#but if I wake up all throughout the night again I’ll have a fit

[thegenderfluidace]

Ughhhhhhhh

Just realized I didn’t take my dream/nightmares meds

I should go back upstairs to take it but….

I’m already comfy in bed and don’t wanna move sooooo…..

I’ll survive the night and if I get a horrific dream that’s my karma and I’m willing to deal with it

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Haunting of Riverrun

fancast!bloody ben x widow!tully!reader

Summary: After the death of her childhood love Y/n is left broken. Her parents can take no more of her moping and invite the River Lords to ask for her hand. She never thought she would find such a love again in her life until he walks into her parents hall.

Warnings: 18+ mention of death, grieving, swearing(and i think the only swear word is in my authors note 💀), teasing, oral (f receiving), p in v

Authors Note: fuck if i know why i made her a widow??, guess i wanted some hurt comfort :), soft ben bc why not, this man is down bad fr

Word Count: 4.8k

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“You must remarry, I would prefer it to a house that’s close to ours, but above all I just want you to be happy, daughter. You’ve been haunting these halls after your husband’s death for too long.” my father’s words repeatedly slam into me.

“I didn’t know my bereavement had an expiration date.” I say exasperated, shaking my head at a loss.

“It’s been well over a year. War is coming for the crown and I’d like you to have the opportunity to choose your husband rather than being placed into an unhappy marriage pact for alliances and swords.” he looks to me from our house seat and my mother grabs onto his wrist supportively.

“We just wish to see your smile again.” my mother whispers to me with a soft smile.

“It sounds as if I don’t have a choice in the matter.” I shrug my shoulders, looking up at the ceiling to stop the tears that threaten to fall.

“I’ve summoned some of the unmarried Lords of the Riverlands and they’ll be here by the end of the week. Try to keep an open mind daughter.” my father looks to me and then comfortingly to my mother.

“I’ll see you for supper.” I murmur as I turn and leave the hall.

I sequester myself in my chambers for the rest of the night, even refusing to attend supper much to my parents displeasure. I know they mean well but how can I possibly think of remarrying when every time I go to sleep all I can think of is waking in the middle of the night to my husband’s dead body.

The maesters say it was overindulgence mixed with a poor heart. We were only married for one turn of the moon, but I knew him much longer than that. He was in every sense the gentleman and even waited to consummate our marriage not wanting to be presumptuous.

It was a very innocent and young love kind of marriage. I always thought my cheeks were going to split from how much he made me smile. He would whisper sweet nothings in my ear throughout court making my cheeks tint. At night he would cuddle in close and pepper kisses across my face before curling into me and drifting off to bed. I never expected it to end so quickly. So yes, I have been haunting the halls of Riverrun.

One of my maids knocks softly and enters with tea and a sleeping draft should I want it. She brushes through my hair and helps me prepare for bed. I slip under the covers and lay back ready for another fitful night of sleep.

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The rest of the week goes by in a blur as gowns are being fitted and hemmed in haste for the upcoming events. I’m to be paraded around like a prized mare ready for auction. My breath catches in my throat as one of the maids pulls my corset strings tightly.

“Might we loosen it? Even just a bit?” I say trying to calm my nerves.

“Yes, my Lady. I’m sorry.” she says as I breathe out a sigh of relief as I can fully inflate my lungs again.

I’m quickly brought down to the main hall where my mother and father are sitting in the house seat waiting for my arrival. A chair has been brought in for me to sit at their side on display. My mother’s smile spreads across her face as she takes in my new gown.

“You look lovely, Y/n.” my mother coos to me.

“Thank you, mother.” I take my seat without further word.

“Bring them in.” my father calls to his guards.

The doors groan open and in walk four men. I scoff at the first two men who enter as they seem to be older than my father. The two men that follow are finally closer to my age, if not the same age as me. They all stand in a line in front of my father looking to him except one who won’t tear his eyes from me. I look him over from head to toe and roll my eyes when I see the smirk ghosting on his lips.

“Y/n?” my father says getting my attention.

“Yes?” I ask absentmindedly taking in the frustration on my father’s face.

“I asked you to introduce yourself.” he says hushed as he narrows his eyes at me.

“Have they come here not knowing whose hand they’re vying for?” I asked with a clipped tone completely over this already.

“Y/n.” my mother hisses from my father’s side.

“Good morrow, my Lords.” I sigh and look to them. “I’m Lady Y/n Tully. Tell me who you are and what you can offer me.” I tilt my head looking to them all expectantly.

The one who can’t take his eyes off of me lets out a loud laugh as the other men look to me distraught. I raise my hand in motion for them to start telling me their names and houses so we can get this meeting over with. The three men look to my father and mother for help as they fall over their words and each other in the process.

“That’s enough,” I raise my hand with annoyance. “You.” I point to the one who is smiling at me and seems to find this entertaining.

“Me?” he raises his eyebrows as his smile never falters.

“Yes, tell me your name.” I purse my lips looking him over more in depth as he steps closer.

“Lord Benjicot Blackwood, my Lady.” he says his voice smooth like butter.

“And what can you offer me, Lord Benjicot?” I lean forward and raise an eyebrow studying him.

“Anything your heart desires. Say it and it shall be yours.” he says inclining his head to me.

“I’ll have him.” I turn to my father and take in his distressed state.

“My daughter, you still haven’t-“

“No matter,” I wave off my father’s words. “I’ll have Lord Benjicot or no one.” I say with finality.

“Y/n please,” my mother’s voice begging.

“Two of these Lords are older than father and the other is just as bumbling and stuttering as them. You’ve practically made the choice for me.” I blink at them, daring them to go against what they know is true.

“At least enter a courtship first.” my mother pleads.

“I thought you wanted me out of Riverrun so I could stop “haunting the halls” I think was the way you phrased it?” I tilt my head looking to my parents.

“We didn’t mean it like that.” my mother adds with soft, sad eyes.

“Enough, this discussion can wait.” my father stands from his seat, his face red with embarrassment for this conversation in front of his vassals.

“Agreed.” I stand with my father defiantly. “Lord Benjicot, would you like to go for a walk along the river?” I ask holding my arm out for him to grab.

“I would be honored, my Lady.” he smiles and grabs my arm as we exit the main hall.

As we walk out the main doors I can practically feel my parent’s eyes burning into us. What did they expect me to do, wed an old man? I turn to the Lord on my arm and see that he’s already studying me himself. He’s actually quite handsome and I can tell he knows it by the way he carries himself.

“Tell me of your home.” I request tearing my eyes from him to look at the river beside us.

“It’s one of the oldest standing castles, dating back to the first men. We have a massive weirwood that is home to hundreds of ravens, hence the name Raventree Hall. We’re close enough to the coast where if you stand in some of the towers you can see the bay. It’s not too far from Riverrun should you get homesick.” he studies my expression, looking unsure of what to say.

“Very well.” I hum as I lead us to an unoccupied bench. “You truly wish to wed me?” I turn to him as I take a seat.

“I would be honored to have your hand, my Lady. I do not wish to force you into this marriage, should you not want it.” he bites his lip looking almost nervous.

“I must wed again.” say barely audible turning my head back to the river. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Or that I wouldn’t want to wed you. It’s just only been a year since.. It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head wishing I bit my tongue. Of course he wouldn’t want to hear about my dead husband and he’s going to change his mind and-

“Tell me of your first love.” his voice as soft as mine as he interrupts my thoughts.

“What?” my head snaps to him. “Why?” my eyebrows furrow with confusion.

“I can tell you loved him dearly. If you don’t want to you don’t have to. I just wanted to offer a listening ear.” he fidgets with his hands looking at me nervously.

“He was,” I sigh trailing off. “He was very kind and sweet. We grew up together. A young blossoming love like the books tell..” I shake my head unable to continue.

“It’s okay.” he places his hand on mine in comfort. “You can tell me whenever you’re ready or want to. I’ll be here to listen.” he smiles softly to me.

“I shouldn’t be speaking of this to you, it’s uncomely.” my voice is wobbly as my glassy eyes look to him.

“Your feelings are no burden to me. You lost a great love.” his eyes full of promise and patience.

“My parents seem to think it’s excessive. So much so that they’re pushing me off onto someone else.” tears fall down my face and I wipe them away angrily.

“I- May I hug you?” he looks to me with pitiful eyes which would normally enrage me but I could use a genuine hug.

I turn to him and fold into his embrace. His arms wrap around me tightly, protectively. Feelings of safety and comfort wash over me as I melt into him. I cling to him as tears continue to pour down my face. Gods what am I thinking sobbing into him like this.

“I’m sorry.” I sniffle pulling back. “No, I’ve got tears all over your jacket.” my voice cracks as more tears fall as I try to wave my hand to dry off the stain.

“Hey,” he tries to get my attention away from the wet mark. “Y/n it’ll dry.” my name falls off of his tongue stilling me.

“I’m sorry.” I look to him with red cheeks.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” he smiles softly to me.

I scoot closer to him as we look on at the river in front of us. We sit in comfortable silence as he allows me to grieve. Once the sun starts to dip below the horizon he escorts me back to the castle and offers me a goodnight. For the first time in many moons I tuck into bed with hope for the future and sleep restfully.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

It took me all of a week to completely fall for Ben. My ribs hurt from the laughter he’s been able to pull from me daily. My parents look at us with happiness throughout the week and finally relent and accept my leave to go to his home for a fortnight before we wed.

As we approach Raventree Hall my breath escapes me looking on at the large gates painted with moss and life. As we enter through his men greet him happily and offer me warm smiles. He escorts me into his castle and I’m entranced by its architecture and detail.

“You have a beautiful home.” I hum looking around the hall. When I finally turn back to him he’s leaning against the door frame looking at me with a soft smile.

“It’ll be your home as well soon enough.” he pushes off the doorway and walks to me.

“You haven’t decided I’m too crazy for you?” I look up to him as he approaches.

“Not anymore than I am.” a smile pulls across his face as he grabs my hand leading me out of the hall.

He gives me a full tour of Raventree Hall that ends with us in the Godswood. I’m speechless at the massive weirwood that’s a home to all of these ravens. The tree itself stands taller than the entire castle making me crane my neck to see the entirety of it. Ben leads us out of the Godswood and into the castle where we share an intimate dinner alone.

“I must admit something.” he looks to me from across the table once the servants disappear.

“Which is?” I look at him with a raised eyebrow, my interest piqued.

“I first saw you when I was just a boy. We were all summoned to Riverrun for some event I no longer remember,” he trails off, his cheeks turning red. “But I’ll always remember you. You were wearing a billowy pink dress with flowers in your hair and you looked less than pleased to be surrounded by so many people. I thought you were so perfect but I couldn’t work up the nerve to speak to you. It has always been such a regret.” Ben’s eyes look to me as the memory appears in my mind of that scratchy, terrible dress they made me wear and I giggle.

“Was I your first crush, Lord Benjicot?” a wicked smile appears on my face as his cheeks turn a darker shade of red.

“You’re never going to let me live this down.” he groans covering his face, peeking at me through his fingers.

“Not anytime soon.” I hum as I pull his hands away from his face.

“Your parents say you’ve been haunting Riverrun, but you’ve been haunting my dreams for much longer.” he says intertwining our fingers looking to me.

“I’m sorry I’ve caused you so many years of restless sleep.” a smirk plays on my lips as I squeeze his hands.

“You’ll have plenty of restless nights coming up.” he winks at me causing my cheeks to catch on fire.

“Ben,” I gasp scandalously as he chuckles at me.

“I’ll never tire of my name on your tongue.” he smiles and leans back in his chair watching me.

We finish our dinner with palpable tension as we steal glances at one another. He escorts me to my chambers through the silent halls. The castle seems to already be asleep for the night as we linger, not quite ready to leave each other’s company.

“Let your guard know if you need anything. Although, my chambers are right down the hall if you need me.” he looks at me with low lids and a lazy smile.

“Then I’ll know which direction to begin my haunts during the hour of the wolf.” I smile up at him as he chuckles and shakes his head.

“I’ll make sure to leave my doors unlocked for you.” he winks, reaching behind me to open my chambers for me.

“I’ll see you in your dreams.” I whisper before whisking myself into my chambers and sealing myself behind the doors before he can see the extent of my blush.

I take in my chambers and smile at the warmth and new beginnings they carry. I begin to change into my night dress and retire to my bed. I figured it would feel weird sleeping in a home that’s not mine but all I feel is excitement for what the next fortnight will hold. I fall asleep with a smile etched on my face.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The first week at Raventree Hall was full of innocent glances and hand holding but there seems to be a rise in tension between us in our last week before we wed. We constantly tease each other and seem to always be touching each other whether it be his hand on my back or mine on his arm.

I exit my chambers early this morning to explore the halls and yards on my own. I stop in the Godswood and look upon the ravens that fly about the grounds. I slowly make my way to the training yard to watch Ben work alongside his men. I haven’t had the courage to come down here and watch him but my curiosity is getting the better of me.

As I turn the corner I’m greeted with grunts and clashing swords. My eyes dart around the yard until they land on a shirtless Ben. Gods this is why I never came here to watch him because I know I look like a lovesick puppy. I claim a seat on the outskirts of the circle near Ben and silently watch him train.

He is a true leader to his men and is actively cares about their advancement. I sit with a smile painted across my face as I watch his muscles flex deliciously. His eyes finally land on me and his face lights up as he jogs over to me.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Y/n.” he looks down at me with hungry eyes as I continue to lounge in my chair.

“Am I not allowed to look upon my betrothed?” I blink up to him innocently.

“Shall I remove more layers so you can look upon the rest of me.” he chuckles lowly as my cheeks inflame.

“Benjicot Blackwood.” I hiss as I quickly rise and cover his mouth with my hand. He chuckles into my hand and grabs my wrist to lower my hand.

“You get flustered so easily.” he says lowly, trailing his fingers up my arm causing me to shiver. “Do you enjoy watching me train?” he dips down to whisper in my ear to which I nod not trusting my voice.

His confidence is so exhilarating. I feel my blood thrum in his presence in anticipation for anything he does. I never thought I would feel the life brought back to me. He pulls back much to my quiet displeasure and looks at me with a serpentine smile.

“You can come and watch me whenever you please. I’ll have a chase brought out for you, I wouldn’t want you to get uncomfortable while you fantasize about me.” he teases as I roll my eyes and turn to walk away without another word.

“I’m sorry.” he breathes out as he turns me around to find a smile on my face and he sighs out in relief. “Mm, in that case do you want to share your fantasies with me?” this man is absolutely relentless.

“Maybe when we aren’t around so many eyes.” I shrug him off with a smirk of my own and continue to walk into the case.

As I continue inside the doors I hear his men laugh at him for scaring me away and I can’t help but chuckle myself. I don’t know how I’ll ever get used to his teasing and not turn into such a blushing mess. I’m quite excited to be wed to him because there’s never a dull moment.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“My wife,” Ben whispers down to me softly before he captures my lips for the first time at our ceremony.

I feel as if my heart is going to burst out of my chest as I sigh into his mouth. He pulls me closer as my arms wrap around his back. I care not of the audience watching us as I allow myself to indulge in my husband. We pull apart and he offers me one more chaste kiss before we turn to the crowd with red cheeks.

I turn to my parents and see my mother all but sobbing and my father with watery eyes standing tall next to her. I chuckle at them as we descend from the alter. Ben twirls me around the open dance floor before bringing me back so we can share our first dance.

My body is buzzing with anticipation as Ben glues me to his body as we begin. I look up at him through my lashes as cups my face. He offers me a soft kiss as we continue to sway to the soft music.

The celebrations go on long into the night. Ben and I try to sneak off a handful of times but got lured into conversations as we tried to make our escape. As the crowd begins to slow we are quick to slip away and rush into the castle.

Ben’s hand grips mine as we run through the front doors trying to stifle our laughter so we don’t draw attention to us. He pulls me up the stairs after him silently. We come to a stop in front of his chambers both of our chests rising and falling rapidly.

“My chambers or yours?” he licks his lips looking down at me.

“I thought your chambers were mine now, husband?” I tilt my head with a smile.

His lips crash into mine causing me to squeak in surprise. He smiles into the kiss before pulling us inside our chambers. He pulls us apart and seals the chambers shut and turns to me with dark eyes. He stalks over to me and his hands pull my closer by my waist.

“This is a beautiful dress. May I take it off?” he whispers as he starts to kiss my neck. His hands trail to my back waiting at the strings for my word.

“Yes,” I breathe out as his fingers begin to unravel my dress. He pulls back to help me step out of it leaving me in my silk slip. He looks at me hungrily as his hands slide back to my waist. I bring trembling hands to his jacket and begin to unbutton it.

“Do I make you nervous?” I can tell he’s smirking without even looking at him. His hands go to mine to steady them before taking over and removing his jacket the rest of the way.

“Don’t tease me.” I pout as I begin to unbutton his shirt.

“So eager to see me shirtless again?” he chuckles as he pulls his shirt over his head quickly.

“I will make you sleep in the guest chambers.” my eyes narrow on him as I push his chest.

“Is that truly what you want?” he tilts his head smugly.

“No.” I cross my arms.

“Oh come here.” he relents and pulls me to him once more.

He dips down and encases my lips with his. He licks along the seam and I open my mouth and his tongue is immediately dancing with mine. I melt into his touch and gasp out in surprise as his hand travels to my thighs and they clench shut. He pulls back breathlessly and looks to me with low lids.

“Have you been touched before?” he asks without his teasing tone for once as his hands return to my waist.

“No.” I shake my head with burning cheeks.

“Would you like to be?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” I answer faster than I would’ve liked.

His lips find mine again as his hand finds its way between my thighs. I whimper into his mouth as his fingers trail through my wetness. He continues with one tortuous finger until he decides to swirl against my clit.

“Ben,” I cry into his mouth as my legs threaten to give out.

“Let’s go to the bed.” his voice laced with desire.

Once we make it to the bed he slowly lifts off my slip and helps me back on the bed. He begins to remove his pants as I gaze up at him with heavy eyes as I take in the rest of his body. My legs squeeze in anticipation looking at him on full display. We shameless drink in each other’s body admiring.

He climbs into bed and hovers above me for a moment before he fiercely kisses me once more. His hand makes its way back between my legs as his teeth nip at my bottom lip. His fingers begin to circle my clit once more causing a moan to tear through me.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” he whispers before he attaches is mouth to my neck.

“Yes, Ben,” I whine as my legs begin to shake.

His fingers continue to slide through my wetness as his kisses begin to trail down my chest. I suck in a large breath as he takes my nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. He leaves wet kisses across my chest as he makes his way to my other breast. His deft fingers find their way back to my clit as he offers this nipple a playful bite causing me to arch up into his mouth.

He chuckles lowly as he begins to kiss down my torso until he’s watching his hand pull pleasure from body. I moan out in frustration as his finger slips away from my clit once more. I whimper as his tongue begins to lap against my clit as my thighs start to clamp around his head. He chuckles into my core before holding my thighs open to lose himself in me.

“Ben, please,” my hips grind against his face as one of my hands fly to his hair.

