#i forgot you can only put ten pictures in a set

[womenloverlmao]

Forgot Something?

(Yes, someone else has probably written this but I decided to write one of my own :)

TW: normal criminal minds shit.

Summary: Reader is set on the fact that Spencer forgot something when he got called into a case late but he cant figure out what that could be.

Imagine season 4 Spence? Possibly? I don't even know man. 

You and Spencer had gotten used to not always being together. You and agent… or, rather, Dr. Spencer Reid, resident genius and pretty boy of the BAU had been together for around a year and a half. It was a lot, but you grew used to it. 

After coming to terms with the fact that you wouldn’t always have your boyfriend around, you learned to value the time you spent with him. Moments like this; you were curled up together, the result of coaxing your germaphobe out of his comfort zone (and into another). Lying on your sides, his head against your chest with your leg over his waist. You would have fallen asleep there if it weren’t for that sound. 

Oh, that God-forsaken sound. 

The sound of Spencer’s phone going off. Sure, you were used to him going away for cases, but that sound honestly caused a trauma response. You removed your leg from him as he went to get his phone from the bedside table. He picked up, and said some stereotypical responses… well, the stereotype when you went to work on profiling rapists, bombers, murderers… you get the gist. 

He got up and changed, before grabbing his bag that he always had ready. You quickly followed behind him. Sure, you were only in a ragged t-shirt and panties, but you weren’t the one leaving. It was around ten at night. You wouldn’t have realized that he had muted himself if you didn’t see him unmuting. “Yes, I’ll be there in fifteen,” he said. “Okay, thank you. Got it.” 

You grabbed your arm as whoever it was on the other end hung up. “I’m sorry…” he tried to start. 

“No, don’t apologize, Spence. It’s your job. I’m not upset, I promise,” you cut him off. 

“I still feel awful.” 

“Don’t. You’re gonna go save some people, or whatever it is that you do,” you smile. 

“Well, technically-” 

“Spence, I’m gonna repeat the ‘don’t’. Go do your job, okay, baby?” 

He sighed. “Okay…” He walked to the door, almost opening it before you stop him. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked. 

“I thought- I thought you just told me to do my job?” He responded. 

“I did, but not when you forgot something.” 

You could see the gears in his brain turning as he tried to remember what it was that he could have forgotten. There was nothing, he had every single thing in his bag. He could so clearly picture everything he had put in there. “Forgot something? No, I have an-” 

“Eidetic memory, I know.”

“I didn’t forget anything?” 

“Yes, you did,” you stayed on your point. 

“What did I forget?” He was genuinely confused. 

You rolled your eyes. “Where’s my kiss, Spencer?” 

He had an ‘oh shit’ moment in his head. “That’s… what I forgot?” 

You nodded. He couldn’t help but laugh a little, you had him fully convinced he forgot something for a minute. He walks over again and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Better?” he asks.

“Yep.” You smiled. 

He kissed your forehead. “I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Make sure to check if all the-” “Windows are locked, I know,” you said. 

He reached the door, and he was mildly hesitant to open it. “I’ll be okay,” you assured him. 

“I know, I just…” “I can stay with my parents, too, if that’ll make you feel better.” 

“It’s not about that, I just sometimes wish that I could be here with you,” he admitted. 

You walked over to him, giving him one final kiss. “I know, but they need you out there. I can last a couple of days on my own every week.” He calmed down after the kiss. “Okay.” 

“Now, go, you’re gonna be late.” 

“I love you,” he told you again. 

“I know, I love you too,” you responded. He walked out of the apartment, leaving you alone. Yes, it was upsetting to be alone most of the time. You locked the door and made sure the windows were locked before you laid down again. 

Sure, lonely nights were sucky, but… you knew it was for a reason. And no matter what, you were grateful to have Dr. Spencer Reid as your boyfriend.

[mochalate]

[3] new notification!

msby!atsumuxreader || w/c: 1.1k + 1 min of video (yes, video.) chocolate chip cookies are the way to a guy's heart. (everyone knows that!) a/n: wow I thought I wouldn't post anything this week, but one really good chocolate cake later, I felt alive. Perhaps Atsumu and I are more similar than I thought. 🔔Please use full screen for the video!

[<-chapter 2][chapter 4->] ||[start from intro][masterlist]

Back when you were still at university, you had a part time job at the campus gym. Legally, you weren’t allowed to call yourself a nutritionist at that point, but that’s what you did. It was never anything complicated— the hardest thing had been managing expectations. 

No, you won’t have noticeable muscle definition in a month. 

Yes, you’ll need quite a bit longer than a week to lose ten kilos.

That will give you results, but perhaps a more sustainable plan?

So yes, expectations. You’re in a career chock-full of them. You’re good at managing them. Even when it’s hard.

Or so you’d thought.

Can I keep starin’? 

(Could it really be that easy?)

With four words, Atsumu Miya had ripped open the top of that flimsy cardboard box you’d oh-so-carefully stuffed your expectations in, and now you were struggling to (convince yourself to) put them back in. For the last few hours, you’ve been fiddling with that metaphorical scotch-tape, not quite daring to believe he could be interested in you— and yet unable to let go of that fantasy.

Was it a fantasy? 

You can still picture his flushed-red face, the anticipation and anxiety in his eyes. It wasn’t the kind of look you expected from a flirty joke.

Or…

It's when Osamu has to stop you from trying to grab the piping hot handle of a cast iron pan for the second time that you realise you need to come back to your senses.

“Osamu,” you ask, timidly. “Can I ask you something? It’s about Atsumu.”

Osamu turns down the flame on the burner, and looks at you. His face is neutral— some people went as far as calling those droopy grey eyes of his ‘expressionless’, but you preferred to think of them as steady. Osamu always said it like it was. 

He’s going to give you the reality check you so obviously need.

“How stupid am I for thinking I have a chance with Atsumu?”

You brace yourself for a scathing reply. Perhaps, ‘Next time, I won’t stop ya from burning yourself.’ Or maybe, “That oaf? Sorry, the only thing he’s attracted to is balls. Volleyballs, that is.”

What he does instead, is sigh heavily, and a little exasperatedly. 

“Did ya two idiots finally figure it out?”

Your heart skips a beat. “What?”

“You heard me,” Osamu says, turning up the flame once more. He stirs the simmering broth as he speaks. “He’s been actin’ stupid all week. And you’ve been actin’ stupid around him for a while.”

Oh. Oh.

There’s no way you’re ever putting those expectations away ever again, because that stupid box is all soggy at the bottom now. Soggy, because the raging mix of relief and happiness swirling around in your chest— the weight lifted off your shoulders because you don’t have to pretend anymore—  is making you tear up. 

Osamu hears you sniffle. 

“Aw, c’mon,” he says, tapping off the broth and setting the spoon beside the stove, “you know he isn’t worth cryin' over.” There’s a cheeky grin on his face, as he brings his large hands up to your face, wiping away the tears. “Want me to beat him up for ya?”

(You think he really might be your best friend.)

“You’re just looking for an excuse to!” You say, pulling his hands away as you laugh. 

He holds them up in mock defence. “Hey, two birds and all. Are you going call him?”

You’re already scrambling inside your purse. “I… think I forgot my phone at work.” 

He clicks his tongue. “I take it back, yer perfect for each other.”

“Hey!” You say it indignantly, but his words make you feel warm. Perfect for each other. “Can I borrow your phone? Would that be weird?”

“He’d make it weird,” Osamu scoffs. “Just go over.”

“I— I should bring him something.”

He makes an amused expression. “Okay.”

“I don’t know what.”

“Are you asking me for help?”

You make your best puppy face. “Please?”

Osamu sighs. “Well, he’s been complainin’ about those raisin bran cookies for weeks now…”

“I think it would be best if you don’t say anything. Just let it blow over,” the publicist says. She’s using the speakerphone, and her voice sounds far away. Atsumu can hear the clack of keyboard keys in the background. “I mean it, Miya. Log out of everything. No, uninstall everything.”

“Don’t ya trust me even a little bit?” Atsumu asks. He tries to sound teasing, but his heart isn’t in it.

“No,” she says bluntly. The call goes blank.

Atsumu collapses back on to his bed, legs hanging over the edge. He holds his phone up over his face, staring at the ‘call ended’ until the screen turns itself off, and then sighs heavily.

It’s not that he’s worried. She was right, it would blow over. But it would happen again. And he knows that each time, it would chip off a little piece of you; and eventually leave your edges jagged and rough enough to cut.

You’d resent him for it.

Atsumu unlocks his phone. It’s easy enough to find those pictures of you and Osamu again.

You look so happy.

He doesn’t think he was being delusional earlier, he knows there was something more than plain embarrassment in your eyes when you’d looked at him; and yet, he can’t shake the thought that he’s being selfish. 

The photo is cropped awkwardly, and he knows you and Osamu are close, but he can’t help but feel disheartened, and then hate himself for feeling like that. Were you two actually seeing each other? Was he meddling in his brother’s happiness, your happiness? What did he have to offer that his brother didn’t, save for the scrutiny of strangers?

The phone buzzes.

His eyes flick up to the notification bar. It’s a DM request from one of his new-found confidantes.

(Well, it's not like I've got anything better to do.)

In that brief moment, Atsumu understands his mother, and her panic at the state of the house when guests were imminent. He even understands, as he turns a couple of the trophies he has on display a few degrees to the left, why she would go around adjusting her many throw pillows in those last few seconds. That time seemed to stretch endlessly.

And then the doorbell rings, and time seems to somehow come to a stop and rush forward at the same time.

Atsumu stumbles on the carpet as he rushes to open the door.

And there you are.

“Hey, Atsumu,” you say, fiddling with the lid of the plastic container in your hands, “can we talk?”

(Wow, he thinks for some reason. I think those are cookies.)

Osamu walked her over because the publicist was calling around to find her, when she couldn't get a hold of reader on her number. He was worried about her going alone. What a prince. Divider @/cafekitsune Tweet images edited from here and Shokubutsu Zukan (by Tsutsumi Kakeru). Had a hard time finding the source for that image lol, it's been used in SO many fic headers. Each time I reverse image searched, If found a slightly less cropped version until it ended as the full page. and then i had to google translate this russian pirated manga site. next chapter will be the last + I will post a little bonus from the osamu POV. :)

[dabisbratz]

SOFTSPOT — aizawa shouta x male reader

w.c: 3.3k

a/n: alternatively titled: sonny projects onto a reader insert for 3k+ words straight i’ll never get used to writing dirty talk. got carried away.. whoops..

genitalia terms: cock, dick, hole, boypussy, cunt

WARNING: amab reader, praise, degradation, spitting, dirty talk, crybaby!reader, himbo!reader, fingering, anal, nipple play, chest mentions, use of the words ‘tits’ in a mocking manner, dumbification, mutual masterbation, sadism, humiliation, creampie

“Shooo!” You whine, purely instinctual as you shove impulsively purchased gym-mats, equipment, and protein powder into the trunk of your car. Your pro-hero boyfriend isn’t even there, probably off on patrol somewhere, but you can’t help but call for him when you need help…. Even if it’s with a simple task. He’d offered you some exclusive time to workout at U.A’s gym, even after hours, but you preferred the public ones. More motivation that way, you’d put it. Your bottom lip quivers, plump and pouty as you open a jar of discolored powder. You inhale strongly, handsome face distorting in disgust. Ah, well, at least someone else got some good money off it.

Sweat clings to your forehead, sticky on your skin and clinging embarrassingly to your chest, your sleeveless hoodie soaked. It’s a bit uncomfortable, nothing you can’t manage, just a little colder in the winter air.

The trunk of your car slams, loud as you childishly stomp over to the driver’s seat, despite already forgetting what you were so upset about. You don’t pull out of the gym parking lot just yet, instead opening your phone to see if your boyfriend had found the time to respond to your post-gym selfies. The messages remain on read, and you know Shouta would never ignore you, but your eyes can’t help but water from the neglect. You miss him.

So, like any sensible boyfriend, you call him.

Shouta is a capable man; capable of many things. He can swing through the streets of Japan in the blink of an eye— in his sleep, even. He can knock out a villain in record time, with nothing but his fists and maybe an afternoon nap. He can pick you up right where you stand, lift your legs over your head and fuck you like you weigh nothing. But a simple text back is too much?

It rings once, twice…..a few more times, before you finally hear the gruff voice you’ve been yearning for. Instantly, your mood changes, glassy eyes dry within seconds and a large, genuine smile spilling down your face as you glance at yourself in the rearview mirror. “Hello?”

“Sho-Chan!” You beam, loud enough for anyone within a ten mile radius to hear your excitement. Wiggling in your seat, you squeeze your cellphone between your shoulder and ear, starting the car and setting off to go home. Aizawa makes a sound at that, low in his throat and it rumbles in your ear. Damn, if only you kept your earbuds in! “I missed you… a lot!”

“An old man like me?” You frown in response, Shouta isn’t even old. You shake your head profusely, even if he can’t see you, completely missing the rustling sounds in the background of the call. “…Surely you’ve found someone your old age good enough for you at that gym you like so much.”

“Wha— Don’t even joke like that!” You huff, body lurching forward at the red light you almost forgot to stop at. So mean, always pushing your buttons. Your seatbelt is snug against your chest, dipping between the pillowy skin of your pecs. He’d never admit it aloud, but it was most definitely Shouta’s favorite body part of yours, squishy and soft and thick. He’s always touching you there, his large, pale hands digging into the skin until it hurts. He chuckles, hearty but breathless, like he’s preoccupied. You bite your lip, worried. “Uh, Sho?”

As capable as he is, Shouta is also a very weak man. He’s weak for puppy eyes, big and blown out and teary. He’s weak for warm hands, with nails that scratch his back and massage it the following morning after. He’s weak for pictures of you, all smiles and teeth. He’s weak for crying, the sound of hiccups and sobs leaving his pretty boys’ mouth while he tries to fit a cock in his needy holes.

He can see it now, your eyes widening with worry and concern, tears threatening to fall down your face, your eyebrows knitted as you stare at the road ahead of you. With a dragged out sigh, Aizawa groans, mocking as he says: “Sho-Chan’s gonna need your help, baby.”

“Oh!” You’re good at that— very good, even. You’re always eager to help, especially if you’re helping Shouta. It’s the least he deserves, after all. You straighten up in your seat, though you’re already nearing the reserved parking space in front of his house. Seriously, you add, “Anything, I promise. M’almost home.”

There’s a groan on the other side, a spark traveling down your spine and straight to your cock in response. You know that groan, reserved for handjobs and particularly sloppy blowjobs— like when Shouta holds your head in his hands and uses your throat, burying his cock down to the hilt, until all you can taste is him, your nose buried in his dark happy trail and and curly pubes. He’s always been a bit too big for your mouth, instead opting to slap his cock on your tongue or across your cheek when your jaw started aching too much.

“Mhm, bet you are… Waitin’ for Sho to tell you what to do, sweetheart?” You hum in affirmation almost immediately, unbuckling your seatbelt and hopping out the car with a much hastier pace. The cold, outside air makes the hair on your neck stand, your nipples hardening. “Such a good boy. Why don’t you play with your nipples while you tell him how your day was.”

You pause where you stand, eyes widening as your cock twitches in your sweatpants, straining against the fabric. In public, no less, making a distinct print in your pants as you try to cover your erection with one hand. You let out an incredulous laugh, frantically surveying the area as Shouta huffs in your ear. His request isn’t exactly that, more like a command— because you just can’t tell him no.

“I- I worked out a lot,” Switching hands between covering your dickprint and holding your phone, you swallow hard and nod to yourself. Your hand trails up your side, then to your chest, where you gently massage the plush skin of your pecs. Your middle finger gently— slightly, swirls around the sensitive bud of your nipple, a small whimper forming in the back of your throat. “Bought some, um… Um.. Protein powder.”

But you can’t just sit there, not when Shouta is almost right in front of you, his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you, his cock down his throat— he’s right there, just a few steps and a single lock away. And, God, how you hope he takes care of you when you get there. There’s a guttural noise in your ear before it’s briefly cut off. your phone vibrating in your hand as Shouta hangs up, the front door swinging open before you can even knock.

“These tits,” Is the first thing Sho’ says, slamming the door behind you until you’re trapped between it and his tall body. You want to protest, to whine and stomp your feet because they’re certainly not tits, but your need to please is much stronger. Instead, you whine, your head falling forward as you melt in his hands. His hands roam your chest, calloused palms pushing them together obscenely. You squirm, pouting. “Could play with them all day. Would you like that, hm?”

He knows you would.

“Hear how wet my dick is? Fuck, you don’t even know what you do to me,” He’s overwhelming your senses, his stubble brushing against your chest as he takes a perky bud into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. Shouta’s no stranger to using his mouth— in fact, you might just share an oral fixation in common. Your eyes flutter closed, your knees buckling as he licks a flat, long stripe over your sensitive nipple. “Going stupid on me already?”

You shake your head, your cheeks puffed out as he looks up at you through his dark lashes, his equally dark bangs obstructing his vision. You’re so cute, huffing and puffing quietly as a wet patch grows on your pants, right where your tip leaks through your boxers. Your natural smell is stronger, and your chest is still glowing with sweat from your workout.

“Sho, listen I–”

Shouta’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw setting as his other hand rolls your unoccupied nipple between his fingers. Your mouth snaps shut. Staring back at him is too much for you, his eyes darkening the more you make contact. You feel like prey, and Aizawa is the unrelenting predator.

You blink away, a startled gasp leaving your lips when his strong hand grips your jaw and sets your gaze back on him. His smile is devious, his canines sharp and glinting under the ceiling lights. You can’t hold onto anything around you, not the doorknob or the doorframe, so you settle for Shouta’s sleeve, ballling your hand into a fist as he flicks your nipples to watch your tits jiggle in response. So embarrassing!

“Look at that, sweet boy, letting me use you how I want, letting me take what I want. Good boy.”

Your body feels warm as you keen— scorching hot, even— while Shouta chuckles at the sight, purring low in his chest. You love making Shouta happy- you live for it, love blooming in your chest as you nod along. You’re a good boy! Shouta’s good boy! He said it himself! You could feel the rumble of his voice in your sternum, where he was hunched over before lowering himself to remove your shoes, your pants, your hoodie.

Your boxers are ruined, almost like you had cum in your pants before he even thought of touching your cock. He swats your shy hands away from your crotch, cooing as flustered tears well in your eyes. Even with the fat crystals threatening to spill he can see your cock jump, especially when it lands right atop your belly button, a trail of sticky precum correcting you to your underwear. Such a crybaby.

“Spit on it.”

“I— Spit?” You blink once, twice, three more times as you try to process the demand. Your cock throbs, unbearably needy, as you look down at it. When you glance back up Shouta looks expectant, but patient as he watches you connect the dots. He does it first, untucking himself from his pants to spit down on his palm, then rubbing said spit into his big, veiny cock.

Ah.

It’s more pathetic than anything, your lips parting as you spit down on your cock. It’s more akin to drool, a long trail of spit slowly trailing down your lips and chin until it pools at your head. Wet and slick, your fingers twitch as you wrap your hand around your dick, toying with the slit just like Sho’ does. It feels better with his hands though, and you sigh impatiently. No one does it like he does,

“Need…need your hand.”

You need a lot of Shouta’s things these days. You need his fingers, deep inside your hole while he toys with your chest. You need his hand, warm and right and too good when he fists your cock. You need his dick, thick and barely able to pass the rim of your hole. It hits every spot just right, so big and so deep, sometimes accompanied by Shouta’s thumb if you’re feeling extra greedy. You need him to make decisions for you, when you’re too cockdrunk to remember your words. When you’re too stupid to decide anything for yourself.

You’re sure you’re crying by now— it feels like it, you can feel wet streaks on your face as Shouta takes his cock in his hand and rubs it against his own, heads squelching together and precum mixing together as you keen into his touch. His other hand, less dominant, reaches your neck, holding you steady against the door as you rut into his hand like a puppy. You hear yourself choke on a moan, a strangled and pathetic sound that has Aizawa’s dick twitching against yours. Loud and wet, your head falls back against the door with a quiet thump, much to your hero’s amusement.

There’s too much warmth; his hands, his fingers, his cock. You’re nodding along to nothing, eyes darting everywhere and nowhere all at once. Your body pulses, long strokes to your cock making you whine pitifully. Aizawa’s pupils are blown wide, his pink tongue darting over his equally pink lips as he watches you crumble in his hands, leaning into the hand around your throat. It snakes down your chest, lower against your belly button, and around your waist.

At this rate you’re going to explode.

His big, long fingers reach your ass, kneading the plush skin between fingers. You can feel him pulling your cheeks apart, his hands greedy and strong and harsh, when he lets go to place a hard smack to the exposed skin. Shouta laughs when you whine in return, squirming when he grabs your hip so hard it hurts.

