himself some food at the coffee table.

“Did you seriously get your girlfriend food from a different place because she didn’t want Thai food?” Brock questions, drawing the group’s attention to the container in your lap.

“Since you clearly know the answer, I’m not answering that question, Brock.” Elias rolls his eyes and then focuses back on the food he’s scooping out of one of the many containers.

“God that’s pathetic.” Thatcher laughs, “You realize you’re fucking her and don’t need to constantly impress her.”

“I like to keep my woman happy,” Elias says matter of factly as he rejoins you on the love seat, purposely pulling you into his lap for emphasis.

“He’s very good at it.” You smile, rubbing his bicep as he smiles back at you.

“He’s very whipped is what he is,” Quinn laughs. Elias takes his attention away from you to frown at his younger teammate.

“You guys are horribly unromantic,” Emma says to the boys before turning to Elias, “I think it’s sweet that you are so in tune with Y/N’s needs.”

Elias blushes before pressing play on the movie to bring everyone’s attention away from him.

06.

The men had thought it was the perfect day for a picnic at Stanley Park. They’d arranged everything.

Bringing grills and the food and all necessary cutlery, they made hotdogs and hamburgers. The children raced around playing versions of the game tag you couldn’t comprehend from watching.

The atmosphere was jovial as everyone gathered and ate.

You had been talking to one of the kids when Elias approached you.

“Oh babe, your shoelace is untied, let me get it for you.” Elias bends down, you half expect some chirping or even the guys making whip noises around you.

So you look around at the team and notice everyone staring at you. Thatcher, Brock and Quinn have their phones out.

You turn back to Elias to ask him why they aren’t teasing him, only to find Elias knelt in front of you on one knee. He’s holding a box with the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen in it.

Your hand comes to cover your mouth as you hold back a sob. You can’t express the joy in your heart as you stare into the most beautiful blue eyes.

Elias smiles, he too is tearing up.

“Y/N M/N L/N, you are my other half. You bring me comfort and joy. You are my best friend and my biggest supporter, there’s nowhere I want to be more than by your side for the rest of my life. I want to give you everything because you give me everything you are. I want a house and a family with you. You never fail to make me laugh when I need to be uplifted. I love who I am when I’m with you. You make me the best version of myself. Will you make me the happiest man on the planet and become my wife?” Elias never falters as he asks you.

“Yes,” you manage to cry out, his speech truly affecting you.

He stands up as quick as he can and pulls you into a kiss. It’s salty and wet as both of you are crying but it’s soft and passionate. He pulls away to place the ring on your finger and to rest his forehead against yours.

The team begins to clap and cheer around you.

[helloliriels]

INTO BATTLE

by helloliriels

The first bite of wedding cake to touch his mouth that day was prinsesstårta. It was a ridiculous risk, and he really shouldn’t have, but damn if it hadn’t been delicious! As Sherlock slid the fork onto John’s tongue and let him bite into the marzipan and raspberry concoction, all John could think of was letting Sherlock kiss it off of his lips. He did. They did.

And did some more … giggling …

The minister coughed drily. Reminding them of the day, and the hour.

They both pulled back reluctantly. Sorting themselves back into a semblance of traditional anxious ‘Groom’ and reluctant ‘Best Man’ - and hid the smiles that threatened to overtake their ‘I’ve-waited-for-this-moment-all-my-life’ faces.

The green color of the Swedish cake glowed at them from the table. It was a perfect match for the carnations they had snuck into the wedding bouquets that overflowed in every corner of the wedding hall and now stood on a dressing table, wrapped in cellophane ... waiting for Mary to finish dressing and pick it up.

John’s eyes danced to Sherlock, thanking him silently for this reclaiming. Sherlock nodded.

The minister handed him a pen, and Sherlock quickly signed the page. He had never been so happy to sign a document in his life! John followed suit.

They exchanged one more knowing glance, and then they were ready.

To battle.

