TEXTS â BECVID
Becca: I'm sorry? Do I know what you're talking about?
David: Don't joke around like that. You and me, at the ball? It was magical. The most fun I've had in a long time. Surely you agree?
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@davidfairest
TEXTS â BECVID
Becca: I'm sorry? Do I know what you're talking about?
David: Don't joke around like that. You and me, at the ball? It was magical. The most fun I've had in a long time. Surely you agree?
emilyofneverland:
Emilyâs breath hitched in her throat when he actually kissed her; she wasnât sure why she was shocked, she looked beautiful and sheâd felt the electricity between them all evening long. But his lips were soft and sent tingles up her spine, and she supposed she must just be an excellent kisser, to feel this kind of magic when sheâd kissed David and again now, kissing a completely perfect stranger. The world around her slowed down, and they might have kissed for ten seconds or ten minutes, she wasnât sure; the glitz and glamor of the masquerade all faded away in the face of what might actually be true loveâs kiss this time. And yet, as she wistfully broke their contact and let her hand linger on his cheek, grazing softly across his skin, Emilyâs bubble ebbed away and she immediately wondered how David might react to this later, when she told him what sheâd done. Would he be jealous? Her stomach did a flip at the hope that he would be, but tonight she meant to have fun, to bury all thoughts of the man who refused to step up and prove his love for her, so she used the cheek she still cupped to pull her mysterious suitor closer again, welcoming the blissful blankness in her mind as the physical pleasure of kissing Sherlock Holmes took over again.Â
It wasnât comparable to his kiss with Emily. It couldnât be, because it didnât exist in a plane where it could be measured that way. It existed as a feeling of warmth in his chest and David imagined it felt like his heart was glowing or something ridiculous and cheesy and romantic like that. His thoughts snagged on Emily and it was almost enough to pull away, it almost felt wrong, but it was anger at first that kept him close to the princessâs lips, anger and then pure bliss. Emily couldâve had this if she wanted. Heâd given her ample opportunity and maybe when he told her about this later itâd make her jealous enough to realize he was what she always wanted. And if it didnât, that might be okay too, because if he had this kind of chemistry with Becca then it might be worth exploring their old friendship to see if it had any new tricks. The thought of an exciting new future made his stomach flip flop, and as she pulled away he wondered if he should comment on it, on this uncharted territory, but kissing was much nicer, and as she recaptured his lips, he decided to just for once let something happen. He had to pull away again after a few moments, though, almost dizzy from the high of it all. It occurred to him that he couldâve stood there forever kissing her, and so he had to go. âUntil we meet again,â he breathed unsteadily, smiling and leaning back in to plant one last quick kiss to her lips, one last moment, before departing. Leaving the night on a high was the best way to go, and his heart thumped excitedly, thinking of the robe and the essential oils and the absolute joy that was waiting for him at home where he could lay in comfort and play this night over and over again in his head.
TEXTS â BECVID
David: I've tried to be patient and let you approach me but I can't wait any longer! We need to talk about what happened at the masquerade, Becca.
emilyofneverland:
Emily could feel heat in her cheeks as he stared at her, and her heart caught in her throat, like no sensation sheâd ever known before â well, that wasnât quite accurate. Sheâd felt it once before, at least only once quite so strongly, and it had been right before the kiss that had changed the entire course of her life, at least in her own mind. Was she about to be kissed again? The fire she felt between them, the way his eyes bore into her, she almost thought⊠but then the moment was passed, and she was spinning outwards instead, the cool air around her helping her cheeks return to their normal pallor, letting her catch her breath even though under normal circumstances the physical exertion might have made someone else more tired. The safety of the spin turned into a dip, though, and she couldnât help but feel that the moment was perhaps more intimate than heâd intended for it to be. She bit her lip, her eyes dropping down to his mouth as she wondered if kissing him on the dance floor was classy or tacky⊠and then, in spite of herself, found herself uttering, âSherlock Holmes was never afraid to take his prize when he solved a case, was he? You shouldnât be either.â
It was good to have her away from him, good to have her swirling outwards and to have cold air hit his face, because otherwise he might have done something ridiculous. Kissing someone at a masquerade, someone who had a boyfriend no less, wasnât classy. It was spontaneous, though, and romantic and burning his insides, and hard to shake the image of in his head. He supposed heâd been a homewrecker already, hadnât he? Of his own accord, that New Yearâs, when heâd made quite a scene without even trying to, for once. Not that that was running through his mind, not that he was mindful of anything except how close the princessâs lips were. And she spoke, and she egged him on, she really did, and what did it mean if she was feeling it too? Maybe it meant this was meant to happen, that it was meant to be this way, and the strange feeling of fate pushing the shots propelled David the necessary inches forward before enveloping her mouth in his, supporting her head with his free hand, and feeling every single spark and rush and everything he ever thought heâd felt to the forefront again. He wanted to say something clever in reference to his costume or hers, but his brain was quite quiet in the face of this new development.