You try so hard, proud of yourself as you try to warn Shouta of what’s coming next, of the cum about to shoot straight across your stomach, it takes every ounce of self control you have to scrape together the words you want to say— you have to say. His tight, wet grip has your toes curling, your balled fists reaching up for the dark bundles of hair draped along Aizawa’s shoulders. His middle finger, inching closer and closer to your rim.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck, m’gonna cum, waitwait, Shooo.”

“Mmm, hold on, sugar. Gonna get one out of you with my fingers in this cunt,” There’s something cold and sleek pressed against your taint, gradually warming up the more it circles your rim. There’s nowhere for you to go— forward is into Shouta’s arms, your cocks bumping together lewdly, backward are his fingers; long, thick, calloused and deep. You let out another hiccup, going with the latter of the two as his finger disappears inside you. Grunting along. Shouta’s fingers reach impossibly deep inside you first try, your hole swallowing him up with little resistance. “Did you fuck yourself before you got home? Shoved those needy fingers in your hole because you missed Sho-chan’s big dick pulsing inside your hole? T’aww.”

“Uh-huh, mhm, yeah,” Another mindless, breathless nod while in the back of your head you find yourself pouting. It’s not a cunt and you certainly don’t find that phrase hot at all! You move to nuzzle your forehead against his stubble, moaning out tiny sounds with each brush to your prostate. Shouta lets you drool on his shoulder, eyes squeezed right as you buck your hips into his. You’re sobbing into his ear, thighs trembling against the door as he spreads your cheeks apart, and cool air meets your hole. “Hmmph..”

“Turn around for me, show me where Daddy fucks you. Where his dick goes.” That’s a new one. But he’s right, it’s a perfect fit— even if it needs some prep. He fills you up just right, keeps you stuffed on his cock till all you can do is whine and cry, bounces you up and down until you’re both satisfied. You’re in love.

So you turn, dizzy and wobbly on your legs and unabashedly eager to be good for your lover. He keeps you upright if anything, basically manhandling you until you’re where he wants you, back arched against the door and your cheek squished below the peep-hole. Your hands travel down your chest, down to your hips where they swerve back, palms resting on the swell of your ass. A hungry, animalistic grin graces Shouta’s lips as he watches you spread your cheeks apart once more, the puffy hole winking back at him. You try to smile at him, messy-faced and dopey.

Cute.

There’s more spit now than you remember, warm and sloppy as Shouta rubs it into your hole. Your cock strains painfully, desperate for release, but somehow your overwhelming need to feel full is stronger. And full you’ll be, as Aizawa’s balls tighten, his cock sliding across the crack of your ass, then around your hole. There’s an obscene smack of the head against your rim, then the sound of Shouta sucking in a deep breath through his teeth.

“Shh. Let me in, let me in, baby.” His dick enters slowly, making you sniffle in response. You try your hardest to relax, to sit still and let Sho’ take you how he wants, but you can’t help it. He presses into your hole like he owns it, deep and heavy as his thighs meet the bottom of your backside.

“Take it like you were made for me.”

His balls slap against your own slow, at first, then quickly and sporadically increasing in speed at the expense of your throat. It’s almost like he’s fucking you there too, deep enough that you can taste his precum at the very back of your tongue. His strong arms wrap around your body, hands squeezing your large chest while you bat your wet eyelashes.

“Fuuck, you take it so well. Love watching that greedy fuckin’ hole suck me in. So fuckin’ wet n’ sloppy, ugh, such a good pocketpussy.”

Your rut against the door, pounding against it with each forward thrust, your cock threatening to spurt any second. Shouta’s grumbling something in your ear, something you can’t make out through the foggy haze, but you feel yourself tighten up in response anyway. You babble through your tears, wailing loud and incoherent and something along the lines of ‘I’m Sho’s good boy,’ but who’s keeping track.

“Too— hmm.. I can't.” Shouta’s hand caresses your cheek, curling into a lazily formed fist as he gently knocks a knuckle (though it’s more like the fat of his hand) against your forehead. He makes a sly comment about how hollow and empty your head sounds, a dark and rich laugh erupting from his mouth.

“S’it too much, honey? My dick’s just too much for that tiny little hole,” Your cock jumps against your tummy, twitching until it can’t anymore, cum shooting straight out your tip until you’re drooling on the door, eyes rolled behind your head as Shouta continues using you— you’d only gotten tighter, after all. “That’s too bad. Come on— you can take it, let me stuff it full. Bet you’re so proud of yourself too. Proud of that slutty fuckin’ boypussy.”

Your toes curl, thigh muscles clenching tight as Aizawa keeps you upright, lifting your boneless body up and down, his cock disappearing inside you. Even as he pulls out, your body pulls him right back in. But he’s clearly reaching his limit, his dick pulsating inside you with vigor as he spurts a thick, sticky load inside you around your rim.

He pulls out completely with a hiss, watching his cum slowly trickle out, thick globs collecting at the back of your thighs. He’s the only thing holding you up, your strong legs suddenly jello in his grasp. You make no effort to move, letting him manhandle you onto the couch. His hands are warm in contrast to the wet cloth you don’t remember him grabbing, but it feels good and cool against your skin.

“Sho-Chan..” You whine, not nearly as high in your throat as your moans. “Kiss me.”

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 10

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The reader wakes up.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of hospital care.

“So, I’m gonna make it really clear, you’re going to have your work cut out with her. She’s stubborn, a know it all, unfortunately because she does know it all, photographic memory and all that, the situations she sometimes gets herself in aren’t always great but she always and I mean always has a way out. She doesn’t eat right. Her sleep pattern is worse than a teething toddler and believe me I know” He said looking down at Nathanial in his arms, “but she is fiercely loyal, if you call her for anything, she could be having tea with a royal and she’d drop everything to save your ass or in Laura’s case so you can have a shower without a screaming child and take a nap in peace. She’ll hold you through your nightmares, be your biggest supporter and snap a guys neck if they’ve hurt you. She feels all her emotions at ten times the level we do. Sometimes that’s great, sometimes it’s really not. Now, I’m gonna ask you, don’t pursue this unless you’re sure. Please.”

“She’s our soulmate Clint, there’s no way we aren’t pursuing this.” Replied Steve.

“I know she’s your soulmate but….”

“But what?” Asked Bucky.

“She sometimes, well it’s not my place to say.”

Steve and Bucky both huffed in response. They’d been sick of those words over the last few days. When you’d gripped the bed rail and bent it right in front of them it was clear you were different in some way. Match that with carrying Pietro like you did, Steve and Bucky were sure you were like them. A super soldier.

When Helen Cho entered the room after you’d been sedated, and spoke quietly to Bruce as they set up the cradle, they didn’t miss Bruce’s whispered “accelerated healing” or the mention of having to possibly rebreak some of your bones as they’d have already have set wrong. When they asked Bruce the response was “it’s not my place to say”. The same words were uttered when Steve asked Natasha why her and Clint were her emergency contacts and next of kin.

“You know I’m sick of hearing those words.” Steve told Clint.

“You know what fine, fuck it, yes I know language in front of the baby. He’s heard worse. Natasha and Y/N are his godmothers, he probably knows the f bomb in six different languages already. Look she struggles with the whole soul mate thing.”

Bucky’s head snapped up.

“How so?” Asked Steve.

Before Clint had chance to answer you groaned from the bed, causing the three men to jump to their feet, Nathanial jostling in Clint’s arms.

“Lightsssss, bright light, bright light.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes tightly.

“Shit, I forgot, F.R.I.D.A.Y dim the lights.” Clint instructed. “Good morning you little gremlin.”

“Gremlin?” Steve asked. “Sweetheart can you hear us?”

“It’s from a movie.” Bucky answered “Don’t put it on your damn list, it’s awful. Babydoll?”

“It is not. It’s a cult piece.” Clint replied.

“Whatever. Doll, can you hear us?”

You groaned again and muttered Clint’s name. He pushed past Steve and handed him a wiggling Nathanial, squeezing your hand and stroking your face affectionately. Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hey kid, I’m here, open your eyes, you’ve had us all worried. Laura’s even started knitting again, you know how she hates it, only does it to keep herself busy, and don’t get me started on Natasha. I thought we’d have to sedate her at one point.”

“Natty.” You replied as your eyes started to flicker open.

“She’s upstairs, probably already on her way down.”

Bucky huffed. He didn’t want everyone in here. He wanted to speak to you, hold you, take care of you, figure out how the hell you were here. You started to look around, still squinting, jumping when you saw you were in the Med Bay.

“Easy kid. You’re in the compound Med Bay. You've been out for three days.”

You started to fidget in the bed.

“Y/N, listen.” and he gently cupped your jaw, moving your face to look at him. “You’re gonna be OK kid, you scared the shit out of us all, but you’ll be OK. You’re in the compound. Only Banner and Cho have looked at you. OK?”

You nodded in reply, your eyes full of tears. Clint kissed your forehead.

“Pietro? Did he? Is he?”

“He’s alive. See?” Clint stood upright and pointed to the next room in the bay. You followed his pointing to see you were separated by a glass wall but sure enough there was Pietro. Wanda and Vision at his bedside. He waved weakly at you and you attempted to wave back.

“Careful sweetheart.” You glanced up at the voice, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Hi honey.”

Spotting baby Nathanial in his arms, you reached out and made a gesture for Steve to pass him to you.

“Gimme.”

“Y/N,” Clint said as he perched on the bed “really?”

“Baby, gimme please.” You looked up at Steve with puppy eyes, who realised he immediately had no defence against your sad face and he turned to Clint, not knowing what to do. You pushed out your bottom lip for added effect and looked back at Clint.

“Fine, but you’re gonna need to sit up a little. Clint replied, before gathering up some pillows.

You tried to push yourself up as much as possible and Bucky silently tried to help. Why were you ignoring them? Clint moved around to the side of the bed Bucky was at and placed a pillow under your arm, saying something about it being the best side as your drip was gone, before whispering to you.

“Maybe stop being a brat and acknowledge your soulmates.”

You shifted uneasily and glanced at Clint as he gave you a knowing look, before he gestured at Steve to come around with Nathanial.

“Hello.” You said quietly, not making eye contact.

“Babydoll” “Sweetheart.”

Bucky placed a kiss on your head as you side eyed him.

“Is this a good idea?” Steve asked as Nathanial wiggled in his arms some more. “You said yourself how unsettled he is.”

“Just watch.” Clint laid Nathanial in the crook of your arm, making sure the pillow took most the weight. Nathanial snuggled into you, taking out his pacifier to give you a drool filled grin.

“Hi baby.” You said softly. Nathanial snuggled down more and closed his eyes, gripping on to the blanket Clint had placed over him.

The three watched you fondly as Nathanial drifted off to sleep, as you stroked his face affectionately. Bucky and Steve both felt a lump form in their throat as they watched. Thoughts of what could have been and what could be filling their heads. White picket fences seemed so far away now but there was something about you, their soulmate, with a baby in her arms.

Clint slipped back discreetly from between the two and moved to the other side of the bed. Spotting Natasha and Bruce hurrying down the corridor he gestured for them to slow down and wait, nodding back at Steve and Bucky. Steve slipped his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky mirrored his actions in return.

“We got her back bud.”

Bucky went to speak but let out a sob instead, as tears began to run down his face. Steve pulled him into a hug. You side eyed them not really knowing what to do. Clint noticed your uncomfortableness and squeezed your hand affectionately as tears formed in your eyes. You leaned back into the pillows, shaking your head.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” You almost whispered. “I can’t be their soulmate.”

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@abaker74 @animegirlgeeky @calwitch @slowlyshycomputer @paasrin @cjand10 @otterlycanadian

[zymruk]

Can you stop? [Shang-Chi x Reader]

AN: I received this request and honestly thanks for asking me to write it. I don't know how much it's gonna take me to write it, but I'll try. sorry for any grammar mistakes

Y/A/N: Your agency's name

Warning: none, really.

Synopsis: Shaun wasn't always a door guy. He used to work as a bodyguard.

I'm probably gonna follow up with a one-shot

It was Tuesday third of October, when you woke up to the sound of pounding at your door. It took you a while to remember the cause of the noise. You had an appointment today for a promotional ad for some cream. And judging by the time you were late.

"Come on Y/N, you don't want another one of Lelie's scoldings!" Said Shawn outside your door. Shawn was the bodyguard you'd gotten since the renewal of your contract at Y/A/N. The previous one had just closed down, so you were in dire need of a new one, fortunately, Les still wanted you as a client. The both of you, then, decided on holding your own fort. Still, you needed a bodyguard, the previous one had been hired by someone by the time you'd found a compromise with Les. Coincidentally, Shawn had all the qualifications, thus, was hired.

Leslie was your agent. She could be a bit cranky on bad days, but the worst ones were when you were late to your appointments. And you were. In less time than you planned, you had been showered, dressed and ready to go. After all, you would change once again at the shooting set when you' would 'd arrive. The clothes you were supposed to be wearing already picked out by dear Leslie.

"Thanks. I think I forgot to put on my alarm." You turned to Shawn, whom had already bought you coffee. You would need it today. Not only did you have to shoot an ad, later in the day you were needed at the inauguration of a theater funded by the Stark Relief Foundation.

You'll smile, take pictures for two hours and even go through four more hours watching a documentary on the creation of the Stark industries. Apparently, the theater director had insisted on it being projected during the inauguration, though many had wanted to watch something else. Thanks to Leslie, however, you wouldn't suffer alone, as she'd been able to snatch another ticket for Shawn. He would watch the terribly long documentary with you. Not that he really had a choice. I mean, he was paid to do it.

Now in the car, going to the set location, you couldn't help but get lost in the sights of the road. You often didn't have the time to stop and admire what was around you. More often than you'd want, you needed to be at ten places at the same time. It was tiring, but, like everybody, you had a job to do and your mouth to feed. Also, your job wasn't as terrible as it could've been. You were lucky. You had, comfortably, a thing that few could claim and, money. In terms, you couldn't really complain.

"What are you thinking about?" Shawn's voice took you out of your reverie. He was looking at you through the rearview mirror. You'd almost forgotten him with how quiet he'd been.

"Everything and nothing at once. Why?" Now that he was looking at the road again, you could observe him without any restraint. He was a handsome young man, the same age as you if you were not mistaken, maybe a bit older. But handsome, no less. He'd seen a lot of things with you in this one year of 'partnership'. He'd protected you from weirdos trying to break into your changing rooms, had shielded you from someone trying to snatch you at a signing event.You'd been vulnerable with during this year, he'd seen you break down more times than you could count and still found it in himself to be comprehensive about it. You were safe with him, so much so that you'd considered him an ally; a friend, if you will.

¸

Once the shooting was done, you two were on your way back to your hotel, where you'd go back to your respective rooms and change clothes. You were given a y/f/c garment that complimented your body in the best of ways. You could thank Leslie and the stylist she'd gotten you for that. Though you weren't feeling the event as much as you should've, you still felt better knowing you wouldn't be alone. Shawn would be with you.

"Hey, are you ready?" You could hear his voice outside your door as you were staring at your reflection.

"Yeah, I'm coming." You were content with the way you looked. Plus, you wouldn't stay all night. After the screening, or during, you'd find a way to take your leave without anyone noticing. You had faith in that.

Once out of the room, you almost bumped with him, by how close he was to the entrance. The suit he was wearing was remarkably perfect in him. It was as if he was the one blessed by a fairy or something. Also, it was worth noting that his faced had been done. Probably Leslie and her need for every picture to be perfect. You were all the more enthralled by his eyeshadow.

Or rather, his eyes, to be more precise. Whomever Leslie had hired had truly mastered their craft. All in all, the makeup suited him, you'd go as far as to say it really complimented his face.

"Maybe we should get moving." He said, his voice above a whisper. You hadn't realized the two of you had been standing in this hallway for a while now. You didn't know what could've happened if anything had happened in the tiny moment.

"Yeah, definitely. Do you have any plans after tonight?" The words escaped your mouth before you could even hold them back. It was true that Shawn would be free later in the night. He'd be done with his shift. Elsa would take hers right after him. You didn't know why you needed a nocturn security guard; but Leslie knew what she was doing, you trusted her too.

"No, I was planning on watching a movie and falling asleep to it." You felt stupid for even asking the question, obviously the guy wanted to relax and chill after this day of running around.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" You hadn't even gotten the time to engage with his answer that he'd already asked you a question.

"No, I'm probably gonna stay in my room late and wait for sleep to find me."

"Why don't we both watch a movie and fall asleep to it then?" You had to agree the suggestion was appealing. You wanted to have fun and maybe that would be the one fun thing you'd be doing this week. In less than a minute you'd made your mind.

"Yeah, sure. Did you have movie picked out already?" The both of you had already taken the direction of your room. It was in all honesty the biggest of the two.

"Yeah, I had an inkling for ratatouille by scary movie is also kinda good." He'd say his hands in his pockets. You couldn't see it but her was smiling.

"I'm more of a scary movie type of gall." You said turning your head towards him as you were unlocking your room.

[elizabethrobertajones]

"I'm so relieved to have you at my side, my loves," G'raha declared. "The fate of the star was not just in my hands, but yours too, and I cannot say how proud I am of us."

"Even me?" asked Frog, as Erenville rolled his eyes and tried not to look affected by the praise, despite the please twitch of his ears.

"Even you and the Gleaners did your part, Bounding Frog."

Day 5: Alternate Universe | In Another Life

"Oh, I don't think much about alternate universes except joke ones where Frog runs off with the Fuath but there's not like any lore or anything - Oh my god that one time Frog trolled Erenville by pretending to be a new Gleaner." *immediately comes up with 3 pages of backstory*

Anyway meet fucked up Allagan bloodline Erenville, Gleaner Frog and Warrior of Light G'raha :D (I really ought to have made Frog's colour scheme without the pink but it's so much a part of her I forgot it's from her Azem legacy until long after I posed and took the picture :P Really, G'raha should have pink highlights and a pink eye since I only have 1 canon Azem who is the forebear of any WoL in any AU I have and they have the Blessing of Pastel Pink Aesthetics they pass on)

Not a canon relationship as of the current waning days of Endwalker we're in and I can feel Frog trying to kill me with her mind for putting her this close to Erenville because this is currently her Nemesis and I am being a very bad blorbo caretaker by shipping them before plot has elapsed... But Erenville doesn't scare me as much as Y'shtola does so I can get away with it as long as Frog can't become so OP she can reach out of the fourth wall and murder me :P May be a level 100 ability but I hope the narrative gives me an opportunity to set her up with Erenville before then. And of course I ship G'rerenville 5eva.

WoL!G'raha's special interest wouldn't just be Allagan horrors but ALL the horrors and he'd know the most about manipulating aether for combat against primals and how to kill them all. It's joked that Hydaelyn blessed him with the Echo because she wanted to spare him bothering Krile with any more questions and tests and puzzles, and gave him the Blessing of Light so he could go off and do his own research. He made a beeline for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and became their champion with a try hard attitude and known for his enthusiastic thumbs up whenever tasked with the hardest task.

Erenville diligently and quietly studied all he could on Allagan Horrors to learn what his family's dark secret was, but never made it too well known why he was studying it, or that his one gold one red eyes were anything strange. However, his quiet competence got him sent to Erozea to help Rammbroes, and despite all his attempts to lay low, he found himself there at the unlocking of the Crystal Tower, learning way too much about himself in front of people who couldn't unhear it, and pushed along by an over-enthusiastic Warrior of Light who could not shut up about how great an advantage such a magical connection could be. Still, Erenville is calm and professional and when the time came and he knew there was no other way, he shooed the Sons of St Coinach out of the Tower and looked almost dispassionately over his shoulder to G'raha and bid him farewell.

The Exarch was, of course, 1000x more impenetrably vague and annoying but - and this was rather difficult for the Exarch to handle - the huge dark ears sticking out of his hood did give G'raha a hint about who he may be dealing with, though he suspected all sorts of terrible things like Allagan clone or robot and so on before daring to hope it was truly Erenville - when he realised the plan was to tidily pack himself and the Light away with a minimum of melodrama and fuss. This was mostly because of the extremely intricate plans for running the Crystarium in his absence that Erenville had bequeathed before they left for Mt Gulg. It was all just too like him.

G'raha made a ten times more melodramatic intervention while actively coughing up Light everywhere, but Emet-Selch is going to Emet-Selch and can't stand the Warrior of Light being as big a drama queen as he is so he just shoots Erenville and kidnaps him to the Tempest because he's fed up of G'raha talking and posing. A rescue was mounted, love confessed, everyone forgave everyone and cried a lot etc etc.