The minister folded the piece of paper up and hid it inside of his inner vest pocket. Then he crumpled the remains of the cake slice into it’s plate in a nearby bin and covered it with some tissues, a coffee stained napkin and a now empty coffee cup he had been told to bring with him. Making sure no one could see it under all the rubbish.

The man with the umbrella had been oddly clear on that point …

Providing the vest, and the badly needed coffee ...

This was going to be the most unique wedding day he had ever officiated. He could tell already.

@johnlocky @fluffbyday-smutbynight @ohlooktheresabee @calaisreno @kitten-kin @bluebellofbakerstreet @arwamachine @therealsaintscully @totallysilvergirl @elldotsee @khorazir @masterofhounds @janetm74 @discordantwords @7-percent @simplyclockwork @randomwordsonpaper @saoirse-1887 @rachel1337 @mentally-unstable-fangirl @angrybagginshieldbakery @thequirkyotter @cmorris-art @thewatsonbeekeepers @peepingcreek @evanesse888 @shelleysprometheus @swissmissing @inevitably-johnlocked @finleycannotdraw @summerfly-lesbian @mr-nauseam @battledress @margueritesomebodyoranother @hyacinths-on-my-grave @missdeliadili @iamjustreading @peanitbear @bertytravelsfar @pocketwatchofmycroft @iwlyanmw @i-still-am-distantstarlight @dinner--starving

[incognito-lionbeast]

Ancient Aliens

Summary: While taking a quick pit stop at a gas station along the way to New York, Wylde explains his prosthetic arm to a little girl.

Ao3: /works/40884336 ----

   A little girl with doe eyes wide and bright stared innocently at the gleaming, metallic surface of Wylde’s prosthetic arm. If she were, perhaps, a little less well-behaved, then only a miracle could have stopped her from reaching out to touch it. She wanted to. Oh, she wanted to, but she still had her manners and the big guy attached to it was, maybe, a little more intimidating than she’d like to admit. But only a little! She retreated part-way behind the aisle’s end cap when Wylde looked her way, shyness getting the best of her. Although, to the benefit of her parents a few aisles away, perhaps that was wisdom beyond her years.

   Wylde was still a stranger, after all.

  “Hey,” Wylde entreated softly, staying exactly where he was. “Y’know, I promise I don’t bite. If you got somethin’ you wanna ask, I’m all ears.”

   Wylde scanned across the gas station’s hovel of a storefront as he awaited a response. Where was Vert? Don’t tell him that he lost both him and Kurt in such a tiny shop. Eh, whatever. They’d resurface eventually. There wasn’t enough of a commotion for it to be a kidnapping. Not in broad daylight. Satisfied with the thought that maybe they were using the facilities, Wylde was caught off-guard when the little girl snuck back into the aisle again to stare at him better. Her eyes pierced right through him with childish wonder, now clutching a small bag of overpriced Swedish fish.

   A buffer.

  “What happened to your arm?” She asked over the loud crinkling of plastic and fishies. This was the most important question she’d ever asked, and she was appropriately nervous about it. As such, Wylde knelt down to a more child-friendly level, brandishing his accursed Drone arm like it was something special. He was no Edward Elric, but it probably looked pretty cool to anyone that didn’t know better. Like this little girl. So, he was gonna try to be on his best behaviour, too. Mostly. There was a spark of something mischievous in his expression.

   “Promise you won’t tell nobody?” Wylde answered, leveling with her.

   She nodded.

  “A’ight, see.. truth is, I got kidnapped by some real mean alien robots,” he said, delighted with the knowledge that he was saying nothing but the truth -- yet, it didn’t really matter how many people she told. The credibility of an imaginative 7 year-old was more than a little iffy. Still, Wylde couldn’t go letting her be scared  about it, so he amended with all the confidence he could muster. “Don’t worry, though. Me and my friends took care of ‘em all. They might’ve gotten my arm, but eh… it’s alright. Doesn’t hurt.”

   Actually, Mark still couldn’t remember the whole thing, but that wasn’t important.