A sob tears through me as I explode all over his tongue as he continues his assault. He pulls his mouth back but continues trailing his fingers down my sensitive center. He looks to me and watches me as my legs twitch when his fingers pass over my clit. As his finger slides down it circles my entrance and begins to dip in. My hips lift off the bed wanting more of his fingers as he groans looking at me.

“Gods you’re perfect.” his voice dripping with devotion as he slips his finger the rest of the way in.

He leans down and entangles us in a kiss as his finger begins to pump into me. He teases a second finger and I moan into his mouth as he pushes them both into me. He holds his forehead to mine as I pant while my hips begin to chase his fingers for more. His thumb makes its way to my clit as his begins to move his fingers faster.

“Yes, Ben please,” he groans at my words and kisses me hard.

His fingers begin to curl as he pushes them into me faster. I clench around his fingers as I let go once more, losing myself to all of the pleasure he offers me. He slowly removes his fingers and I whine into his mouth at the loss.

“I need to be in you.” he breathes deeply as he settles between my legs. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him down to me. “Someone’s impatient.” he chuckles against my lips.

“You can still go to the guest chambers.” I scold breathlessly as his length presses against my core.

“I wouldn’t dare leave my wife so needy.” he pecks my lips as he begins to line himself up at my entrance.

He watches my face as he slowly pushes into me. My eyes flutter shut as I feel the burn of his delicious stretch. My hips begin to rock against his and he grinds into me deeply. My hands fly to his back as his continues is slow moments as my nails dig in.

He begins to rock his hips slowly getting faster. Moans fall from my lips freely as his hips snap into mine. Our breathes become one as pleasure washes over us. His hips falter as cry out his name coming around him with tears in my eyes. His hips still as he fills me with my name on his lips.

He kisses me softly as he pulls out and lays next to me. I curl into his side as he smooths my hair. Ben pulls a blanket over us as my eyes get heavier.

“Shall I go to the guest chambers?” he chuckles lowly as I groan in annoyance.

“I should make you go out of spite.” I huff pulling him closer to me anyways.

He kisses my head once more as we slowly begin to drift off.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Masterlist

[abiiors]

birthday wish - matty x reader

part 1 of matty's birthday weekend a/n: this is scheduled. by the time this goes up, i will (hopefully🤞🏼) be on a beach somewhere, day drunk 😌 cw: very vague and brief descriptions of a panic attack, alcohol and drinking, mayhem is still with matty here because that's how it should be. also...a smidge of angst, idiots friends to lovers wc: 3.1k

“matty you fucking dick!”

her screech echoes throughout the lower floor of his house and matty bursts out laughing. george stirs on the nearby sofa, huffs something unintelligible and goes back to sleep. 

it’s 9 in the morning the day after they’ve had a late night out, no one should be awake at such an ungodly hour… least of all him. but matty has a mission to accomplish, the fucking childish prank he’s been planning for weeks to see through. 

and this scream—her calling him a “fucking dick”—is the precise reaction he’s been hoping for. 

seconds later she stomps out of his room and matty damn near pisses himself at the sight of her—dripping in water like a wet, angry cat, her t-shirt clinging to her body in all the damp spots and hair as green as an oompa-loompa's. even like this she’s a vision.

“what the fuck did you do?!” she yells again, absolutely fuming. 

between peals of laughter, he somehow manages three words. “happy april fool’s.”

“oh don’t you fucking dare. watch your back healy, i swear to god…”

and then all the yelling wakes george up who takes one look at her and flinches back. he actually flinches back letting out a string of curses in the process until his butt hits the floor. 

matty doubles over, clutching his sides, and wolf-whistles at her just to piss her off a little more. 

“hair dye in a shampoo bottle, how clever,” she huffs, crossing her arms in front of her until the damp  t-shirt sticks to her boobs and the wind gets knocked out of matty’s chest. 

suddenly, nothing is funny—not the green-tinged puddle of water near her feet, not the way her nostrils flare in anger. 

matty’s breath hitches in his throat, and perhaps for the first time he looks at her properly. the damp t-shirt ends halfway down her thighs, bunched up on one side so he can almost see the little group of freckles on the apex of her thigh. the anger makes her eyebrows furrow, makes a small crease appear right between them and matty wishes so desperately he could smooth it with his thumb. his hands tremble at his sides and he tightens them into a fist. 

finally, after what feels like an eternity, george bursts out laughing. 

matty startles—he’d honestly forgotten george was even there, still waking up from sleep and now that he is fully awake, george bursts into a fit of obnoxious cackles. 

“what the fuck happened to you,” he teases to which she just lifts one finger and points it straight at matty. 

matty, despite everything, blushes to the roots of his hair. now that he’s started thinking all these thoughts about her he can’t fucking stop—can’t stop when she bunches the towel in her hands and throws it at him so quick that it makes the t-shirt ride up a bit more. can’t stop when she places her hands on her hips so that the contours of her chest stand out under the damp t-shirt.

he has half a thought to tackle george so he won’t be able to look at her anymore but matty suppresses the urge. barely. 

“i’ll get you back, healy,” she threatens and storms back to his room. 

sure matty was the one who offered to let her have a shower in his bathroom—one, so she could stay over with the rest of their friends for the night, and two, so he could execute the prank. but now he can’t stop imagining it—her under the shower (does she sing?) using his shampoo, his body wash. 

does she smell like him now? he’d die if he got close enough to find out. 

“alright, mate?” george jerks him out of his thoughts. matty turns around to see his friend stretching sleepily, but george’s eyes are still very much trained on matty. his lips are very much pressed into a thin line. 

“you both are insufferable, don’t get why you won’t just tell her,” he mumbles on the way to the kitchen pulling out a mug for himself. 

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” matty shrugs, perhaps a bit too quick and gets another mug out. he puts the kettle on boil, gets the coffee and sugar out.

the whole time george stays quiet but matty can feel his burning stare on the back of his head. 

only when the coffees are done and george takes the first sip does he speak. 

“sure you don’t,” he mutters in a dry tone and takes his phone out (definitely to text charli and gossip about matty’s love life. or the lack thereof.)

in his head he guesses the texts that are being exchanged between them.

he’s chickened out again. 

really? i fucking knew it, he’s never gonna get to it. 

right? she might as well date someone else. 

i should set her up with a friend…

and then shakes his head like that would get rid of the frankly ridiculous thoughts. his friends would never do that to him. they've already meddled and invested too much in his love life by now to give up so easily. besides, he’ll get to it. someday. eventually. 

he’ll get to it when his insides don’t feel like jelly around her. 

he’ll get to it when he feels a bit more brave.

matty’s birthday wish has stayed consistent for the last two years. he wishes he could make a move. he wishes she were single—well, one of those things is true now. he’s no longer pathetic enough to yearn for a girl who’s already with someone else. 

he’ll never admit it to anyone but he did feel a bit of joy when she broke up with her boyfriend earlier that year—okay maybe a lot of joy when he saw how quickly she moved on. 

“we’d been growing distant for some time anyway,” she’d confessed when he checked up on her after the break up. “it was inevitable.”

and now that matty’s birthday gets closer and closer, he thinks of all ways to amend that wish. 

please fucking please give me the courage to just kiss her. 

he doesn’t know who he’s making the wish to. god?? he highly doubts it. the universe?? he scarcely believes in all that new age spirituality crap. the fucking candle company and the cake maker then. 

oh great vanilla bean who sacrificed itself for my cake… give me the courage to finally kiss her. 

he's got like a week still… if he wished every single day starting today, maybe it will come true. cake and candles or not. he's a grown fucking man, he can make a wish before blowing on a fag.

sometime around 5 pm he wakes up to an empty apartment, lingering taste of the sweet vanilla cake that she’d baked for him last year still so fresh on his tongue. 

there’s something else too… there’s the Moment that he’s not quite sure counts as a Moment even though he remembers it vividly—her fingers brushing against his lips while she was wiping away a bit of the frosting, nails grazing against his lips. just a touch too long. all of it—the intense stare, the looking away right after, the refusal to look him in the eye for the rest of the night—all of it feels like a Moment. but the rational part of his brain steers him away from that thought. 

she had a boyfriend at the time. she wouldn’t pine after someone else. least of all him. 

a somewhat humiliating memory resurfaces too—his own lyrics coming to bite him back in the ass—the speaker blaring “she’s got a boyfriend anyway” over and over again while he tries not to punch the dj. 

matty stretches and gets out of bed.

the utter silence feels nice for a change—nicer when half the house is bathed in golden light and he can just stroll through the house in search of some weed and crisps and pop. maybe call his brother and demand that mario kart rematch that’s so so long overdue. 

maybe he should let mayhem out into the backyard first. 

mayhem…

matty freezes in his tracks and slowly turns around, almost like he’s in a horror movie. 

he has not heard the dog bark once! usually mayhem is up and running at him the moment he senses him within a ten feet radius. today however, there’s no patter of paws on the floor. 

matty runs to check the little outdoor area where mayhem usually sits. even before he opens the door though, matty knows what he will find—an empty dog bed, possibly an empty food bowl. 

he lets out a low whistle and twists the door open. there’s an uncharacteristic, loud clatter and a second later he stands at the threshold, doused in hot pink glitter, dog-less, in the middle of his house. 

i’ll get you back, healy!

matty giggles to himself and takes his phone out of his pocket, trying not to get the glitter everywhere. (although by now it’s pretty much settled into his dna, he’s sure of it) 

she picks up on the second ring, followed by a very fake clearing of her throat. 

“did you steal my dog, darling?” matty launches straight into it, trying to hide the smile in his voice.

“no!” and then there’s a faint little yip in the background that sounds suspiciously like the one he hears daily. 

“right…”

“right. that all?”

as gently as he can, matty dusts off the glitter in place and walks back inside in search of a mop or something. he needs to contain the carnage somehow, but on the phone she clears her throat again. 

“did anything else happen?” 

the little giggle in her voice is so obvious to him. matty imagines what she looks like on the other side—on her bed maybe, cuddled up with mayhem who secretly seems to prefer her so much more than matty. on her bed in just a t-shirt maybe… he reigns it in before the thoughts can progress any forward. 

“mayhem seems to have ran away.”

“oh?” then there’s a little silence, which instantly fills with the sound of paws on hard wood. “maybe he’ll come back,” she hedges, “maybe…once the dye in my hair goes away, who knows.”

“is that so?”

“yeah, just a hunch.”

the silence stretches on, none of them willing to hang up first. matty wonders if she’s sat there biting her lip, trying to stifle a laugh. matty wonders what it would be like if he were to bite her lip instead.

“still green?” he tries to tease, voice slightly breathy.

“still sparkly?” she quips back. and well…yes, he is. he’s sure he’s going to be for the rest of time.

“the day’s not over yet, sweetheart.”

sweetheart. where the fuck did that come from? matty runs a shaky hand through his hair and grimaces when it come away hot pink and sparkly. it’s all over his hair too… great.

“is that a threat, darling?” matty almost chokes at the word, his face heats up. fuckin’ hell… if this is what he’s like after one word…

“we’ll see about that tonight.” 

and then like a coward he hangs up before she can shake his composure any further. he closes his eyes and focuses on the birthday wish one more time—it might as well be today, he’s faux-celebrating his birthday later with a few people who can’t be there on the actual day. he just needs to get his shit together and…not fuck up.

he fucks up almost instantly. 

when he walks into the dimly lit pub, he can spot the green-head right from the door. she’s in a flowery blouse and jeans and pulling the hair off so well that he wonders if he should have done this months ago. but matty shakes off his jitters and walks up to his friends. 

several of them are already pretty tipsy, singing and dancing along to the tunes. he is fashionably late after all. they greet him, slapping him on the shoulder as he passes by, drunkenly yelling “happy birthday” even though it’s a week away. graciously, he thanks them all, laughing and joking with his friends before making his way to her. 

turns out the list of tipsy people also includes her.

she beams when she sees him, hurrying to put her cocktail away so she can throw her arms around him. a second later her perfume invades all his senses. matty closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of it. 

“i was waiting for you,” she declares, a few words coming out slurred. “i’ve decided i like the green.”

“yeah? it looks beautiful on you.”

quickly she wrinkles her nose, stepping away from him. “you’re making fun of me!”

“‘m not!” he vehemently defends himself but in the end it’s all in good fun. fondly, she rolls her eyes and grabs his hand, pulling him to the bar. 

“i asked them to set aside this one bottle of wine for you. feel like you’d like it.”

a strange warmth spreads through him—it’s not the most special thing someone’s done for him, it’s just a bottle of wine. but then again nothing is just something when it comes to her. 

she thought about him. she’d been thinking about him. however briefly. 

matty almost leans across and kisses her then but thinks better of it. a crowded pub is no place to do it. 

turns out his first mistake of the night is drinking the wine. well… drinking too much and too fast anyway. 

what starts off as slow sips and savouring the red quickly turns into glasses of wine in a corner while they joke around and giggle uncontrollably. she’s flushed, twinkly-eyed and a bit more than tipsy now. 

matty, on the other hand, might very well be drunk. 

he feels the effects of it—the feeling of his blood being replaced by wine, the buzz in his head, the lack of filter in his words. oh, his head is going to kill him tomorrow.

he doesn’t mind though, anything to be sat here across from her, giggling over an overpriced (but delicious) bottle of wine. matty leans forward, chin on the palm of his hand and watches her laugh at his silly joke. 

“you’re gorgeous, did i tell you that?” for a moment he doesn’t recognise the voice. it’s slurred and deeper than usual and that’s not something he’d ever admit to her so casually. but then she giggles and ruffles his hair, laughing harder when her fingers come back, coated in a bit of glitter. 

“you’re so drunk. but i appreciate it, thank you.”

“no no, i’m not! i mean i am but— i mean it i—” he’s wide-eyed and failing to explain just how much he means it. matty just wants her to understand. this is not some frivolous confession of a wine-addled brain, this is serious. he is serious. 

desperation overrides any sane instinct in his brain. which is his second mistake of the night. 

the words come out faster than he can process them, faster than he can filter them and make them digestible. 

“you– you don’t know how long i’ve waited to say this. every time i get enough courage there’s either a boyfriend or something else. there’s always— fuck, forget all that. that doesn’t matter—”

“matty—”

“no, no listen to me, listen to what i’m trying to tell you.” 

the more he speaks (rambles) the more the smile slips from her face, replaced by something he can’t quite place. she’s not… disgusted by him, is she? he hopes not. that really would be the final nail in the coffin. 

“i’ve been trying—” he chokes, deeply swallowing more wine, “—been trying to tell you, i love you! i love you, i love you, i love you. i have for so long!”

and that’s when she pulls back entirely, leaning back into her chair as if she can’t put enough distance between them. her face shutters into an unreadable mask and matty feels panic bubbling up deep inside his stomach. 

shit shit shit. 

what has he done. 

oh god, he clearly wasn’t thinking straight. this wasn’t how it was meant to go. this wasn’t how any of it wasn’t meant to go. it was meant to be followed by a kiss and maybe more. it was meant to be followed by an “i love you too”. 

not… indifference. 

or worse… disgust. 

which is when he makes his third (and perhaps the worst) mistake of the night. 

matty laughs. it’s hysterical and sharp and verging on cruel. he laughs until he can feel the tears in his eyes and he can only hope they don’t spill down his cheeks. and then he says the words he can never take back. 

“oh god, look at your face. i was joking!”

“what…”

“it’s still the first of april, did you forget?”

each word is like a nail being hammered into his heart. but matty hopes it would be enough. in two seconds she’d roll her eyes and laugh at herself for falling for it. in a minute they will go back to drinking and joking. matty can pretend. he’s become quite good at it. 

instead, she gets up so fast that her chair almost clatters to the ground. 

in the dim lightning of the pub, matty can’t see the tears gathered in her eyes. although that might be because his eyes are still blurry from his own tears. 

“love—”

“you’re a cunt, matty.” she says the words with an eerie calmness, mechanically gathers her bag and phone and walks away. only then does he register the extent of what’s happening. 

the wine bottle falls to the floor and shatters when he drunkenly bumps into the table. red spills everywhere, soaking his shoes, the leg of his jeans. he hurries after her, tripping and falling as the full force of the alcohol hits him once again, calling out her name again and again. the music drowns it out. 

she’s out the door before matty’s even halfway across the pub. 

fuck… how did it go so wrong so quick. 

how did he mess it up so bad… 

he almost retches right there on the floor, grabbing a passer-by to steady himself. he needs to do something, he needs to make this right. he needs to…

he doesn't know what. his heart pounds in his chest and his throat feels so dry and tight he can barely speak, barely even breathe. matty sinks to his knees right there in the middle of the pub, gasping for breath. 

he doesn’t know what happens next, doesn’t remember much after that. all he remembers is the feeling of doom and the loud, odd rhythm of his heart. 

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[homeofatlas]

Brunch In Bed

Authors note: Pretend the english is french and enjoy your sunday! also Y/F/B stands for your favourite breakfast

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

It’s rare that Elisa has a sunday off from practice or a game which is why when you two found out she didn’t have to do anything this sunday you two jumped at the chance to do absolutely nothing. All you two wanted to do was sleep in and have a slow morning the way regular people did on weekends. From the moment you woke up on Sunday, with the sun shining through the sliver of the curtains and Elisa asleep beside you, you knew it was going to be a good day. Burrowing back under the covers, you scooch over to fit yourself back over to elisa to fit into her arms. Her front against your back, you feel her unconsciously throw her arm over you and pull you closer to her, you lace your fingers together and fall back asleep. 

A little while later you wake up again, a little sweaty from being wrapped in the blankets and your space heater of a girlfriend. You lay still for a few moments seeing whether or not she's awake yet. Her soft breathing and relaxed form tells you she’s still asleep. Probably exhausted from her game last night. You wait to see if you’ll fall asleep again but after rustling around for a couple minutes you figure you’re probably awake for the day. You unplug your phone from the side table and decide to scroll until you feel like actually getting out of bed. While you scroll you stumble across you see a post of someone's delicious breakfast. You notice your stomach begin to hurt at the sight of it. That’s it! You’ll make breakfast or brunch you guess looking at the time and it’ll be ready by the time Elisa wakes up so you can surprise her. Bunch in bed it was!

Slowly removing Elisas arm from around you and easing out of bed, your feet hit the cold floor. You grab Elisas hoodie she threw off at some point in the night before padding into the kitchen. Trying to be as quiet as you can, you gather the ingredients for Y/F/B and turn on the stove. Glancing behind you, you can still see Elisa asleep in bed. Good, you think, I want to surprise her. Throughout your relationship, though she has a more hectic schedule, Elisa is typically the one making romantic gestures like this. You prefer to show her love by making sure the flat is clean when she comes home tired from training and texting her throughout the day to show you’re thinking of her. But when it comes to cooking because Elisa needs more protein and is on a specific diet she’s usually the one cooking meals and planning dates. 

It feels nice being the one doing a romantic gesture this time. You should really do this more, you think to yourself. Beginning to plan other things you could do to work around what Elisa needs, you zone out while watching the food. That is until you feel two arms wrap around your waist and a head pushing in between your shoulder blades. Sighing you curse yourself for thinking she would have stayed asleep long enough for you to get this done. 