Erenville joined the Scions after that and provided a sensible counterpoint, inexplicably becoming close to Alisaie (she reminds him of Wuk Lamat but he still hasn't disclosed an onze of backstory).

When they come to Sharlayan for help to stop the final days, they meet an over-worked but still cheerful Gleaner who can lift a whole Troll over her shoulder, and is very helpful and friendly winking and showing them the secret paths. Of course, Bounding Frog is a born Gleaner - she's loved animals forever and had mapped the whole mountain ecosystem around her home village. Sent to Sharlayan by her parents to study the things she loves, she'd quickly risen through the ranks of the Gleaners to become one of their trustiest hands.

She did see through G'raha hopping around as a frog instantly, and on hearing of the incident Erenville only wryly said "I'm sure I could have played a better toad." This could not be disputed, as Y'shtola refused to cast the spell frivolously to settle their debate.

Frog kept in contact and kept them updated on events in Sharlayan once they left to take the fight to the Telophoroi and kept them updated on the Blasphemies once the final days began; by the time G'raha returned from Elpis having learned of an Azem somehow even more annoying that the most annoying interpretation of Azem you've previously heard of, they had all become very fond of one another. By the time they set off for the stars, G'raha and Erenville had admitted to each other they both had a huge crush on the huge Gleaner, and she in turn was waiting for their return more anxious for them than the entire fate of the star.

And of course once they came back from Ultima Thule, Frog's only problem was working out which one of them to smooch first, before carrying G'raha off somewhere quiet to sit and hug and be extremely relieved and happy together :')

[steddiebang]

The Pizza Box Pact

Author: @pizzaqueen l Artist: @Goingsteddi3 l Artist: @cousin-itt Posting on Sunday, November 5

Eddie and Steve have been living together, working together, and raising their cat together for a few years, now, but they’re not together together. They’re friends—the best of—nothing more, and they’re happy. At least, Eddie is, and he thought Steve was too. But then he finds a pact they made, one drunken night ten years ago, where they pledged to ‘marry’ each other if they were still single by the time they’re thirty, and everything changes. Steve isn’t amused by the reappearance of the pact, seems almost upset by it, and Eddie figures it’s because he’s going to be thirty soon and doesn’t have a girlfriend. So, he does what any best friend would do: pledges to find Steve the perfect woman, setting him up on a series of unsuccessful blind dates. Somewhere along the way, Eddie rediscovers feelings that he thought he’d put aside years ago. He just hopes he hasn’t found them again too late.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“Hey, Steve”—Eddie tumbles into the kitchen, waving the piece of cardboard—“check this out!” He thrusts the pact under Steve’s nose, glee bubbling in his veins as he waits for Steve’s reaction.

“Dude.” Steve leans back, setting down his mug of coffee and swiping the cardboard from Eddie. There’s this look of fond annoyance on his face, one that Eddie is more than familiar with, but it slowly fades as he reads the words written in Eddie’s janky hand. He gives the cardboard back to Eddie. “Why do you still have that?”

Eddie folds himself onto the chair across from Steve at the kitchen table. It’s this old chrome-edged formica thing—a little too kitsch for Eddie’s taste, and definitely too kitsch for Steve’s—that was left by the former residents, along with four mismatched chairs and a mug that says ‘stay cool’ with a picture of a big, yellow cat lying on a melting block of ice.

“You don’t get rid of a pact.” Sure, Eddie forgot about it in the ensuing years, but a pact is a pact. And, well, he likes yanking Steve’s chain.

“We were just dumb kids.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re pushing thirty and you’re still single.” Eddie waves the cardboard. “Time’s running out, man, you’re going to be stuck with me soon.”

“I’m already stuck with you.”

“True.” Eddie reaches for Steve’s coffee mug, but Steve bats his hand out of the way before he can grab it. “We’re practically married already, right? Live together, work together, raising our child together…”

As if on cue, Mercury pads into the room, stopping pointedly by her bowl and meowing. Loudly. Eddie pushes himself to his feet, dragging himself over to the cupboard.

“So everyone keeps saying,” Steve murmurs.

“Who says that?” Eddie gets out the cat food, stooping down to scratch his fingers under Mercury’s chin. “Did Daddy forget to feed you?”

“I didn’t forget,” Steve says, “and stop calling me that. She’s a cat, not our kid.” He crosses his arms over his stomach.

Eddie makes a show of gasping and covering Mercury’s ears. “She’s right here.” When Steve only grunts, hiding his face behind his mug, Eddie says, “So, who says we’re practically married?”

“No one.”

“Well, someone’s grumpy this morning.”

“Well, someone came in here while I was in the middle of my morning coffee, waving some stupid old piece of paper at me.”

Eddie’s brow furrows. He was expecting Steve to at least laugh about this, but he’s being weird. “I’m not actually going to hold you to the pact.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

Right. Time for a different tack. “Is this about you still being single?” Eddie pushes himself to his feet, ignoring Mercury’s indignant mew at leaving her unfed. “Because you’ll find someone. Maybe not by the time you’re thirty, but there’s plenty of time.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay.” The scent of cat food hits Eddie’s nose as he opens the tin; he makes a face and bends down to empty it into Mercury’s bowl. She’s already engrossed in eating when scratches her head again, and he huffs softly before he throws the empty tin out. “Well, being footloose and fancy-free isn’t so bad, is it?”

Eddie likes his life—their life—even if it’s not what he thought it would be. He’s swapped the dream of Madison Square Garden for a music store in Chicago, tour buses and a mansion for an old van and an apartment above the store, and he hasn’t gone on a date in months. Or longer. But he’s still bringing music to people via Corroded Vinyl, he still plays occasionally, and he has Mercury and Steve and their friends. It’s good.

“Dude,” Steve says, stomping over and pulling the empty cat food tin out of the trash, “I’ve told you a million times to wash these first.”

“Sorry. Haven’t had my coffee, yet.” Eddie grabs his favorite mug and pours some coffee into it, along with a healthy serving of cream and sugar. He waits for one of Steve’s usual remarks—about rotting his teeth, or clogging his arteries—but he doesn’t say anything. It sits uneasily. He blows on his coffee and adds, “Anyway, when was the last time I forgot? At least I, unlike a certain roommate who I won’t name, have learned to pick up my wet towels.”

Water drums against the sink, splashing up the sides as Steve runs the tin under the spray. “Whatever.”

“Do you know how gross it is to step on a cold, wet towel when you’re not expecting it?”

“You’ve survived so far,” Steve says, the tiniest hint of a smile playing on his lips and, for a moment, Eddie thinks this can all be forgotten, but the smile fades, and Steve adds, “I just… I’m getting kinda old for footloose and fancy-free.”

Eddie leans back against the counter near the sink; as Steve moves, his elbow brushes Eddie’s arm, and their hips bump once or twice. “I’m older than you.”

“I’m not you.”

“Okay, who pissed in your Wheaties?”

“No one.” Steve empties the sink, shakes the tin out, and dumps it back in the trash. “I’m going to open the store,” he says, stopping by the table to gulp the rest of his coffee before he heads out.

Eddie blinks at the space where Steve was a moment ago. “Well, that was weird.” He looks at Mercury. “You know what’s got into your second favorite dad?”

Mercury looks up at Eddie, then trots away.

“Very helpful, thanks.” Eddie shrugs and pours himself a bowl of Count Chocula; he spoons some cereal into his mouth and throws the pact in the trash, then takes it back out and sticks it on the fridge with a Snoopy magnet. He’s not throwing it away because Steve’s in a shitty mood.

Maybe Steve will find it funny when he’s woken up properly.

Read more on November 5!

[mostmagical]

nicole my love will you rank your top three or top five or top ten video games… whichever number you wish to gush about… i love you…

hi sunny..... oughh I have a tough time picking favorites.... I looked at this question like a homework assignment.. I did a top 10 and I put reasoning even though you did not ask for that but I'm putting it under this read more in case you want it... you don't have to read more though... but you can... i love you...

Top 10

Kingdom Hearts - Obviously of course. I don’t always even rank KH1 as my favorite KH game but basically this was my “oh games can be like that?” game. Until I played this, I mostly played simulator games and movie tie-ins and Barbie games, and I loved those but this one had a STORY I could bury myself in. I forced the friend I played this game with to sit and wait while I read through every journal entry and character file looking for MORE, because I was so immediately hooked on everything.

Kingdom Hearts Re:Chain of Memories - This one always ranks high not just because of the story, which I love, but because this was the first game I ever beat entirely by myself. A lot of people skip or can’t stand this game so I’m extra proud of myself tbh. But this is the game where one of my favorite characters became one of my favorite characters, so it’ll always have a special place.

Ōkami - I love this game so much… It’s so visually stunning, I love the unique game play, and Amaterasu is such an amazing protagonist despite the fact that she does talk outside of barking and howling and also she is literally a dog. But she’s so good. There’s a dedicated bark button, which is important. AND THERE’S FISHING!

Final Fantasy X - I’ve literally never sobbed more over a piece of media in my entire life. The game wasn’t even over yet. I had to fight a boss with tears in my eyes. This was my first FF game and oh my god. Oh my god. I can say no more.

Horizon Zero Dawn - I got so sucked into this game. It was all I could think about for months. I love the environmental storytelling and the world-building and Aloy is a female protagonist WITHOUT a love interest in this game and it’s so huge to me and ugh. UGH.,

Hades - This game is so fun… I usually don’t like games that make me feel like I’m struggling but they somehow made it such a joy to die over and over again and see what’s up in the house. The sheer amount of unique dialogue makes it impossible to get annoyed. And it’s just FUN. Full of complicated family dynamics and Greek mythology… Collectibles… WOO (also has fishing)

Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons: A Wonderful Life - This is a really sentimental add, but it’s genuinely one of my favorites. I have so many memories of me and my childhood best friend staying up until the wee hours of the morning playing this game, only to go to bed and set an alarm to get up and play it again. AWL has some of the best NPCs of all HM/SOS games, and also the cutest cows. Ever.

Final Fantasy XV - FISHING. And also stories about bonds we build… friendship… ough.. I love sitting in the back of the car and letting Ignis drive and feeling like we’re all on a friendship road trip together. Random stops for pictures and bathroom breaks included. Luna deserved better but the hours I spent fishing made up for that.

Persona 5 Strikers - It probably seems silly to put this here and not Persona 5, but I really loved Strikers so much. It had such satisfying gameplay, completely different from the source material, yet still somehow felt like such an homage to the classic movesets. It was a really good adaptation to a new genre. I loved the story and the new characters, who MADE ME CRY! and I think it’s such a shame, because a lot of Persona players skipped this one!!! Ryuji gets to say fuck. Come on, people.

The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles - I love the characters in this game so much… I miss them… I love the original AA trilogy, but this one was so much fun for me. I love Herlock Sholmes… I love him so much I forgot that his real name is not Herlock Sholmes. All the characters are so dynamic and the cases are so fun… That was a game I wished never had to end.

Special mention to Animal Crossing: Wild World, Barbie Horse Adventures Mystery Ride, Secret Agent Barbie, Ni No Kuni, God of War (2018), Gris... I love video games. Damn.

[kissentz]

I did try to message in the chat thing but yours is set to accepting messages from Tumblrs you follow (side blogs don't count TuT they should though) and sorry for the wait, work was exhausting

head canons below, sorry if the formatting is difficult to read

-McLeach was born in America somewhere in the South. His family moved to Australia shortly before WW2.

-The McLeach family lived very rural. They had a barn where they stored firewood and their chickens for eggs and Percival played in that barn a lot, and used to hide up there when his father came home in a bad mood.

-McLeach has a little brother, Casey. They haven't spoken to each other in over ten years. They used to be close when they were younger. Percival's older by nine years.

-His dad served in WW2. While he was abusive to begin with, he got worse after he came back due to untreated PTSD. Mr. McLeach also entrusted his close friend to help look after his wife and kids when he was gone (as Mr. Wells was able to avoid serving due to physical issues) Mr. Wells wasn't a kind man to Percival or Casey, but pretended to be when their mother was around.

-McLeach named Joanna after his mother.

-McLeach only made it to third grade and had to drop out because of the war going on, and wasn't able to continue his education. When food got harder to come by, he started hunting. It took him a while to get better at it.

-When he was a teenager, a incident happened that caused his mother to be institutionalized and his father in the hospital, which led to Mr. Wells taking both boys in. Percival learned a lot of his cruelty from Wells. He did what he could to protect Casey from his wrath.

-His leg got broken while trying to run away and it never completely healed (hence why he walks a little oddly. He can still put pressure on it, but the bones aren't properly aligned.)

-McLeach had a difficult time finding and keeping employment with his lack of education. He knew basic math, could read and write at a third grade level, but the only jobs he could find didn't pay a living wage.

-He got into poaching around his early 20s, and started off with ilegally transporting animals for someone else.

-He taught himself how to drive and never got a formal license.

-McLeach had gotten married at some point and had a kid, but his job instability and drinking led to divorce two years in and he wasn't allowed to see his son anymore. He never laid a hand on his wife, but they did fight a lot and it got too much for her. He toned down his drinking after the divorce, but still can't quite kick it. That kid would be around Cody's age by now.

-When he goes for supply runs, he goes to a town that's as far away as possible where its unlikely that anyone's seen his wanted posters.

-He's a bit of a topic among the rangers. He's far from their most wanted criminal, but he's given them a very, very hard time with getting caught. He was only detained once and only then, long enough to get a picture for the wanted poster before he managed to escape. As far as they know, he's not a danger to other people (yet)

-McLeach is genuinely nice to some (keyword, some) of the people he meets when out hunting. Partially because he doesn't want to draw unnessecary attention to himself (hilarious logic given his truck) and partially because he does miss the human company. Most people also have the good sense to not call him out on being a poacher even if they know for certain he is (given he always has his gun on him, not something anyone wants to risk)

I have more headcanons but I think this is getting a bit long lol. I plan to incorporate some headcanons into Don't Hold Your Tongue, not all of them, but the ones I feel are relevant, like him going to a faraway town for supplies

thank u for telling me about dm’s!!! Σ(ﾟДﾟ；) totally forgot that i turned it on… now it’s not a problem~

thank you for telling me about it 💞💞💞 i REALLY adore most of your headcanons!!! many of them matches with mine as well (such as about abusive father, troubles with work and etc). i like how realistic all of them!!

also, what happened between casey and percy? why are they split apart, though they were so close? just curious~

[unusual-raccoon]

okay then i will spam you <3 <3 just thinking about what you said about jace gaslighting lucerys when he starts suspecting jace is his stalker! with the ask i sent you about social media and them, i just feel like Jace would have a private random account that he uses just to follow lucerys and send him the most deranged messages ever. like, he picks lucerys from school one day and sees him flirting with that arryn boy from his bio class. that night, the random anon sends lucerys a lengthy message describing very explicitly and with detail all the ways he could kill the arryn boy and how lucerys was wearing the sweater he sent as a gift so that means lucerys is his and he should know better. lucerys cannot block him because the anon has already told him that he will post all lucerys' private pictures if he tries (jace would never share such pictures anywhere, with anyone, because he doesn't want to cause his baby so much distress and he doesn't want to share lucerys either, but lucerys doesn't know this ofc ;) ).

Oh. OH. Unhinged stalker Jace 🫣. God, he’d be so deranged. Like sending the most long-winded, possessive rants about Luke being his fucking property. And then ten he’d switch apps and text Luke that he forgot his lunch at home💖.

I cannot even imagine how stressed Luke would be though, poor thing. Bet you the only thing keeping him from having a whole breakdown is being able to spend time with Jace 👀.

Also sorry if the social media angle wasn’t what you hoped, I was trying to keep it generic! But yeah, stalker!Jace would have an account to (lovingly) harass Luke. Also, yeah those nudes are fucking hard earned (and ofc they’re of his bby he’d rather die than let anyone else see them)

Maybe the minute Luke starts to connect the dots his stalker sends him a photo of Jace, like sleeping or just something candid. However it’s proof that his stalker has access to the people (the person™️) that he cares about more than anything.

Cue Luke being extra paranoid and SO attached. He’d bust right through their adjoining bathroom and ask Jace is he can spend the night. Threatening someone he cares about brings out another side of Luke (I’m looking at you Aemond 😌).

The gifts might eventually become more sexual - like yes the previous gifts were possessive and suggestive, and yes he’s sent compromising, reputation-shattering images of himself, but sex toys are another ball game for him.

Remote. control. vibrator 🫣 - it’s really his pièce de résistance, at least Jace happens to think so.

Luke would rather eat glass than put that thing anywhere near him, but his stalker sends a message and another photo of Jace. So, Luke agrees to do what his stalker wants.

Jace edging himself all day while Luke is at school and playing with the vibrator’s setting via an app on his phone. Cranking up the speed and slowing it down in long intervals. Dragging the dial to the max for brief 3 second pulses and Luke is utterly sobbing in the bathroom, resigned to failing his bio test because there’s NO way he can go back to class

He’d take his sleeping meds after scrubbing himself raw in the shower, crawling into bed with Jace, and knocking out - rinse and repeat.

[maybeimamuppet]

i'll be there for christmas (1/3)

hellooooo everyone!! happy holidays to everyone who celebrates something and happy day to everyone who doesn’t!! i hope it’s been wonderful :)

welcome to officially the longest thing i’ve ever written!! yeeha this is apparently the length of a novel so that’s fuckin wild 

and it’s also a gift for my love. merry christmas (or whenever you read this :p) you’re the answer to a wish i didn’t know i was making and i’m so thankful every day that you came into my life. i love you so much <;33

for the rest of you!! tw for 

dysfunctional family dynamics

mentioned homophobia 

mentioned outing 

and as always if i’ve missed something please let me know so i can add it in :) 

enjoy!!

————

Janis wakes up to the sound of her ringtone. 

Not her alarm. She has them set to different sounds. Her ringtone. 

She groans and sits up in bed, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes and fumbling for her phone on her nightstand. 

She huffs when she sees Damian’s name and stupid picture lighting up her screen; her phone buzzing in her hand in a desperate bid for her attention. She hits the green button and puts her phone to her ear.

“What do-”

“Where the fuck are you?” Damian huffs on the other end. “It is nine fifteen, you are half an hour late for your shift, madam. It is the week before Thanksgiving, you know damn well everyone and their mother is getting coffee before they have to deal with their miserable families-”

“Fuck! Shit, Dame, I’m-” Janis begins, flying out of bed and throwing all her clothes out of the hamper to find her work uniform. “I overslept, I’m- shit!” 

“Just get here, I’ll cover for you if boss man shows up,” Damian sighs. “This is the last time, though.”

“I love you,” Janis says. “I gotta go, gimme ten.”

“Ten only.” 

“Maybe fifteen.”

“Ten!” 

“Ten,” Janis echoes, hanging up the phone and grabbing her work hat off its hook by the door. “Fuck my life.”

—-

Janis manages to make it out the door in three minutes flat. Her uniform is stained and wrinkled since she forgot to wash it, her hair and teeth aren’t brushed, she didn’t eat breakfast, and her shoes are untied, but she made it out the door in three minutes and that has to be enough on a morning like this. 

She has her cap hanging out of her mouth as she ties her hair back in a lazy sort of knot, running the four blocks to the coffee shop. 

She sighs when she sees it come into her view, bracing internally for… something. Every day is different. None of them are necessarily good. But they’re all different. 

She’s about to open the door when it flies open at her. She stumbles backwards to avoid a face full of glass door and trips over her untied shoelaces. 

“Watch where you’re fucking going!” she scoffs to the woman who landed on top of her. 

“Me?! You should tie your fucking shoes!” the woman yells. 

“And you should watch for innocent pedestrians before you take off for your fucking marathon!” 

“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?!”

“A fucking nutcase, clearly!” Janis yells. “Now if you’ll excuse me, your highness, I have a fucking shift I’m late for. Sorry to be in your way with my… common… ness. Look, just leave!” 

“For all you know I’m a paying customer!” the woman yells after her as Janis stalks into the shop. 

“I’m not on the clock yet!” Janis retaliates. “Have a fucking fantastic day, enjoy trampling people!” 

“Hmph!” the woman huffs, rushing off down the sidewalk. Janis shoves her way back through into the employee area to clock in. 

“What the fuck have you done?!” Damian yells, slamming the door open after her.

“What?” Janis sighs, swiping her employee ID card through the system. 

“Do you have any idea who you just yelled at on the fucking sidewalk?!” 

“Some blind businesswoman? She fucking knocked me on my ass, I was well within my right to yell.”

“That was Cady Heron!” Damian insists. “As in heiress to Heron Enterprises and fucking billionaire, Cady Heron!” 

Janis freezes mid-step on her way back to the main shop. “You’re kidding me.”