   The important part was–watching the little girl’s eyes grow rounder and rounder–that she believed him. Completely and without question. She ducked behind her protective bag of fish to process this incredible, new knowledge, and it was her knowledge! All hers.

   Or, at least it was ‘til she blurted it all to her parents at the very next chance she got, but nobody was perfect.

[nylwnder]

cold december night | rasmus sandin

a/n: finally writing for my swedish lil’ baby!!! rasmus i love you so much and i think he’s out of protocol today so let’s fucking gooo!!!

warnings: make out session, implied soft smut (nothing bad so it’s okay)

word count: 1.05k

taglist: @bb-nhlqueen7 , @sebbyaho , @swedishprince88 , @nilspettersson , @boqvistsbabe , @oliviapangburn118 , @brandtsclarke , @stars-canucks , @drei-mrssvechii , @joeljuice

inspired by: cold december night by michael bublé

series masterpost: 10 days of christmas

hand in hand, we walked through the park to get some air on this cold december night. it was just after evening, so the parks were empty. the snow left with marks from sleds that kids would ride all afternoon.

i looked up at rasmus’ face, it was rosy. he smiles at me and it made me feel warm against the frosty air. all of a sudden my foot slipped on a certain section of the cement most luckily due to black ice. although i was holding sandy’s hand, i still fell on a pile of snow pulling him with me. “woah! haha are you okay, sötnos?” he asks as he grabs me tight to pull me up.

“yeah, yeah i’m okay. black ice.” i said. he kissed my head, but whilst i saw the pile of snow and i couldn’t help but decide to quickly form a snowball and hide it behind my back. when we started to walk again, sandy began talking but i trailed back and threw the white ball on his back.

i laughed while he stopped in his tracks and turned around with a look that only meant ‘it was on’. i ran away when i saw him bend down to the snow but i felt a hit on my arm. i turned around and gave him a mischievous look, i wasn’t going to lose this time.

i ran some more until i hid by a light post and tried my best to form a bigger ball than before. ras walked over to me but i snuck away from the lighpost and threw the snowball that then landed on his stomach. he laughed as he wiped his jacket and ran after me. he was about to grab hold of me by a piece of my jacket but i was able to dodge him off and i ran a bit more forward to stand in front of him with distance. he stopped and we gave each other a stare off. “i’m going to win this time! last time you won just cause i fell. so it’s so on sandman.” i said, he smiled in response.

“oh y/n... try me” he says as he throws a snowball he had been hiding. it hit my leg as i gave him a shocked face. i quickly ducked to grab a chunk of snow and threw it at him, some landed on his face as well. “oh we’re doing face?” he asks, as he scoops snow to my direction. it landed on my hair and i let out a small noise because of the coldness.

i ran to the nearest hill covered in white and made two perfectly round snowballs with the sticky snow. i looked around and couldn’t find rasmus in sight. i walked along slowly, looking in every direction possible. “sandyyyy…..” i said, though he was still nowhere near in sight.

i began to feel two different things: he was probably setting me up so don't lose focus, but then also seeing my boyfriend out of insight in the small empty park at night should sort of make you nervous.

i called after him again and there was no sign from him. not even a sound. “hey come on, how are we supposed to play if i can’t even see you!” i protested. it wasn't until i felt a large round shape hit my back that i got mad he was in such close contact. i turned around and threw one of the snowballs at him but i missed. i dropped my other one as i heard his laugh right before he ran up to me, grabbing me and gently but effectively putting me down to the ground.

i let out a screech as he pinned me down just enough to not be able to shimmy out. we both laughed, as he sat up, forming another snowball. “fine, finish me.” i said while looking to the side and waiting for the last hit to seal his victory.

he smirked, but as he looked at me he stalled. he ended up dropping the ball to his side and said, “you know what, i’m actually a nice guy.” allowing me to get up, i grabbed his snowball and hit him in the stomach. “fine, i win!” i said, giving him a grin.

he grinned back, pulling me to him and kissing me hard. his lips were warm and soft. they parted slightly, allowing my tongue to slip inside. i grabbed the back of his neck and stood a bit taller to try to never let go of the movements our lips made together. but one of us had to make the decision to break it cause our lungs needed a breath. so i pulled back and let the cold air come in and out of me. “well, i don’t think nice guys kiss like that.” i said.