“You should come back to bed.” She murmurs half asleep. 

“You should go back to bed.” You retort. 

“But you aren't there and i want to be where you are so if you could come back to bed so i can go back to bed that would be great.” She replies. 

“I’m doing something right now, and you’ve ruined your own surprise.”

“I will forgo breakfast and order us something if you come back to bed.”

“Technically it’s brunch and I’m almost done, so there's no reason to do that.”  You say.

“If you turn off the stove right now and come back to bed I’ll let you put your cold feet on me and I won’t even complain.”

“Ha very tempting.” You have to admit that one almost gets you. Elisa hates it when you put your cold feet on her to warm up. So for her to offer means she really wants it. 

You feel warm fingers creep under your hoodie and begin to rub up and down your sides. No doubt a part of her seduction plan to get you back into bed. Rolling your eyes, you feel the weight remove itself from your back and warm breath falling down the slope of your neck. A small lingering kiss behind your ear, down your neck. Her left hand comes up to move the neck of the sweater to get more skin on your shoulder. Her right hand travels down to rub soothing circles on your right hip. Relaxing back into her you feel her catch your weight and smile against the skin of your shoulder. She traces the line of your neck with her lips, barely a kiss. You have to admit the girl is good, she knows how to get you to come back to bed. But you started this and you want to give her brunch in bed so she can try but you won’t get back in bed until the food is done and plated. 

Straightening up you put down the fork you’re using to push Y/F/B around and turn to face Elisa. Her arms wrap around you and you wrap your arms around her neck so you can gaze at her. Leaning in you kiss her lightly, lingering long enough to have her chase you once you pull away. After some small kisses you tilt your head further up to trail your nose along hers and kiss each side of the bridge of her nose. This had been something that when you first got together you’d done all the time. Not sexual but incredibly intimate. A small shudder ripples through her and she pulls you closer, tucking her head into your neck. You stroke the back of her neck for a couple moments before you register it’s probably time to plate the food. Pulling away from her you move to grab the plates from the cupboard. Elisa trails behind you reaching around you to grab cutlery. 

You don’t speak as you plate the food together and carry it back into the bedroom and crawl into bed. Getting back under the covers as you adjust to make yourselves comfortable you put your cold feet against Elisa. 

“Get your cold feet off me!” She laughs.

“You said if I came back to bed I could put my cold feet on you!” 

“That was a conditional offer for a limited time only.”

You pout and pull your feet back in under yourself. Looking down at your plate you begin to pick at your food and play with it. Glancing up to see if Elisas is looking, she's giving you a look that says “really?” and you sniffle slightly to signify how absolutely wounded you are. 

“Oh my god, fine.” she says. 

“Yay!” you cry and wiggle your legs between hers. 

“Better?” she asks.

You look at her, the apartment you share, the food, and back at her smiling face before replying, 

“Perfect.”

[chelseachilly]

king of my heart - pt 11

i don’t wanna hurt you, i just wanna be drinking on a beach with you all over me

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: you and ben (try to) celebrate your anniversary; ben faces a setback and you decide to make some plans to take his mind off it warnings: none word count: 4k

a/n: i literally had half of this written when ben posted the pics of him and mase and their friends on the yacht hahah, manifested that fr. this is somewhat plotless again but i hope you enjoy the longer chapter!

The countdown to the Euros begins not long after the holidays are over. You’re not physically keeping track of the days, but the closer you get to June, the more the pressure seems to be building.

Specifically, the pressure Ben is putting on himself.

You’ve really admired his courage and determination throughout this whole ordeal, and you want him to make it to Germany more than anything - but not at the cost of his own well-being.

As soon as the doctors give him the all-clear to begin moving around more, working out in the gym and doing some light pitch work with the boys, Ben dives right in.

He’s at Cobham bright and early almost every morning for physio, now followed by several hours in the gym and often a couple more outside. He’s spending more time there than he did when he wasn’t injured, which you can’t help but find concerning, but he promises you he’s listening to the doctor’s advice.

It seems to be going well, with him seeming more and more alive with each passing week that he spends working toward full fitness. You know he’s still doing therapy sessions once a week, which is a massive relief to you. His mental well-being is your priority, and you don’t want it to take the backseat as he focuses on his physical recuperation.

In early March, you reach another important milestone - your one year anniversary. Although you weren’t technically a couple until later, Ben insists on counting from the day he met you. As he put it, his heart has been yours ever since, and it was too sweet for you to argue, so you went with it.

The morning of the anniversary, you wake up to find Ben already gone, like most mornings these days. You sigh and get up to get ready for work, feeling a bit sorry for yourself that you didn’t get to start your day with your boyfriend’s kisses.

Your mood is improved when you make it down to the kitchen and find a giant display of roses with a note attached.

Happy anniversary, my love. Sorry I had to go, but I’ll be home by 5 and then the celebrations begin! Pick out a pretty dress and I’ll take care of the rest. I love you so much and can’t wait for tonight xx

You smile to yourself as you wonder what he may have planned for the two of you later. It’s probably a fancy dinner or something, but honestly, you couldn’t care less, you’re just excited to spend time with Ben.

It hasn’t been an easy road to get to where you are now, but you’re so incandescently happy to have made it here.

On the tube, the whole day at work, and as you leave early so you can get ready before Ben gets home, you can’t stop smiling.

As you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup, your phone begins to ring. On your way over to pick it up from its charging station, you can’t help but look at yourself in the mirror, smiling at the sleek black dress you’ve chosen for the occasion. The very same one you were wearing the night you met Ben.

When you see his name flash on your phone, you grin even wider, unable to contain your excitement.

“Hey babe! Are you on your way home?”

“Hey,” Ben responds, and you can tell right away from his tone that something is wrong. “I’m still at Cobham. I - I tweaked my knee at training.”

You drop down to sit on the bed, your heart breaking for him.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” you breathe. “Are you okay? How bad is it?”

“They don’t think it’s too serious, but it’s probably going to push me back a few weeks,” he sighs. “I’m really sorry, love, they want to do some tests and I’m not sure when I’m going to be out of here. I’ll try to get home as soon as I can, or maybe you want to take Charlotte and use the dinner reservation I made, it’s on me of course-“

“I’m coming to Cobham,” you say decisively, without hesitation. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Y/N, you really don’t have to. I don’t want to ruin your night any more by having you come all the way down here and sit in a treatment room with me.”

“Don’t be silly, there’s nowhere else I would rather be right now,” you say softly. “Hang tight, honey, I’ll be right there.”

It doesn’t even occur to you to get changed before you’re driving down to Cobham, your heart hammering in your chest with concern. You know he said it’s not too big of a setback, hopefully, but your mind is full of what-ifs.

You breeze past security and run down to the treatment area, glancing in each room until you find Ben.

He’s sitting alone on one of the beds, an ice pack on his knee, scrolling on his phone when you arrive. When he hears you walk in, he lifts his head, and his jaw drops.

“Holy shit, you look incredible.”

You blush slightly, suddenly feeling a bit silly for coming here in your fancy date outfit, but you weren’t thinking about anything but Ben when you came here.

“Thanks, honey,” you say, walking over to him and taking his hand. “What happened?”

He sighs, squeezing your hand tightly. “I was just doing some basic training drills and I felt a really intense pain in my knee. The doctor checked me out and he thinks it’s just a strain and not another tear, but I need a scan tomorrow and I’ll probably have to sit out for two to three weeks.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you murmur, running your hand through his hair. “How do you feel now? Is the pain still bad?”

He nods, leaning into your touch and desperately seeking your comfort.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “But I’m mostly just frustrated. I’ve been working so hard to make it to the Euros and it could all be for nothing if I’m not fit in time. And I managed to fuck up our anniversary.”

“Hey,” you say, raising your voice slightly but keeping your tone gentle. “You’re going to be fit for the Euros. This is just a temporary setback, it’s going to be fine.”

Ben nods slightly, though he still won’t look at you, so you take his face in both hands and redirect his gaze to yours.

“And as for our anniversary, you haven’t ruined anything,” you assure him. “I just want to be with you, I don’t care where we are or what we’re doing. I love you, Benji. So much.”

“I love you, too,” he says, his eyes flooded with emotion. “I just wanted to be able to do something nice for you for a change. You’ve been helping me with this bloody injury for half the time we’ve been together, and I’m so grateful for that, but I didn’t want tonight to be about me again. I just wanted to not be a burden for once.”

“Ben, that’s sweet of you, but you don’t need to make anything up to me,” you say. “You’re not a burden, you’re my boyfriend, and I will be here for you no matter what. You don’t owe me anything in return.”

Ben tugs you closer, burying his face in your neck, and you can feel his hot tears on your skin. You comb your fingers through his hair, pressing kisses to the top of his head.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he murmurs into your neck.

“It’s alright,” you whisper. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

You continue to hold him for a while, until the physio comes back in to wrap his knee and give him some pain medication. As he’s talking with Ben about some strengthening exercises he should be doing, you excuse yourself for a minute, an idea forming in your head.

Once you’re down the hall and out of earshot, you call Charlotte and wait for her to answer.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, you said Mason has next week off, right?”

-

yourusername via stories

benchilwell via stories

-

The plan comes together within a matter of days, and by Thursday, you’re on a private jet bound for the Maldives with Ben, Mason, and Charlotte.

Mason and Charlotte jumped on board with your idea of taking a trip to distract Ben from his setback right away, and they even offered to take care of most of the planning. It worked out kind of perfectly with Mason having no game next weekend and both you and Charlotte having a slow month at work, and you were all eager to cheer up Ben in any way possible.

Although you were slightly concerned he wouldn’t be feeling up to it, Ben was elated when you told him what you were planning, and he assured you his knee would be fine.

The trip very quickly got way more extravagant than you’d expected, but you know how much money the boys make and how rarely they actually get an opportunity to spend it on a trip like this.

You spend the first three nights on a yacht, which could probably sleep ten or fifteen people but is reserved for the four of you. It’s by far the most over-the-top experience of your life, but it’s also the most fun.

You spend the days swimming and laughing with your friends, enjoying the scenic views from the boat and the warm weather.

As the days go on, you can feel Ben’s mood getting lighter and his heart a bit less burdened. By your final night on the boat, he seems to be completely relaxed, enjoying a few beers with dinner and joking around with Mason like he used to.

After you’ve finished eating and Mason and Charlotte have run off to their bedroom, Ben takes you by the hand and leads you to the front of the boat. There’s a big sofa bed set up with a dozen pillows, which you both lay down on and scoot closer to each other until you’re in his arms.

“This is so nice,” Ben murmurs into your hair as you lay with your head on his chest.

You’ve got one arm draped over him, fiddling with the soft material of his white t-shirt, and you let out an exhale against him.

You hadn’t completely realized how stressful the past few months have been, between Ben’s injury and your compounding work responsibilities, until you got here. Without thinking about work or football or anything, you’ve had the chance to just enjoy each other’s company and the time with your best friends.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” you agree.

As Ben stretches out his legs a bit more, you notice him wince slightly, and you’re reminded of the reason for this trip in the first place - to take his mind off his slow-going recovery.

Gently, you move your hand down to his lower thigh, just above his injured knee, and begin to carefully massage the area. You look at him to make sure you aren’t hurting him, but judging by the relief on his face, it seems to be helping.

“God, that’s like magic,” Ben exhales, laying his head back against the pillow. “How are you so good at this?”

“I may have asked the massage therapist at Chelsea for some tips,” you shrug. “I wanted to be able to help.”

Ben is silent for a moment as you continue your movements, and when you meet his gaze and see tears in his eyes, you quickly stop.

“Shit, did I hurt you?”

“No, not at all, babe,” Ben insists quickly, grabbing your hand that you pulled away and squeezing tightly. “Sorry, I just…I can’t believe how much I love you sometimes.”

Your heart melts at his tender words and loving gaze. You lean in to kiss him, gently cupping his face as you do so and brushing your thumb over his stubble.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “Want me to keep going?”

“Yes, please,” Ben smiles, tugging you closer so you can resume.

As you lay in his arms, doing everything you can to alleviate his pain in some way, it occurs to you that you can’t believe how much you love him, either.

You never foresaw yourself in a relationship like this, at least not since your dad died. In some ways, it’s still terrifying - you don’t think you could bear it if anything were to happen to Ben, or if you ever broke up.

But it’s also exhilarating being so in love with him. Letting yourself be so loved by him.

“What are you thinking about, love?” Ben asks after a bit.

“You, mostly,” you say flirtatiously, causing Ben to press a flurry of kisses to your forehead and cheek. When he pulls away and looks at you a bit more seriously, you continue. “I was just thinking that I never imagined myself in a serious relationship like this. I don’t think I had properly grieved my dad yet when we met, and I was still so scared of losing someone the way my mum did.”

Ben nods, listening intently and squeezing you a bit tighter. He knows how hard it is for you to talk about your dad, and he’s always there for you when you need it. You had barely been officially dating for a month when the anniversary of his death came around, and Ben, knowing it would be a tough day for you, had come over with your favourite takeaway, a ton of sweets, and offered to watch your favourite film with you. That same night, he had held you as you cried into his chest for a long time, murmuring soothing words and rocking you back and forth.

In some ways, from that night on, you had almost felt like Ben was a gift from your dad, or at least that he steered you in his direction. You aren’t a religious or particularly spiritual person, but you think if your dad was acting as some kind of guardian angel on your behalf, he would’ve done everything in his power to make sure you ended up with a kind, loving man like Ben. And it would’ve been incredibly on-brand for him to choose a Chelsea player out of all the men in London.

“I think he would be really glad to see how happy you make me,” you continue, intertwining your fingers with Ben’s as tears form in your eyes.

“I wish I had gotten to meet him,” Ben says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “He raised an incredible daughter.”

You smile and cuddle up closer to him, both of you intertwined and staring up at the night sky. There’s a beautiful display of constellations above you, stars that you never get to see under the bright city lights of London.

“I wish you had met him, too,” you say. “It would’ve been the easiest bringing-a-boy-home experience ever. He was a bigger fan of the club than Max.”

Ben chuckles softly and begins to caress your back.

“Hey, I just had an idea,” he says after a few minutes have passed. “You should move in with me when we get back.”

He says it so casually, as if he’s not suggesting a major milestone in your relationship, that it takes you a second to process.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” Ben smiles. “I mean, you basically live there already, you might as well stop paying rent somewhere else. And Charlotte’s never home, so it’s not like she’ll miss you much. What do you think?”

You’re surprised by how little you need to think about it. On one hand, it’s a big step moving in together. But on the other hand, as Ben pointed out, you’ve essentially been living with him since he got hurt. The odd mornings you wake up in your own flat, alone in bed, without his gentle kisses and warm embrace, your day is already off to a bad start.

“You won’t get sick of me?” you ask somewhat teasingly, though there are still traces of insecurity in your tone.

“Impossible,” Ben says incredulously. “I know you mostly started staying over more often to help me out since the injury, which I really appreciate. But it also made me realize that I want you there all the time, regardless of whether I need help showering and getting upstairs or not. I hate when you’re not there.”

“I do too,” you confess, squeezing his hand. “Okay, let’s do it! I’ll move in when we get back.”

Ben grins with glee and leans in to attack your face with little kisses, making you giggle as his lips move down to your neck.

“I can’t wait, baby,” Ben smiles, pulling you closer.

-

yourusername via stories

benchilwell via stories

-

After the first few days of your holiday spent on the yacht, you all head to a resort for the remainder of the trip.

It’s a beautiful spot, with white sandy beaches lined with palm trees and all the delicious cocktails and seafood you could want.

On the final day before your early departure tomorrow, you and Charlotte are laid up on two lounge chairs by the beach with a couple of piña coladas, soaking up every last minute of this perfect trip.

You’re watching Ben and Mason kick the football back and forth by the lapping waves as the sun begins to set.

“I’m going to miss this view,” Charlotte sighs with a sip of her drink.

You’re not sure if she’s referring to the scenic landscape or your shirtless boyfriends having a kickabout in front of it - either way, you concur.

“Me too,” you agree.

Ben kicks the ball straight through Mason’s legs, sending it into the water and forcing Mason to run and grab it, and he looks over at you grinning with a twinkle in his eye.

You can see how good this trip has been for him, how much he’s needed this reprieve from the constant routine of gruelling physio sessions and reminders at every turn of how much more it will take before he’s back on the pitch.

You blow him a kiss as he returns to playing with Mason, splashing around in the shallow water a bit like they’re a couple of little kids.

“So, you’re finally officially leaving me for Chilly,” Charlotte continues in a light tone, looking over at you.

You and Ben finally revealed your plans to move in together during dinner tonight. Although Mason and Charlotte were both excited for you, you wondered if she felt a little bittersweet - just as you did - about your chapter as roommates coming to an end.

“I’m gonna miss you, Char,” you say sadly. “I just felt like it was the right time, you know?”

“Don’t worry, I’m just taking the piss,” she smiles with a wave of her hand. “I’ll miss you too, but you’re in love and he’s head over heels for you. It’s definitely time.”

You chat for a few minutes about your plans for the next few weeks and Charlotte’s upcoming work engagements until the boys eventually return, sitting on the end of each of your chairs.

You tuck your legs in so Ben can scoot closer and kiss you, and you run your hand over the planes of his bare shoulder and back in appreciation.

“Looking good out there, babe,” you smile, touching his knee and squeezing lightly. “How’s it feeling?”

“Really good, actually,” Ben says happily, covering your hand with his own. “I think the rest and the physio exercises and your massages are really helping. I’m feeling better about my chances for Germany than I have since I first got hurt.”

“That’s amazing, sweetheart,” you exhale, your thumb stroking his thigh. “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. Regardless of what happens with the Euros, I want you to remember that, okay?”

“Thank you,” Ben says with glistening eyes. “And thank you for suggesting this trip. I think it was just what I needed. I love you so-“

“Oh my god, we get it, guys,” Mason teases from the chair next to you, where he and Charlotte are laughing at your overly-affectionate behaviour. Truth be told, you had forgotten they were there, so enraptured by this moment with Ben.

“Sorry,” you blush slightly, looking at Ben, who just laughs.

Before your friends can tease you any further, you’re interrupted by a young boy who couldn’t be more than six or seven running up to your group with wide eyes.

“Bloody hell, you’re Mason Mount!” he exclaims before turning to Ben. “And Ben Chilwell!”

“Language, Liam!” A woman, presumably the boy’s mother, exclaims as she runs up behind him. “Sorry, he’s a huge Chelsea fan and he spotted you from over there.”

“It’s no problem,” Mason smiles at the kid. “Hey, Liam, it’s nice to meet you.”

The little boy looks to be on the verge of falling over as he looks between Mason and Ben with disbelief.

“Are you coming back soon?” he asks Ben. “The club really needs you, my dad says the defense has been a nightmare lately.”

“Liam-“ his mother begins to scold him again, but Ben waves his hand as he and Mason laugh out loud.

“I hope so, mate,” Ben smiles. “Do you play football?”

“Yeah, I’m a forward on my school team!”

“Nice, I bet you score loads of goals, yeah?” Ben asks.