“No! You fucking- oh my god, Janis!” 

“I just yelled at the daughter of the person who owns my entire apartment complex.”

“He owns half the city, Janis.”

“I just called the daughter of the person who owns half my city a fucking nutcase.”

“Janis!”

“Alright, look, if I get crucified just… deal with my affairs and I love you dearly. Just don’t… don’t think about what just happened.”

“You yelled at a billionaire!” Damian insists.

“Yes! Continue to remind me of that, thanks a fucking million.”

“Billion.”

“I’m gonna pour hot coffee. All over you. And everything you love,” Janis grumbles, taking her spot behind the counter. 

“Tie your damn shoes.”

“Hot! Coffee!”

—————

The next morning gets off to a smoother start. Damian personally set no fewer than fifteen alarms for her, so she’s up well within a reasonable amount of time.

She can walk instead of sprint today, as she carefully adjusts her freshly washed and ironed uniform. 

“Ms. Sarkisian?” a voice asks as she fluffs her hair out from the collar of her polo. Janis turns on her heel and sees a man in a full three-piece suit standing by a very fancy car. He’s even got one of those funky little handkerchiefs in his pocket. And little white gloves. 

“Maybe. Who’s asking?”

“In the car, please, madam.”

“I don’t think so,” Janis replies, turning back around. “Have a nice day.”

“Miss, I really must insist-”

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want with me, but I have a shift to get to. Enjoy your gloves.” 

“Ms. Sarkisian,” a woman’s voice says. Janis turns around again and sees a woman standing behind the now open door to the backseat. Janis winces when she sees it’s her. From yesterday. “Please.” 

Janis looks suspiciously between the two of them. The… driver, Janis presumes, gestures gently to the very expensive car. Janis shoots each of them one last look before she slowly makes her way over and gets in. The woman smiles like the cat that got the canary as she takes the far seat. 

“Whoa,” Janis whispers as she sees the interior. 

“Coffee?” the woman asks as they start driving.

“Oh, um… no, thank you. I, er… get enough of that in my day to day. Listen, I’m so sorry about yesterday, I had no idea who you were and I really can’t afford to be sued right now-”

“I’m not suing you,” the woman says. She sighs and reaches out a hand for Janis to shake. “Let’s just forget all about that, shall we? Cady Heron, pleasure to meet you.” 

“Uh… Janis… Sarkisian,” Janis says awkwardly. How often do you get to shake hands with a billionaire just for her to fuck it up? “Same here.” 

“Janis, can I call you Janis?” Cady begins, speaking so rapidly that Janis doesn’t even get a chance to interject. “I have a small proposition for you.” 

Janis looks as she hands over a manila folder. She opens it and sees a nondisclosure agreement as the first document contained within. What the fresh hell-

“What-”

“Listen, Janis, I’m sure you know by now who I am. And that our… how do I say this delicately, our worlds don’t really overlap. And that is why you are perfect for this,” Cady says. 

“And what exactly is this?” Janis asks, continuing to flick through the documents. 

“I need you to pretend to date me.” 

“I- what?!” Janis says, unable to hold back a laugh. “You- I- what?!” 

“Just hear me out, I implore you,” Cady begs. “I’m not exactly young anymore. I’m twenty-four, you know. My family has… expectations. I’m to be married by twenty-six, and the sooner the better. People, and the press, are beginning to talk. And they’re not exactly saying favorable things. When they talk, the common folk talk, and we… we can’t have that, I’m sure you understand.” 

Janis blinks at her. 

“Anyway, I just need someone to assuage the masses, and my family. And that’s where you come in,” Cady says with a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “All I need you to do is pretend to be my partner through Christmas. We’ll be ‘broken up’ by New Year’s and on our own merry ways. I’ll never even come through this part of town in person again if you say the word.” 

“I’m still… why… why me?” 

“You made it very clear yesterday that you have absolutely no idea who I am. The press will love seeing me dating a poor person, and the fact that we know nothing about one another will make our inevitable breakup much easier. And you’re someone I’ll never have to see again. I can fake our grisly separation, milk that for ten years so my parents won’t try to arrange my marriage to anyone and by that point I’ll be running the business and able to use that as an excuse.”

“Wow, you really have this all planned out,” Janis chuckles. “So… I just… have to…” 

“Pretend we’ve been together for about three years. For three weeks. And then I’ll pretend to propose, you say no and leave, I’m heartbroken, we never speak again.” 

“Propose?!” Janis yelps.

“Fake propose,” Cady amends. “So. Thoughts?”

“Why the hell would you think I’d agree to this? We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot yesterday,” Janis says. 

“Might help if you tied your shoes.”

“Not the time,” Janis hisses. “Look, as much as you think we’d never see each other again, your family owns half this city! They own my work, and-and my apartment building! If anyone knew about this they’d ruin me, and-and I can’t afford to move-”

“Nobody will know but us and a select few people, and everyone will sign a nondisclosure agreement.”

“Then-then your family will actually think I’m the kind of heartless monster who rejects a proposal around the holidays! They’ll- god, I don’t have a lawyer-”

“There’s a contract in there that states I will undo anything my parents will attempt to do in terms of legal or financial action against you for ‘breaking my heart’. And, quite frankly, they will not have a case in the first place. I’ve already signed everything. We may have a lot of property and stake over this city, but I mean it when I say that after that clock strikes twelve on Boxing Day you’ll never hear from any of us again.” 

“You realize this is a fucking crazy thing to ask of me, right? Like, this… this is weird,” Janis insists. 

“I am aware this is rather unconventional, yes,” Cady nods. “But I’ve covered every possible eventuality and you’re totally protected legally and financially speaking.” 

“That’s not what I mean,” Janis says. “Just… you want me, a complete stranger, to spend the holidays with you, pretend we’ve been dating for years, and then reject a proposal?!”

“That was the hope, yes.”

“Why would you ever think I’d agree to this?”

“Because I’m prepared to pay you one hundred thousand dollars for it,” Cady says. Janis balks at her.

“A hundred-”

“Thousand dollars, yes,” Cady says like it’s entirely obvious. “And there’s a clause in your contract that states you’re allowed to leave for whatever reason should you so choose between the date you sign it and the date of our scheduled breakup. And as long as you help me come up with an excuse and make it believable, you still receive full pay. And if you don’t, I’ll give you fifty thousand anyway.” 

“So… if I… agree to this,” Janis says. “I basically get a hundred thousand dollars guaranteed, and I just…”

“Pretend to love me for three weeks.”

“I…” Janis stutters. “Jesus. You know what? Yeah, okay.” 

Cady hands over a pen. “Excellent. I will need you to sign the NDA before you exit the vehicle just to guarantee nobody else finds out we had this little conversation, but the rest can be handled whenever is convenient for you. I’ve given you the number and address of my lawyers’ office, you can contact them if you have any questions and drop all the documents off there when you’ve signed them.” 

Janis quickly skims the NDA, and it sounds reasonable enough. Almost not daring to believe it, she signs on the dotted line and passes the page and pen back to Cady. 

Almost like she planned it, they come to a stop right outside the coffee shop practically the second the paper touches Cady’s hand. 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Cady says, giving another half-smile and shaking her hand. 

“Yeah, uh… you too,” Janis says, blinking in confusion as she accepts the handshake. Her jaw drops when Cady passes over a massive black binder as well. 

“Here’s all the information you should need in the coming weeks. Thank you again.”

“Anytime,” Janis says. Before she knows it, she’s blinking at a dust cloud down the road. 

What the Reese’s peanut butter fuck have I just gotten myself into?

—————

“Janis, hon?” Damian asks partway through his walk home from work. 

“Hm?” Janis hums softly.

“Why are you following me home?” 

“I need you right now,” Janis mumbles. 

“Mmhmm. And what’s with the binder?” Damian questions, walking a bit slower to let her catch up. 

“Why I need you right now,” Janis explains. Damian nods solemnly and lets her continue to slowly trail after him. 

Janis enters his apartment when he unlocks the door, leaving the binder and the folder on his coffee table and face planting into his couch. 

“So what’s-”

“Don’t look in the book!” Janis says, rearing upright when she hears him approach it. 

“Why not?” Damian yelps, scrambling away like the binder is apt to explode at any moment.

“Because I think that’s a felony,” Janis sighs. 

“…Say what?” 

“Sit,” Janis says. Damian plops onto his rug like a kindergartener waiting for story time. “Do you have any duct tape?” 

“Um… I think I have some tie dye patterned tape left from pride,” Damian says. “Why?”

“So I can stop you screaming,” Janis sighs. “Just promise you won’t?”

“You know damn well I can’t promise that, Janis,” Damian says. Janis sighs and nods. 

“So. Did you, by chance, um… happen to see what happened this morning?” she begins. 

“Um… no, there was a… young… gentleman in the shop I was, um… quite… focused- let’s just say no, shall we? What happened?” Damian says. Janis raises an eyebrow. 

“A gentleman?” 

“We’re talking about you at the moment, let it out, doll,” Damian says immediately. 

“Fine. But you’ll tell me if he was actually cute later. Anyway,” Janis sighs. “So. Let me set the scene.” 

Damian nods eagerly, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hands.

“I’m walking into work, cursing the world like normal, yadda yadda. Then, a guy behind me goes, ‘Ms. Sarkisian?’ and I turn, and it’s this, like… dude you’d see in, like, a movie. Full suit with the little…”

“Pocket square?”

“Sure,” Janis nods. “And the stupid little hat and white gloves and he’s all, ‘Get in the car please’ and I’m like, ‘I have no idea who you are or how you know my name, I’m sure as shit not getting in your car, Mr. Gloves’.”

“Obviously,” Damian nods. “Wait, how did he know your name?”

“Just wait. So I say no and turn to keep going and then someone else says my name and I’m starting to wonder how many people on the sidewalk know my name,” Janis says. “But this one is a woman, so I, er… checked.”

“Checked, eh?” 

“Checked,” Janis confirms with a glare. “And… it’s fucking her.”

“Her?”

“Cady Heron,” Janis says. Damian’s jaw drops. “And she seemed… less mad than yesterday, so I figured I’d take the chance to apologize for the whole… nutcase… sidewalk incident. So I got in probably against my better judgement and before I can even say sorry she’s… like, making a business proposal at me.” 

“A business proposal?” Damian asks. 

“A business proposal! And you know what she wants?!” Janis says. Damian shakes his head, looking at her imploringly. “I can’t tell you, because I signed a fucking NDA!” 

“You what?!” Damian says, leaping to his… knees. “Okay, so… legally binding document aside. What the fuck, Jan?” 

“I can trust you, right? Like, if I break this… legally binding document I appear to have signed you won’t tell people?” 

“No, obviously. We go to prison together or not at all, and orange is clearly not my color,” Damian says. Janis nods.

“You do have a winter complexion. Anyway,” Janis says, handing over the binder and folder. Damian opens it and peeks at the first few pages. “I have to pretend to be her girlfriend!” 

“You what?!“ 

“Calm down,” Janis says, like she hasn’t just dropped a major bombshell. “It would appear… that I’ll be spending Christmas with… the Herons. And pretending that I’ve been dating their daughter for three years.”

Damian tries to speak, but doesn’t seem to be able to form words. Janis doesn’t blame him. 

“I…” Damian says eventually. “Huh?”

“I know! What the hell was I thinking?”

“What were you thinking?!”

“She… is paying me a… not small amount of money,” Janis explains.

“How much?”

“Hundred grand,” Janis mumbles. 

“A hundred grand?!” Damian yells. 

“Shut up! You have neighbors!” 

“A hundred thousand dollars, Janis!” 

“Shut up! I know!” 

“Okay, so the why has been established,” Damian says with a disbelieving shake of his head. “Did she tell you how the fuck she thinks this is going down?”

“No, she just gave me the binder and said it had everything I need to know. I’m supposed to sign everything in the folder and drop it off with her lawyers and then… study, I guess.” 

Damian opens the manila folder and starts flipping through the documents. He doesn’t actually read all that much, to leave Janis and Cady with some semblance of privacy. And because Janis may be right about it being a felony for him to lay eyes on them. 

“In the event of your early demise?!” he yelps when he sees the phrase on one document. 

“What?” Janis says. “It doesn’t say that!”

“It does!” Damian insists. He hands the document over, and, sure enough, this one details what should happen with the money should either of them die during the duration of the contract. 

“What the fuck?” Janis whispers. “I can split the money between my loved ones if I list their names and contact information for their lawyers or give it to a charity of my choice if I die. And if she dies then I have to give the copy I keep of this to her lawyer so I can still get the money.” 

“Where the hell is she taking you? The fucking moon? How are either of these things a possibility?!”

“I dunno. I really hope it’s a ‘just in case of the worst possible scenario’ thing. She did say she had prepared for every possible eventuality,” Janis says. 

“Is she pretty?” Damian asks quietly.

“What?”

“Cady. You saw her up close, is she pretty?”

“I… yeah, I guess,” Janis replies. “She’s not not pretty, but she was so… impersonal, I guess. It kinda put me off a little bit. It really did feel like some kind of business deal.” 

“Wow,” Damian says. Janis can tell he’s already lost in his own fantasies, probably already drafting a fanfiction about this whole deal in his mind. Janis takes the moment of quiet to give the binder a first skim over.

“Oh my god, she has five brothers?!” Janis yelps. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, she’s the youngest. First girl, was a big deal when she was born,” Damian says. 

“They all have the same initials!” Janis says, frantically flipping back and forth between the pages. “How am I supposed to-”

“Wow, they look really similar,” Damian says, sitting next to her on the couch and peeking over her shoulder.

“Not helping!” Janis insists. “How am I meant to tell them apart?”

“Hope,” Damian says immediately. “Really hard.” 

“No, no, I can… I can do this,” Janis says. “Studying. It’s just like the SAT’s, right?”

“…Sure,” Damian nods. “Whatever makes you happy.”

“Oh, shut up!” 

—————

Janis is on a plane two weeks later. She settles further into her cushy seat in first class. It’s a long flight to Colorado, two whole hours, so she pulls out the binder to do a last minute crash course. 

Damian made flash cards, which helped more than Janis cares to admit. Janis thinks she has Cady’s entire family down to a t, but she knows there’s also a solid chance she’ll be so nervous she’ll forget everything she knows about her own family as soon as she lands. So she does some last minute studying just to be safe. 

She looks around suspiciously just to make sure nobody is peeking over her shoulder or anything. Nobody is supposed to know she knows Cady yet, and nobody is ever supposed to know that their relationship isn’t real. 

Luckily, she’s in a window seat, so she just leans in closer to the small pane of glass and flips to the first page. 

Cady’s oldest brother. Charles Jacob Heron The Fourth. Thirty-seven years old, loves… embroidered handkerchiefs, imported teas, and peanut butter. Interesting sounding guy. 

Next brother, Clifton Joseph. Thirty-six, likes boats, spas, and gambling. Janis is more than a little concerned by what that could mean.

Then, Clark James, thirty-two. Janis tries to remember his interests without checking the card. Fancy cars, skiing, and… 

She has to check for his third main interest. Scuba diving? Interesting. He certainly sounds more fun than the brothers Janis has read through so far. 

Cady’s next brother is Callum Jefferey. Thirty years old, already has three children, and enjoys… his wife and kids. And jet skiing. Huh. 

And last but not least is Chester Jeremiah. Closest in age to Cady at twenty-seven and seems to be her biggest competition. Competition in what, Janis can’t be sure, but… something. Chester likes fine art, the opera, and imported chocolates. Sounds like Damian’s kind of man. 

Janis intently studies their portraits, trying to find physical tells to keep them separate in her mind. They all look remarkably similar and Janis is not at all panicked. She has a full dossier on practically Cady’s whole family, (including the paternal grandmother she’s supposed to avoid at all costs) but she knows she’ll be spending the most time with Cady’s parents and brothers. 

“Clifton has… the ear,” she murmurs out loud to herself. “God, Charles, what are you about?!” 

Her seat neighbors are starting to look at her oddly, so she turns closer to the window and returns to her silent studying. 

All of the photos look like they were taken by the paparazzi. Maybe they were. How often does Cady actually see her family? 

She continues browsing, looking through the very detailed etiquette instructions. Shake hands, introduce yourself, shut the fuck up. Basically what it boils down to. 

Cady also gave her a list of ‘acceptable’ pet names and interactions. Baby, sweetheart, love, darling… Janis can put the pieces together well enough. Hugs are to be from the front or back only, side hugs look too platonic. Cheek kisses are acceptable, kisses on the lips will be discussed when they meet up in person. Holding hands is also acceptable, but only if their fingers are interlocked. Apparently, it’s also too platonic if they aren’t. 

Janis sighs and flips the book back shut. She frowns in confusion when the pages ripple and a little piece of paper is suddenly poking out the top. She hasn’t seen this before, so she grabs it to see what it is.

A letter. 

Janis,

Hi. It’s Cady. Nobody knows I’m adding this to your notes. So please don’t tell anyone, especially not the lawyers. If you’re a lawyer reading this, no you’re not. 

I just wanted to warn you. The paparazzi know someone is joining us for the holidays. They will be at the airport, and they will figure out which driver is ours. As soon as you get off the plane, people will be looking at you, and looking for you. 

Being in the public eye can be exhausting, especially if you’re not used to it. Just don’t answer any questions and try to ignore the cameras. I’d also advise you to stay away from the internet for the duration of your stay with me. The tabloids can and will be cruel, and having the internet at your fingertips is a blessing and a curse. Just trust me, and avoid them at all costs. 

Nobody knows your name yet, so the driver will have a sign with your name on it. Any other name is a fake and you should not get into their vehicle under any circumstances. 

If any of this ever gets to be too much for you to handle, please let me know. I’ll do whatever I can to help. 

Regards,

Cady Heron

Janis looks oddly at the letter once she finishes, and reads over it a few more times. It’s a bit strange, but either way, Janis decides to heed the letter’s warning. She tucks it back in between the pages and looks out the window she’s next to. 

The landscape is beautiful, she has to admit. They’re getting closer to Colorado, so most of it’s covered in snow. She almost can’t tell where the clouds ends and the snow begins. 

-

Before she knows it, the pilot is announcing their landing and she’s buckling her seatbelt. She watches the ground get closer and closer. She’s bracing, but she’s not sure what for. Landing has never been her favorite part of flights. 

But it goes as smoothly as a landing can. Janis grabs her carry-on and it only takes half an hour for everyone to get off the plane. 

She grabs her suitcase from the conveyor and heads out to the pickup area. My name. 

She walks past at least three cars bearing Cady’s name. She’s more than a bit concerned by how many people are earnestly trying to kidnap her. 

A few other names go by, and then she spies hers. It looks to be the same driver Cady had when she… borrowed Janis that morning last month. 

“Ms. Sarkisian,” he says when he sees her. 

“Yeah. Hello,” Janis says. “Nice to see you again.”

The man blinks in shock, seemingly amazed that she remembered him. “You as well, ma’am. Miss Heron is expecting you presently.”

Everyone around them starts murmuring at the mention of the H-word. The driver tenses, realizing he’s made a grave error. Cameras begin flashing around them. Janis looks around to see them, tilting her head as people start clamoring for her to look every which way and calling out questions one after another after another, so quickly she can’t pick the words apart. 

The driver beckons her into the car. Janis is so overwhelmed that she obeys without a word, desperately wanting out of the situation. Her bag is unceremoniously shoved in the trunk, and Janis is glad she didn’t pack anything fragile. She plops into her own seat with a huff of relief as the driver gets them going. Wherever they’re headed. 

“Ah, Janis, fantastic,” a voice says suddenly from behind her.

“Jesus fuck!” Janis yelps. 

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I trust your flight went okay?” Cady says as she clambers her way next to her from the very back seat. 

“I- yeah, it was fine,” Janis says. “Were you back there the whole time?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I absolutely had to accompany you,” Cady says. “People would talk if we didn’t arrive together. Tinted windows and blankets truly are wonders, aren’t they?”

“Uh… sure,” Janis says. “What-”

“If the paparazzi had seen me you’d never have made it into the car,” Cady says. “But I wanted to be here.”

“Thanks?” Janis says.

“That won’t do,” Cady pleads. “You can’t talk to me as if I’m an alien, nobody will believe us then.” 

“I’m sorry,” Janis says. “This is all just so… weird for me, still. I don’t wanna say anything wrong.”

“We can deal with you saying the wrong thing, it’ll be better than you not saying anything at all,” Cady says. “I swear you won’t offend me or anything. You can feel free to speak your mind.”

“Uh… okay,” Janis says. Cady glares at her. “Sorry, I’m sorry! It’s a lot of pressure!”

“If this is going to be too much for you please tell me now,” Cady says. 