“oh yes they do” he says as he takes my hand and we jog back to our cozy apartment. we burst open the door and i pin him to the wall by the shoe rack. he kicked the door closed and lifted me up carrying me to the couch. as he sat down i straddled his lap and tugged at his hair.

our bodies pressed together heatedly, breathing heavily as our lips also pressed together. we fumbled to take off our wintery clothes, but i striped him of his coat and his sweater. my hands roamed his torso and we only broke our kisses for air.

we became even more needy and continued with our soft and intimate actions. “i love you” was said throughout, igniting our desire for each other. we really do love each other and i’m so grateful for having him in my life.

after, we laid together on the couch, chest to chest, drawing things with our fingers on each other’s exposed skin. he kissed my forehead, his hand resting on my hip. our legs tangled, our bodies toasty warm compared to earlier. soft music played in the back as the christmas tree in the living room lighted up the space just enough.

“thank you for falling in love with me” i said as i gave him a kiss on the chin. he smiled and kissed me, “it’s my pleasure älskling”

[ join my taglist if you enjoyed reading! : click here <3 ]

[shiversdownyerspine]

12. Touch

Miss me? :D

18+

Cheeks still burning from the prior antics of the Swedish men in your living room, you toss your leggings and underwear haphazardly to your laundry basket as you hear Otto enter their guestroom to change.  Normally you would have had the presence of mind to hold on to your perfectly fine leg wear, but you're a bit distracted with the lingering sensation of skin against skin and have gone into auto pilot.

Shiver curling down your spine at the memory of their teasing, you try to focus on the soft patter of rain against your bedroom window as you pace to your dresser for a change of clothes. To no avail, the rain isn't enough to keep you distracted.

Axel and Oscar had gotten you good, and just when you thought Otto had offered you respite from his roguish siblings, the biggest of the brothers had snuck in a cheeky kiss!

Well...a kiss on the cheek, to be precise.

Grabbing up replacement leggings and underwear, you refuse to let your mind sink into the concept of kisses. Because if you did, you would start thinking about lip to lip kisses instead. And your poor heart has just managed to settle its rapid pace, you don't need any more stimulation.

Clothing donned and dress smoothed, you breathe in, hold it, and breathe out. It doesn't eradicate the jittery butterflies as you had hoped it would, but it does help soothe them somewhat. Looking to your bathroom, you tiptoe to the door and quietly peek inside.

Looks like Thing 1 and 2 could care less about storms; curled up together inside the sink, the two appear to be enjoying a nap. Even with a soft lingering rumble of thunder, they are still. Not a twitch of the ear or tail to be seen. Hm. Might as well let them snooze. If the storm gets heavy, you'll check on them again.

Trusting that the kittens are house broken, you leave the bathroom door open a crack as a nice surprise for them and grab up the towel before heading out of your room. You'll have to remind yourself to do a load of laundry tonight. As you wander over to the washer to deposit the towel, your ears pick up the sound of the brothers softly conversing in Swedish. The squeak of the washing machine door seems to interrupt the conversation, and as you pop the door closed and wander back out to the living room, you find the brothers looking quite expectantly at you from the sofa.

Or at least Axel and Otto are on the sofa, Oscar had gotten up to give Butternut some attention. Still barechested, he cocks his head inquisitively at you.

"Kattungar...kittens good?"

"Mhm, they're napping. They don't really seem bothered by the storm so I'll leave them be for now."

Oscar nods, satisfied as he scratches a furry chin before lifting the fluffball up to deposit her on the armchair next to the sofa. Content on her throne, the cat purrs away as Oscar kneels in front of her to give extra scritches.