emilyofneverland:
As she got swept up in the music and the feel of having Sherlock Holmesâs arms around her, Emily forgot to worry about who her charming companion might think she was, or about what David might be doing right now, or any of the other distracting thoughts from earlier. They all washed away as she lost herself in the rhythm and the romance â was it romantic? If it wasnât to him, it certainly was in her own head. A handsome stranger to dance the night away with, flawless dance moves â they were sure to be the envy of the whole entire room, but she didnât care if everyone elseâs eyes were on them, so long as his never left her. âIâd imagine weâre making everyone else in the room jealous by now⊠letâs keep it up, shall we?â Emily said, her voice husky from disuse. Perhaps she should have said nothing at all, but she couldnât resist just a little bit of gloating.
It was like dancing in a fairytale. There was something unbeatable about feeling like a winner, of course, but that wasnât even the strongest feeling coursing through Davidâs body as he led his blonde princess through a song. What was even stronger was the sense that they were at a pivotal moment in their story, that she was a princess and he was a prince and they were connecting on the dance floor in a way heâd seldom experienced. He could only really equate it to the kiss he and Emily had shared long ago, slightly tipsy on fairy champagne and each other - but why was he feeling that now? Was it possible he wanted to kiss Becca? It was certainly a romantic thing, dancing, so maybe his body and brain were confused because Becca had a boyfriend, but as he kept looking at her and as she spoke up, her voice like music to his ears, he had to actively stop himself from leaning forward and planting on one her at that moment. Goodness. He was really under her spell. âI couldnât have said it better myself,â he grinned, choosing instead to spin her and dip her dramatically at the climax of the song. They had to be the two brightest points in the room right then and there.
emilyofneverland:
âI canât say Iâd be particularly perturbed by it,â Emily confessed, impressed by this manâs confidence. So many of her classmates were boys, either doubting themselves or pretending to because they thought it would garner⊠attention? Pity? She didnât understand people feeling sorry for themselves for all the world to see, especially not as a first impression, and she found herself charmed more and more by her prince every passing minute. Maybe there were more boys in the world than stupid David of stupid Charmington; ones who could appreciate her from the offset and not be afraid to show her off to the whole world or fight for her affections, as long as it took. âI can think of nothing Iâd like better,â she agreed, glad that sheâd trained so hard to be a good dancer and to blend in among the royals despite the fact that she wasnât one herself.
He laughed but nodded his head gratefully - there was something about masks he supposed that made talking even easier. It was almost how heâd felt with Becca before Oliver and Emily and Zoe and everything had gone down between them, effortless for him with the guarantee of a sure thing. He knew Becca wasnât the best dancer, but surely with himself as the lead itâd be spectacular enough; right off the bat, though, it was more than heâd expected. She had rhythm and good form and if heâd been able to look away from them for a moment, he was sure he wouldnât have found anyone moving better. It couldâve been just in his head, but just in his head was a good place to be right now, just him and her, this gorgeous blonde princess.