“No, I can… it’ll just take me a second to adjust to all this, y’know? This is already… a whole new world to me. I’m a fish out of water, I gotta figure out how to breathe.” 

“Well, I’d suggest you figure it out quickly. We don’t have a very long drive,” Cady says. “It really shouldn’t be much different from what you’re used to.”

“I’d have to sell several of my internal organs to be able to afford this car.”

Cady purses her lips and nods. “Point taken.”

“I’ll be fine by the time we get there, I just… all I knew about you before this was what my friend Damian told me from reading about you in the magazines and stuff. It’s gonna take me a while to stop seeing you as a celebrity, and everything.” 

“I understand,” Cady nods. “Um…”

“You don’t have to tell me anything embarrassing to try to speed up the process,” Janis comforts.

“Oh, good,” Cady sighs. Janis chuckles. 

“So, the binder thing said you had some… rules you wanted to go over in person?” she prompts. 

“Oh! Yes, thank you,” Cady says. “It is important that this is all believable, but I don’t want to force you into anything you’re uncomfortable with. I felt it would be best to discuss what you’re comfortable with in terms of physical and emotional affection in person rather than just declaring how I’d like it to be.” 

“Oh. Thanks,” Janis says. “I mean, I’ll do basically anything for this amount of money.”

“So… if I pinned you against a wall in front of a crowd of society people and started making out with you, you’d be alright with that?” Cady says. 

“Uh- is… is that likely to happen?” Janis squeaks. 

“I mean, I’d probably pin you to a more secluded wall, but there’s always a chance that may come up and people will see,” Cady says. 

Janis ponders this. Cady prepared for every eventuality before even meeting Janis, she supposes there’s a few Janis herself should prepare for as well. “That makes sense, I guess. Maybe, like… we could have a signal, or something. Just so either of us can have a bit of warning before anything, er… intense? But just, like, regular kisses and things I think I’ll be alright being surprised with.” 

“A signal may be a good idea,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “How about this? One signal for… erm… naughty things. And one if either of us needs to be removed from public view or discuss something privately with the other?”

“Okay,” Janis nods. “What do you think they should be? I don’t really know what would be a good thing to do. What would be obvious, and everything.” 

“Um… maybe a wink, for… you know? If we do it right, that won’t be particularly noticeable. Do you have any nervous habits? We should avoid those.”

“Um… I guess I wring my hands a lot? And I move my lips, but I don’t think I have anything else,” Janis says. “I’ve never really had to pay much attention to stuff like that before, though, so I’m not sure.”

“I tap my fingers, so we mustn’t do anything with that,” Cady hums, crossing her arms and tightening her jaw in thought. 

“We both have pierced ears,” Janis says. “If we need to talk we could adjust our earrings. Or tug on an ear, or something.”

“Yes, that’s brilliant!” Cady says, eyes ablaze with delight. “Alright, that’s handled. Now kiss me.”

“What?” Janis yelps.

“People will be able to tell if we kiss for the first time in front of them. Even my parents,” Cady says. “We should get the first out of the way now to get any awkwardness about it out of our systems.” 

“Oh. Yeah, uh… okay,” Janis says. “Do you wanna… or should I…?” 

“Uhm… do you… want?” 

“I’m fine either way,” Janis mumbles awkwardly. 

“Oh, to hell with it,” Cady breathes. Janis’ eyes widen briefly as she suddenly winds her arms around Janis’ shoulders and smashes their lips together. Janis squeaks softly upon first contact, but tries to reciprocate. She needs practice, and all. 

It’s not a bad kiss, either. Cady’s very clearly inexperienced, which makes sense. She probably hasn’t had a huge amount of opportunities to make out with people in her lifetime, being a billionaire and all. Janis pointedly does not let her bring tongue into their first kiss, and Cady seems to calm down slightly after that. 

Eventually, they fade into a sort of rhythm. Push and pull. Cady starts following Janis’ lead. Janis reads Cady’s responses and adjusts accordingly. 

Janis almost regrets having to breathe when they’re forced to pull apart.

“Okay, yeah, um… that’ll… that’ll work,” Cady says, strangely flushed.

“Good,” Janis squeaks. 

Cady clears her throat and looks out the window, running her hands through her red curls to smooth them down and adjusting her pantsuit back to where it’s meant to be. “We’ll be there in a few minutes, do you have anything else you wish to know or discuss?” 

“Um…” Janis hums pensively. The book covered almost everything. “Do people know that I’m… uh…”

“They’re expecting a woman, if that’s what you’re trying to say,” Cady says. Janis nods. “I came out in high school, so everyone’s known I’m queer for years. And I told my family that I’d be bringing my girlfriend for the holidays this year, so they’re expecting you. I was hoping people would focus on that instead of the fact you’re poor.”

“Thanks,” Janis says, grumbling internally. She’s not poor. She’s just… admit it, you’re broke. “Do they not know I’m… not rich?”

“That they don’t know about,” Cady says. “I’d suggest you start learning to tune people out. My parents are going to judge us quite harshly, and my mother will probably say her judgements right to your face.”

“Eh, I’ve heard all the judgements before, it’ll be nothing new,” Janis shrugs. “People always have stuff to say about my makeup and clothes and tattoos and stuff.” 

“I’d still brace yourself. Things sting in a different way coming from my mother,” Cady sighs. Janis frowns as Cady seems to start bracing herself too. 

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Cady blatantly lies. She’s good. Janis almost can’t tell, but there’s an even stronger tension in her shoulders and her jaw is clenched even tighter than normal. “Thank you.” 

“Mmhmm,” Janis hums. 

They’re silent for the rest of the drive, looking out their respective windows at the landscape going by. Janis thinks they must be here when they pass through an ornate gate, complete with a person in a little box who comes out to let them in. 

But they keep going. And going, and going, and going. The road is thin and winding, but long as anything. Uphill, downhill. There’s a bridge at one point over what looks to be a very deep crevasse. Fun. 

Eventually, they come to a stop. Janis jumps a bit, having zoned out for most of the drive up, and undoes her seatbelt. The driver opens the door for her, and she climbs out of the car. 

“Holy shit,” Janis whispers when she sees the place. It’s absolutely huge. It could easily house a hundred people or more. “This place looks like a hotel.”

“Oh, it is,” Cady says, coming up next to her. “My family owns several. We stay at a different one every year for the holidays. I had to talk them out of the one in Switzerland this year.” 

“Jesus,” Janis says softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“Just wait until you see the inside,” Cady grins. “Ready?”

Janis looks between Cady’s small smile and her outstretched hand. She takes it with a nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

Cady heads up to the front door; about twice as tall as Janis and roughly eight times as wide. She wonders if the doorbell Cady rings is made of real gold or just plated. 

A maid opens the door after a few seconds. “Hello, Miss Heron.”

“Hi, um…” 

“Claire, miss,” the maid replies.

“Hi, Claire,” Cady says. 

“Please come in. I’ll let your parents know you’ve arrived,” Claire says. She leaves them in the extravagant foyer. Janis turns around to look at everything. 

Two sets of marble staircases lead upwards against either wall of the very large room. The ceilings are easily thirty feet high, met by elegant ivory walls and decorated with gold and diamond chandeliers. The rug for them to leave their dirty outdoor shoes on is a deep, rich red, covering a pristine floor tiled in yet more marble. 

It’s been precisely decorated, too. Garlands and white lights are wrapped around the railings to each staircase, and elegant silver snowflakes hang from the chandeliers. There’s a few family photos on the walls. If this is actually a hotel, Janis has a hard time believing they’re there all year round. They must’ve been brought in especially for the family’s stay. 

“Holy shit,” Janis whispers again. She jumps as a butler suddenly comes up.

“Madam Heron, a pleasure to see you again. May I take your coats?” 

“Yes, thank you… um…”

“Simon, ma’am,” the butler says politely.

“Thank you, Simon,” Cady says. She hands him their coats and waves him off with a hand. He shuts the front door behind them and goes off to hang them somewhere Janis can’t see. 

Claire makes a return then. “If you’ll follow me, Miss Heron, and your guest. Your parents are expecting you in the parlor.” 

Cady takes Janis’ hand again as they follow the maid through the winding hallways of the mansion. Eventually they make it to the back side, and Janis has to hold back a gasp. 

A majority of the lower floor of this half of the house is one large room, clearly used to hold dances or parties or other fancy events. The back wall is almost entirely glass; practically floor to ceiling. Janis looks through it to see the mountains a ways in the distance and the lake much closer. It’s all very beautiful covered in snow and ice. 

They keep walking until they reach an only slightly smaller room. Janis wonders if this is the rich people’s version of a living room or family room. 

Claire opens the doors and leaves them with a polite bow. Cady sighs softly and squeezes Janis’ hand, seemingly without realizing.

“Hello, father, hello, mother,” she says. Two figures who were chatting animatedly but quietly in the corner suddenly stop and look in their direction.

“Cady! So good to see you, dear, how was your flight?” the woman says. Cady’s mother. 

“It was fine, thank you Mother,” Cady replies, tone perfectly even. Janis doesn’t like this Cady. She sounds almost robotic, speaking that way, and she’s certainly tense enough to be. “How are the preparations for the party coming?”

“As they always do,” her mother says. 

“Hello, daughter,” Cady’s father says, pulling Cady into the stiffest hug Janis has ever been privy to witness. “How has your work been going?”

“I spoke of it to you on the phone yesterday, Father,” Cady says. “The status hasn’t changed since then.” 

“Oh, yes, you did, didn’t you? Well, it matters not,” her father replies. Cady bristles at that. Janis squeezes her hand gently, not knowing what else to do. Cady’s father looks at her, suddenly, and Janis rapidly understands why Cady is so tense. God, that’s scary. “May we help you?” 

“Um…”

“Mother, Father,” Cady says before Janis is forced to say anything.

“This is Janis Sarkisian. My girlfriend.” 

Absolute silence. Janis thinks she could hear someone drop a pin on the other end of the house. Cady’s parents scan her like something out of The Incredibles, scrutinizing every detail from head to toe. Janis tried to pick a nice outfit to wear on the flight. Dark jeans without holes, her classiest boots, and a soft cream colored sweater. The sweater is Damian’s, which they seem to take issue with. Among other things.

“Hello, Janet,” Cady’s mother says after several minutes of silent staring. “Cady, might we speak with you for a moment?”

“Yes, Mother,” Cady says. Nobody moves. 

“Alone, dear?”

“Oh. Yes,” Cady says. She lets go of Janis’ hand and follows her parents to the far corner of the room. Janis turns around to look at everything in this room. More family portraits on the walls. 

They aren’t smiling in any of them. Except one. Five young boys in matching dapper suits with red ties sit in a perfect row side by side, posture perfect even in the youngest who’s clearly no older than four. 

But in the very middle sits a tiny, chubby baby; with a wide toothless smile, precious freckles on her chubby cheeks, and fiery red hair to compliment her elegant green dress. Cady. 

Janis can overhear bits and pieces of the conversation Cady’s in the middle of with her parents. She looks over without actually turning around, just out of the corner of her eye. Cady is standing a good six feet away from her parents and anxiously tapping her fingers against her arm as they’re folded protectively over her chest. 

The words “unacceptable” and “peasant” come up a few times in rapid succession from the mouth of Cady’s mother, paired with burning glares in Janis’ direction. “Heathen” and “dangerous” also come up a few times, along with a hissed, “she’ll frighten the children!” which is a first. Janis quietly delights in the unintentional compliment. 

Cady seems to be defending her; much more softly but with just as much intensity behind her words. Janis hears her spit, “You have no idea who she really is. Give her a chance.” 

Cady tugs gently on her ear then, looking to Janis out of the corner of her eye. It’s not quite the circumstance she thought they’d be using their signal in, but Janis can understand why she is. It won’t make Cady’s parents like her, but saving Cady is worth it. 

“Should I take our bags to our room?” Janis asks, coming up behind Cady and kissing her cheek. Sure enough, Cady’s parents both look quite miffed with her for interrupting their very important discussion. 

“Oh, don’t be silly, baby, we have people for that,” Cady replies, resting a warm hand against Janis’ cheek and kissing her jaw in return. Janis feels her heart flutter the slightest bit at the pet name. Stop it, this is fake.

“Oh, right,” Janis says. “I forgot. Not used to… actually being in your world.” 

“How quaint,” Cady’s father says curtly. “The two of you may go get settled in. Cady, we expect you to join us for dinner.”

“Yes, father,” Cady says quietly. She takes Janis’ hand again to lead her out of the room. “Come on.” 

“Are they always like that?” Janis whispers as Cady leads her to the… elevator?! 

“Yep,” Cady sighs. “Fronting as a caring family, frigid behind the scenes.” 

“Nice,” Janis says. “Is the rest of your family already here?”

“No,” Cady says, leaning against the elevator wall and crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not sure of your background, or if you… come from a large family or anything. My parents can be overwhelming enough, and the house is a lot in and of itself. I wanted to be sure you’d have time to acclimate before throwing you into the den with my entire family.” 

“Oh. Thanks,” Janis says. Cady just nods and taps her fingers against her elbow.

“Here we are,” she says when the doors open with the fanciest ding Janis thinks she’s ever heard. “This way.”

Janis runs out after her, following Cady at her very brisk pace down the hall. 

“My brothers will start arriving at… I’m not sure, but some point next week with their families. I trust you checked the binder?” 

“Yeah, I did. Memorized as much of it as I could.”

“Really?” Cady asks, turning briefly to look at her over her shoulder. “I’m impressed. That was quite dense.”

“Yeah, I, er… did my best.” 

“Anything will be appreciated, I’m sure. Anyway. My brothers always spend at least a few days with us for the holidays, but we’ll be here by far the longest. So you have all the time you could want to enjoy the area. And my grandparents will probably arrive as close to Christmas day as possible. Beyond that, it’s just going to be us and my parents for quite a while.”

“Sounds nice,” Janis says. “And when are we expected to be, like, in public together?” 

“As soon as possible,” Cady sighs. “Here’s our room.”

“Holy shit,” Janis whispers. 

“Are you going to say that every time I show you something?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Well, I’m glad I know that now,” Cady says with a faint chuckle. She heads over and falls backwards onto the bed. “We should try to do something public tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. The media’s probably already buzzing about you at the airport. We need to be seen together in person before too long.” 

“Where will we go?” Janis asks. Cady pulls herself back to a sitting position and folds her hands against her knees.

“Wherever you want,” she says with a small smile. 

——-

Janis is awake and presentable bright and early the next morning per Cady’s brief. To be fair, it’s ten in the morning, but that’s still early by Janis’ vacation standards. 

“Morning,” Cady says when Janis walks into the dining room in hopes of some breakfast. “You took a while.”

“I got lost,” Janis says sheepishly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cady says frantically. “I should’ve waited with you, I didn’t even think of that.”

“No, no, it’s totally fine. One of the butlers saved me. Your second parlor is really nice, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Cady says, smiling at her oddly. “I’m sure you saw some of the photos, then?”

“I did,” Janis nods. “You’re the only redhead?” 

Cady nods, tugging subconsciously on her auburn curls. Cady’s parents, and all her brothers, have dark blonde hair. Cady’s brownish-red hair is a stark contrast, to say the least. 

“I am. My paternal grandmother was a redhead too,” Cady sighs. “I hated it when I was young. And I went blonde for a time in high school, if you can believe that.”

“Really?” Janis chuckles. “Why?”

“It was… just how it went,” Cady says quietly. Janis gets the sense she shouldn’t press this further. It’s clearly an uncomfortable memory for Cady. “Bleaching it did so much damage. I’ve only just gotten it grown out to an acceptable length.” 

“What’s an acceptable length?” Janis asks. 

“This, basically,” Cady says with a shrug. “According to my mother I look uncivilized if I have it too much longer and like a heathen if it’s any shorter.”

“Your mother seems really judgmental.” 

“It… comes from a place of love,” Cady replies. “She wants the best for me and the best of me.”

“Well, if her reaction yesterday was anything to go by, I’m clearly not that.” 

“And that’s exactly the point,” Cady says with a mischievous smile. Janis smiles back. 

It’s quiet for a bit. Neither of them quite know what to say to each other now. Janis stares at the empty place on the huge wooden table in front of her, as if staring hard enough will materialize some breakfast before her eyes. To be fair, it seems a likely possibility in this house. 

“So, um… no family breakfasts?” Janis says awkwardly.

“Oh, heavens, no,” Cady says. “Everyone’s much too busy for that. Dinners are a must, but beyond that we simply eat meals whenever we have the time to. Oh, speaking of which, what would you like? The chefs will prepare you anything you could want. And if we don’t have something, we’ll send someone to fetch it.”

“Anything?” Janis questions. 

“Anything,” Cady confirms. 

“So… if I wanted… scrambled eggs but made with eggs from Japan?” Janis asks.

“We’d send word to Japan,” Cady says with a nod. “Do… is that what you want?”

Janis almost says yes, just to see how that would work. In actuality, she says, “No, no, I was just curious. Um… normal… American scrambled eggs would be fine, though.” 

“American scrambled eggs it is,” Cady says. “Anything else?” 

“No, thanks. I’m not really a big eater in the mornings,” Janis says. “Wait, is it… should I just eat what you had? I don’t want the cooks to have to make something special for me.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” Cady says. “It’s what they’re paid to do. And I didn’t eat breakfast, anyway.”

“You didn’t?”

“I seldom do, I get so distracted,” Cady sighs. “Eggs do sound quite nice, though, I might have to request a portion of my own.” 

“How do they know what to make?” Janis asks.

“I’ll just put an order in,” Cady says like it’s obvious. Janis frowns in confusion. “To the app?” 

“You have an app?” 

“Yes, of course,” Cady says. “My brother, Clark, is quite good with programming and computers and such. So he designed an app for the servants. My mother even uses it. Much more dignified and easy to manage than yelling across the mansion, or… I don’t know, using bells or whistles or something.”

“That’s cool. I kinda would’ve thought whistles would be more your mother’s speed,” Janis says. 

“Oh, they were for years. Have you ever seen The Sound of Music?” Cady says. 

“She did not,” Janis says, jaw dropping. She has seen that movie. Damian made her watch it before he recreated the entire thing in a one man show just for her. Janis stopped letting him have white wine after that. 

“She did! We all had signals,” Cady says with a quiet giggle. “Anyway. Do you have any food allergies? The kitchens will sanitize everything to ensure you get a safe meal.”

“Um… no, I’m just lactose intolerant. But I can handle milk in small doses, so… no need to sanitize just for me,” Janis says.

“Are you sure? It’s a lengthy process, but there’s other kitchens on the premises. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Cady says. 

“I’m sure. As long as I don’t, like, eat a block of cheese or pint of ice cream I’ll be fine,” Janis says. 

“Alrighty then,” Cady says, pulling out her phone and entering the order. “Two scrambled eggs with no dairy. Anything to drink?” 

“Water is fine, thank you,” Janis says softly. She’s not in a restaurant, but it’s too similar for her to feel comfortable ordering anything but water. 

“And two waters. Coming right up,” Cady says. 

“That’s really cool,” Janis says, peeking at Cady’s screen. “Your brother designed this himself?”

“Yep. Clark’s never been one to accept much in the way of help with his work. He doesn’t care for our father’s business, but he’s done wonderfully with his own freelancing,” Cady says, clearly very proud of her big brother. “He designed these for use when the hotels are actually in service as hotels, but they’re still quite useful for our stays. All I have to do is say what room in the house I’d like a dish or item brought to and then wait.” 

“Sounds handy,” Janis says. Cady nods. 

“It is, quite. Anyway, it’ll be… er, about ten minutes,” she says. Janis nods. Cady nods back, and they’re back to silence. 

-

Breakfast is more than a bit awkward. Janis compliments the food, Cady smiles. Beyond that, they say nothing. 

“Oh, hey, um…” Janis says as she takes her last bite. Cady looks up from her phone expectantly. Janis drops her voice to a whisper, just to be safe. “How many people know about this?” 

“Oh,” Cady says. “You and I. My drivers, my security guards, and my lawyers.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. It would be unbelievable if many more people than that had to keep our secret. But they’ll be the people closest to us, so I figured that would make things easier on us. Less… paranoia, I suppose.” 

“Makes sense. Um, I’m ready to go. If you are,” Janis says. 

“Are you sure?” Cady says. “Forgive me for saying so, but I’m not absolutely convinced you’re aware what you’ll be getting into once we leave the property.” 

“I know I’ll have to watch everything I say and everything I do and that I should expect at least ten sets of eyes on me at all times,” Janis says, quoting from the binder almost word for word. “And I know I’m expected to act like I’m in love with you but not too much so it’s still realistic.”

“Okay, I seem to have underestimated you,” Cady chuckles. “You really did memorize it?”