Armchair occupied, you sit in the only available spot on the sofa, settling comfortably on the end next to Axel. It would seem that when Otto had changed he had also grabbed his brothers some upper clothing, but the youngest had decided to use his as a makeshift cushion for Butternut's throne.

Clearing your throat, you pick up where you left off, "Sooo...yes, I have a 2nd Phase. And I'm not going to answer any questions about it, as the original intent was to stick to questions about my 1st Phase."

Hoping to get back on track, you watch as Oscar leaves Butternut to her oh so comfy chair and settles down next to you on the floor with his back against the sofa. He cranes his head a bit to watch you, face scrunched in thought. Mind made up, he raises his chin in defiance and says a single word.

"One."

You stiffen, looking down at a stubbornly focused Oscar. One, is it? Of course there is no doubt to what he is referring to; he wants a question, a single question about your 2nd Phase.

Arms folded, thoughts ebb and flow as you consider his request. How much would this effect you? Effect them? Would they even ask something you could answer? Regardless of the question they decide on, this is quite the heavy topic for you.

But they are now aware that you can be dangerous, and it's just one question after all.

Feeling their eyes on you, waiting patiently, your gaze drifts to your knees with a sigh.

"Just. One," You acquiesce, softening as the words slip from your lips.

Oscar perks up with eager surprise, prompting you to warn, "But keep in mind, I might not even be able to answer. My 2nd Phase is...complicated in a way. There's not much I can say because I don't know much about it."

Feeling Axel's eyes burning into you with arguably the most intensity, you peer to the side to address something that had been lingering on the edge of your mind since you woke in Otto's arms, "And could I ask for something in return?"

You take the curious tilt of the man's head as a good sign that he'd at least hear you out, which he confirms, "Yes. But it depends."

A bit bashful, you murmur, "Fair enough, it is sort of an odd request. Would you like to ask your question first?"

Axel throws a pointed stare to Oscar, a clear warning that he had better not try to steal this question as he had done previously. The youngest just relaxes comfortably back against the sofa, content to leave the rest up to his older siblings. In the meantime, he curiously eyes your leggings...something is odd...

Otto watches the eldest, knowing he was carefully considering options. If he had to guess, Axel was most likely trying to figure out what question would lead to giving them the most information. The oldest would have to compromise, seeing as how you had given them a limit. The mystery is tempting to linger on, but honestly Otto is more curious about just what you want to ask of them, what you could possibly want that the three could give.

Finally Axel decides upon the question, it's deceptive in its simplicity.

"What are differences between 1st Phase and 2nd?"

You relax, appreciative that this won't pry too much into your history nor ask that you go into detail about a certain something that the higher ups would rather you not mention.

"Really you can think of my 2nd Phase as being the natural progression of my 1st. If my 1st Phase is for when I'm hurt, then my 2nd Phase is for when I'm dying."

Fidgeting, your hands lightly clasp together as you continue, "I have more feathers, not just the.. fluffy down, but semiplume and contour feathers. More scales, but bigger. Much, much longer claws with a slight curve, and enhanced regeneration and senses. That's about it, I think."

There is further detail you could go into about the...visceral nature of your healing in that state, but you'd rather not. Not right now, but maybe another time. The brothers give a silent pause, one of acceptance, you hope, and then ask when you first discovered your ability.

Your hand drifts to the back of your neck, "Well, I discovered the feathers on my nape first. Very strange, almost panicked and tried to rip them out but eventually I just...got used to them. Surprisingly quickly. Kept them hidden as much as possible, so I would never let our caretaker cut my hair, no ponytails or buns or braids or anything. She was not pleased with me being a 'wild child' and 'rebelling'."

You grin, "One time, she had had enough and announced that next morning she would be cutting my hair short, right to my ears. And that there was no way I was getting out of it and I'd get no supper until it was done."

Otto questions, "Did she..?"