emilyofneverland:
Emily arched an eyebrow at her suitor, wondering if heâd had an abrupt change of heart and sought to get rid of her, or if heâd just decided she was too wonderful to let slip away and had to know that he wouldnât be losing her at any moment now. âWhy, who else in the room could possibly be a better dancer than this?â she asked curiously, charmed by how well-mannered and clearly well trained he was. For a minute she wondered if he could best even David with his dancing, but the thought made uncomfortableness pool in the pit of her stomach and that certainly wasnât the best thing to have going against her if she wanted to charm him. âDoes the same apply to you, then? Are you worried Iâll be left all alone when you flee to find your⊠Lady Sherlock, or whoever she is, later?â
âWill it sound conceited if I say no one?â he joked. It wasnât really much of a joke, considering what high esteem he held himself in and how he very much meant it, but it was hard not to feel like being jocular in her presence. âOh, no, there is no Lady Sherlock. You know, the true mystery might be how we ended up coming here solo but I guess some things happen for a reason.â How lucky he was to wind up with a friend to make him feel better about not having the princess of his dreams locked down by now. The song picked up and more people started heading to the dance floor, and he grinned eagerly at the change of pace. âWhat say we show them how itâs done?âÂ
emilyofneverland:Â
The first thing that popped into Emilyâs mind when he said they went together was that wretched song from Grease with the made up words â what in Beastâs name was a ramma-lamma-lamma-ka-dingety-ding-de-dong? She couldnât let her handsome prince hear her saying such ridiculous things on a night when she wanted to exude elegance; hardly a soul got to see her dorkier side, Trevor and sometimes David, that was really all. âYou fit like a glove,â she said instead, offering her gloved hand to the confident prince who surely was wrong about her identity, but she didnât mind. If he seemed so entranced by whoever he thought she might be, perhaps heâd be equally entranced by the real thing at nightâs end should their masks come off. âDimitri took his sweet time being worthy of her affections, anyway; I see no harm in enjoying myself while I wait for him to catch up,â she cooed, letting him take her hand and waiting for him to take the lead, as any good prince should.
He wondered if she was talking about Oliver and using Dimitriâs name instead - their relationship was obviously weirder now and maybe she was waiting for him to catch up, so to speak; it just made David feel less guilty about flirting with his friend. He took her hand gently but firmly like a real gentleman should, walking her out onto the floor. He was glad that it was a ballroom kind of song - in his own not-so-humble opinion, he had the best frame of all the boys in the kingdom, even better than King Will. It was easy enough to get lost in the steps and the motion, and yet David looked around for a beat, feeling oddly guilty as if he expected to see Emily around. It was her fault that they werenât a couple, he had nothing to feel guilty about, and yet he kept picturing her face. He also imagined Oliver for a second but felt much less guilty about that one. "I hope Iâm not keeping you from anyone youâd rather be dancing with, or even worse, ruining your odds of finding another satisfactory partner by raising the bar too high,â he smiled. He knew it probably sounded like a joke but he meant it.
emilyofneverland:
Emily raised her glass up to meet her handsome prince â well, detective for the evening, she supposed â in a toast, agreeing, âItâs the only way to live, really.â Then she brought her cup gently to her lips, taking the tiniest of sips and hoping it wouldnât stain her lips or worse, remove the color sheâd so painstakingly places there and leave it on the rim of the cup instead in the tackiest of manners.Â
âAnd youâve figured out my name, have you, Mr. Holmes?â she asked curiously, finding that unlikely. Emily found that not nearly as many people as should know her seemed to, and it wasnât as though sheâd stumbled across David on a night such as this one, not when she was going so out of her way to find someone new to appreciate her instead. âWhy, Iâm a mystery, of course,â she added, realizing she hadnât actually considered being an actual character; sheâd wanted an excuse to look beautiful, nothing more, nothing less, and it was the one night a year where she could wear purple without all those dreadful comparisons to droll princess Becca. âAlthough I suppose one day Iâll figure out that Iâm the lost princess Anastasia, her gown when she meets her grandmere at the ballet is nearly as stunning as mine, is it not?â
âOf course I have! Iâm a detective, you know. Itâs my job to figure out those sorts of things,â David laughed. Figuring out it had been Becca was hardly the work of a gumshoe but it was more fun to play along, more fun to play the part. Maybe it was the magic of the evening truly wiping their identities as much as it could, but it was freeing. âYouâre a mystery and Iâm a detective. Some might say those go together,â he grinned, feeling his guard settle down all the way. His chest felt a bit tight and that made him realize he was flirting. Flirting! With Becca, of all people - it made sense, though. Without even knowing what the other one would be dressed as, theyâd matched, sort of. In a very flimsy way, to be sure, but it was enough to comfort David and let him know that Becca was the person who knew him best, even after all this time. And besides, they werenât really David and Becca tonight. If he wanted to flirt a little, it wouldnât kill anyone. âAnastasia, then.â He smiled, admiring the gown as he looked her up and down. âStunningâs the right word. My princess, I know Iâm no Dimitri, but might you honor me with a dance?â he asked, holding out a hopeful hand.