“As much as I could,” Janis nods back with a smirk. 

“Nicely done,” Cady says softly. “Then I suppose we should go.”

“My lady,” Janis says sarcastically, offering Cady one of her arms to hold onto.

“Oh, don’t you start. And I should be leading you, Miss Got Lost Half an Hour Ago.”

“Fair enough.” 

—————-

“So have you given any thought as to where you’d like to go?” Cady asks as they watch the landscape shift from isolated mansion to populated suburb to cute little downtown area. 

“Not really. I don’t really know what’s around,” Janis says. “But… it would be fun to go somewhere you’ve never been before.”

“That impish look scares me,” Cady says. 

“Nowhere dangerous. But you don’t seem like you’ve been much of anywhere around this place, quite frankly.”

“I haven’t,” Cady acknowledges. “Shall we just drive around until we find something?” 

“That’ll work,” Janis nods. 

They both settle in and look out their respective windows, on a hunt for an acceptable Christmassy date destination. Cady’s driver takes them through the winding back roads of the neighborhoods. 

“Oh,” Cady gasps suddenly. “What is that?”

“A Christmas market?” Janis says, leaning over to look out Cady’s window.

“How sweet,” Cady says. “It’s beautiful.” 

“It is,” Janis agrees. “Should we go there?”

“I suppose it’s as good a place as any,” Cady says. “Lots of people.” 

“Yeah,” Janis acknowledges around a lump in her throat. She did know in theory what she was getting into, but the reality of being seen in public with Cady is setting in now. There are a lot of people at the market. Couples, families, people running various booths, single people doing some Christmas shopping at the quaint little stalls. All of it makes for quite a crowd that has Janis shaking in her snow boots. 

She has no more time to prepare as Cady climbs out of the car and starts slowly walking towards the market. She pauses after about three feet and turns to look at Janis. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Mmhmm,” Janis hums, nodding frantically. “Yeah, I-I’m good.”

Cady tenderly picks a bit of lint off Janis’ shoulder before she takes and squeezes her hand. “You’ll be fine, I promise. It’s overwhelming the first few times, but after a while you hardly notice it.”

“I’m more worried about what the media is gonna have to say about me,” Janis says. “They’ll probably think I’m corrupting you or something.” 

“Some probably will,” Cady agrees bluntly. “But… you know what is true and what isn’t. As long as you believe that, that’s all that ever truly matters.” 

“That’s deep,” Janis says, trying to lighten the mood. 

“These people do not actually matter in the slightest, I promise you,” Cady says, slowly continuing their walk over. “You’ll be but a passing trend.” 

“That does help,” Janis says. 

“Just try to enjoy yourself,” Cady says. “This is just a normal date.”

“Date,” Janis squeaks. “Right.” 

Eventually, they’re standing smack in the middle of the center. There’s loads of shopping booths selling all sorts of holiday-related trinkets and food and other goodies to the right, a Santa for the kids to meet straight ahead, and even a few activities like ice skating and an ice slide to the left. 

“That tree is huge,” Janis says in awe.

“It is,” Cady says. “It could rival the ones my mother has brought in every year. It’s beautiful.” 

They stand and admire the very large Christmas tree for a few moments longer before they start walking over to see what the booths have for sale. 

“Oh, these little Santas are darling,” Cady says when they walk past one selling little china figurines. “My mother collects Santa figures.”

“Really?” Janis chuckles. 

“Mmhmm. She has hundreds, from everywhere,” Cady says, picking up one with a blue coat covered in snow. “Do you make these?”

“Uh… y-yeah,” the stall attendant says, blinking at Cady in awe. “Um- my-my grandmother and I do. Spend the year making them to sell here.”

“They’re so cheap!” Cady says. “You should charge more for your handiwork!” 

“I-I… we… we only charge what we need to turn a profit, ma’am,” the teenage boy says. 

“Well, that’s no way to run a business,” Cady scoffs. “What are your markups-”

“We’ll take this one, please,” Janis interrupts before Cady can interrogate the poor kid about his entire business practice. He nods frantically and carefully wraps it in bubble wrap so it won’t break. “Thank you. Merry Christmas.”

Cady protests as Janis drags her away from the booth. “Hey! I was just trying to-” 

“Cady, he clearly is not doing this for the money,” Janis says. “He’s doing it to get reactions like the one you had when you saw the figurine. To make people happy, and to do something with his grandmother to bring in a bit of extra money for his family. He doesn’t need you explaining how to turn it into a multi-million dollar Santa Claus making empire.” 

“But he really could take it so much further if he just-”

“Cady, listen, I respect you a lot,” Janis says. “But I also have the perspective of a normal person. They don’t want business talk, okay? They want you to say something nice about what they sell and buy something, maybe chat for a bit, and move on.” 

“Was I rude?” Cady asks softly. 

“…Yeah, a little,” Janis says. “Your heart is in the right place, but… give the business stuff a rest for Christmas, okay?” 

Cady is quiet, but she nods and squeezes her hand. Janis squeezes her back. 

“You okay?”

“Yes,” Cady says immediately, though she’s still looking pointedly at her boots trudging through the thin layer of snow on the brick path. “When you find somewhere natural to, kiss me.” 

“What?” Janis laughs. 

“Don’t look, but someone to our left and a bit ahead is filming,” Cady says. Janis dares to sneak a peak, and sure enough, some passerby has her phone out, shamelessly recording them in broad daylight. 

“Jesus,” Janis tuts. 

Somewhere natural. Conveniently, one of the strands of lights they pass beneath has mistletoe dangling from it. Janis pretends she’s admiring the snow fluttering down and points to the mistletoe. 

Cady smiles and stops in her tracks, grinning up at the plant as she wraps her arms around Janis’ waist and stands on her tippy toes. Janis smiles back and gently cups Cady’s neck in her hands before pulling her into a soft kiss. 

Neither of them stop smiling even when their lips meet. Janis picks Cady up and spins her around, making Cady squeal with a laugh. “Jay!”

“Jay, eh?” Janis whispers, kissing her again. She leans in to whisper in Cady’s ear. “Should I act like I don’t want to be doing this so it makes more sense when we break up?” 

Cady smiles like she’s just whispered something sweet into her ear and leans in to whisper to Janis. “No, we’ll just say you weren’t ready for the commitment.” 

“Oh, great,” Janis chuckles as Cady kisses her cheek. “Is this enough to appease the masses or should I start licking your ear or something?”

“Please don’t do that under any circumstances,” Cady giggles. “I think we’re good. Paps will start arriving seconds after she posts that video, though.”

“I think I’ll live,” Janis says. She kisses the tip of Cady’s nose for good measure, and Cady kisses her knuckles as they start walking again; looking pointedly at everything except the camera and trying to act like they never noticed it. “Can you always tell when you’re on camera?”

“Just about,” Cady says. “My security taught me tips to look out for, so now I can almost always pick out who in a crowd is either already or going to start taking photos or recording. It’s just something you come to expect after long enough.” 

“Sounds like it would get old pretty quick,” Janis says sadly.

“It does,” Cady agrees. She chuckles slightly, more a loud exhale than much else. “Every time I get dressed in the morning I have to expect billions of people around the world to see it.” 

“I’m clearly not used to that,” Janis says.

“No, you look great!” Cady says. “Professional but comfortable. It works for you.” 

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in anything except a suit,” Janis chuckles. 

“Hey, they always match and they always have the professionalism I should,” Cady says. “I like my suits.”

“I like them too,” Janis says. “It’s just nice to see you in something else.”

“I am much more comfortable,” Cady chuckles. “Pantsuits are itchier than you’d think.”

“I can imagine,” Janis replies. “They… er, suit you, though. So to speak.”

“Thank you,” Cady giggles. “God, this place is lovely. I can’t believe I’ve never seen it before.”

“It is really cute,” Janis says. “I’m not usually a fan of stuff like this, but this is really nice.”

“Not usually?” Cady asks. 

“I’m not really a huge Christmas person,” Janis shrugs. “Something like this probably would’ve made me nauseous in high school.” 

“Really?” Cady giggles. “What’s different about this one, then?” 

“…I’m not sure.” 

“The company?” Cady teases, knocking gently against her side. Janis turns to look at her with a smile. 

“Nah, I think this one just has a better smell.”

Cady gasps indignantly. “How rude!” 

“I’m teasing,” Janis chuckles. “Better get used to that.”

“Hmph.” 

“Oh, come on,” Janis pleads. “I know what’ll make you feel better.” 

“What are you- oh, what is that smell?” Cady says, all her anger fading as soon as she gets a whiff of warm cider and cookies. 

“Hi,” Janis greets. “Two ciders and… what kind of cookies do you like, Caddy?” 

“They all smell so nice,” Cady says. 

“Thank you, Miss Heron,” the woman behind the booth says. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Oh, please,” Cady says with a smile. “I’m just as honored to meet you, I’m sure.” 

“Much better,” Janis whispers in her ear. She chases it with a kiss on the cheek so it looks natural. “Have you ever had a snickerdoodle?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“It’s a kind of cookie, baby,” Janis chuckles. “Do you have samples?”

“Oh! Oh, um… for you, of course,” the woman says.

“Oh, no, we’ll pay for it,” Cady says immediately. 

“No, no,” she says. 

“We insist,” Cady says. 

“And I’m paying, I don’t mind,” Janis chuckles.

“What? No you aren’t,” Cady says. 

“Try me.” 

“I’m the billionaire here, honey.”

“And what are people going to say if you don’t let me pay for anything? They don’t know our history, they’ll just think I’m some random person you found on the sidewalk who’s after your money!” 

“You might as well be,” Cady says teasingly. 

“How long have y’all been together, if I may?” the woman asks as she hands Janis a snickerdoodle. 

“Going on three years,” Janis says with a smile. She takes the cookie and pinches off a chunk to give to Cady. 

“How sweet. Y’all are just darling,” the woman says. 

“Oh my god,” Cady says in awe. “This is delicious!”

“I told you,” Janis chuckles. “And thanks.” she says to the woman. “Two?”

Cady nods eagerly. “How much for the lot?” 

“Hm?” the woman replies squeakily. 

“My family would love these, how much would it be for all of them?” Cady insists. “And do you have a permanent shop somewhere? I’ll have to mention you to my father.” 

The woman looks to Janis in shock, seeming to check if Cady’s being serious. Janis has no idea, and shrugs. 

“Um… we sell the cookies for two dollars apiece, so… call it a hundred for… all of them?” the woman says hesitantly. 

Janis hands over ten to cover their ciders and cookies, and Cady forks over five hundred. 

“Oh, there’s too much-”

“Nonsense. Use the rest on your family if you’d like, or yourself. Maybe make some more of these. Did you say you have a shop?”

“Yes, I-I have a bakery with my daughter-in-law,” the woman replies. “On seventh street. Caroline’s Cookies.” 

“I’ll pass along my recommendations,” Cady says. The woman looks around, seeming quite flustered, before she just pulls the entire tray out of their warming bin and offers it to her. Cady motions one of her guards over. “Take this back to the car, please. And feel free to have one if you’d like, they’re quite delicious. Thank you, ma’am. Merry Christmas.”

“Um… Merry Christmas to you as well,” the woman says, waving in confusion as Cady and Janis pick up their more reasonably sized portions of cookie and drink and head off to continue browsing. 

“Caddy?” Cady asks as soon as they’re out of earshot of anybody. 

“Yeah. No offense, but your name is spelled weird,” Janis says.

“None taken,” Cady says. “My parents were very committed to us all having the same initials.” 

“I can tell,” Janis chuckles. “It’s cute, though. But, yeah. You’re Caddy now.”

“I like it,” Cady grins. Janis smiles back until Cady suddenly turns to her in a panic. “Oh, back there, that wasn’t rude as well?!”

“No, no,” Janis says soothingly. “Bit… odd, maybe, but not rude. If you’re gonna do anything to a small business owner, buying their entire stock of something is probably the best option.” 

“They’re so good,” Cady says around a mouthful of cookie. “Oh, dear, I know that’s rude. Excuse me.”

“Nah,” Janis chuckles. “Would almost be endearing if it wasn’t gross.” 

Cady laughs under her breath as she continues chewing, swallowing before she speaks this time. “Everything here is… amazing. And to think I never even knew it existed until today.” 

“Sometimes you just gotta stop and smell the Christmas trees,” Janis shrugs. “Lucky we found it.” 

“Lucky indeed,” Cady says. “And the Christmas trees smell wonderful.” 

“They do,” Janis agrees. “Kinda makes me want a real tree.”

“You have an artificial one, then?” Cady asks as they wind their way through the rows of Christmas trees for sale by a local tree farm. 

“Yeah. Damian and I decided a real one was too much effort for us. And it’s cheaper to just get one that’ll last a few years than blow a bunch of money on a real one that’ll just die in a month anyway.” 

“Damian?” Cady asks. Janis looks at her when she hears a slight panic in her tone. “You’re… in a relationship?!”

“No! No,” Janis says immediately. “God, no. He’s just my roommate. He’s too gay to function. And… obviously gay in the wrong direction.” 

“Oh,” Cady breathes. “God, I didn’t even think to check that.” 

“Well, now you know for next time,” Janis jokes. Cady glares at her. “And… for the record, there hasn’t been anyone.”

“Ever?”

Janis shakes her head. “I was always kind of off-beat in school, so I didn’t have many friends in the first place. And then I made the mistake of coming out when I was in eighth grade, and then I didn’t have any friends at all. So I never really had the opportunity. I had a couple flings in college, but nothing serious. And now I work too much to really have time.” 

“Oh,” Cady says. 

“What about you? If I may ask,” Janis asks softly. They’ve made sure to whisper any sensitive information, but she’s still paranoid about someone listening in. That woman filming them without a care in the world has really thrown her off her rhythm. 

“I’ve never really had much chance either,” Cady says. “Couple brief things here and there, and one girlfriend in high school. There’s more booths this way.”

Well, that’s just about the best non-answer Janis has ever gotten. She decides not to press any further and follows Cady along to look at some more little trinket stalls. 

“Do you collect anything?” Janis asks. “Like your mother?” 

“…Yes,” Cady says quietly, almost like she’s embarrassed. “I collect snow globes.” 

“That’s cute,” Janis says. Cady shrugs.

“Do you have any collections?” 

“Not… really,” Janis says. “Um… I collected state quarters in middle school, I still have my special map in my mom’s attic somewhere. Paintbrushes, I guess. I keep all of them even when I can’t use them anymore.” 

“You paint?” Cady asks softly, looking at her curiously. Janis nods and swings their interlocked hands between them slightly. 

“Yeah.” 

“Just yeah?”

“No,” Janis sighs. “I just… after I came out I was bullied, like, pretty severely. Everyone called me a space dyke because some kid asked me what I was one day and all I could think of was to say I was a space alien with four butts.”

“Clever.” 

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles. “Needless to say, it didn’t go over very well. I got pulled out of school after a while and put into art therapy. So… that’s where painting started for me.” 

Cady hums sadly. “Are you any good?” 

“I like to think so,” Janis says. “Not good enough to make anything off it, though.”

“So that’s why you work at the café?” Cady asks. Janis nods. “Hm.”

“Why were you there?” Janis asks. “When we… um… met.” 

“I’m currently working for my father,” Cady says. “All of us have. When we graduate from university, or… reach a certain age, in Clark’s case, our first job is working for him. It’s helpful to learn business strategies and how to manage things, as well as working skills in case we don’t launch our own billion-dollar enterprises someday. We do that for a year and then we’re left to our own devices.

“And he owns the café, among other businesses in the city. So he sent me along to check up on things and make sure everything was up to our standards.”

“Was it?”

“Well, there was a certain employee I mentioned among a few strong words,” Cady hums. “But I appear to have judged her too quickly.”

“She did the same,” Janis says softly. 

“Did she?” Cady asks. “Hm. We’re being followed, by the way.” 

“How do you-”

“Security gave me a signal, it’s not me being a mind reader. I can’t see backwards,” Cady giggles. “It’s nobody dangerous, this time, just some paparazzi.”

“This time?” 

“Oh, yeah. I only have security because I was kidnapped when I was seven,” Cady says like that’s perfectly normal. “We all do, now. My father’s had a few close calls with assassination attempts and such.” 

“You were kidnapped?!” 

“Only for a while. They actually treated me remarkably well,” Cady says. “I had more candy in those four hours than I’d had in my entire life previously, it was awesome. People are desperate, sometimes. Ransom is a good, quick way to earn money. They knew my father had a lot.” 

“So your father just paid them off?” Janis asks in shock. 

“Oh, heavens, no! No, of course not,” Cady chuckles. “He just called the secret service and they handled it quite quickly.”

“Like… the secret service the president gets?” 

“They were friends at the time, it was a personal favor.”

“You should write a book.”

“You should probably kiss me again,” Cady sighs. Janis kisses her mittened knuckles and looks around. 

“I have a better idea,” she says, running ahead to the sleigh rides being offered. Cady squeaks in surprise and starts running after her. “How much?”

“Up to you. All we ask is that you make a donation to our animal sanctuary if you think we do a good job,” the sleigh driver replies. “Helps us take good care of the horses and their buddies.” 

“And… and the horses are safe?” Cady asks shakily. 

“I can assure you they’re very well trained, miss. You’ll have a smooth ride,” he says. “This here is Butterscotch. She’s a little older, so she’ll give you a nice calm trip.” 

“Okay,” Cady says softly. 

“You wanna go?” Janis asks gently. Cady looks at her, and Janis can see genuine fear in her eyes. “I’ll be right there with you, it’ll be alright.” 

“I don’t like horses,” Cady mumbles.

“We don’t have to go,” Janis offers quietly. “If it makes you uncomfortable. But hundreds of people ride these every day and they’re perfectly fine.” 

“I want to,” Cady says, a bit bolder. Janis grins and kisses her cheek. 

“Good. Hop up,” she says. Cady squeals a bit as she suddenly hoists her up and into the sleigh. Janis hears camera shutters go off a ways away and hopes she doesn’t look too weird lifting Cady practically over her head. Cady pulls her into the sleigh after her and greets her with a sweet kiss as she tosses a blanket over their laps to keep warm. 

The driver sets Butterscotch off to a trot. Cady squeals in fright as they start moving, but she calms down as she gets used to it. 

“So… does it say anywhere in those contracts that we can’t get to know each other?” Janis asks after a while.

Cady looks at her oddly. “Surely you already know everything about me you’d want to.” 

“I don’t,” Janis replies. “Oh, hey. C’mere.” 

“What?” 

“Just in case,” Janis says. “You said the paparazzi are after us.” Cady still looks confused, but she does rest willingly against Janis’ shoulder. “And… now nobody but us can hear what we’re saying.” 

“Smart,” Cady says. She gently laces their fingers together and smiles down at their hands. “Now seriously, there can’t possibly be anything you don’t already know about me, I put everything…” her tone drops to almost a whisper even though nobody can hear them. “In the book.” 

“Yeah, exactly. I know book stuff. I know everything I could’ve found on the internet if I cared enough about billionaires to look you up. I know about your family, and your history, and your business, and what we were talking about earlier. But I don’t really know about you,” Janis says. “And I think if we’re gonna convince people for these three weeks, you should know a couple things about me. But I’m a lot less interesting.” 

Cady considers this before she nods gently. “Yeah, alright. Have you ever considered entering my field? You have quite a mind for business.” 

“Maybe on the surface,” Janis snorts. “I’m terrible at math, though. I think business has too many numbers for my tastes. And I thought you never wanted to see me again as soon as we’re done here.” 

“I suppose that’s fair,” Cady giggles. “Not business then. Do you actually make decent coffee?” 

“I do,” Janis nods. “Coffee, tea, hot chocolate. Basically the menu at the café, I can do pretty well.” 

“Uhhuh. And how much of that is the stock the company purchases?” 

“Your father has good taste for his companies. But it takes a skilled hand to be able to turn that into something people can actually drink,” Janis says.

“Really?” 

“No,” Janis laughs. “I push buttons on machines and it makes stuff happen.” 

“You liar, I was actually starting to believe you!” Cady chuckles back. 

“I thought that’s a big business thing, being a good liar?”

“True. You sneak,” Cady giggles. 

“I do make good stuff though. Have to make my own at home,” Janis says. 

“Hm. Interesting,” Cady hums. “Well, I suppose that was my turn. What do you want to know about me?”

Shit. What does Janis want to know? She wants to know about Cady, but… what about her? 

“Janis?” 

“Sorry, I’m thinking,” Janis says. “Um… what’s- uh… your… favorite shape?”

“My favorite shape?” Cady chuckles. “What is that gonna tell you about me?”

“You can tell a lot about a person by their favorite shape! Now come on, what is it?” 