Liam nods excitedly, his eyes full of unabashed shock and glee that a real life Chelsea footballer is asking him questions.

“Alright, dear, we’d better leave the nice lads to their holiday,” his mum cuts in, grabbing her son’s hand. “Thanks, boys, he’s not going to forget this any time soon.”

“Of course!” Mason says, hopping to his feet. “You want a photo before you go?”

Ben and Mason take a quick picture with their adorable little fan before he and his mum walk away, her thanking the boys profusely once more.

As Mason and Charlotte head back toward the water, going for one final swim before you head back to the rooms, you stride over to Ben and wrap your arms around him tightly, enjoying the feeling of his bare skin against yours.

When you pull back, you press a long, passionate kiss to his lips that you’re grateful Mase and Charlotte aren’t watching - you’ve gotten called out enough for PDA on this trip.

“What was that for?” Ben asks when you pull back, a dazed expression on his face.

“You’re a good person, Benji,” you say simply, stroking his cheek. “And I can’t wait to see you back on the pitch. Not just for you or for me, but for the kids like that who look up to you.”

Ben nods, leaning down to peck your lips once more.

Then he surprises you by throwing you over his shoulder and running toward the water, despite your squeals of protest, and plopping both of you in the ocean. You’re laughing so hard your sides hurt by the time you make it back to shore, hand in hand with the man you love.

As you look ahead to the coming months, sure to be full of exciting changes for both of you, you can feel the fears and ghosts of your past fading away. For the first time, all you can think about is how excited you are for whatever the future holds.

benchilwell

📍Maldives

liked by yourusername, madders and others benchilwell A little R&R with my girl ❤️ view all comments

masonmount And your best mate 🤨

benchilwell 🤷🏻‍♂️

yourusername Ignore him, we love you Mase 🤍

chelseafc Looking forward to seeing those skills back on the pitch! 💙⚽️

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liked by benchilwell, declanrice and others

yourusername Paradise 🤍😌

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charlottewright Best trip 💕

benchilwell Beautiful

chillyfan1 we really owe y/n for all the shirtless ben content

-

tagging: @xjval @majx00 @delicateearthquakellama @lunamelona @kenanlotus0 @madriiid​ @mountstars​ @ttzamara​​ (pls let me know if you’d liked to be tagged!)

next chapter 💙

[doodle-pops]

Having Nightmares And Elladan Comforting You

Request: Hi! I love your writing so much and was so glad to see you've opened your requests. I was hoping I could please request a fluffy fic or headcanons with Elladan trying to comfort his partner who's having a repeat of the same nightmare each night? I'm such a simp for him and I'm so glad to see him on the list of characters you write for. Thank you :) - @snowsoothsayer

A/N: I was torn between writing this as a fic or a headcanon, so I merged both. All the other attempts at making it a fic turned out too angsty and I didn't want to give you that since you wished for fluff.

·⊰ As a heavy sleeper, it will take a lot to get Elladan to notice your frantic state beside him, whining and fighting around the bed as your dream becomes more graphic and terrifyingly vivid. While you were experiencing a nightmare beyond your wildest comprehension, he was still fast asleep.

·⊰ When morning rolls around and he turns to feel your presence beside him, he will be met with the imprint of your body and a blanket halfway torn off the bed. It was not an uncommon event for him to wake to an empty bed next to him given your job as a healer. You were required to be up and running early.

·⊰ Unbeknownst to Elladan, you were sitting outside on the balcony all night, baring the harshness of the cold to keep you awake. It was not the first time you had faced that nightmare and no matter how much you attempted to take herbal teas to reduce the hallucinations and vividness of the dreams, nothing worked.

·⊰ The entire day, you would appear as a walking zombie with severe dark circles under your eyes, yawning every few seconds and resisting the urge to find sleep. Due to your differences in duties, if he wasn’t up before you, then it was up and it was rare that your paths crossed. Hence, throughout the day, he could not discover your frightened state.

·⊰ When night falls, he would notice the panicked disposition you were currently in and question you on your distressed state. “Why do you look like someone gave you two black eyes? Did someone try to paint you as a raccoon? Is work getting difficult, do you want me to speak with my father?”

·⊰ All his questions melted your heart and made you laugh at his specific ability to fit a bit of humour into the mix. But not wanting to worry him with your nightmare because he had essential duties and couldn’t stay up all night, you would shake it off with a lie of being tired and not getting enough sleep. “Don’t worry, I’ll take a few days off to rest.”

·⊰ Finding your response reasonable, Elladan would not find anything suspicious about it until he does experience a hit to his body during the night. It takes a lot to wake him from his slumber, so it explains that your nightmare was awfully terrifying. Flying from his sleep, ready to strike at the intruder, he is met with your frightened body warding off whosoever.

·⊰ A few shakes and calls of your name would take you out of your nightmare and immediately into Elladan’s arms, trembling. The grip you held onto him was unlike any other and in that instant, he knew not getting enough sleep and being stressed was not the complete answer.

·⊰ Elladan would allow you to hold him as tightly as you wish without complaint for as long as you desired. He needed you to see he was your safe haven, and that the threat was gone. Expect his voice to become soft like petals as he caresses your skin and sends you sweet, reassuring words.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. I’m here now and nothing is going to harm you ever again. I’m here meleth, I am here.”

Elladan’s second act is to lie with you on his chest and rest your ear above his heartbeat, using it as a soothing method to relieve your frantic state. Your entire body was trembling with fear, and it pained him to witness you experiencing this. He’s aware that you’re in no state to speak about what you envisioned.

“There, there, meleth. Everything is alright now. Whatever or whoever it was, I’m here to save you from them,” he cooed into your hair while he littered dozens of soft-petal kisses.

Both arms wrapped around you, one rubbing your back and the other cradling your head to his chest. The faint scent of peppermint and oranges radiating off his body gave your mind an extra sense of security. Your arms tightened around his upper body, though he could bare the constriction of your arms, he was willing to take the pain if it meant removing yours.

“Elladan,” you sniffled, “if I needed saving, would you be there?”

Your question was enough to ring bells in his head about what your nightmare was based on, a fear of yours you once unfortunately experienced. It was how he met you. It wasn’t the first time he learned that you suffered nightmares and dreamt about your incident, but it was new for him to realise that as its one-year anniversary approached, it became stronger.

Nothing wasting a second to give you any sense of false hope, he courageously responded with pride and valour, “I would give my life for yours in a heartbeat.” The hands that rested against your skin constricted around your body and pressed you closer to his chest, removing any ounce of spacing. In response, he felt your body sagging against his as the tension easily dissipated. Part of him felt horrible that he couldn’t remove the accursed dream out of your mind and the other part wished that he had found you before the more horrid things happened.

“Oh, my little meleth. My sweet, sweet, little lovable meleth, don’t you know I’m your knight in shining armour? I’m your saviour! I’m the strongest elf there ever were!” he boasted and joked, though he was quickly put in his place by the last statement.

Giggling at his eccentric remarks, you were appalled when he made the statement of being the strongest. As much as you knew he was lifting your spirits out of the pit, it was enough to make you correct him. “You are far from the strongest Elladan,” you informed, “if it’s anyone, it’s Lord Glorfindel, the Balrog Slayer.”

“Who says I can’t fight a Balrog?” he shouted.

“Me, because you’ll probably get pulled by your hair like Lord Glorfindel did,” you giggled.

Offended by your statement, he jerked his head back dramatically and gasped, “Excuse me! I’m trying to be all heroic here and you’re not letting me. You’re dragging me!”

“Back down to earth to be humbled,” you snorted. Your mood was improving despite the lurking images of your nightmare in the background, Elladan’s sense was humour was enough to fight them off.

“You are the worse supporter ever.”

“And you are the best.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @floraroselaughter @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner

[tourettesdog]

Ectober Day 4: Box and Staff

Title: Sleepy Time

Word Count: 5243

AO3 Link

Summary:

Danny is a very sleepy ghost boy and at this point anything qualifies as a bed.

---

What Danny wouldn’t give for just one peaceful night. One night where he could lie down, fall fast asleep, and stay asleep for a humane amount of hours. No matter how often he patrolled, it seemed there was always a ghost waiting to attack at the unholy hour of 2AM. 

The entire weekend had followed this pattern, with ghost attacks interspersed throughout the day. Skulker woke Danny up with a loud, resounding shout Friday night that had his parents up in arms. Between running Skulker a safe distance away– determined not to have another fight destroy part of the lab– and his parents chasing after, firing indiscriminately, Danny had no chance to rest that night. 

He still had traces of a bruise on his chin from that particular debacle. 

Saturday had been little better when Technus decided that their neighbor’s old sedan fit perfectly with his latest collection of tech. There were still trees blocking part of the road outside their house from the bulky machine careening down the street.

Sunday followed this same pattern, with Johnny 13 making a mad dash away from Amity Park on his motorcycle, forcing Danny to chase after him. They’d almost wound up in West Virginia by the time Danny caught him, and the lonely flight back took what little energy he had left at that point.

Danny thought he might finally get some rest when he returned to Illinois and sank into his bed– until an ectopus drifted past his bedroom window.

The ectopus hardly put up a fight, but Danny struggled to fall asleep afterwards, waking up at random intervals, tossing and turning. By the time the sun rose, Danny stared out his window with squinted eyes, groaning.

Of course he had to have school today. He already had a headache.

Danny dragged his feet through the halls of Casper High, head hung low, messy black bangs draped over his eyes as he made his way to his locker. Tucker already stood there waiting for him and gave a sympathetic ‘oof’ when Danny smacked his head against the door to his locker.

“Another bad night, then?” Tucker asked, patting Danny on the shoulder.

Danny lifted his head just high enough to smack it back against the locker with a clang.

“Ow…” he mumbled, wincing as his headache pounded.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Tucker observed.

Danny turned his head to look up at Tucker. His friend was several inches taller now, though that didn’t say much when Danny barely brushed five feet. 

“I think I slept maybe two hours all weekend,” Danny groaned. 

Tucker grimaced. “You gonna be okay, dude? You sure you can make it today?”

Danny stood up straight long enough to root through his locker and pull out the books he needed for the day. He shoved them into his backpack and fought with the zipper to close it. 

“At this rate, I’ll be lucky if I make it through our first class,” Danny grumbled, teeth gritted as he tugged harder on the zipper.

Yanking too hard, Danny accidentally ripped the zipper clean off of his bag.

Staring at the piece of shattered metal in his hand, Danny slumped back against his locker, shut his eyes, and rhythmically smacked the back of his head against it.

“Yikes, what’s eating him?” Danny heard Sam ask.

“No sleep again, and he just decimated the zipper on his bag,” Tucker said.

Sam audibly sighed. Danny felt a hand grab his arm and pull him away from his locker. 

“You get enough blows to the head without giving yourself more of them,” Sam said. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

Sam helped Danny get his bag rearranged, but there wasn’t much they could do for the zipper. They managed to strap it closed with an old cable, but it looked an absolute mess. At least the thermos wouldn’t fall out of the bag, which was frankly all that mattered to Danny. He had a spare bag at home he could swap it out with later.

Danny tried his best to stay awake during his first class, but it seemed as if the universe was conspiring against him. Danny sat by the window and the warm sunlight filtering through the blinds dragged his eyelids low. It was all he could do to resist the urge to curl up on his desk like a cat and soak in the warmth.

It didn’t help that Mr. Lancer’s history lesson droned into a monotonous lecture. Mr. Lancer usually tried to show some level of enthusiasm for what he was teaching, but it seemed even he had no interest in the particular branch of US history they were learning. That or, judging by the way he pinched at his tear ducts, he might simply have had a migraine.

Between lack of sleep, his sun-warmed desk, and the droning lecture, Danny was asleep within five minutes. 

Mercifully, Tucker noticed in time to shake him awake. Danny gave him an awkward thumbs up over his shoulder.

This proceeded to happen no less than three times, until Tucker just took to rhythmically kicking the back of Danny’s seat to keep him awake. That worked for a while, but Danny eventually still managed to slip back into a light doze.

When the bell rang, Danny startled awake, lurching as his head fell out of his hand and he tipped dangerously to the side. He jumped to his feet, as though ready to fight something, and only calmed when Tucker patted his shoulder.

“Come on, Spooky, there’s nothing to punch,” he said.

Blushing slightly, Danny gathered his mess of a bag and slung it over his shoulder. He followed Tucker to the front of the class, pausing when Mr. Lancer cleared his throat.

“Mr. Fenton, I expect you to be more alert in time for my English quiz,” he said while rubbing at his left temple.

Danny nodded his head. “Sorry, I will be,” he mumbled.

Mr. Lancer gave a firm nod and went back to reading from the book on his desk. Danny quickly sped to catch up with Tucker at the door. They met with Sam in the hall and headed for gym class. 

Danny grabbed his gym clothes and took them to the toilet stalls to change as usual. It was a hot day, easily over eighty degrees, but Danny kept his red sweatshirt on over his gym clothes. He’d rather flare his core to keep cool than go without it.

Unfortunately, flaring his core required using more energy. It was fine at first when their class walked down the field to play soccer, but Danny quickly lost steam from there. He trudged along beside Tucker, who stuck resolutely close to the slight chill Danny put off. It was a struggle to keep up the pretense of trying– though Dash helped, in an ironic way. He kept kicking the ball towards (at) Danny, and running past him close enough to knock shoulders. With him constantly engaging Danny, it at least gave the appearance of him participating. Danny could have done without the bruises to his shoulder, but at least Ms. Tetslaff wasn’t yelling at him. 

Still, by the time they headed back towards the gym, Danny wasn’t able to keep the chill of his core flared enough to stave off the heat. He leaned miserably against Sam, letting her half-drag him up the hill. She reviewed book notes for their English quiz as they walked, though Danny hardly absorbed the words.

Between Tucker keeping him awake in class, and Sam almost carrying him, Danny owed his friends big time. He wasn’t sure where he’d be without them.

Probably in a ditch somewhere.

(Asleep, that is. The dying thing had already sailed.)

Danny welcomed their lunch period with open arms, prepared to put his head down and have a well-deserved nap.

Unfortunately, a ghost had other ideas.

The timing was impressive, in all honesty. No sooner had Danny pillowed his head on his arms, sighing contently, when that sigh turned into a puff of blue mist.

The expletive he shouted drew a few stares.

It didn't take long for Danny to find the culprit. A loud crashing sound echoed from the hallway outside the cafeteria. After darting in the restroom to transform, Danny followed the noise.

He found Boxy wreaking havoc on the science department, upending what appeared to be boxes of new lab equipment. Danny watched as one of the boxes tipped upside down. It sent a large package of beakers crashing to the ground, smashing Danny's own record within seconds.

Were he better rested and thinking straight, Danny might have been able to save the rest of the supplies from destruction. Seeing as he was barely awake and squinting through bleary eyes, however, it didn't occur to Danny to catch any of the boxes when he souped the Box Ghost from the air.

The rest of the lab equipment crashed down in Boxy's absence, the sound a monstrous crescendo of shattering glass and crunching metal.

Danny noticed a teacher in the corner of the room. She stared, open-mouthed with horror at the destruction. 

As Danny awkwardly backstepped out of the room, a sheepish grin on his face, she burst into tears.

When Danny returned to the cafeteria with nine minutes to spare, he gave Sam and Tucker a dispassionate, "Don't ask," before planting his forehead on the table and passing out.

The day continued to nosedive, as it often did, with Mr. Lancer's English class.

Danny liked Mr. Lancer well enough as a teacher, but he unfortunately still believed in Danny enough to keep him on his toes. Many of the teachers no longer reprimanded him for falling asleep or missing assignments, but Mr. Lancer was determined to make Danny apply himself. It would have been touching that he cared, were it not so frustrating.

As it was, Danny stared at his English quiz, seeing double. The words blurred and morphed together, smudged through his bleary vision. It was all Danny could do to keep his drooping eyelids from shutting tight.

Tucker didn't sit behind him in this class, so there was no rhythmic chair kicking to keep Danny awake. Sam did sit beside him– and she definitely threw a pencil at him the first time his eyes snapped shut– but there wasn't much she could do discreetly during a test.

Inevitably, Danny's eyes shut tight as he leaned into his hand, propped up on his elbow. 

Danny was flying, drifting on a warm breeze. A clear sky glittered overhead, the stars turning, spinning, blinking in wavering patterns.

Flipping on his back, crossing his arms behind his head, Danny watched as the stars coalesced in a brilliant tapestry. A landscape opened up across the heavens, towering mountains and low valleys of radiant stardust.

“Mr. Fenton.”

The landscape rippled, as though caught in a rough breeze. The wind blew harshly against Danny’s face, suddenly cold.

“Mr. Fenton.”

A strong gust of wind scattered the stardust to nothing. It left the sky inky black and empty, yawning overhead– crashing down as the wind roared loudly in Danny’s ears, icy and sharp. 

Soon, all that remained was that wind. Danny tensed, searching for something– anything in the darkness that sprung up around him.

Something tapped his shoulder.

Danny shot up suddenly, his desk scraping loudly across the floor as he stood. He braced himself for a fight, but… froze when he saw Mr. Lancer staring down at him with an eyebrow raised.

Snickers broke out around him and Danny glanced to his right in time to see Sam facepalm. 

“Is there any particular reason you can’t stay awake today, Mr. Fenton?” Mr. Lancer asked, drawing Danny’s attention back to him.

Danny was now as sure as he could be that Mr. Lancer had a migraine. The bags under his eyes weren’t as dark as Danny’s, but they were deeper than usual. He kept rubbing at his temple still, almost absently.

“Sorry, Mr. Lancer,” Danny said as he awkwardly sat back down. “Just… a headache.” 

Truthfully, he did still have a headache. Probably not one as bad as Mr. Lancer’s, but Danny didn’t think that sleep deprivation was an answer his teacher would take lightly.

Glancing across the classroom, Danny could see Tucker giving him a commiserating smile, and Dash miming someone startling badly. Several classmates weren’t even watching, though. This situation happened frequently enough that it had lost some of its novelty.

Mr. Lancer sighed. “Do you need to go to the nurse’s office, Mr. Fenton?” he asked. 

Danny cringed, sinking down a little in his seat. He hadn’t been to the nurse’s office for over a year now, since the Accident, and he wasn’t about to start now over a small headache.

“N–no I think I’m good,” he said quickly. 

Mr. Lancer sighed again, shaking his head. “I’d like you to stay after class, Mr. Fenton. Please try to stay awake enough to finish your quiz until then.”

He turned and went back to his desk, saying, “Ten more minutes; use your time wisely,” to the class before he sat down.

Danny rubbed at his face in frustration, groaning as he distinctly heard Dash snicker.

By the time class ended, Danny had managed to stay awake, but he had not managed to finish the quiz. It didn’t help that he had hardly read the book assignment– The Catcher in the Rye– and his memory of Sam’s notes was vague at best. He was confident in maybe three of his answers, and certain that his incomplete essay at the end would be poorly received. 

Sam and Tucker gave Danny encouraging thumbs up as they left the room. He knew they’d both wait for him in the hall.