emilyofneverland:
Emily couldnât help but smirk when someone nearly instantly arrived at her side, already having an extra punch for her and everything. This was how a girl deserved to be treated â like a beautiful princess. Not like a thing to be taken for granted or to be the âeasyâ option, but like something that boys would bend over backwards to make feel special. Emilyâs shoulders slackened, some of the nervousness that she wouldnât be approached after all easing out of her shoulders, and she batted her eyelashes at her new suitor, saying, âIâve never really understood people who use this day as an excuse to be less than their best, have you?â
She tossed a stray curl over her shoulder, fixing her eyes on him as she asked, âAnd who, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of being in the company of at the moment? Not your real identity, of course, but I wouldnât want to embarrass myself assuming Iâm in the company of one fictional character only to go home later and find you were another one entirely.â
It was unusual, to be so sure of who he was talking to and still be unable to distinguish her features from any other beautiful blonde in the world. Fairy Godmother clearly hadnât lost her touch, and David found himself worrying for a second if he looked as handsome as he did without the magic - the way Becca was fluttering her lashes had him exhale a sigh of relief about it, while a little question mark went off in his brain about whether his old friend was flirting with him or not. She always had been a lash flutterer. âItâs an excuse to go all out! What more do people want?â he agreed with a smile, holding his cup out asking for a clink. âTo going all out.â
He was about to ask if she really didnât already know who he was, but when she specified to know what character he was, it made more sense. âAh. Of course. You may refer to me as Sherlock Holmes, fair maiden. And what do I have the pleasure of calling you? Aside from your name, obviously,â he grinned, trying to key Becca in to the fact that he knew who she was, âand aside from âthe best dressed girl in this whole placeâ.â
Emily simply couldnât believe that it was nearly November; another year had gone by and she found herself single on another Halloween. After his extravagant promposal, sheâd been so sure that an official DTR was coming from David, yet his efforts had trailed off. Theyâd stayed companionable, of course, but it was as if he thought one show of affection was enough to make up for his scorn of fairies, his public embarrassment at her New Yearâs party⊠all of it. Now, after months of sitting around and waiting, she was sick of it. Sheâd dressed up in the loveliest of purple gowns, she had on a beautiful mask, her blonde hair cascaded down her back in curls⊠and she waited a tasteful distance from the punch bowl, sure that tonight someone with a bit more sense than Prince David would finally set his sights on her and start Emily towards her happily ever afterâŠ
@davidfairest
It had been months since prom, and despite all of Davidâs idyllically crafted plans, here he was, dressed to the nines in a beautifully tailored tweed suit and matching cap - heâd do the bare minimum for costumes when his face and name werenât attached to the creation and Sherlock Holmes seemed easy enough - with no one on his arm. It simply wasnât right, but after months of chasing Emily, his feet were bound to get tired. Did it mean she wanted to be his wife or not? Was she over it? And if she was, how much time should he waste before trying different princesses?
Luckily, almost as soon as he entered the dance he spotted whom he thought was Princess Becca in her traditional purple, with her hair curled down her back. Overcome with relief over the idea of not having to try to talk himself up to people that were more or less strangers, David grabbed two cups of punch and hurried over to her, handing one in her direction. âBeast, you look incredible,â he laughed, feeling more himself instantly next to his lifelong best friend. He was almost surprised that she wasnât out there looking for Oliver, but anyone who paid even the littlest bit of attention, like David, would know that was a bit tense. âBut not much of a costume, is it? âBeautiful princessâ is so expected.â
The Human League - Donât You Want MeÂ
leounderthesea :
Sometimes hate is jealousy, but believe me, I come from a way more hateful place than here, and sometimes? Hate is just hate. Yeah, I have no trouble with the sleeping thing, I could probably sleep on a rock and not waste a single minute falling asleep, but thanks for the advice I donât need. Emilyâs a non-option, huh? You might want to tell her that, Iâm not sure she got the memo. Yeah, thatâs not supposed to be how love works â I donât even come from a place where people know what love is, but Iâve figured out enough being in Auradon to know it that thereâs no like, calling dibs, people just fall in it or they donât. Or itâs a hate crime against gay people, you really wanna test it and see how people spin it? Like your New Yearâs disaster, I saw that on Gracebook. Nice proposal fail, bro, it might be one of the worst of all time.