“Circles are nice,” Cady says. “But I think… stars? I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it before.”

“Stars are pretty good,” Janis nods.

“So… what does that tell you about me?”

“That you… like… stars.” 

Cady rolls her eyes. “Brilliant.” 

“Well, look, it’s a lot of pressure! Not every day you get to talk to a billionaire one on one!” 

“Just pray you never become an interviewer,” Cady replies. “I will answer anything within reason. You have signed an NDA.” 

“Anything, huh?”

“Mmhmm. My turn, though,” Cady says. “What’s… something you’d never do no matter how much I offered to pay you?” 

“Skydive,” Janis says immediately. 

“Really? Not a thrill seeker, then?” Cady hums happily. “I did mean, like, between us, but that’s… good to know, I suppose.”

“Oh! Duh,” Janis says. “I thought you meant, like, in general.”

“No, no, that was a good answer!” Cady says, gently knocking against her. “What else?” 

“Hey, that’s two!”

“So you’ll get two, come on.” 

“Fine,” Janis huffs. “I won’t… like, do anything that would… hurt. Physically. Like, if you asked me to break my arm or something. Not doing that. And I won’t hurt you. And I wouldn’t… take some mystery drug that might start the apocalypse.”

“What?!” 

“I dunno what you billionaires get up to in your free time,” Janis says immediately.

“You think the apocalypse would start with a drug? And that I have it?”

“I don’t know, it could happen!” Janis defends. 

“You’re very strange,” Cady hums. 

“Says you.” 

“And rude.”

Janis just raises an eyebrow. Cady huffs and turns the other way, but she’s still firmly tucked against Janis’ side. “My turn?”

“If you must,” Cady grumbles crankily. 

“What makes you smile?” Janis asks softly. Cady tips her head up to look at her. 

“Smile?”

“Yeah,” Janis confirms. “I wanna know what kinds of things make you happy.” 

“Why?” 

“Because heaven forbid I care about you the slightest little bit over the next few weeks,” Janis teases. “I should at least know a couple things so I can do them. Make this seem realistic and everything.” 

“Oh.” Cady says softly. “Um…” 

Janis feels her heart pang the slightest bit as Cady genuinely has to think about her answer. The slight hurt only grows with every second that ticks by. 

“My nieces and nephews,” Cady says eventually. “Always make me smile. And… most of my brothers and sisters-in-law. And I watch videos of animals that are best friends when I get sad.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Janis chuckles. “Which one’s your favorite?”

“There’s a… cheetah and a golden retriever,” Cady mumbles sheepishly. “They grew up together.” 

“That’s cute,” Janis says softly. “Anything else?” 

“I like to eat. I usually smile then,” Cady says. “And I… I don’t know, beyond that.” 

“Well, we’ll just have to find some stuff, then.” 

“Yes, I suppose we will. My turn.”

“Hey, I get two questions!” 

“And you did. If you want to get technical, you got three,” Cady says. “You asked what makes me smile, what video was my favorite, and then if I had any other things.”

“Fine,” Janis pouts. “Ask away.” 

“Tell me about… erm… the friend of yours you mentioned earlier,” Cady says. 

“Damian?” 

“Yes, him,” Cady agrees in such a tone that Janis knows she immediately forgot his name. 

“Okay. I met him when I was in first grade,” Janis says. “I broke his nose.”

“You what?!” 

“He said girls couldn’t punch. I just proved him wrong,” Janis shrugs. “We were best friends after that. We grew up together. A couple other friends came and went for us, but he was always the one I could count on. When we got older we’d always be each other’s beards when we needed one and stuff. Our parents say we’re platonic soulmates.”

“And you’re both queer?” Cady asks gently.

“Yeah. I’m a lesbian and he’s the gayest man to ever walk the face of the Earth,” Janis chuckles. 

“Have you told him about this?” Cady asks. Janis tenses. Will Cady take legal action if she tells the truth? She did sign that nondisclosure agreement. But lying to Cady can’t be a good thing to do either. “It’s alright if you have. If you trust him I suppose I have to as well. And if need comes we can have him sign an NDA too.”

“He’s trustworthy. He does talk too much, but he knows not to tell anyone about this,” Janis says. “We tell each other everything, I had to. And he absolutely loves your family, by the way.” 

“He does?” Cady asks, looking up at her. 

“I think you’re more important to him than the Kardashians, and that’s saying a hell of a lot,” Janis says. Cady laughs. “He reads all the news stories and watches all your interviews and stuff. You’re definitely his favorite. You can do no wrong in his eyes.”

“Really?” Cady asks. “The news and interviews I’ve done don’t exactly portray me in a positive light.” 

“And he is beyond pissed about that,” Janis says. “Every time something new comes out that makes you look bad I’m subjected to him ranting about it while I try to do my job. He’s gone for an entire shift more than once.”

“Maybe I should have asked him to do this instead, then,” Cady says with a small smile. 

“He would’ve for your sake,” Janis snorts. “I told him I’d try to get your autograph for his Christmas present.”

“He sounds lovely,” Cady says. “Might need more than an autograph.” 

“He can be lovely when he wants to. Most of the time he’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Do you talk about all your friends so kindly?” Cady asks teasingly. 

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles. “It’s how I show affection.”

“Hm,” Cady hums. They both startle a bit when they suddenly come to a stop. They look up to see that they’ve finished their allotted loop around the downtown area already. “Oh, it’s over.” 

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” Janis says, loud enough for the driver to hear her now. “Come on, we should finish shopping and head home.” 

Janis climbs out of the sleigh first, and gently picks Cady out after her. She gives her a spin and kiss before she sets her gently on her feet. 

“Thank you,” Cady says to their driver.

“Not a problem, miss.”

“What is your goal for donations this year?” Cady asks, still making sure to stay well out of the horse’s reach. 

“We’re hoping to hit ten thousand over this season, that should get us through the next year,” he replies. “Any amount you can give is appreciated.” 

“Mm,” Cady hums pensively. “Let me make a call.” 

“Um… okay,” the driver shrugs. Janis watches as Cady steps out of earshot and pulls out her phone. She can just about make out the words ‘ten thousand’ and ‘yes, I’m serious’ from this distance. 

“Right,” Cady says as she hangs up and returns. “I obviously can’t give you that much money in person, but we can start with… oh, this,” she says, forking over another huge wad of money. “And someone from my lawyer’s office will be visiting your ranch in the coming days to make sure it’s all up to standards and give you the rest of the money, if that’s alright with you?” 

“The… the rest of the ten grand, miss?” 

“We’ll call it fifteen for luck, and in case the people here are more stingy than you’re accounting for,” Cady hums. “As long as you’ll use it to keep Butterscotch in the manner to which she’s accustomed.” 

“Most of it, absolutely,” the driver says, seeming a bit shaken by what he’s just heard. “A-are you serious, ma’am?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Of course I am,” Cady sighs. “Anyway. Merry Christmas, thank you.”

“M-merry Christmas,” the driver replies, waving back at them as they head back towards the market hand in hand. 

“Are you allowed to drop this much money on random strangers?” Janis asks quietly. “This is all adding up really quick.”

“I’m a billionaire, Janis,” Cady chuckles. “What we’ve spent today is just a fraction of what I earn in a month. And to answer your question, I may do whatever I like with it once it crosses from my father’s hand to mine, thank you very much.” 

“Alrighty then,” Janis nods. 

They continue browsing the booths as they slowly start making their way back to the car. They each pick up a few things. Cady gets a small stack of books from a miniature bookstore and explains they’re all for one of her nieces. Janis picks up a few things she hopes, based on what little information the binder provided her, Cady’s family members will like. 

They dodge paparazzi as best as they can in the meantime, trying to make their conversation look more interesting than it actually is and adding in the occasional kiss or small cuddle. 

With a bottle of wintery artisan perfume for Janis’ mother, they decide to conclude their shopping for the day. 

The driver is waiting for them when they return to the car. He helps them deposit their bags of goodies into the trunk next to the cookies and opens the back door for them to climb in. 

“Well, that was satisfactory, I think,” Cady sighs as she pulls off her beanie inside the warm car. “Nicely done.” 

It’s almost odd, now, being on the other side of the large car from Cady after spending hours practically glued to her side. Or her lips. 

“Thanks,” she replies. “How often do we have to do that?” 

“Oh, not very,” Cady replies. “If we do it too often it’ll come across as fake. So… once a week at most, if that.”

“Great,” Janis sighs, slumping down in her seat. It took more out of her than she was expecting. 

“You can rest now, if you’d like. I’ll wake you up when we get back.” 

“Yes, please and thank you,” Janis hums contently, pulling off her mittens to rest over her eyes and settling in for a short cat nap. 

God, being rich is exhausting. 

—————

Janis calls Damian when they get back to the… hotel? House? Both. 

“You’re such a good actress!” Damian yells as soon as she puts the phone to her ear. She winces a bit at the loud noise directly against her eardrum. 

“What?”

“The pictures and stuff from the date you went on!” Damian says. “You guys really look like you’re in love with each other.” 

“Those are already out?” Janis asks.

“Yeah? When was the date?”

“We literally just got back,” Janis says in confusion. “I mean, it’s like a half hour drive and it took me another five minutes to get up to our room, but… like, literally just crossed the threshold.” 

“Seriously? Damn, that is quick,” Damian says. “You guys make a cute couple.” 

“Don’t get too attached,” Janis chuckles.

“Where is Cady now? Is she listening in? Are we being spied on?” 

“Not by her, but probably. I don’t think the security people trust me,” Janis says. “I’m half expecting them to give me a pat down every time I leave our room. Cady’s… working… somewhere, I dunno. She went off in another direction when we got back.”

“Weird,” Damian says.

“Nobody else is here, we don’t have to keep up appearances,” Janis replies. “So… did the pictures have, like, words? To accompany them?”

“Some,” Damian says casually.

“And am I being slandered? Dragged through the coals?” Janis asks. “I’m too scared to look for myself. You have to be my window to the outside world through all of this.” 

“I accept and I am deeply honored.” 

“You already talk like Cady does,” Janis snorts. 

“Wait, seriously?” Damian asks.

“Yeah, everyone in her family I’ve met so far talks like they’re stuck in a novel or something. Fancy words.” 

“Who have you met so far?” Damian asks. 

“Just her and her parents. Her brothers are supposed to come over the next couple weeks,” Janis says. 

“How are the ‘rents?” 

“Some of the tensest people I’ve ever seen,” Janis says. “They hate me.”

“Aren’t they supposed to?” Damian asks.

“Yeah, but not yet,” Janis replies. “What are they saying online?” 

“Um… gimme a sec,” Damian says. “Cady Heron in a relationship with… those bitches! You are not trailer trash!”

“They said that?” Janis replies, unable to hold back a laugh. “I mean, I guess I kind of am by comparison.” 

“Oh, someone on Twitter says you’re pretty,” Damian says. “Um… have you ever done crack?”

“What?!”

“Never mind,” Damian says. “Might be worth a try, though.”

“What the hell are you-”

“Definitely stay away from the internet for a while,” Damian interrupts. 

“Okay? What does that have anything to do with crack?” 

“Maybe just avoid both.”

“Noted,” Janis sighs. “Are they all that bad?”

“Most of them,” Damian says. “But hey, what do they know?” 

“You are always saying they don’t know anything,” Janis says. 

“What is she like?” Damian asks. Janis can practically see him lying on his stomach and kicking his feet back and forth like a teenage girl sharing the latest gossip. 

“She’s… she… uh…”

“Beyond words?”

“In some ways,” Janis says. “She’s just… uh… she… I-I don’t know. She’s much different than she sounded in all the news stories you read me.”

“I told you! I told you they’ve always been wrong about her, I knew it!” Damian cheers. 

“She’s… interesting. And she’s, like, surprisingly easy to make conversation with,” Janis continues. “And she seems… nice. I guess. She bought all of the snickerdoodles from a baker like it was totally normal.”

“It probably is for her,” Damian says. “Were they at least good cookies?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janis says. “Nothing on yours, but a close second.” 

“That is the correct answer,” Damian replies. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too. It’s weird not being home,” Janis sighs. “I mean, this place is amazing, but it’s just… I dunno, not normal.” 

“It’s only one year,” Damian comforts. “And you know damn well we aren’t celebrating until you’re here.” 

“You guys are ridiculous,” Janis chuckles. “God, what does my mom have to say about all this?” 

“She doesn’t know yet,” Damian says. 

“Good.”

“She might not even find out unless one of us tells her, your mom’s never been one for social media or anything.” 

“That’s true,” Janis sighs.

“What did you tell your family?”

“That I’m spending Christmas with a girl and not to check the news for three business months.” 

“Smooooooth,” Damian replies. “You know Julie’s gonna find out.”

“I know,” Janis sighs. “I’ll think of some better way to explain this to them without getting them hounded by lawyers.”

“If today is anything to go by you’re gonna want to get on that quick.”

“It’s scary, honestly,” Janis says with an ironic chuckle. “Don’t they have to edit the pictures first?”

“Gossip waits for no man.” 

“Sadly true.” 

Janis looks up when there’s a faint knock on the door. Cady comes in behind it, but ducks back out when she sees Janis is on the phone. 

“Dame, I gotta go,” Janis says, motioning Cady back in when she peeks through a crack left in the door. “I’ll call you back later.”

“Is it her?”

“Yes,” Janis huffs with an affectionate eye roll. “Love you.”

“Tell her I say hi! And that I really admire her strength!” Damian says. “Oh, love you too. Bye.”

“Hi,” Janis sighs as she hangs up the phone and plops it into her lap. 

“Hello,” Cady greets. “Sorry for interrupting.” 

“It’s fine. Nothing important,” Janis shrugs. “Just Damian.”

“Your friend?” 

“Yeah. He says hi, by the way,” Janis chuckles. 

“How sweet. Hello back,” Cady says with a quiet giggle. 

“What’s up?”

“Bad news,” Cady sighs. “My parents want you to have dinner with us tonight.”

“Okay,” Janis says. “Is… is that it?”

“I was hoping I could save you a while longer, I did my best to get you out yesterday, but they’re absolutely insistent about tonight and-”

“Cady,” Janis chuckles. “It’s fine. Part of the deal, I’ll manage. How bad could it be?” 

—-

Janis quickly learns exactly how bad it can be. 

The first ten minutes or so pass in absolute silence, which would be nice if it didn’t feel like an omen of things to come. The only sounds are muffled (and very polite) chewing, forks hitting impossibly fancy plates, and Cady occasionally inhaling like she’s about to speak before she decides against it. 

At least the food is good. Really good. Janis is willing to bet something like this would cost her at least a hundred dollars in a restaurant. And she gets it for free every night for almost a month. 

She locks eyes with Cady across the table at one point. Cady looks back as she chews a mouthful of her salmon. Janis tries to surreptitiously shift her eyes to Cady’s parents, trying to ask if she should make conversation or something without speaking. Cady shakes her head slightly and gives a small nod in the direction of her mother. 

Janis dares to sneak a glance as she cuts off another bite of her own fish. Mrs. Heron’s eyes are firmly on her plate. Janis half expects to see it spontaneously combust under the intensity of her glare. 

Her fish isn’t faring much better. For a woman who puts such emphasis on manners and politeness, she’s absolutely mangled her poor dinner. Janis quickly learns why as she sees her sawing at the delicate fish with terrifying aggression. Aggression that Janis knows is entirely aimed at her. 

Janis jumps a bit and tries to play it off when Cady’s father suddenly clears his throat a bit and says, “So… um.”

“Janis, father,” Cady supplies quietly. 

“So, Janis, tell us about your family,” Mr. Heron continues. 

Janis freezes with her fork halfway to her mouth and politely rests it back on her plate. “Oh, um… it’s much less interesting than yours, sir. I have a little sister, she’s eighteen. Graduating high school in the spring. And then there’s my mom.”

“And your father?” Mrs. Heron asks in a tone Janis can only describe as snooty. 

“My biological father passed away when I was four,” Janis says softly. “And my stepfather is… erm, we don’t know exactly, but somewhere in Arizona. He left when I came out.” 

Mrs. Heron’s eye twitches slightly at the mere mention of a stepfather, especially an absent one. Mr. Heron seems to regret opening a conversation at all and quietly returns to his dinner. Janis looks at Cady apologetically, but she shrugs and mouths, “You tried.” 

“The salmon is amazing,” Janis says, giving another feeble attempt at… something. 

“Thank you,” Mr. Heron says when neither his wife or daughter respond. “We pride ourselves on our chefs.” 

“I see why.”

Everyone gives a small nod and continues eating. It feels almost like a scene in a movie before a car comes crashing through a wall or something else spectacularly dramatic. 

But an astounding amount of nothing happens, and the rest of the meal passes in silence. 

—-

“So. See what I mean now?” 

“Oh my god,” Janis groans as she crawls into the large bed next to her. “That felt like if I breathed wrong some nuclear missile was gonna go off or something. Tensest meal of my life.”

“You’ll want to get used to that,” Cady chuckles. 

“I’ll be able to do brain surgery after this trip. Face anything with steady hands.”

“This was actually a more pleasant dinner,” Cady says thoughtfully. “I’m honestly surprised my mother hasn’t torn into you yet.”

“Me too. I’m waiting for it every time I turn a corner,” Janis chuckles. 

“I’m sorry,” Cady says suddenly. “I don’t want you to be so… on edge.”

“Part of the job,” Janis replies. “I can handle whatever she says, I just don’t like the whole element of surprise.” 

“Are you sure? I knew I should’ve prepared you for them more-”

“Cady, it’s fine,” Janis says. “It’s three weeks. They might be taking years off my life in terms of my cardiac health every time we talk, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m very glad it’s you that bumped into me on that sidewalk.”

“Me too,” Janis says. “But you totally bumped into me.”

“I did not!” Cady scoffs.

“You did! You were off like a shot, you ran me over!” 

“Wouldn’t have been an issue if you weren’t standing in the way,” Cady huffs, crossing her arms over her chest as they both stare up at nothing in the darkness. 

“I was only in the way because I needed into the building you were catapulting yourself out of.”

“And you could’ve waited your turn!”

“The windows are tinted, I couldn’t see you until the door almost broke my nose!” Janis defends. 

“I did not almost break your nose.”

“You could’ve,” Janis pouts. “Or my ass.”

“Your ass is fine.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey!”

—————

The rest of that week passes relatively smoothly. Meals are always awkward, but Janis has close to free reign to explore the impossibly large property at her will. Damian gets lots of pictures of the mountains, and Janis takes a few extra to use as references for paintings later. 

The next Saturday, Janis gets to meet the first of Cady’s brothers. She and Cady are chatting in the parlor and munching on the (very few) leftover snickerdoodles from their date at the market. 

“Auntie Cady!” a voice calls. Janis watches as Cady smiles and turns around. She smiled with her eyes. Janis hasn’t seen that before. And god, does she want to see it again. 

“Who is this?” Cady asks, looking at a young boy and an even younger girl. 

“It’s me! It’s Lennox!” the boy says. 

“Mm,” Cady hums suspiciously. “I don’t think so. The Lenny I know is only about this tall.” She holds up a hand to demonstrate. “And he wasn’t missing any teeth!”

“I grew! And I lost my tooth, see? The tooth fairy brought me stock in Netflix!” 

“You grew?!” Cady asks like it’s the most shocking thing in the world. “Let me see. Same hair.” She ruffles it with a hand. “Same eyes. Same cute smile. Lenny?!” 

“Yeah!” Lennox says eagerly. Cady laughs and wraps him in a hug. 

“My favorite little guy, I missed you!” she says. “And if that’s Lenny, then… this must be Fifi!” 

The little girl shrieks happily as Cady picks her up and spins her around, her blonde braids whirling around behind her. 

“Hi,” Cady grins when they come to a stop, looking at the girl still in her arms.

“Hi, Auntie Cady,” the girl replies. “You gotta, um… you gotta… um… meet, um… Nomie.” 

“Oh, my god, I do,” Cady says. Janis watches in slight confusion as she kisses the little girl’s cheek and puts her back down. A woman approaches with a tiny baby in her arms. “Oh, she’s beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” the woman replies. “Naomi Charlotte.” 

“Hi, Naomi,” Cady murmurs, gently stroking the baby’s head. “Happy almost first Christmas!” 

“Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?” Cady asks. The woman nods and gently passes the baby over. Janis is watching curiously until she feels a small finger prodding at her leg. 

“Hey,” Janis greets.

“Who are you?” Lennox asks suspiciously. The girl crosses her arms behind him like a hype man. 

“I’m Janis.”

“Oh my god,” Cady gasps. “I completely forgot! Janis, this is my nephew Lennox, and my nieces Fiona and Naomi,” she says, gesturing between the girl and the baby. “And my sister-in-law Madeleine, and my brother Callum.” 