After tying the cable back around his backpack, Danny dragged his feet to the front of the classroom. He stood in front of Mr. Lancer’s desk, waiting for the man to address him. He was grading a stack of papers, marking them with a red pen as he went.

“How is your head feeling?” Mr. Lancer asked without looking up.

The question threw Danny off kilter. He paused, wracking his mind for suitable words. “Uh, it’s getting better. I took some ibuprofen earlier,” he said.

Danny had not taken ibuprofen earlier. He had to take three or four times the recommended dose for it to even touch his pain these days, and a small headache wasn’t worth the trouble.

Mr. Lancer gave him a nod. He made one last mark on the paper in front of him, circling a line of text near the bottom of the page, before he finally looked up.

“Is there anything else going on, Mr. Fenton?” he asked.

His green eyes bored into Danny’s, and he had the distinct feeling of being scanned. It was moments like this that reminded Danny why Jazz liked Mr. Lancer as a teacher so much. Both of them were perceptive when it came to people.

“No?” Danny started, cringing a little at the uncertain tone in his own voice. “I mean, I didn’t really sleep well last night, but… yeah.” 

He trailed off, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

Mr. Lancer looked him up and down, his eyes settling on the slight bruising he still had on his cheek.

"If there's anything troubling you at home, I am always here to listen, Daniel," he said. 

Danny shuffled uncomfortably, digging his shoe into the linoleum floor. 

“Now,” Mr. Lancer began, reaching for a folder on the far side of his desk, “I won’t give you detention this time, but if I catch you sleeping in my classroom tomorrow I won’t be so lenient. Forgo any… extracurriculars tonight and get some sleep, Mr. Fenton. Have a good evening.”

Blinking dazedly, Danny could only nod and stutter out a confused, “Y-you too– the good evening thing, that is.”

Gripping the straps of his book bag tightly, Danny hurried out the door before Mr. Lancer could change his mind.

Sam and Tucker were the only people left in the hallway. It was the end of the school day and most people had already left or carried on to after school activities. Tucker swung an arm over Danny’s shoulders as they fell into step together.

“So, when’s your detention?” Tucker asked him.

Danny snorted. For once, he was happy to have an answer for that question. “Didn’t get detention,” he said, shooting his friend a fanged grin.

Tucker gasped and ground to a stop, jostling Danny beneath his arm. “Wait, really? What did he say?”

“He just… asked what was wrong. Told me I could talk to him if something was bothering me,” he said with a shrug. “It was kind of weird–  but in a nice way.”

The trio resumed walking, turning around the corner. They passed by the science department where several staff members were still cleaning up the broken glass. Sam slowed, craning her neck to get a better look, but Danny grabbed her arm and sped up, not wanting to linger by the mess.

He had forgotten how hot it was outside. The moment they stepped out into the heat, Danny groaned. What little energy had been startled into him by his nervous interaction with Mr. Lancer had faded, sapped away by fatigue. He leaned into Tucker as they went down the school steps and towards the sidewalk.

“You really should go get some sleep, dude,” Tucker said, eyeing Danny. “You look dead on your feet.”

Sam punched him in the shoulder while Danny laughed.

“He’s right, though,” Sam said. “You always look exhausted, but this is a bit much, even for you.”

Danny groaned exasperatedly. “Tell that to the ghosts that keep floating by my bedroom window,” he said.

“What was it last night?” Tucker asked. 

“After Johnny? A fucking ectopus,” Danny said, throwing his arms up in exasperation, nearly shrugging off Tucker’s arm. “I almost would have preferred Skulker again. At least then I’d have something to take my frustration out on,” he added in a low grumble.

“With how tired you are, I don’t think fighting Skulker is the best idea right now,” Sam said. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. We heading to FentonWorks?”

“Please no,” Danny said a little too quickly. “My parents are still fixing the lab wall. I don’t think I could sleep through that racket if I tried.”

Tucker snorted. “Still? Hasn’t it been like a week?”

“Five days. Five miserable, loud days. Were you not reading my texts? Did I not complain enough?”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “In my defense, you didn’t update us on the lab wall fiasco over the weekend, so I assumed it was over.”

“I’m sorry if I was a little too busy complaining about the trio of dumbasses that is Skulker, Technus, and Johnny.  I’ll try to squeeze in loud Fenton bullshit hours next time.”

“See that you do,” Tucker said, nodding sagely.

Danny snorted, waving his arm to slap at him.

“So, where we going then?” Sam pressed. “I don’t know about you two, but I want to get out of this heat.”

They hadn’t made it very far from the school. With Danny leaning into Tucker, and no clear destination decided, they’d stopped at the corner.

Tucker made a thoughtful humming sound. “How about my place? My mom’s working and my dad shouldn’t bug us. Danny can take a nap while we play games or something.”

“Yeah, sure. Better than standing out here all day,” Sam said with a shrug.

“You’re going to play games without me?” Danny whined, doing his best attempt at puppy dog eyes (the effect probably ruined, at least somewhat, by how squinted they were).

“Yep,” Sam said, popping the ‘p’. She gave him a once-over with her arms crossed, her smile twisting into a concerned frown.

“Go transform and I’ll carry you,” she offered.

Danny perked up immediately, throwing Tucker’s arm off his shoulder. He glanced around quickly to make sure there was no one watching before darting into the tall bushes nearby. He heard Sam mutter, “That woke him up a little,” as he transformed.

As soon as the cold rings washed over him, Danny felt for his invisibility, letting it wash over in the same way. Floating back over to Sam and Tucker, he gave a quiet, “Here,” to let Sam know where he was before settling across the tops of her shoulders and spider backpack like a very large snake.

He let his spectral tail hang down one side of her neck and his arm down the other. He nestled his head on her shoulder and sighed happily. Thankfully, Danny was light enough in this form for Sam to carry him without issue.

“Just stay awake long enough for us to get to Tuck’s house. If you turn visible on me in the middle of the street, I will personally soup you,” she whispered.

“Noted.”

Danny put every last ounce of his energy into keeping his eyelids open on the walk to Tucker’s house. The gentle sway of Sam walking, paired with the heat, made for a sleepy combination. By the time they stepped over the threshold of Tucker’s house, blissfully welcomed by air conditioning, Danny had finally lost the battle against his eyelids. 

He heard Tucker gasp loudly, hissing out a frightened, “Danny!” before he felt– and heard– Sam thunder up the steps to Tucker’s bedroom. Danny opened his eyes in time to watch Tucker slam the door behind him, turning the lock.

“That was a close one,” Tucker said, pressing his ear expectantly to the door, his red beanie askew. “I think my dad’s outside– otherwise he might’ve seen the ghost who was supposed to stay invisible.”

“‘M sorry,” Danny mumbled, shutting his eyes again.

Sam sighed. Danny felt her pivot and heard her boots take a couple of steps on the wooden floor. 

“You’re hopeless when you’re tired,” she said. “How have you kept your secret this long?”

“Talent,” Danny mumbled into her shoulder.

Sam snorted. Her shoulders rose and Danny felt her hands grab him under the armpits. He kept his eyes closed, expecting her to flop him onto Tucker’s bed, but was surprised when he felt himself land inside something.

Tucker began to cackle, his laughter quickly devolving into wheezes. Danny opened his eyes and came face to face with– 

Cardboard. He was inside a box. 

Groaning, Danny rolled onto his back, brushing his white bangs out of his eyes. His tail fell the rest of the way into the box with him, curled over his stomach.

“Sam. Why am I in a box?” he asked,

It was a pretty big box, though Danny wasn’t sure why Tucker had it. Judging by the give in the bottom, it was sitting on his bed. Danny couldn’t stretch out his arms inside the thing, but he could curl up with some room to spare.

“I dunno. It just seemed funny,” Sam said, laughing. 

“What’s this thing even from?” Danny asked. “It’s a pretty nice box.”

Tucker’s face swam into view as he leaned over the box, still chuckling. He lifted his glasses, wiping away a tear.

“It’s from my new desk,” he said between chuckles. “I figured I’d keep it to store shit in. Think we could replace the thermos with one of these bad boys?”

“I want you to think for two seconds about Boxy before you seriously consider that statement,” Sam said.

Danny huffed a laugh. Rolling onto his side, he let his tail curl around him and pillowed his head on his arms. He felt the bed sink down a bit on one side and heard someone fumbling with what sounded like game controllers.

“Are you seriously comfortable in there?” Sam asked, her voice hovering just over his ear.

Danny hummed in response, nestling into his arms. It probably would be more comfortable on the bed, but he was already so tired, and the walls of the box made him feel strangely safe…

Sam laughed again, more quietly this time. He heard the telltale sounds of Tucker starting up Smash Bros., followed by him quickly lowering the volume. 

A hand fell into Danny's hair, gently scratching his scalp. In his sleepy, half-awake state, Danny was faintly aware of the contented rumble in his chest.

"Just like a cat," Danny heard Tucker snicker.

The noise of a cell phone camera going off followed.

It was the last thing Danny heard, other than the distant sounds of their game, before he fell into a fitful sleep.

~*~

Danny's mind was sluggish as he woke. He opened his eyes, expecting to see the familiar stars on his ceiling, but was surprised to see a dark room with a spinning ceiling fan instead.

Turning on his side, Danny noticed short walls surrounding him. He panicked for a moment, thinking he was trapped, before remembering he'd fallen asleep in…

A box.

A box, of all things.

Danny was still in his ghost form, and in the dark he could see that part of the box was dented. Danny could only assume he’d crushed it in his sleep. Coiling up on his tail, slipping out of a blanket Sam or Tucker must’ve thrown over him, Danny rose up like a cobra and glanced around Tucker’s bedroom. He couldn't tell what time it was, though it must’ve been well past sunset, judging by the darkness. 

Sam was nowhere to be seen, but Tucker was curled up in bed, fast asleep. At least, he was asleep– until Danny leaned too heavily on the box and it tore down the side, causing him to tumble forward and land on his friend’s legs.

Startling awake, Tucker quickly sat up, pulling his legs to his chest.

“Wha– Danny? You good?” he groggily asked, stifling a yawn.

Danny yawned as well, still feeling rather tired despite what must have been several hours of rest.

“I feel a bit better,” he said. “How long was I out? What time is it? Where’s Sam?”

Tucker rolled on his side and groped a hand across his nightstand, grabbing his glasses and phone. Both of them squinted as the phone powered on, singing their retinas with its sudden light.

“It’s almost eleven, so uhhh… seven hours or so? Sam left hours ago.”

“Ancients…” Danny muttered, rubbing his tired eyes.

A sobering thought suddenly came to mind.

“Wait, shit, I should get home, I–”

“Already taken care of,” Tucker said, yawning again. “As far as your parents are concerned, you’re sleeping over tonight. My parents don’t know, though, so try to keep it down.”

He gave a cheeky grin and Danny felt his anxiety melt away with it.

“So, are you going to keep sleeping in my box– which you totally destroyed, by the way– or do you want to actually use the bed?”

Danny glanced down at the cardboard under him. The box had certainly seen better days. It had been surprisingly comfortable while it lasted, at least.

“Bed sounds good,” Danny said wearily. “I can’t believe you let me sleep in a box.”

Tucker just laughed at that.

Danny crawled across the bed to the side closest to the wall. Tucker lifted his blanket and Danny phased his way under it. He settled down, burying his face in one of Tucker’s many pillows.

“Am I too cold like this?” he asked, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I can transform if you want.”

Danny was getting considerably better at controlling his powers. Aside from being able to maintain his form while unconscious now, he also had significantly more control over his temperature. He couldn’t necessarily make himself warm as Phantom, but he could decrease the chill he put off.

Sleeping as a ghost appealed to Danny– seeing as it meant he wouldn’t have to take off his binder– but he would transform for Tucker’s comfort if not his own. 

Tucker hummed thoughtfully. “Naw, you’re good. Just let me turn off the ceiling fan.”

He reached for something else on his nightstand, producing a tiny remote. It shut off the fan and Danny watched as the blades slowly ground to a halt.

Tucker settled back into bed, taking off his glasses, carding a hand through his curly bangs. He let loose another yawn and rolled over to look at Danny.

“You’re not hungry or anything are you? You did sleep most of the day,” he said.

Danny shook his head. He never had much of an appetite since the Accident. Sam suspected it had something to do with all of the ambient ectoplasm in Amity. 

“Just tired still,” he said. “Thanks for letting me sleep for so long, by the way.”

Tucker hummed, shutting his eyes. “You needed it,” he mumbled.

Danny certainly agreed. Those seven hours of sleep had helped, but he still felt pretty exhausted. Not every week of fighting ghosts was like this, but the ones that were dragged him down. He was only thankful for no major injuries this time around.

Snuggling deeper under the blanket, Danny wiggled his way closer to Tucker, burying his head under his friend’s chin. Tucker shifted, lifting his arm over Danny in a practiced manner, draping it over his shoulders. 

Listening to the rhythmic sound of Tucker’s breathing and the steady beat of his heart, Danny quickly found himself falling into a restful sleep. 

“G’nigh,” Tucker mumbled, hardly coherent.

Danny’s core rumbled contently in response.

~*~

Danny awoke the next day feeling, at last, actually awake. After changing into some clothes Tucker kept at his house for him, Danny slipped out of Tucker’s bedroom window and waited outside to give him a lift to school. 

He didn’t manage to replace his book bag, but dealing with the broken zipper felt considerably more manageable when well-rested. 

They met up with Sam in the hall as usual, and there was something in her grin that had him feeling nervous.

“What did you do?” Danny warily asked her.

Sam’s grin widened. She leaned against her locker, flicking through something on her phone.

“Oh, you know… just thinking about photography,” she said.

Danny paused, trying to parse out whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. Then, with dawning horror, he remembered hearing the sound of a phone camera the night before.

“You didn’t,” he said, standing up straight, eyes narrowed at Sam.

“Oh, I did.”

She tapped something on her phone and turned the screen towards him. On it was a picture of Phantom, curled up inside of a box with his tail tucked around his messy white hair.

Danny quickly made to grab for the phone, but Sam held it up high, far out of his short reach.

“Tucker has copies too, so don’t you dare,” she said with a laugh.

Danny grabbed at her shoulders, shaking her lightly. “Sam, please tell me you didn’t post that anywhere,” he said, practically begging.

Sam waved her hand dismissively. “Why post it when we can keep it all to ourselves?” she said.

“And when we can threaten to post it the next time you spill one of those ectoplasm shakes on–” 

“That was one time!” Danny interrupted Tucker with a whine.

“I can see the meme caption now,” Tucker continued dramatically, ignoring Danny’s interjection, “‘The New Box Ghost’!”

Sam snorted with laughter while Danny continued to groan, making one last, futile grab for her phone.

[swiftie-as-a-coursing-river]

Hi! Heard you are Nikolai Lantsov's no ! stan. I love that man. What songs do you think would associate with him?

LMAO I LOVE THIS ASK SO MUCH OMG.

I actually have so many I associate with him, it’s a little crazy, but I’ll list some of my top ones (they’re all Taylor swift lmao)

*apologies for how long this is and how bad I am at explaining things LMAOOOO

1. Castles Crumbling by Taylor Swift- I could write PAGES UPON PAGES about this. The whole song is him but that BRIDGE?

“Smoke billows from my ships in the harbor/People look at me like I’m a monster”

TELL ME THAT WASNT WRITTEN ABT HIM?!

2. The Archer by Taylor Swift- Don’t even get me started. I’ve seen so many edits of him to this song (and I made one myself but it’s not on my edits tumblr yet). Once again, the BRIDGE of that song?!

“They see right through me”

“All the kings horses and all the kings men couldn’t put me together again”

“Cause all of my enemies started off friends”

But also a lot of the lyrics outside of the bridge

“I never grew up, it’s getting so old”

“I wake in the night/I pace like a ghost/the room is on fire/invisible smoke”

This song is insanely Nikolai coded.

3. Mirrorball by Taylor Swift- I saw the most insane edit to this months ago that lowkey changed my life. It was to the speech from the long pond studio sessions film where she discusses the song, saying:

“We have mirrorballs in the middle of a dance floor because they reflect light, they are broken a million times and that's what makes them so shiny, we have people like that in society, too. They hang there and every time they break it entertains us. And when you shine a light on them it's this glittering, fantastic thing, but then a lot of the time when the spotlight isn't on them they're just still there on a pedestal but nobody's watching them”

If this is not Nikolai I don’t know what is. Some other lyrics I connect with him are:

“I can change everything about me to fit in”

Really reminds me of how he kinda completely changed himself and his various identities to match what others wanted

“I'm still a believer but I don't know why”

“I’ve never been a natural all I do is try try try”

“I’m still on that trapeze/I’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me”

4. Dear Reader- Taylor Swift

This song has always been a Kaz song for me but is insanely Nikolai.

“Dear Reader, get out your map/pick somewhere and just run”

“Dear Reader, burn all the files/desert all your past lives”

“And if you don’t recognize yourself/that means you did it right”

All of these make me think of how Nikolai grapples with self image and identities throughout the books. The second part makes me think of Sturmhond, the demon, and also lowkey Isaak.

And then the BRIDGE?

“So I wandered through these nights/I prefer hiding in plain sight”

“These desperate prayers of a cursed man”

“You wouldn’t take my word for it if you knew who was talking”

“To a house not a home all alone cause nobody’s there”

“No one sees you lose when you’re playing solitaire”

That’s all I’ll be talking abt for now but there are so many more. Some honorable mentions are:

The Lucky One

The last great American dynasty

You’re on Your Own, Kid

Bejeweled

Anti Hero

epiphany

And so many more. I’ve actually made edits to a lot of these at @to-assess-the-equation-of-you and on tiktok @cassles.dazzles! I could talk about this all day and sorry for how long this was 😭

[crissiebaby]

The Padded Palace Act IV: Chapter 13

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, crossdressing, inappropriate language, humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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“...we were having so much fun that we didn’t notice how late it was getting. I don’t remember falling asleep,” said Riri, unable to stop twirling her fidgety fingers against one another. High-pressure situations were never her strong suit, and even though Latasha had remained fairly casual throughout the majority of the chaos, it was still harrowing to speak one-on-one seriously with a Big, “I didn’t wake up until you and Skye got back so that’s pretty much everything. I feel like such a wimp for not stopping Stacy before things got out of hand.”

Seated at her desk across from Riri, Latasha extended a caring hand toward the anxious Little, gently clasping Riri’s hand within hers. “Go easy on yourself. Take it from me, Stacy isn’t the easiest person to keep a handle on,” she said, snorting softly, “I’m proud of you for sticking by Connor’s side. A night like that could’ve scared even the boldest kinkster away.”

Riri’s cheeks quickly turned rosy over Latasha’s generous remarks. “I j-just tried to do what I thought you would do,” she said boastfully, failing to suppress the praise kink.

“Well, you did good,” said Latasha dismissively, her reaction to receiving compliments standing in complete opposition to Riri’s. She wasted no time swapping subjects, “Though, I wouldn’t get too excited if I were you. I haven’t forgotten about your potty mouth, little miss.”