"Oh no, I um...that night after everyone went to bed, I crept out and hid every pair of scissors I could find. Even the pair in her office, had to sneak in through the window for that one. I was pretty thorough, come morning she couldn't find any, and by dinnertime she had given up. She couldn't prove it was me, but she gave me the stink eye for weeks."

Oscar sighs dramatically, "No dinner."

"Ah see, she tried to stick to her guns, but she was a big softie; came knocking on my door with a plate for me, but said, 'Only proper ladies get to eat with everyone, you will be eating alone to think about what you've done.' I should have just kept quiet but...I asked her what exactly I had done, and her face went so red! Didn't say a word and just walked right out, mumbling to herself the whole time."

Shaking your head with a soft smile, you murmur, "I caused that woman so much grief. Never really meant to...not usually."

Axel gets you back on track with an amused hum, "First Phase?"

"Well...I liked to climb trees when I was young. Quite a lot. But one day after a heavy storm...I think I was ten?...I slipped and landed badly, right on top of my wrist. I heard it crack and then suddenly...there it was. I noticed the changes and hurled myself into the forest as fast as I could before anyone could see me. Sat under a tree for a couple of hours, trying to figure out what happened. Then I realized that my arm was feeling better until eventually it didn't hurt at all. The changes went away soon after."

Everything had been so chaotic back then, nothing made sense anymore. The world had been turned on its head. And you had suddenly been given new rules to play by in hopes of keeping a secret you hadn't really known how to keep at the time.

"I stayed in the woods a while longer, not really sure what to do, worried it would come back. I was getting hungry and it was getting dark and cold, so that helped me make up my mind. I went back and...adapted. I couldn't let anyone see that side of me. People who are different aren't treated all that kindly. And I'm as different as they come, to say the least."

Otto frowns, expression lightly sullen before he points out the inevitable, "But you were found."

You hesitate a moment before relenting, "Mhm. When I was twelve years old a man broke the rules and faced the consequences. I suppose I did too, in a way."

A vague explanation. But it was something, some small piece of the puzzle.

The brothers had been wondering when and how you had gotten the attention of the Commission for recruitment. It was extremely rare, but sometimes adults with abilities were considered. However given your current role, perhaps it was decided you weren't fit for field or office work? It was very strange that the company would go out of its way to accommodate you like this, pretty much unheard of. Why would the Commission even consider this sort of work in the first place? The concerns of their employees are seldom acknowledged, so this was a little absurd.

Axel addresses this, "Your role in the Commission, how did it happen?"

The raised eyebrow you throw at him says it all; you've answered this question before, multiple times. What is he expecting to find?

He rephrases, "Not the usual work, instead they offer you this role in particular. Completely new role. Why?"

Mild surprise crosses your features; that's a good question, and given the previous conversation it shows they've still been wondering how your ability could possibly play a part in the Commission's interest in you. Not that you had expected them to drop it completely.

You give an honest answer.

"They most likely didn't think I was fit for any other role, maybe didn't trust me on the field given the nature of my ability. Can you imagine what would happen if I was on a mission and had my ability recorded and distributed? Sure they could probably cover it up as a hoax, but still! The sheer scale of the mess they'd have to clean up, the paperwork alone would be a nightmare. There's only so much I can do to prevent my changes. Besides, my 2nd Phase isn't the most...subtle."

A short wry laugh leaves your lips as you continue, "All in all, I think I'd be more trouble than I'd be worth. As for a desk job...well....could you imagine yourselves working in an office, stapling, photocopying, pushing papers for a living?"

Axel gives a huff of a laugh as his brothers grimace in disgust. Point taken.

"No offense to the people who do that sort of thing. And I do have to research and take notes when I'm taking care of my animals and my home, so there's still an aspect of that. But those lines of work weren't even offered. It was either this or..."

Oscar's brow furrows, "..Or?"

"..or basically be seen as an anomaly myself and responded to as such."

There's a pregnant pause as the brothers uncomfortably consider the choice given to you. It wasn't all that odd, the company has been known to strong-arm some prospective agents. But the choices given to you at the time, to die or become, of all things, an animal caretaker? That was bizarre.