“But who’s she?!” Lennox insists, pointing to Janis. 

“Lennox,” Callum scolds. “Manners.”

“Excuse me miss,” Lennox says politely. “Who are you?”

Callum rolls his eyes fondly. “Apologies, we’re working on it. Callum Heron, pleasure.”

“Janis Sarkisian. Same,” Janis replies, trying not to wince at the very firm handshake she receives. 

“Janis is… my girlfriend,” Cady says, walking over and smiling at her. She leans in for a kiss, which Janis returns. 

“Girlfriend?!” Madeleine says. Janis braces. Are they homophobic?  “And you didn’t tell me?! Cady! What happened to sisterhood?”

“You know how it is, Maddie,” Cady chuckles. “I’ll tell you everything over tea tomorrow. I promise.” 

“You’d better. Give me my baby back,” Madeleine says. 

“No. My Naomi,” Cady refuses, turning away when Madeline approaches to take her back. “Fine. I’ll just take… this one!” 

Fiona squeals happily as Cady picks her back up. “Auntie Cady!” 

“What?” Cady says, holding Fiona on her hip. 

“Daddy’s mean.”

“Daddy’s mean?” Cady says, grinning at her brother. “Well, we can’t have that. What did he do this time?” 

“He maked me sit in my car seat the whole entiwe time!” Fiona says in exasperation. “And! And-and he says I don’t getta have any mowe cookies!”

“No more cookies?” Cady gasps in horror. 

“Today! I said no more cookies today,” Callum huffs. “She’s already had six!” 

“Six cookies?” Cady asks, looking at the little girl just to put the whole story together. 

“Wittle cookies,” Fiona defends. 

“Little cookies,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “Well. Far be it from me to undermine your daddy’s parenting.”

“Auntie Cady!” Fiona whines. “Pwease?” 

“But I suppose,” Cady says dramatically. “That…”

“I don’t count,” Janis says, catching onto where Cady’s going with this. Something tells her getting into these kids’ good books is very important, so she offers the little girl one of the cookies she and Cady brought. “Here. I’ll undermine your dad’s parenting anytime.” 

“Thank you Miss Janis!” Fiona says eagerly, wiggling to be put down. Janis grins and accepts the offered handshake the toddler gives. 

“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Janis chuckles. Lennox gets a cookie too, and they both bounce up and down eagerly. “Sorry, Callum.”

“At least Cades gave it a rest,” Callum sighs. “Merry Christmas, baby sister.”

“Merry Christmas, big brother,” Cady replies with a conniving smile. 

“We’re gonna go get settled in. Nice to meet you, Janis,” Callum says. 

“You too,” Janis nods. 

“Auntie Cady, will you play with us?!” Lennox asks eagerly. “I brought my new fire truck!” 

“Oh my gosh, of course! But you should go get settled in with your family first. Come find me in a little bit and I promise I’ll play fire truck with you,” Cady replies. Lennox pouts the slightest bit, but he follows his father towards their rooms. She crouches down as Fiona tugs on the leg of her pants. “What’s up, Fifi?” 

“I like Miss Janis,” Fiona whispers conspiratorially. She’s not quite gotten whispering down, since everyone around can hear her. Cady smiles.

“I like her too. Go find your family,” Cady whispers back, kissing her niece’s cheek and sending her off to find her parents with a gentle pat on her back. “Sorry about that, I should’ve warned you.”

“No, it was fine. You can’t know when any social interaction is going to happen. They seem nice,” Janis says.

“Yeah,” Cady says, grinning faintly at the carpet.

“You really love those kids,” Janis says quietly. “Was cute.”

“I do,” Cady nods. “They’re exhausting, but they’re sweet kids.”

“How old are they?”

“Lenny’s six,” Cady says. “Crazy. He was born yesterday. Fifi’s three, and Naomi is… ffffffour months? Around there.” 

“Cute. Perfect spacing,” Janis chuckles. “Does anyone else have kids?” 

“Yeah, Charlie and Clif both have kids too,” Cady says. “You’ll meet them later. They’re slightly less tiring.” 

“Cool,” Janis replies. Cady smiles at her and nods. 

“Cool.”

[alecsalamander]

19 and 25 for the writer asks, please (:

oh gosh 🫠 hi hello you’re too cool for me and the forsaken and the forsworn is SO GOOD 🫡thank you so much

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

i started telling stories in 1993. my mother bought me a puppet set for christmas and i used the puppets to act out my favorite movies (the neverending story, but the book version rather than the movie. i was a bleak child) and then later i told my own stories with those same puppets (i still have them).

after that i learned to write them down. i used kid pix and storybook weaver (my beloved!!) to place pictures where i didn’t yet have the language capabilities. i wrote down every single part of the magical world in my head because the real world was so fucking lonely (my brother and i were latchkey kids raised in the sort of neighborhood where you couldn’t play outside or you might get shot. we didn’t go to friends’ houses because they were ALSO latchkey kids. we didn’t have anyone over. for the first ten years of my life it was me and my brother and the make believe worlds we invented).

i started posting fanfiction online in 1999 after my online rp friends told me about it. in high school i tried to invite friends to enjoy my writing too, and my best friend told me i was amazing. a week later she ‘accidentally’ forgot to hang up when leaving me a voicemail and i heard all of my friends discussing how i was terrible and awful and wouldn’t know a good story if someone wrote it for me and put my name on it. i stopped sharing with people who could look into my eyes after that.

(except my brother. he’s never counted.)

i kept sharing online though. i liked the safety that came from not having to tell when people were lying.

as for where i am now? i have an entire complete urban fantasy series i’m terrified to publish because it’s been around since high school and i can’t help but believe what those assholes said about me back then. in my head i’m going to be a real published author one day because these worlds are too vast to be only inhabited by me, but in actuality??? bro idk i’m neurotic and i have a god complex and also a lot of trauma.

i guess my therapist and i can talk about this on wednesday 🤪

WOW sorry for writing you a whole entire novel here…

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

despite the color i use to represent him/associate him with being yellow, wednesday only wears muted earth tones. it has no bearing on the story, it’s never mentioned, there’s literally no point to it, but i’ve known this fact for 17 years now.

[squadrah]

Originally I was trying to keep these all within the same price range, keep most gifts made around the same time, and give the same amount….it was hard so I gave up and had my OC just get whatever amused them. I also tried to keep them impersonal or things you’d just overhear someone at a bar just mention or could be implied to like. Also I believe they value different things from price, quantity etc so really it just got more and more personalized till I kinda forgot the whole thing. Also there were originally pictures with everything but tumblr doesn’t like that so please settle for my descriptions. Also sorry for poor spelling.(I’ll send you some of the pictures privately and you can post them with their sources if you so desire.)

Risotto: Risotto receives three small gifts wrapped in simple black paper with golden bows. The first is a surprisingly heavy rectangle box inside is a set of 4 stainless steel knives two of the knives possessos hollow insides for one another to rest in. One of the non hollow knives serves as the center for the two hollow ones, while the last knife merely serves the purpose of a more filling edge for the largest hollow blade.

The other two gifts appear to go together. One is a small booklet about felting for beginners with several patterns to begin with, the other gift is a set of small supposed felting tools and cutters along with a plethora of colorful felts snug together.

Formaggio: Formaggio's gifts almost gave away what lies within with how closely they’ve been wrapped in obnoxious orange paper. The first gift is a small bowl with odd looking groves around, once wine from Gelato is poured in it reveals the shape of a cat.

The second and oddest shaped gift reveals to be a white cat with brown paws holding two strays likely for holding random objects.

The last gift was a simple light pink pillow with the words ”Are you kitten me right meow?” 

Prosciutto: Prosciutto received a dark purple gift basket with only a red satin scarf hiding the contents inside. The most notable item was two 8 oz boxes Ospina estate coffee “premier grande cru”  a very well known and expensive brand. The other was a black cup with a white skull at the very bottom. 

Pesci: Instead of wrapping his were put into a reusable burlap sack with a minnow swimming towards a fishhook drawn on it. Inside sat a tea spender with a shark fin on top, next were two tuna cans one filled with blue tuna themed paper clips the other appreid to be some kind of emergency kit with bandages, a pencil, matchsticks, a fish hook, along with miscellaneous small items. Lastly, a crab shaped pocket tool.

Ghiaccio: Ghiaccios gift were simply put in a black duffle bag with blue writing reading “Hold on let me overthink this.” Leading to a sad bag getting kicked before being ripped open. On top of everything is a box of A. Morin Dark chocolate tasting box underneath sits three resistance bands, two sets of four weighted bangles one set of five bounds the other ten. Another small set of kettlebells weighing 15, 25, and 35 lastly, new white punching bag gloves with odd triangles poking out of where the knuckles sit. Later that night it is revealed there is a set of 3 workout dice hidden in one of the pockets.

Melone: Melones gifts were wrapped a purple robe inside the arms of a giant (6.5) pink teddy bear with a brown bowtie. Inside the blanket sat a book of how to mix tea along with 18 small tins of dried separated ingredients supposedly for said tea. Lastly three non alcoholic drinks (three spirit social elixir, three spirit liviner, and Acid league Proxies pastiche)

Illuso: illusos gift was placed in a flat dark blue box on top of which sat a random assortment of local restaurant vouchers. Inside the box sat a necklace with blue sapphires, red rubies and diamonds . (exact words from a sight describing said necklace because I can give no justice.: An Important Sapphire, Ruby and Diamond Fringe Necklace by Bulgari. Set to the front with fourteen oval-cut sapphires (100 carats total approx., Burmese unheated, Gubelin certified) and diamond clusters interspersed by cabochon rubies and diamond trefoils, suspending eleven similarly-set graduated tassels, to the circular-cut diamond and cabochon ruby necklace, mounted in 18kt yellow gold. Signed Bulgari, made in Italy, circa 1965.)

Sorbet: Sorbet's gift was in an assorted set of neutral tones paper with bright colored ribbons attached. The first gifts were a set of two black and white coffin planters with a small bag of soil attached. Next was a small wooden box with gold certified playing cards with possibly an American president on the backs of them. Lastly, was a flat cardboard containing 5 million lira.

Gelato: gelatos’ gifts were in a simple ice chest bursting with colorful wrapping paper peeking out of a very fancy bottle of Limoncello ( D’Amalfi Limoncello Supreme). Buried underneath where night shot glass with an X on half O on the other half, “Whiskey bullets' ', and a black flask with" I finally quit drinking for good. Now I drink for evil.” written. At the very bottom was a set of steel knuckles with each ring shaped like a card suite.

This was amazingly detailed and fascinating! Thank you, holy heck, you put so much effort into this and I loved it, and now I get to share with everybody! <3

[awesomehymieschniklefritzme]

THE FIRST DATE

We stop off first at Jack In The Box, for some tacos before the movie. It makes me feel proud to pay for it. I ask her about the pictures on the wall. She tells me the guy in the Navy uniform was her father, he left them when she was like four or five years old, and she doesn’t remember much about him. She had another sister, an older one, who died of bronchitis when she was nine years old, that her mother worked two jobs, cleaning toilets by day, and offices at night. Her great grandmother was 102 years old, and had outlived two husbands. And she was thirteen when she was, Miss Teen Puerto Rico, in San Juan, but nothing ever happened with it after that.  

I ask her why she doesn’t enter beauty pageants anymore, that she could definitely be Miss America. She smirks and says she doesn’t have time for that anymore, she’s got to make that money. And besides, only White girls ever get to be Miss America. By the time we finish eating, I feel more comfortable with her than I ever have before. I still don’t know what movie we’re going to see, though.

We get to the Liberty Theater, and there’s a double feature playing - Death Wish and Lipstick. Esperanza says she’s really looking forward to seeing Death Wish, and everybody’s been talking about it. Besides, she says she thinks Charles Bronson is so sexy. I go to get the tickets, while Esperanza stands off a little to the side.

“Can I see your ID?” asks the skeletal old black lady, at the ticket booth.

“Whadaya mean - ID?  Why do I need -”

“These movies are rated R, you got to be at least seventeen to get in here, unless you’re accompanied by a guardian.”

“Accompanied by a guardian?!  This is ridiculous. (I lower my voice) Of course I’m seventeen, I’m a senior at Roselle High.”

Well, I still got to see some ID.”

Panic starts to set in. I pull myself closer to her face, and lower my voice to a whisper.

“Please lady, gimme a break here; I’m on my first date with this girl - I -”

“I’m sorry, but it’s my job.”

“What’s the problem, honey?” Esperanza interrupts.

I - I forgot my ID,” I cut in, before the lady has a chance to say anything.

A slight scowl crosses Esperanza’s face. I immediately feel my johnson retract deep inside my tighty-whiteys.

We do get in, and I get the popcorn, trying to revive some vestige of my compromised manhood. But the embarrassment I just suffered there, feels like a mortal wound. As we sit at our seats during the coming attractions, I can’t even make myself look at her. She peeks at me with a sympathetic smile.  

“Don’t worry about it, papi.”

My johnson expands just a little bit, a tiny portion of relief spreading over me. About five or ten minutes into the movie, there’s this pretty brutal scene where these junkies break into Bronson’s NYC apartment, rape his daughter, and kill his wife. I look at Esperanza, who’s motionless - and emotionless - then mumbles something in Spanish under her breath.

Suddenly, a wave of intense fear, then nausea, breaks over me. Scenes of the rape I witnessed last year, of Butch Finnegan in the high school bathroom, race vengefully and unexpectedly through my psyche. Fuck! I can’t believe this! I’ve buried those thoughts way out of my consciousness for the past year, and now, suddenly, I’m replaying them?! Or rather, they’re being replayed for me. Against my will, with all the same stomach-numbing feelings and reactions accompanying them. I’m silently battling with myself to remain conscious; holding down what I’m sure is going to be a torrent of vomit.

I just want to reach out and put my arm around Esperanza, I want – need - somebody to hold me, but I can’t do it. Every time I just about build up the courage, the inclination to make the move, Bronson shoots another thug! Esperanza would be lurching forward, nearly spilling the popcorn to the floor, shouting:

“Yeah, get him! Get that motherfucker, papi!”

The second movie, Lipstick, is starring this supermodel, Margaux Hemingway, in her first featured role as - what else? A model that gets raped by her little sister’s music teacher. And then as the movie ends, she winds up blowing away the guy’s guts all over the parking lot with a shotgun! Just as he now attempts to rape the little sister.  The lights go up and everybody in the theater cheers victoriously. After four hours of rape and revenge, though, I feel drained and emotionally spent.  Usually, violence doesn’t really affect me…why am I reacting this way?  What am I - a punk? A pussy?  A twinge of shame shadows over me as we walk silently to her car, and now driving quietly too. With only occasional peeks at each other, and quick (nervous on my part) smiles to break the spell. The gnawing sense that I have failed her in some way hounds me still, making me doubt that there has ever really been any chemistry at all. We cross over into Roselle, down First Avenue, heading to my house. Damn! I didn’t even get to kiss her tonight…and now I’m never going to see her again.

[kaileywritesstuff]

Prompt #9: Put two people who hate each other in an elevator together for twelve hours. What happens? (Written February 26, 2023)

“God damn it!” Emily screamed, banging her fists against the elevator wall. “Of course I’d be stuck in this fucking elevator with you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Sadie asked from the opposite side of the elevator. 

“It means, I cannot stand you and I have no fucking clue when we’ll be getting out of this metal trap.” Emily slid to the floor and hid her face in her hands.

“Do you think I’m happy about this? I am going to miss an important meeting if we’re stuck here much longer. But, since we are stuck together, the least you can do is stop acting like this is the end of the world.”

Emily slowly looked up at her from behind her dark curtain of hair. “I’m just going to put my earbuds in, close my eyes, and pretend that I’m not having to spend my time stuck in this cage with the person I hate the most at the moment.”

Sadie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Fine. I’d rather sit in silence anyway.”

*Three Hours Later*

Emily’s earbuds died, her phone only had ten percent battery left and she had no rational explanation for what she was going to do next.

“Sadie, why did you do it?”

Sadie looked up from her book. “Why did I do what, exactly?”

“Why did you sleep with Patrick? You knew damn well that he was my fiancé and you slept with him anyway.”

Sadie carefully placed a folded piece of paper into her book and set in on the floor beside her.

  “First of all, Patrick told me that you both had broken up. By the time I found out that you were still in the picture, I told him that we had to end things. Of course, it was too late at that point because you literally walked in right after that happened.”

Emily pushed her hair behind her ears and glowered at the red head in front of her. “I have the hardest time believing that. You know, considering the fact that you were messaging Patrick about how the sex was so much better knowing that you were sleeping with my fiancé! You actually mentioned me a lot.”

“You are really reading way too far into all of it. I only hooked up with Patrick a few times. If I’m being entirely honest with you right now, I think you should be thanking me.” Sadie sat up a little straighter and smirked. 

“I should be thanking you?! For what? Ruining my relationship?” Emily leaned forward, feigning curiosity.

“If Patrick was so willing to sleep with me, he could have been sleeping with anyone else. He was not the right person for you.” Sadie relaxed against the wall, as though she had made her point loud and clear.

Emily could feel the heat of her anger rise up in her chest. What gave Sadie the right to determine whether Patrick would have cheated no matter what?

She slumped back against the cold metal wall and closed her eyes. Maybe sleeping through this nightmare would make it end sooner.

*Six Hours Later*

“Hey, Emily,” Sadie nudged Emily awake.”The front desk just called. The fire department will be here soon. Apparently, they forgot about us. That, or we are very low on their priority list. Anyway, I thought you’d want to know.”

Emily rubbed her eyes and nodded. “Thanks.” She cleared the fog from her mind and looked directly into Sadie’s emerald eyes. “Can you be completely honest with me about something?”

Sadie pondered it for a moment, a deep v forming between her eyebrows. “Sure, I suppose I could spare some complete and unadulterated honesty.”

Emily took a deep breath and looked down at her hands as though they may hold the weight of her question. “Did you do it to hurt me? I thought we were friends and then I found out that you were hooking up with Pat-” 

Sadie stopped her mid-sentence by placing her hands on Emily’s shoulders and looking deeply into her eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you. I honestly didn’t even want to hook up with Patrick the two times that we did. I wanted to get closer to you and I thought the best way to do that was to get to know you through the person who was supposed to love you. Then I let him do what he wanted to do and I was going to tell you sooner but then you figured it out. What you never seemed to figure out was why it mattered to me at all… 

“I have no good excuse for sleeping with Patrick besides to prove to you that he was not worthy of your love and attention.”

Emily looked at her as though she were nuts. “So, you slept with Patrick to prove that he was somehow worse than I thought he was? But didn’t that tell me the exact same thing about you?”

The corners of Sadie’s mouth turned down into a soft frown. “I guess you’re right. I fucked up. I know that you’ll never even begin to forgive me and I think I can accept that. But, I needed you to know why I did it. I started to fall in love with you and knew that you could do so much better than Patrick.” She let go of Emily’s shoulders and let her body slump against the wall. 

Emily stared at her incredulously. “I still don’t think I understand. You say you love me and then decide the best way to show me that is to hurt and betray me the same way that the person I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with hurt and betrayed me? You would have been better off setting him up with someone else and then showing me the evidence and being my shoulder to cry on! I have hated you for months! I have spent so much of my free time wondering how you could have done this to me! You’re kind of an idiot, you know that right?” A gentle chuckle escaped her lips.

Sadie looked up at her, confusion and sadness filling her teary eyes. “It’s not kind to laugh at someone while they’re down.Not that I deserve even an ounce of your kindness.”

Emily closed the space between them and gently placed her hand on her knee. “I’m an idiot, too. I still don’t understand your reasoning and you hurt me. We’ll have to work on building trust and friendship again but I’m willing to give it a shot. No one is perfect and if you are willing to show me that you’re not a terrible cheater and a liar then maybe one day we can begin a romantic relationship. Until then, friends?”

A small smile formed at the edges of Sadie’s soft, pink lips. “I think I can do that. I promise that you won’t regret giving me a second chance. I will just communicate with you about my stupid thoughts and feelings and maybe we can avoid another disastrous event.”

Suddenly a loud banging noise interrupted the moment. “Ladies? Are you alright in there?”

“Yeah, we’re fine!” They answered in unison.

“Sorry it took us so long to arrive! We should have ya’ll out in just a few moments. Stay clear of the doors!”

The two women stood and stepped to the back of the elevator car. Emily reached down and grabbed Sadie’s dainty hand and intertwined their fingers, ready for a new beginning.

[nawaazishein]

moodboard: Omkara paints Gauri wearing a blindfold. Only a blindfold.  [ insp. ]