Flipping from a smile to a pout on a dime, Riri had hoped the amount of stuff going on would help confuscate her outburst from earlier. Looking back now, it almost felt like another person had taken control of her body and dropped an F-bomb against her will. “You’re not gonna tell Daddy, are you?” she asked nervously, “I promise, I’ll never, ever, ever do it again!”

“Hmmm… I waaaaas going to inform Martin…but so long as you keep that promise, I think we can make this incident a Padded Palace secret,” said Latasha, letting relief wash over Riri as she reached into the bottom drawer of her desk. The reversal was always her favorite part, “Now, that being said, the punishment must fit the crime.” Her smile was filled with fiendish glee as she pulled out a fresh bar of soap, still encased in its paper sleeve, and placed it on the desk before Riri.

Far from an unfamiliar sight, Riri had witnessed Ellie and Stacy with similar soap bars in their mouths on numerous occasions. Meanwhile, Skye and she had often enjoyed the spectacle that Stacy and Ellie made of themselves. Never once had she considered what it would be like for the shoe to be on the other foot. “D-Do I really…” she asked, her question petering off before she could finish as Latasha’s smug expression was all the answer she required. She reluctantly grabbed the small, rectangular block and began unwrapping, “The whole thing?”

“Yup!” said Latasha, pronouncing the “p” hard enough to make it pop. Part of her was aware she was being harder on Riri than she needed to be. However, after the brutally submissive night she’d been forced into, she was feeling a tad more sadistic than usual, “I’ll be sure to let you know when you can take it out.”

Whimpering dejectedly, Riri grimaced as her lips met the smooth, yet chalky texture of unmoistened soap. The scent wrinkled her nostrils while the taste burned the tip of her tongue, compelling her eyes to water. Not wanting to torture herself by drawing out the process, she closed her eyes and slid the bar into her mouth like a gluttonous kid inhaling a chocolate bar until the rim of the soap pressed against the back of her tongue. She gagged for a second before getting her reflexes under control.

Latasha struggled to refrain from giggling at the priceless way Riri reacted to her first genuine punishment within the walls of the Padded Palace. A Little cursing was no laughing matter, after all. Relishing the blushy display Riri was making of herself a few seconds longer, she knew she needed to keep the ball rolling if she wanted to speak with everyone before their Bigs returned. “I think that should cover everything. Be a dear and send in Ellie next,” she said, gesturing toward her office door with a crocodile grin.

As if Riri wasn’t already red enough, the prospect of exiting Latasha’s office with soap in her mouth only exacerbated her humiliation. She could practically hear the taunting jeers that Stacy and Ellie were certain the thrust upon her. “Canth I pway in da nuwsewy tiw Daddy ges hewe?” she asked on her way out the door, slyly aiming to gain as much distance from her nurserymates as possible so she could ride out her punishment free from vicious mockery. Additionally, she didn’t want to admit it but she had been bored out of her mind waiting in the living room with nothing to do. Try as she might to ignore it, her Little side was pining to play with the toys that were only a wall away.

“Um…I think I’d feel better if you go collect what you want to play with and bring it to the living room where I can see you,” compromised Latasha, too paranoid to let any of the girls out of her sight, at least until Connor finished showering. Speaking of, it suddenly occurred to her that she had yet to hear any water running whatsoever. She loved her Padded Palace to death but she knew these walls were too old to mask a running shower. Focusing her hearing upward, her eyes squinted with curiosity as she faintly made out what sounded like a repetitive squeak emanating from the ceiling.

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“I shouldn’t be doing this,” thought Connor as he slowly kneaded the front of his sodden nappy. Considering the conflict occurring just one floor beneath him, it was unconscionable to masturbate amid such a harrowing situation. He needed to shower, put on his big boy clothes, and get back downstairs to help Latasha as quickly as possible.

So…why was it suddenly so hard to stop? Of course, it was easy to blame the pleasure. The inside of his diaper would be too slippery and too plushy for anyone to handle, and his affinity for silky fabrics certainly wasn’t aiding in his resistance. But he knew those were only excuses. It wasn’t as if the Padded Palace was on the verge of running out of padding. Moreover, as good as it felt to rub himself, it was nowhere near as mind-bogglingly euphoric as the involuntary orgasms he experienced hours prior.

The cold, hard truth was that over the course of a single, lustful night, something had been awoken inside Connor; something that made it difficult to deny that a small piece of him got off on behaving in such a deviant manner. What if Skye or Stacy or Latasha were to walk in on him, or if his extended absence raised too many questions? Such grimly embarrassing thoughts should’ve halted his masturbatory session right then and there. Instead, they only amplified his perverse desires.

It wasn’t as though Connor wanted to be caught. He’d be mortified if even his confidant, Riri, barged in on him doing something so depraved. It was merely the threat of his erotic exploits being uncovered that drew him in like a bug to a zapper. Inadvisable? Probably. Dangerous? Most definitely. But infinitely tantalizing? So much so that nothing else mattered.

Wearing his shame prominently like a thorny crown, Connor mashed both fists into his bulbous diaper and let out a quivery wheeze, which was about as loud as he could get without alerting the entire Palace. Sadly, as good as it felt to mold the pulpy padding around his swollen shaft, the awkward position and lack of traction made it impossible to elevate his pleasure beyond sensual edging. He pined for the Magic Wand that Stacy and Ellie had used on him the previous evening.

Desperate to push himself over the final hurdle, Connor spent the next full minute nudging his cock around inside his diaper to find the most ideal rubbing position. It took some trial and error but he eventually managed to flip his penis upward so that the underside of his phallus was pressed against the squishy nappy. The position was slightly awkward, with his member resting diagonally along his left thigh; the direction he naturally leaned toward. Be that as it may, the results were more than fruitful regardless of the strange orientation.

“Oh, f-f-f-...” muttered Connor as he dug his dominant thumb and forefinger into the satin-draped, plastic outer casing of his diaper. Mashing his head into his poofy pillow and stretching his toes southward, he cupped his manhood fully and slowly ramped up his stroking velocity. He then snatched his cell phone from his bedside nightstand with his opposing hand, which had been charging for well over an hour by this point. Plenty of battery life to do some naughty browsing. Making good use of his new DeviantArt profile, he began scrolling through his curated feed to feast on the wealth of ABDL art and erotica at his fingertips. 

Connor had masturbated countless times before today. And yet, as he felt the pleasurable prickliness of an orgasm mounting at the base of his penis, he could already tell he was careening toward one of the most powerful climaxes he’d ever achieved on his own. His phone slipped from his fingers and thumped down onto his sternum, leaving the kinky drawing of a sissy being humiliated at an all-girl sleepover with make-up and hair curlers facing upward on his chest as he shot far beyond the point of no return.

Globs of jizz deposited into the hip of Connor’s diaper as his long, drawn-out ejaculation carried on seemingly with no conclusion in sight. His once extended toes now curled inward as a torrent of euphoria overtook his entire form. Letting his eyes roll back, he lay motionless and panted like a dog in heat. There was no denying his diaper fetish any longer. A mischievous smile appeared on his face as he allowed himself to float weightlessly amongst an endless sea of ABDL bliss. His shower could wait.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Edited by AllySmolShork

Special Thanks to Our CrissBaby Diaper Company Investors: BlushyBen DD JFN Nike PrincessKittenLizzi SissyDina Strawberry Sweetsamantharebecca & One Anonymous Investor

[sweetnsour1]

I’m sorry I’ve been in this domestic mood today, this is my last one I promise 😭

Wearing Katsuki’s cologne because you wanna smell like him 👀 whenever I go out by myself or even to the gym, I’ll spritz some of my husband’s cologne on and go about my day. (1) it smells amaaazing (2) keeps me not missing him throughout the day (3) people know I have a mans, stay away from me pls 🙅🏻‍♀️

Thanks for the ask, bubs 🖤🖤🖤

Mmmmm I love sniffable men. I always hesitate to give him a specific scent in my writing because I want everyone to imagine whatever their favorite is. BUT Katsuki smells amazing…with a scent that sometimes leaves you stumbling after him.

However…

He hates when you smell like him. Goes fucking feral about it because he’s actually obsessed with the way you smell.

Pitches a full on fit if you had the audacity to spritz his cologne, or use his deodorant, or his body wash.

He knows you love his scent, so he threatens to switch all his shit to unscented to keep your fuckin’ thief hands off his shit.

When that’s all settled and you smell like you again…He’s happier nuzzling against that sweet spot on your neck he loves so much. He’s giving tighter hugs. He’s thanking you for caving and although you whined A LOT…you weren’t a complete brat about it. How could you be when he’s acting so grateful that his olfactory world is back in order?

But the thing is…

When he goes out of town for the first time after his won argument…he sleeps at your place the night before his trip. He’s organized as fuck, so his shits all packed, his keys have been given to Kirishima and Todoroki for emergencies and pet sitting. You already have a key, already plan on taking care of everything, but he still asks his friends instead, claiming it’s because “the idiots owe him”.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to set a precedent of making you feel used every time he leaves. At least that’s what he tells himself. He’s starting to realize you would never feel that way, but it still gnaws at the stubbornly independent nature he’s never been able to curb entirely.

The morning he leaves, he doesn’t wake you. His flight is early and although you tried to make him promise to shake you awake if he had to…you knew he wouldn’t. His movements were nearly silent, his steps light, the touch of his lips so soft that there was zero chance it would pull you from sleep.

So, you woke up to a colder bed than you preferred. You groaned curses into your pillow, wishing you’d been born with an affinity for the a.m. because fuck that would’ve been useful.

When you finally make your way to the bathroom to wash the annoyance from your features, you’re surprised to see a basket you don’t recognize. A stupid grin covers your face as you look through the stash of miniature toiletries he’s left behind for you…the cologne he doesn’t wear often, his deodorant, his lotion, his body wash, his shampoo, his conditioner, his face wash, his sunscreen, his toothpaste, and even his favorite cinnamon gum.

Later you find the card buried beneath them…

Enjoy, you fuckin’ brat.

🖤K

Make sure you smell like you when I get back home.

[rainnybear]

Sick Leonardo

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Heyy so I'm currently sick so I decided to self project on a turtle I kin, it's not much and I wish I had something better for my first fanfic on here but I got nothing else sooo enjoy?

Ao3 // Wattpad

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The lair was quiet as everyone was asleep, everyone resting in their own rooms other than Donatello who fell asleep in his lab and Splinter who had fallen asleep in the living room. The silence was quickly broken as coughing echoed throughout the lair, waking up the turtle next door to the source of the coughing. Raphael rubbed his eyes and flipped onto his side, waiting for the sound of the coughing to stop but instead it turned into a coughing fit. The snapping turtle turned in his bed and pushed himself onto his feet, making his way out of his room, stopping to listen. The coughing was silent for a moment before it started again as he turned to Leonardo’s room, realising where it had been coming from. Raphael entered his brother’s room and saw him sitting up, coughing his lungs out. “Are you okay?” He stepped closer to his brother who was wearing blue pyjamas. He put a thumbs up as he continued coughing. “Here I’ll go get you some water.” Raphael rubbed his head making him realise he fell asleep in his mask, Leo nodded as Raph turned to leave. Leo waited impatiently as his coughing grew louder. It was not long before the red turtle returned, having two cups in his hand, one a normal glass and the other a medicine cup. 

“Take this first, it’s nightquil.” 

“Ew no that stuff’s nasty!” 

“But it’ll help you.”

The blue turtle hesitantly grabbed the small medicine cup and drank it quickly, before making a disgusted face and grabbing the other, larger cup of water from Raph’s hand and chugging it. 

“Hey, you may wanna save some in case you need some throughout the night.”

“If I need more, I’ll just go grab some more, the way things are looking, I’m not gonna get much sleep tonight either way..”

“Well the medicine should make you tired soon enough. Just don’t resist it or you’ll be awake the whole night.”

Leo let out another single cough then gave Raph another thumbs up. “You okay if I go back to my room, buddy?” Leo nodded as Raph took his leave. As Raphael entered his room he tugged off his mask before dropping it on the bedside table as he plopped into his bed.

——————————————————————————————————

The next morning, all the turtles sat in the living room as Jupiter Jim played on the TV, Mikey was working on a drawing, Donnie was doing something on his wrist tech, Raph and Splinter were watching the TV and Leo was…”Where’s blue?” Splinter was the one to speak for the first time in about 30 minutes. “I think he’s still asleep?” Donnie responded, not taking his focus off the glowing screen. “Shouldn’t he be awake by now?” Splinter asked as Mikey looked over at Donnie’s tech and pressed on something. “Hey!” Donnie looked at Mikey. “It’s 11AM so probably!” Mikey spoke a little bit too loud as Donnie pushed his face away. 

“He was having trouble sleeping last night, I believe he’s sick, maybe we should just let him rest.” Raph turned to look at Splinter. “Ohhh so that’s why I heard you in Leo’s room last night, yeah he was coughing a lot last night.” Mikey recalled, he had woken up last night from the coughing as well but he decided to stay in bed assuming that it was gonna pass over. “I didn’t hear anything.” Donnie shrugged. “Well you also weren’t sleeping in the rooms beside his.” Raph glared at Donnie as he went back to doing something with his wrist tech. Leo then entered the room, looking exhausted. “Ah, there he is.” Splinter said, being the first to notice Leo’s presence. “Good morning, Leo!” Mikey ran over to Leo and hugged him. “I wouldn’t do that if he’s sick, Angelo.” Leo and Mikey ignored Donnie’s input as Leo hugged Mikey tight. Leo always tends to get more cuddly and whiny when sick so it was no shock to Mikey when he didn’t want to let go of him. 

“It’s probably just a cold, it’ll be finee!” Mikey said happily. “Leo’s already a drama queen when sick, we don’t need you both sick!” Donatello argued. “Am not a drama queen! I just feel like shit!” Leo took a seat. “Is that Jupiter Jim? Hell yeah!” 

“There’s some popsicles in the freezer for you if you need, got you your favourite.” 

“Thanks Raph!” “Hey, why didn’t you tell me you got popsicles?! I want one!” Mikey asked, looking offended.

“Because Leo’s sick and you’re not!” “So Leo gets special privileges?!” “Popscicles help his throat!” 

Leo laughed. “You can enjoy your drawing, Mikey, I’m gonna go have some popsicles!” Leo teased, in all honesty, Leo didn’t really want a popsicle right now, he hadn’t even eaten breakfast, he was just hungry and didn’t want to make anything and wanted to rub the fact he had popsicles in Mikey’s face, though that just called for a heist later on. 

[dcbbw]

Tuesday Teasers

Well, I missed Sunday Six and no telling if I’ll manage a WIP Wednesday, so settling for Tuesday Teasers. I am looking forward to returning to these stories, my HYAW story, and finishing the Platinum AU update.

Baby steps.

For now, I have snippets from two stories no one asked for to share with you all. Portion sizes are larger since there are only two of them, and also I feel I haven’t shared/posted in forever.

As usual, all work is in a state of rough draft, and (eventually) published work may differ.

Please note, Sins of the Father contains mature themes, and the snippet may not be suitable for all readers.

Sins of the Father (Choices crossover: TRR/TRH; PM; VoS):

The priest turned his rolling desk chair so he was facing the girl, his eyes taking in her appearance: onyx-colored hair pushed away from her pale face with a headband; pansy-blue eyes that were now filled with fear and unshed tears. Full, pink-glossed lips that made his cock jump with anticipation. Her school uniform fit her trim physique like a glove; he paid especial attention to the way her budding breasts pushed against the starched cotton of her shirt.  

He shouldn’t be doing this; this new generation of parents weren’t like previous ones. They didn’t know how to respect the Church or keep their mouths shut. Recently the school, and indeed the Church had been slammed with numerous lawsuits, all stemming from sexual misconduct at the hands of the priest, Father Joseph, or Poppa Joe as he was known throughout the community.  

The Father wasn’t worried about losing his job. He was too well-connected in the city to people on both sides of the law. Over the decades he had held his position at the St. Joan of Arc’s Academies and Rectory, he had been reprimanded by his Cardinal, but never too severely.  

There were no marks or bruises to show the children had been beaten.  

The schools held 100% graduation rates, with children under his tutelage scoring highest in statewide testing.  

His church brought in the most money and did the most for donations towards the underserved in the community.  

The priest had helped build the neighborhood, encouraging and inviting 

No, Father Joseph would not be leaving the Arc, as the neighborhood was known, anytime soon.  

Besides, this was Emmeline’s daughter. Emme understood the importance of obedience to God’s servants; surely, she had passed this down to her daughter.  

“Penelope,” he spoke softly, almost pleasantly.  

The girl, whose eyes had been transfixed on his white clerical collar, looked up in trepidation. The priest’s clean-shaven face was kindly with twinkling pale blue eyes covered by rimless glasses; his lips held a ready smile. There were some slight wrinkles lining his face, but he looked far younger than his 60+ years. His hair, brown with some gray sprinkled in, was neatly combed with a side part.  

“We don’t have much time, dear. Lift your skirt for me.” 

Penelope shook her head. “I don’t want to, Father,” she whispered through a sob.  

The priest stared at her for a moment before opening a desk drawer, removing a thick wooden ruler. Without a word, the metal-edged stick slapped her across her cheek. With a yelp of pain, Penelope’s palm flew to cover the now-reddened skin.  

“Don’t make me ask again.” Father Joseph tapped the ruler threateningly against his palm. “Lift. Your. Skirt.”  

 Eat. Pray. Love.

A pajama-clad Liam stood at the rain-splattered window, looking down at the deserted street below.  The New Moon illuminated wet pavement, streaks of cream-colored lighting glistening beneath him.  The world was silent, as it usually was this time of morning, right before night reluctantly gave way to day and slumber navigated its way to wakefulness.  

He wondered how many 4am’s he’d seen so far in his lifetime.  

Too many.  

Some, like this one, were silent; only him, his thoughts, and the darkness.  

Others had been filled with the furtive, the clandestine: Liam had seen hookers giving blowjobs in alleys; businessmen buying drugs; rats burrowing into garbage bins.  

Still others had been filled with alcohol fueled passion: People clinging to their last call from some bar, desperately clutching and pawing and kissing while hoping this person would be the one.  

He had witnessed all of this and more. All from the safety of rooms: his chambers, a Presidential suite, or a penthouse.  

He was always an observer. Even in his own life.  

Liam stood, watching nonplussed as the love of his life methodically packed her belongings.  

“What … what are you doing?” he demanded in a dumbfounded tone.  

Riley Brooks glanced over at him before placing folded pants and skirts into the open suitcase sitting on her bed.  

“We’ve discussed this Liam. I am no longer staying in this … deathtrap!” 

“You have been defended and protected at every turn, Riley! That will always continue!” 

Riley exhaled a loud sigh before turning to fully face her former fiancé.  

“Liam, you don’t get it … or maybe you’re used to it. But ever since Applewood, things have gone from dreams-come-true to a nightmare I may never wake up from.  

“First, Tariq … which I really don’t give two fucks about because I know what I did and didn’t do. But to discover your own FATHER put that plan in motion, and we’re helpless to do anything about it?  

“The orchards were BURNED TO THE GROUND by SoE!  