Perhaps there was something they weren't seeing.

You sigh in response to their silence, "I can understand how they would be concerned that I might one day become a threat. I can't expect them to just leave it to chance."

Oscar nudges your leg with an elbow, prompting you to turn your attention to him.

"Trust issues."

With a smile you return the nudge with your knee, giggling when he curls his arm around your lower leg for a possessive squeeze, "I think that's something every powerful corporation has in common."

Another rumble of thunder has you peering at the window; it would seem the storm has grown a bit, if the considerable amount of rain assaulting the glass isn't evidence enough. Nothing too bad though.

A brush to your arm redirects your attention; Axel pulls his hand back, resting it on his thigh as he asks what your request is.

The butterflies are back, despite your best efforts.

"Like I said, it's a little strange."

You peer down at your hands, pushing yourself onwards, "If I am overstepping boundaries, please let me know, but...it has to do with my condition. Last night was fairly bad, so I want to see if I can keep it from getting to such a point. At least until I can find something more permanent."

Professional. That's what this has to be, what you have to be. Otherwise your face is going to erupt into flames.

Their eyes on you are heavy, quizzical yet patient. Otto's suspicions, however, are quickly being aroused.

"So..seeing as how...physical contact works? That's what I'm asking for."

There. It's out. Now it's up to them.

And yet you can't help but still feel a bit...twitchy. On edge. It's as if something has changed, the air feels almost...charged.

The eldest brother throws professionalism out the window.

"You want us to touch you?"

Axel's question is murmured softly, yet the way it pierces your heart is in clear contrast. His words slide over your skin and between your legs in a provocative tingle.

The deer in headlights look that you sport is too charming. The brothers half-expect you to scold their older brother's subtly vulgar teasing, but to their surprise after a second you're heaving a heavy sigh and nodding.

"Basically, yes."

With a huff you defend your request, "Otherwise I will most likely be hoarding all the hot drinks in this house and waking you all up late in the night."

You don't know for sure if it would work, as even without the chill of winter you had still needed a warm embrace. Otto's hands on you hadn't been enough. Your body had insisted on more to the point that you had thrown caution to the wind, scooted in close, and wrapped your arms around his neck. Still you had hope that even if this didn't work completely, you could still greatly delay reaching that point.

Oscar peers out the window at the weather; Fall is approaching, and thus an even bigger issue for your condition is looming on the horizon, "Winter?"

"Okay so..when the cold season comes...I have a feeling I'd need more..of...um," your hand rises to sheepishly rub your brow, "..of what happened with you, Otto."

Otto perks up, but masks his interest as he considers your approaching problem with a serious disposition, all while recalling the weight of you in his arms as he carried you, how snuggly you had pressed to him as you slept. He knew he wouldn't mind a repeat. He knew his brothers wouldn't mind having you wrapped around them either.

The youngest can't resist teasing, "You liked sleeping with Otto? Want us too? Girig tjej."

Flustered but cautiously optimistic that they hadn't refused yet, you murmur, "Only if you're all comfortable with it. It was nice being able to sleep through the night."

A soft tug on a lock of your hair gives Axel your full attention. He lightly strokes the wisps between thumb and forefinger, watching the strands separate and gather back together before his eyes bore into yours. His hand leaves your hair to return once more to his thigh, "We will help. If you are reaching limit, you tell us."

Little did you know, the brothers had already been planning on having this little chat about your condition with you. You have been good to them, so they had wanted to return the favor. Eye for an eye. They had originally planned on inquiring about space heaters or fireplaces but are quite pleased with the direction the conversation went instead. Perhaps they could bring up the other methods at a..better time.

Before you can thank the three or ask them about any other questions, you jolt, feeling a hand cup your calf and slide up.

You blink down at the top of the culprit's head, a fluttery emotion curling lightly in your chest.

"..Oscar?"