Oh, what do you know? What was there even to be jealous of on the Isle? Whoâs pile of trash was the biggest? Who could go the longest without getting mugged? Honestly. Emilyâs a non-option to you; sheâs, of course, free to choose whichever man will be the luckiest in Auradon to have the pleasure of her company, but you have nothing to offer and she deserves better so no, she is a non-option to you. Yes, well, the way we look at love is changing all the time, apparently. Perhaps none of us have it truly figured it out but I like to think most of us are learning. People who have the audacity to slander me and label my opinions a âhate crimeâ would have nothing to argue with - everyone knows Iâve never been a fan of Blake, even before I knew there was anything askew with his sexuality, a person can be ill-suited for a crown based on who they are as a person, but my opinion on that isnât as important as King Willâs obviously; however, weâll all have to live with that decision. As nice as it is to be the best at something, itâs equally striking to be the worst - Iâve decided I donât like it and can only hope someone else proposes soon and fails miserably.Â
emilyofneverland :
Did you, now? How very kind of you, I look forward to seeing this color wheel as I work on preparing my summer wardrobe. School ending is just around the corner, Iâll need an entirely different style for when Iâm free from the walls of Auradon Prep. Youâre a kind friend, for finding benefits to her pallor. Yes, I certainly hope so as well, although are there many people that fit criteria? Perhaps you can help coach someone in what might be a proper way to ask me, if youâre feeling particularly helpful in the spirit of prom.
I had some spare time while I was playing hooky from school like the occasional bad boy I can be, and color schemes are a worthwhile endevour, are they not? Your natural style already steers you in the right direction, but hopefully itâll serve as some sort of inspiration. Speaking of summer style, I need an expert opinion - rompers for men, in or out? Youâre a kind friend, for saying so. A proper way to ask you to prom... I think I might be able to whip something up thatâs worthy of your time and attention.
blakeofthejungle :
Explains why youâre kinda blind about it, since you love yourself so much; thanks for the explanation, dude, itâs very helpful. Thereâs still college and like, the time before you have babies to take care of. Thereâs a lot of other life ending occasions for you to look forward to in the future. Uh huh⊠well, people paying attention on the internet might notice your roomie saying some odd stuff that makes it seem like she thinks sheâs up for grabs, so kudos, I guess it really is a surprise. You should throw more surprise parties if youâre th is good at hiding stuff. Auradon City parties are gonna be lit, donât be boring. Youâll still be invited to them if you promise to try to be fun.
My goal was always to start having babies while in college, actually; thatâs what I projected would happen anyway, but Iâm allowing for unforseen events to change the course. I donât see how you can see any of those things as life ending - thatâs when life, true adult real life, really starts! It sounds wonderful, if you ask me. As you said, sheâs just my gorgeous roommate as of right now; it would literally kill me with shock if no one else realized how great of an option she is, so thatâs hardly surprising, but itâs fun being hopeful for a change. What does âpromise to try to be funâ entail exactly?
beccaofcorona :
But I donât want long lines of visitors feeling sorry for me, I just want to be with the people who matter most⊠although the âpractically moved inâ thing might be nice. Not that he should have to take care of me, weâre not married yet or anything, but having him around all the time just sounds so nice. You have to walk outside sometimes, though, unless there are hidden tunnels to Charmington that I know nothing about from Auradon Prep. Brain stress feels more likely, but Iâm glad whatever the circumstances are that youâre feeling more comfortable now. No one should ever miss that much school consecutively! Does it make you feel better if I remind you there her mother was a queen, albeit a villain one? Iâm not sure thatâs appropriate for the lit mag but maybe you can write an intro for the whole thing? And, you know, not about makeup?
Living together is certainly exciting! If you enjoy his company that much then I canât imagine how it wonât be grand for you; I wonder if sharing a room is more stressful, though. Has he seen you without makeup yet? Because that definitely adds to the stress levels, in my opinion. I walk outside sometimes, but I much prefer to take a car from place to place, and the windows on our cars are gloriously tinted to protect from the sunâs harsh waves. Honestly? I didnât hate missing school so much. You might have been miserable but I donât think thereâs much for me to learn in that place. That does make me feel better, though, about the royalty status, although it shouldnât; itâs not where you were born that defines you, I keep reminding myself, itâs where you end up, so if Kelsey marries a prince (or princess?) sheâll be fine. Ugh, fiiine, Iâll give it a try - if someone else writes something better though donât hesitate to use it.