“ASSASINS! Your father got killed! DRAKE WAS SHOT by a bullet meant for ME! 

“And I’m supposed to be okay not just being associated with the target of all this, but to agree to put a target on my back as well?” 

She turned back to the suitcase. “I cannot and will not do that.” 

Liam bit his lip in an attempt to hold back tears. “I LOVE YOU, Riley! I would die for you!” he croaked. 

“I’d rather you live for me,” she whispered in reply. 

She reached for a small white cardboard box before facing Liam again. “Here, this is for you.” 

Liam stared at the box in his palm. “What is it?” 

“Your pearl, your ring, and the necklace your father gave me.” 

Liam’s eyes were wide as he wildly shook his head. “NO! These are for YOU!”  

He attempted to return the jewelry, but Riley grasped his wrist with one hand, and pushed his fingers closed over the box with the other.  

Riley’s voice cracked slightly as she spoke. “No, not me, Liam. They’re for the woman you’re going to marry.” 

His head lifted when he felt a palm press gently against his arm.  A smile formed on his lips as he gazed at his wife, her face puffy with sleep, and eyes filled with concern and uncertainty. Even now, she still worried that he regretted his decision.  

He did not.  

“Hey,” she whispered, “why are you awake so early?” 

He leaned in, snatching a kiss from her lips. “Just thinking.” 

Her palm slid down the sleeve of his pajama top to take his hand in hers. “Come back to bed?” 

His eyes slid slowly down her body, tempting curves hidden beneath silk fabric. “Excellent suggestion,” he replied as he followed her back to their bedroom.  

Tagging:  @jared2612​ @ao719​ @burnsoslow​ @marietrinmimi​ @merridithsmiscellany-blog​ @queenjilian​ @indiacater​ @kingliam2019​ @bebepac​ @liamxs-world​ @mom2000aggie​ @cmestrella​ @liamrhysstalker2020​  @neotericthemis​ @twinkleallnight​ @umccall71​ @superharriet​  @busywoman​ @gabesmommie1130​ @tessa-liam​ @phoenixrising0308​ @beezm​ @gardeningourmet​ @lovingchoices14​ @foreverethereal123​ @mainstreetreader​ @angelasscribbles​ @lady-calypso​ @emkay512​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @21-wishes​ @princessleac1​ @charlotteg234​ @queenrileyrose​ @alj4890​ @yourfavaquarius111​ @motorcitymademadame​ @bbrandy2002​ @eversoaringqueen12​ @queenmiarys​

[autumnalwalker]

Find The Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @druidx.

My words to find were courage, communication (or comms), consequence, & community.

Passing the tag to @elshells, @dragonedged-if, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @kaiusvnoir, and an open tag for whomever.

Your words shall be dream, alteration, soon, & up.

Courage: Empty Names side story - There Are No Dogs At The Dog Park

Sarah peeks out of her room, still disoriented in spite of Gita telling her what to expect yesterday.  It’s one thing to be told that you’re going to black out and wake up in an unfamiliar room, but it’s a whole other bea- a whole other thing to actually have it happen.  At least there had been a shower at hand and all her clothes on a hanger.  

She’d been afraid to look in the mirror at first but once she’d worked up the courage to do so she found she was still her.  Maybe tired despite sleeping past noon and disheveled with a few light scrapes and bruises, but otherwise none the worse for the wear.  Easy enough to believe the hazy memories of last night really had been a dream.

Communication: Empty Names - 12 - Houseguests

The process of Jero gliding xyr hands with proportionally too-long fingers over each chrysalis to cause it to contract into a humanoid shape, working in the details of a unique individual’s features, and then turning the skin-like outer shell inside out to reveal the real skin and eyes and hair and mouth and other such outward-facing anatomy expected of a person takes several minutes apiece.  Grotesque as Ashan finds the last step to watch, he cannot help but notice that for all her earlier apparent squeamishness during yesterday’s mission Lacuna’s expression is never anything less than fascinated.  While he has no idea what sort of mental notes she might be taking, Ashan’s own analysis is frustratingly elusive.  As obvious as it is that there is something magical happening, he detects nary a trace of transmutation or necromancy, or even any other of the less likely major disciplines he is aware of.  Only a tenuous mental connection that should barely be enough for communication, much less physical alterations.

Consequence: Empty Names - 11 - Afterparty

“I notice you didn’t mention Eris,” his friend says after a few bites of their own meal.

“Muscles?  What’s there to say?  Every team needs its resident brute and she fits the role.  Big, simple, strong, durable, and resorts to physical force at every opportunity without thinking the consequences through.  But, as they say, ‘when all you have is a hammer…’” He traces a ring around the apple’s stem with a finger and then rips out the core with one tug.  “It’s cute though how protective she gets of the techie,” he continues as he tosses the de-cored ring of fruit to his friend.  “Pound of gold says the two of them are sleeping together by the end of the year if they’re not already.  Muscles will probably be obsolete once the other two come into their own, but she’s a good shield until then and - as we’ve seen - putting her in danger’s a good way to motivate the techie.  Not that you would ever do that intentionally of course.”

His friend pauses, apple halfway to their mouth, and gives him a flat look.

“And not that I would either, don’t worry,” he assures them while lazily swinging the apple core by its stem.  “Besides, it’s not like I’ll be going into the field with them again anytime soon.”

Community: The Archivist's Journal, Day 277

Beyond the interactions with the family, just being out and about in the Village and taking part in the communal preparations turned out to be as much a mental balm as a visit to the overlook would have been.  I’ve said before that I’m not really sure how to be a part of a community, and I’m still not, but I think this might have been a step in that direction.  I had a moment where it suddenly registered that most of the people I found myself talking to or even just passing by throughout the day I found familiar despite not interacting with them directly on a regular basis.  Some of them, I even remembered their names.  That probably doesn’t sound like much, but for me… well… the moment passed when Cass asked me why I had suddenly stopped and seemed to be tearing up.

[maybeimamuppet]

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

The next week is a strange one. Janis wakes up alone every morning and falls asleep alone every night. Cady is with her throughout the day, but not… with her. 

Janis feels foolish for thinking something had changed between them. Cady’s just back to her businesswoman self. Every time she looks at Janis, it’s with a faraway look in her eye. 

It bothers Janis more than she cares to admit. 

But this is how it’s supposed to go. She’s not supposed to get attached. Cady clearly hasn’t. The expectations are the same. Janis will be leaving by the end of next week. Never to… never to see Cady again. 

Janis is startled out of her thoughts by Cady barging into the room in a frenzy, yelling at some poor soul on the other end of the line. Janis winces for the poor microphone in Cady’s phone. 

“Rawlings, I can’t deal with this at the moment. I have to go,” she huffs. “Enjoy the holiday. Yes, I’ll call you again before the New Year. Now, goodbye.” 

Janis sits up in bed, trying to act like she’s just woken up and hasn’t been chasing her own mind in circles for hours. “Good morning.”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Morning. Get ready, we have to go into town today.”

“Why?” 

“To pick up our outfits for the party this evening,” Cady says. “My mother wants us to go in person to make sure it all fits correctly. And it’ll be good for the press to see us together again one last time.” 

Last time. One last time. 

“Oh. Okay,” Janis replies softly. “I’ll, uh… get dressed. And stuff.” 

“We’re expected by ten,” Cady says, walking back out of the room and shutting the door behind her without so much as a backwards glance. Janis nods and hauls herself up, wondering distantly if she shouldn’t be keeping some sort of countdown now. 

Or maybe she should’ve from the start. 

—-

“Are you sure this isn’t too casual? I thought your mother’s parties are always some spectacular occasion,” Janis says. She loves the outfit, but… “Just, are you sure?” 

“You look fine. Perfectly Christmassy, that’s all anyone’ll care about,” Cady says, not even glancing up from her laptop. 

Janis shrugs and looks at herself in the mirror again. She does look quite dapper in her velvet forest green ensemble. The slacks are tight around her hips, not enough to be uncomfortable, but just enough to flatter her figure, and flare out slightly near her ankles. The tiniest strip of skin shows between it and the matching top, with short sleeves that puff out around her shoulders. She’s also more into the silver sequins speckled tastefully over the whole thing than she thought she would be. 

“If you’re sure,” she replies. She gets ushered over to try on her shoes while Cady gets her own fitting finished. Apparently hers is much faster than Janis’ was, because she’s already back out of her dress by the time Janis has chosen a suitable pair of heels. They’re quite high, which is concerning, but she’s honestly more upset that she has to wait to see Cady in her outfit. 

“Would you like to get coffee?” Cady asks as she packs up her things and reaches for her. Their driver takes the boxes of their garments and shoes and things to carry to the car ahead of them. 

“Sure,” Janis replies, carefully taking and carrying Cady’s bag for her. 

She takes Cady’s hand before they leave the tailor’s shop. She’s learned enough in her three weeks to immediately notice the paparazzi across the street. 

“Do you come here often?” she asks softly. “Not, like… in a weird way, but for clothes and stuff?”

“I used to,” Cady says. “When I was young and growing they’d send me here to make my clothes last as long as they could. Now it’s a pretty even split between wearing stuff designed for me, or designer brands, or just stuff Regina designs and gives me the reject samples for Tad to fix up.”

“That’s cool,” Janis says with a small nod. Cady nods back and leads them to the coffee shop a bit down the street; another branch of the same one Janis works at. “Oh, this is weird.”

“Why?” Cady asks, looking at her oddly. 

“I dunno, it feels like time traveling or something,” Janis says. Cady tilts her head like a confused puppy. “Like, being somewhere you know in a place you don’t. All the café’s look the same, but I’ve never been here before. It’s weird.” 

Cady blinks at her. “Alrighty then.” 

Janis sighs a bit and tries not to let her embarrassment show. A week ago Cady might’ve laughed at that; maybe she even would’ve agreed with her. But now she’s staring ahead at the faux-rustic chalkboard menu and trying to decide what she wants while Janis hides awkwardly behind her. 

The amount of people staring at them isn’t helping. Janis finds herself wishing she really could time travel just to get out of here right now. Or at least a sinkhole. That would do nicely, too. 

She jumps a bit when she hears Cady’s voice and realizes they’re at the front of the line. She’s proud of Cady, in a weird way. When Janis first met her she probably wouldn’t have bothered with waiting in line. 

She still orders some absurdly complicated chai latte thing that has Janis mouthing an empathetic apology to the barista behind her, but progress is progress. She can only hope it lasts once… once she leaves. 

Janis decides to save the poor overworked employees any further strife and settles for a large black coffee. By the sounds of things, she’ll need the energy for tonight. 

She lets Cady pay for both drinks, but she takes both to carry them where she wants them to sit. Which is outside. 

“It’s cold out here,” Cady complains. 

“But it’s crowded in there,” Janis replies. “You have your tea, it’ll keep you warm.” 

Cady pouts the slightest bit as she takes her cup and brushes some snow off the bench. Janis does the same and sits down.

“This umbrella doesn’t really do much against snow, I guess,” she says, looking up at the underside of the dark blue picnic umbrella. 

“You can say that again,” Cady huffs as she plops down next to her. “I’ll have to let my father know.”

“You do that.” 

Beyond that they don’t say anything. Cady doesn’t seem to have much to say to her anymore. Janis doesn’t know if she’s done something wrong; how to fix this. And she doesn’t know what to say. 

So they have their drinks in silence. It is freezing, but with just the two of them it’s almost peaceful. 

Or it would be, if this were a typical situation. Janis jumps when Cady leans in and kisses just beneath her ear. “Camera.”

Janis leans against her, presses her lips to the top of her head. “Where?”

“Thirty feed ahead and across the street behind us,” Cady whispers. Janis nods and takes her hand instead of leaning their heads together. Cady looks at her oddly for a moment before she seems to go with it, shifting their hands to the table so they’re visible. 

Janis drinks her coffee and Cady drinks her tea. They’re back to silence, other than the quiet slurping they’re forced to do with the stupid sippy cup lids on the to-go cups they have. They give each other the occasional glance or kiss or squeeze. Just enough for the cameras. 

“They’re gone,” Cady whispers after about ten minutes. The words are barely out of her mouth before she’s pulling her hand out of Janis’. 

Janis sighs the slightest bit. Good.

——————

Janis is expecting to have a little bit of time to relax before she’s supposed to have to start getting ready for the gala that evening, but she and Cady are both ambushed practically the second they enter the house. 

It feels like a scene from a cartoon, when a character enters a cloud of dust and makeup and beauty products and leaves looking like a whole new person. In actuality the process takes several hours. 

Janis knows it’s supposed to be relaxing; being primped and prepped and primed. She even gets a full body massage, but if anything, it just makes her more tense. It’s relaxing enough to completely wipe her mind of everything…

Everything except Cady. What she’s worried about the most. 

She knew this was going to happen. She knew that this wasn’t real the whole time. Anything Janis felt between them couldn’t have possibly been real. 

No matter how real it may have felt. 

Janis felt Cady change. Felt them grow closer, felt Cady become kinder, warmer, better; even as amazing as she was before. 

And now she’s feeling Cady pull back. Feeling her walls building even higher and thicker and stronger than they were before. Every little chisel Janis made against them has been patched over. Every yank she’s gotten against the chains Cady carries has been undone. 

She knew this wouldn’t end with them together. But Janis was at least hoping it would end with the both of them having grown a bit. Having changed. 

Maybe she’s as naive as Damian says. 

She tries to let the royal treatment relax her as she gets lotion massaged into her arms and legs and her hair straightened and then curled and makeup coated onto her face. 

She doesn’t even have to dress herself, really. She handles her undergarments herself. They really put the measurements she filled out in all that paperwork to good use. She’s never had a bra fit her this well. 

She steps back out into the main room and practically into her outfit. She makes a distant comment about how soft the velvet is and laughs under her breath at one of the ladies dressing her replying, “That’s because this is real velvet, dear.” 

Before she knows it she’s shoved in front of a full body mirror to see herself. “Wow.”

Her hair falls in loose, dark waves around her shoulders; the front pieces braided in a sort of crown behind her head. With as much as she has on, her makeup looks remarkably natural. Her skin looks even and blush makes her look healthy. It’s much more feminine than she usually chooses to go with her makeup, but she looks… nice. 

The outfit is flattering, too. Her legs look fantastic, if she does say so herself, and the dark, emerald green color compliments her pale skin and dark hair. 

“Miss Heron should be just about ready,” one of the women says. “It’s up to you where you’d like to wait for her.” 

“I’ll go wherever she wants me,” Janis replies with a shy grin. 

“I’m sure she’ll want to be with you,” the woman replies with a wink. Janis gives a weak chuckle and follows after her to where Cady’s getting ready. I wouldn’t be so sure about that. 

Cady’s on the phone with someone yet again when they walk in. The woman leaves Janis with a small bow. Janis nods back and looks around. Where is she supposed to be? 

“Such idiocy,” Cady tuts under her breath as she hangs up the phone. Whatever they were discussing is clearly weighing on her. Cady must’ve gotten the same treatment Janis did, if not better, but Janis doesn’t think she’s ever seen her so tense. 

One of Cady’s stylists rushes up with a tiny brush to swipe some unnecessary thing over her eyes, and then Cady stands and turns around. And Janis promptly chokes on her own lesbianism. Holy shit. 

Saying Cady’s in a dress feels like an understatement. It’s nothing short of a gown; white and patterned with red poinsettias. It flows elegantly down her body and pools around her feet just so. A slit goes up past her knees and the neckline dips teasingly into her cleavage. Her arms are bare apart from a few elegant gold and diamond bracelets and the short sleeves hanging just off her shoulders. 

“Wow,” Janis whispers. 

“You look wonderful, baby,” Cady says, approaching for a very very careful kiss so she doesn’t smudge their makeup. Janis is confused until she remembers that all the makeup and hair stylists and the people who got them dressed think this is real. 

God, Janis wishes it could be.

“You too,” Janis whispers, gently stroking a hand through Cady’s auburn hair, slicked back to rest over her left shoulder. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“You are too,” Cady replies softly. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Janis sighs with a tired smile. She offers an elbow that Cady takes with a smile. Janis grins back and heads towards the elevator. 

Cady pulls off like Janis is on fire as soon as the doors ding shut. Janis tries to hide her hurt and leans against the back wall. 

“What is this gonna be like?” she asks. Cady put a vague description in the book, but Janis felt that studying her family members should take priority. After the chaos of the last few weeks, it’s kind of slipped her mind. 

“Oh, you know,” Cady sighs. Janis is expecting her to elaborate, but Cady doesn’t. 

“…No, I don’t,” Janis says gently. “I’m a peasant in your royal presence, remember?”

“I am not a princess,” Cady huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Whatever you say,” Janis says. “Princess.” 

Cady humphs again. “It’ll be… around a hundred guests. Business partners of my father and those descended from partners of my grandfather. Plus a few closer friends. And most of my extended family. Grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. In the parlor, which you’ve seen. All you’ll have to do is shake hands so much your skin will get raw and say a few hellos. Oh, but the food is… revolting until the actual dinner. Don’t eat any hors d’oeuvres, just… trust me.” 

“Okay,” Janis chuckles. They both take a deep breath as the doors slide open again. Cady takes Janis’ arm again as they step out.

“You ready?”

“Not in the slightest,” Janis whispers back. Cady nods and starts walking them towards the foyer. 

Luckily, they’re not the last ones there. Doubly lucky, they aren’t the first, either. Clifton and his family along with Clark are already there. Cady leads Janis to their proper place, right at the very end of the lineup. In order of their birth, partners to their right followed by any children, against the wall. 

Callum, Charles and Chester make their way down and get into their places. Cady’s mother gives a nod to the butlers and maids standing opposite them, and the large doors open. 

The air outside is freezing. It has nothing on the atmosphere inside, but Cady leans the slightest bit closer into Janis. For warmth. Just that. 

They say their welcomes as the guests come in, shaking a few hands as people hand their coats and hats to the maids and head into the main ball. Cady inhales sharply and presses even closer to Janis.

“You okay?” 

“My grandmother just walked in,” Cady whispers. “Brace yourself.” 

Janis does, standing up straight and puffing out her chest a little. The mentioned grandparents make their way down the line of brothers in order. Which leaves Janis and Cady plenty of time to stew in their anxiety and wait to see what they have to say. 

“Cadence,” Cady’s grandmother greets. 

“Hello, grandmother,” Cady says. Janis knows her well enough by now to know she’s forcing eye contact against her own will. Janis does the same. Everything in her is cowering under the powerful gaze of this woman, but she gets the feeling that physically doing that wouldn’t go over very well. So she stands her ground. “Welcome.”

“You’re still short.”

“Yes, grandmother,” Cady says meekly. “I’m not going to grow anymore.” 

“Not with that attitude,” the woman replies. “Hm.”

She turns her nose up and turns to look at Janis. Janis is already shaking in her high heels, and this doesn’t help. She’s not sure whether to speak or not. What’s the worst that could happen? 

“Uh… hello,” she says politely. 

“Mm,” the woman hums. “You’re new.”

“My girlfriend, grandmother,” Cady says carefully. 

“I can see that perfectly well, Cadence,” her grandmother replies. “Why?”