His hand softly squeezes as its owner turns to look at you, your leggings, and then back to you before he asks, "Different?"

...You have got to be kidding.

Realization dusts your cheeks pink, "Oh! Yes, uh..the water."

Otto tilts his head, regarding your clothing with curiosity.

Your change of leggings have been noticed. It's fine. This is fine. Everything is..

The question the youngest asks you is innocence peppered with a tinge of pseudo guilt, "I got you wet?"

Fudge.

He did. But it wasn't just him.

Fighting to keep your tone under control, you respond, "Just a little, you were still a bit damp from outside."

But if that was the case, why hadn't you also changed your dress? You pray they avoid that little detail.

Oscar gleefully waits for his brothers to catch up.

The two confused siblings eye your returning flush with mild interest before suspicion transitions quickly to hesitant disbelief.

Otto's eyes flash from your face to your lap and back up, fingers twitching as stubborn questions demand his utmost attention; how wet had you been? Could you have taken a finger? Two? With lidded eyes and red face, he directs his gaze away to the window in hopes of a distraction. It doesn't work.

Axel's breath catches and holds in his lungs, jaw tense as he recalls the slight almost imperceptible wobble of your legs when Otto had helped you remove yourself from them. Lustful frustration flares his nostrils as his own traitorous mind proposes a rhetorical question and also supplies possible answers; what had you done after you had escaped to your room? Ignored your body's need or...

Oscar glances from your face to his brothers and smirks. Mission clearly accomplished. As for whether or not their teasing had resulted in a wet pair of panties...well. The image itself is potent enough that his curiosity is sated. However he does allow himself a moment to wonder about that little article of clothing; the color, the texture, bows or lace, maybe both?

Still feigning innocence, the man slips his hand down your calf to wrap loosely around your ankle. He leans in and plants a quick kiss at the side of your knee, an action that immediately draws a reaction. As well as the attention of his brothers. The tension in the siblings is quickly reaching its limit; fraying and delicate, demanding to snap.

Bashful, you wiggle your leg but he refuses to grant you freedom, "You'll have to let go eventually, you know."

Tutting softly, Oscar coos, "Thought you wanted more touch? For cold."

Glancing up and down his bare upper torso, you say ever so matter-of-factly, "If anyone's cold right now, it's you Mister."

With a daring move, you rip a couple of fibers of that fragile thread yourself; sliding your hands deep into the folds of the quilt on your lap, you lunge. Before Oscar can react, still distracted by alluring thoughts of you, he's being smothered by the thick, soft material. It's for his own good, don't want him getting sick, after all.

Your ankle is released as the younger brother flails beneath, all the while snarling ferociously yet ineffectively. Grasping a throw pillow to use as a shield, you lift your legs up to the cushions and shuffle away from him and closer to Axel. You hadn't even noticed that the eldest had moved his arm up to the top of the sofa and was watching amused as you pressed right into his side.

Biting your lip to smother your laughter, you watch as Oscar finally breaks free from his prison; hair disheveled and face scrunched, he twists to stare you down, quilt dangling from his shoulder. Before he can get a foot under him to stand, a pillow beams him in the side of the head with wicked speed and accuracy, almost knocking the youngest off balance.

Axel takes a moment to admire Otto's throw before returning his attention to you, his face inches away. Your arm is wrapped tight around your plush shield, hugging it to you as you bury your giggles behind your free hand. He breathes deep, each breath filling his lungs with apples and cinnamon, good enough to eat.

Oscar glowers indignantly at Otto as a flash of lightning splits the air, followed quickly by a noisy crack of thunder. The brothers tilt their heads up to listen, distracted by the storm and then by the orange feline voicing her unhappiness on Otto's lap. You blink, registering where exactly you are...it's going to take some time to get used to being in close contact with them. Your thoughts are interrupted as the scent of cedar and sage drifts into your senses and warms your belly, the warmth of the man at your side now burning hot.

What have you gotten yourself into.

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Kattungar- Kittens

Girig tjej- Greedy girl

[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.