“W-why?”

“Basic eyes, stringy hair, working hands, peasant teeth, pallid skin, uncomfortably tall, slightly overweight, masculine shoulders, small ears,” the woman says, listing off every flaw Janis can pack in from head to toe. “Heavens, child, what were you thinking?” 

Cady doesn’t respond. Janis doesn’t blame her. There’s not really anything she can say, anyway. 

“Nice to meet you as well,” Janis says politely. The woman gives a snooty little ‘hm’ and struts her way off to the gala. “Holy shit.”

“I’m so sorry,” Cady says. “I did tell you to avoid her.”

“Is she always like that?”

“Always,” Cady nods. “She’s my father’s mother, but I’m convinced she taught my mother everything she knows. I’d like to say she’s just senile, but she’s been like that forever.” 

“She’s… protective,” Janis shrugs. “But lord. If I didn’t have self confidence issues already.”

“She does have a tendency to do that,” Cady says apologetically. “Always ‘don’t slouch, Cadence, it makes you look like a partridge’. As if I’m not only slouching so she won’t see me!”

“She said it made you look like a partridge? Like, in a pear tree?” Janis chuckles.

“Like in a pear tree! Apparently they’re… chubby. It made me look overweight,” Cady says airily, shaking her head in exasperation. “I think I was about four the first time. Still had baby fat.” 

“Jesus,” Janis says. “That’s… damaging.” 

“See where Chester gets it from?” 

“Definitely,” Janis agrees. 

They welcome the last few stragglers before they head through the large doors into the parlor. Janis looks around in awe. 

It’s been completely transformed. A Christmas tree that’s easily twenty-five feet tall at the smallest stands against the far wall, with a four piece orchestra playing and singing Christmas carols just beneath it. White lights hang from the ceiling and the wraparound balcony overlooking the room. They twinkle in a pattern, giving the illusion that it’s snowing indoors. 

Beyond that, it’s the typical wreaths and holly and ivy and tasteful tinsel that adorn the rest of the mansion. Janis understands why Betsy Heron is so famous for her parties. 

“Wow,” she whispers. 

“Impressed?”

“Beyond that.”

“Good.” 

Cady leads her around to make introductions to some important people. Janis loses count of how many hands she shakes. She can tell that absolutely none of them like her, but she tries not to let it phase her. 

“Escargot pâté, miss?” a butler asks, brandishing a tray next to her. Cady said not to eat any of the hors d’oeuvres, and she gives her a warning look. Janis doesn’t want to be rude and takes one anyway. 

It’s quite possibly the most vile thing she’s ever put in her mouth. She waits until the server leaves before she spits it into her hand and pulls a face. “God, what is that?”

“Snail paste,” Cady says. Janis has to actively stifle a gag. “I did warn you.”

“You did,” Janis acknowledges, wiping her hand over her mouth in a ditch attempt to get rid of the acrid taste. 

“Right. Well, enjoy yourself,” Cady says suddenly.

“What, wait, where are you going?” Janis asks. 

“Business never rests,” Cady responds. “I’ll find you in a while.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, Janis, look around, find something,” Cady says in exasperation. Janis feels her face fall and she nods. Cady walks off to find some businessperson to speak with, leaving Janis standing aimlessly alone in a crowd of hundreds. Of strangers. Rich strangers, nonetheless. 

She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to risk speaking to anyone without Cady’s guidance. And she knows now that none of the snacks are to be trusted. She could dance, but the kind of music being played is better suited to dancing with a partner than alone. Doing it herself would just be awkward. 

She spies a set of stairs behind a door one of the servants goes through, and decides to see where they lead. She waits for someone else to come through before she ducks around the corner and sneaks up the short flight. 

She comes out on the next level up; the balcony level overlooking the room as a whole. It’s arguably more beautiful from up here. 

She can see the whole room. Fiona, Lennox, Hayes and Henry are all dancing and creating quite a hazard on the dance floor. The boys all have matching suits on, with ties the same pattern as Fiona’s dress. 

Cady’s brothers and their partners are all scattered around chatting, along with her parents and grandparents. Janis watches Cady herself for a while. She’s really in her element when she’s making business discussions. Janis can’t hear what she’s saying, but she knows she’s absolutely tearing the men she’s speaking to to shreds. 

“She’s a businesswoman through and through,” a voice says. Janis jumps and whirls around. “Good at it, too.” 

“Mrs. Heron,” Janis says. Cady’s grandmother. One of the last people Janis was expecting to (or wanted to) see. 

“My name is Jane,” she says. She seems much more… human, up here. Her age is showing as she hobbles her way over to the wall and leans against it next to Janis. “Her middle name. After me.”

“Cady Jane,” Janis says softly. 

“Why are you with her?” Jane asks harshly. “You after her money?”

“No! No, of course not,” Janis says. Yes, definitely. “This is the first I’ve… gotten to see her world. I didn’t even know who she really was when we first met.” 

“You didn’t recognize the heiress of one of the most famous families in America?”

“No, I didn’t,” Janis says honestly. “I never followed that stuff in the media, it never… interested me, I guess. And she obviously didn’t tell me right away. Looking back, some stuff should’ve clicked as weird, but I thought she was just a little paranoid.”

“They squandered her,” Jane says tightly. “Kept her locked away for years. Poor child never had a chance at a normal life.”

“Do you think she’d be the way she is if she had gotten a normal childhood?”

“I can’t say,” Jane replies. She seems almost sad as she looks at her granddaughter. “She’s definitely a redhead.”

“She said you are too,” Janis says softly. 

“That I was,” Jane chuckles. “She’ll turn out alright in spite of what my idiot son has done to her.”

“She’s amazing,” Janis agrees. 

“You won’t last.”

“I- excuse me?” Janis stutters. 

“You’re clearly uncomfortable,” Jane says. “And Cady did not say a word in your defense when I met you in the foyer. She’s incapable of genuine love.” 

“Excuse me?” Janis repeats incredulously. “With all due respect, ma’am, she is. The things she does for me in private tell me plenty about her capability to love. I’m uncomfortable because this is an entirely new universe for me and I have yet to adjust to it. She didn’t say anything because she’s scared of you. She doesn’t want to upset you.”

Jane hums pensively as she considers this. “I see what she saw in you.” 

“Thank you,” Janis replies. “I think.”

“Heaven knows what you see in her.”

“So much, ma’am,” Janis says softly. “I see so much.” 

Another hum. “I’ll get out of your hair. Lovely speaking with you.” 

“You as well,” Janis says. A blatant lie, but… meh. 

“You’re brave,” another voice says suddenly, approaching from her other side. Janis about jumps out of her skin and turns around again. 

“Jesus, Lana,” she breathes, resting a hand over her pounding heart. 

“Sorry,” the young girl says. “Nobody’s ever told great grandmother off like that.”

“I didn’t tell her off,” Janis replies. “Just… told her how things are.”

Lana raises an eyebrow at her. “Where’s Auntie Cady?” 

“Down there,” Janis sighs, motioning vaguely beneath them. “Somewhere. Now, why are you up here?”

“Same as you, I’d imagine,” Lana says. “I hate these events. I follow Father around long enough to make him happy and then run away.”

“What do you do up here?” Janis asks. “I’m already bored.”

Lana gets a mischievous smile on her face and motions her over with a finger. Janis frowns in confusion and heads to a corner of the room, completely out of sight of everyone downstairs. She sits on the ground and grabs one off a large stack of books. 

“Christmas Carol?” Janis asks, reading the cover. “Classic.”

“It’s great so far,” Lana says eagerly.

“How old are you?” Janis asks as she looks at the large book on the rather small lap. 

“Ten.”

“Wow,” Janis says as she sits down. “May I?” 

Lana nods and wordlessly opens her book. Janis takes the next off the stack and starts to read. 

—-

She looks up from her book when she hears a, “Janis? Are you up here?” 

Janis looks to Lana, asking wordlessly if it’s okay to reveal her hiding spot. Lana nods, so Janis calls, “Over here!” 

Cady comes clicking her way over to them. “What are you two doing?” 

“Reading,” Lana says innocently. 

“Hm,” Cady hums. “Janis, we should get back to the party.”

“Okay,” Janis says. “Thanks for the book, Lana.”

“No problem,” Lana replies, already engrossed in her own once more. 

Janis follows Cady as she practically drags her back down the stairs and over to the dance floor. Janis doesn’t dance, but Cady either doesn’t know that or doesn’t care as she winds her arms around her neck. 

“I can’t dance,” Janis whispers, gently resting her hands on Cady’s hips. 

“Figure it out,” Cady retaliates. “Just sway a little bit or something.”

Janis nods sheepishly. “Did I do something?”

“What?”

“You’ve been… distant,” Janis whispers. “Are you upset with me?”

“I’ve just been busy,” Cady says. “The holidays are one of our busiest seasons.”

“You’ve been busy the whole time, but you were still… nice about it, a while ago,” Janis says. “I feel like I haven’t even seen you in days.”

“Well, what do you want from me, Janis?” Cady asks in exasperation. “You’re leaving tomorrow, this is all fake, in case you’ve forgotten.” 

“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” Janis says. “I’m just saying, I… I miss you. It’s been nice getting to know you and everything, I’d like to end this on a nice note.”

“This isn’t nice enough for you?” 

“Of course it is, but I’m talking about you!” Janis retaliates. “You’re the one who’s not nice anymore!” 

“This isn’t real! I’m the same as I’ve been the whole time!” Cady hisses. 

“No, you aren’t, that’s the thing!” Janis says. “If you had been that would be fine, but you… you changed! You were amazing for a while, I-I thought… I don’t know, it’s dumb, but we had a connection, and it was really nice! And now you’re right back to ignoring me and treating me like shit.” 

“I am not treating you like shit, how dare-”

“You can say whatever you want, but you know it’s true,” Janis scoffs. 

“Would you shush? These people are important!” Cady says, ironically being the one to escalate the volume. “I can’t spend every second with you, it’s not my fault you’re, like, in love with me or something!” 

“Would it be so horrible for you if I was? Is it that hard for you to interact with another human?” Janis yells. “This place is amazing and everything, but I’m sick of being treated like… like an object, not a person! What happened last week, why have you been pulling away?!”

“Stop yelling, do you have any idea where we are?!” 

“Yes, I do, and I don’t really care!” Janis insists. “Because heaven forbid a few important people know that you treat me like shit! And I’m tired of it!” 

“Janis, you know how this has to work-”

“No, I know how it does work! You-you could’ve changed the way all of this works, and you decided not to!” Janis says. “And for what? Are you happy, living like this?! So desperate for attention that you’ll drag someone like me off the sidewalk and in here just to get some little scrap of attention?”

“Don’t you dare,” Cady growls lowly. 

“I do dare, though, is the thing,” Janis says. Dammit, don’t cry, not now. “I dare enough to tell you I’m tired of this. I’m tired of giving you so much of myself and getting fucking scraps in return. And I hope you’re fucking happy with yourself. I hope your family’s proud. Your grandmother was right, you really don’t love me.” 

She hears a few scattered murmurs from the crowd at that. Cady looks frantically between people, as a frenzied Betsy Heron rushes to try to save face. 

Janis pushes her way through all the crowds and out the doors into the hall. She has no idea where she’s going as her tears start to blur her vision, but she stumbles her way through the mansion as fast as she can manage. 

Cady follows for the first few steps, pleading for her, calling her name softly. Janis ignores it and continues. Cady seems to realize she’s not going to get anything out of this and lets her go. 

“Where’s my fucking suitcase,” Janis grumbles as she throws the door to their room open. 

She tears through the room, pulling everything out from beneath the bed and ripping through the closet to find her bag before starting to shove all her things carelessly into it. And a few extra things. She’ll be damned if she’s leaving this place with nothing. 

She’s around the room in a flurry. She doesn’t even pack her toiletries properly, she just shoves the bottles and containers straight into her bag and leaves it. It’s good enough. 

Janis pulls out her phone as she grabs the last few things and shoves them wherever there’s room. “Damian?”

“Jan? What’s up?” Damian grumbles sleepily. “Are you crying?”

“How fast can you get here?” Janis says, unable to hold back her tears any longer. “I can’t-I can’t stay here anymore, I just… I can’t.”

“What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Janis sobs. “I-”

“Hey. Breathe. Is Cady there?” Damian says lowly. Janis takes a deep breath and tries to imagine what he’s doing. Sitting in his bed, probably still in the dark. Or maybe he’s walked into his living room and is sitting by the window, watching the city go by.

“No,” Janis says. “I ran out.”

“Nice going,” Damian teases gently. “Just take a second. And then walk me through what happened. I’m looking at flights right now.” 

“She’s just- she’s so! Ugh, I don’t even know! She’s absolutely infuriating!” Janis grumbles. 

“Absolutely infuriating?” Damian scoffs. “Babe, you’ve been spending too much time around those people.”

“I know! It’s just, god! Everywhere I go I have to be so… on edge, because everyone is fucking watching my tiniest move! If it’s not her family then it’s the literal paparazzi. I’m not cut out for this, Dame. And then her,” Janis sighs in exasperation, flopping back onto the cushy bed.

“Her.” 

“Her,” Janis says, feeling tears well behind her eyes again. “I don’t get her. One minute she’s taking me on these amazing dates and being so sweet and patient and kind that I can almost forget they’re fake dates, and then she’s… we’re… strangers again. She’s so cold, and… harsh. And I know it’s all fake and that I’m meant to leave soon anyway, but… it’s… it’s messing with me a lot more than I thought it would.” 

“Mm,” Damian hums soothingly. “Have you… talked to her about this?” 

“No,” Janis scoffs. “I mean, I kinda… said a bit of that quite loudly in front of a lot of very rich fancy people.”

“Oh, for the love of god, Janis!”

“You would’ve done the same if you’d been there!” Janis accuses. “But I haven’t… I can’t talk to her. Not really.”

“Why?”

“What the hell do you mean, why? Because she doesn’t care! I’m practically breaking my contract if I bring any real emotions into this,” Janis says. 

“I think they’ve already been brought, hon,” Damian reminds her gently.

“I know,” Janis sniffs. “And this bed is way comfier than it has any right to be and it’s pissing me off.”

“Steal it.”

“Yeah, that’ll work out,” Janis snorts. 

“Probably better than this situation.”

“Don’t remind me,” Janis sighs. “I just… I-” Her text tone pings against her ear, cutting her off. “Hold on.” 

Janis frowns as she pulls the phone back and checks her notifications, and it deepens when she sees the message from Cady. It’s a link, and when Janis clicks it, she’s surprised to see a tabloid article. About them. 

“Dame, I gotta call you back,” Janis sighs, starting to skim the article.

“Please don’t,” Damian replies.

“Bye,” Janis says, hanging up on him with a huff. “What the hell is this, now?” 

Is the Infamous Ice Queen Finally Thawing Out? 

It’s undeniable that there has been a media frenzy around the youngest daughter of Charles “Chip” Heron as of late. Sources have been abuzz at the recent reveal of Cady Heron’s relationship with café employee Janis Sarkisian. 

Though their relationship is perhaps unconventional, one thing is instantly clear to anyone observing. The “Ice Queen” Heron seems to be melting. 

Heron has previously held quite a reputation for being impersonal and cold, but looking at these two together, it’s quite clear that spring is in the air. Inside sources report that things are going well enough that we may even hear wedding bells in the near future! 

Those close to the couple seem to be thankful for it, reporting that the heiress has been kinder as of late, and seems to be much happier than in the years prior. 

One thing is certain, and that is that these two are madly in love! We wish them all the happiness and will bring you all of the latest updates on their relationship. 

“Fuck,” Janis sighs as she scrolls through, interrupted periodically by her own face smiling at Cady. To anyone outside, it does really look like they’re in love. The look on Cady’s face. Wait, those were taken today. How fast do those get out? 

Cady sheepishly enters the room, knocking quietly on the already open door. “Can we please talk?” 

“I already said everything I wanted to,” Janis says coldly, tossing her phone to the side and starting to zip her bag up.

“I didn’t,” Cady begs softly. “I know I don’t have a right, but… hear me out, please.” 

“… Fine,” Janis says. “Make it quick.” 

“Can we, um… go outside, maybe?” Cady asks sheepishly. Janis nods and grabs her jacket off the bed, leaving Cady to fend for herself against the winter chill. Cady doesn’t, and just steps outside in her thin dress. 

“You wanted to talk,” Janis reminds her after a few minutes of silence. 

“Yeah,” Cady says with a heavy exhale. “I’m so sorry, Janis. Nothing about this has been fair to you. Asking you to do this in the first place… I cornered you. Of course you’d do it for the money, but… it still wasn’t fair of me to ask this of you. And the way I’ve treated you since, is… deplorable. 

“The… the tabloids have always been right. I don’t know how to talk to people. I don’t know how to be a person myself. I’m cold, and impersonal, and rude, and haughty, and arrogant, and… I’m-I’m not a good person. I know I’m not,” Cady continues, her voice wavering. “I’ve tried so hard to change the narrative, but every move I make gets twisted. Everything I say, just… turns more people against me.”

Janis is quiet. Where is Cady going with this? 

“But treating you, someone who… has no experience with the world in which I live, someone who has no experience with me as an individual, the way I have, is… I think it’s the most unforgivable thing I’ve ever done,” Cady says. “And I’m… so sorry. And I know that’s not enough, and the money isn’t enough, and I know I’ve hurt you, and god, you have no idea how much I wish I could start this whole thing over and undo it all.

“You’ve been beyond gracious, beyond patient with me when I haven’t deserved it. You’re… a far better person than I could ever hope to be. You have the best heart of anyone I’ve ever met, and you’ve… changed me. Forever, and for the better, and I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me in such a short time.” 

“Can you not do the business talk right now?” Janis says, hunching in on herself a bit to keep out the blustery chill. 

“I don’t know how,” Cady says with a sob. “I try so hard. To be a person. But I’ve been like this since I was so young, Janis, I don’t… I don’t think that part of me exists anymore.” 

“It does,” Janis says quietly. “I’ve seen it.” 

“You’re the only one,” Cady says, giving her usual smile. Doesn’t meet her eyes, and this one is paired with tears running down her face in rivers and a rosy pink nose from the cold. “Everything I’ve ever done has been to impress my parents. All I’ve ever done has been to keep up with my brothers. I’ve been dead set on taking over the business since I was six. I need it, more than anything. My brothers would run it into the ground, and they don’t even want it in the first place. 

“But I need it. Or I don’t… I don’t know who I am. I’ve devoted my entire life to it. And my parents… don’t care. Because I’m the youngest, and I’m a girl,” Cady sobs. “I’m the one who took… etiquette classes, and went to cotillions and-and did horseback riding so they’d be proud of me even though I’m fucking terrified of horses and studied mathematics so I’d be able to handle the bookkeeping and I triple majored in university so I’d be capable enough and where the fuck has it gotten me? Where am I left? In a place where I don’t have enough humanity left in me not to hurt the one person who’s ever shown me a genuine bit of kindness.” 

Janis is quiet as she processes everything Cady’s just told her. She watches the snowflakes land on Cady’s nose and eyelashes, watches them melt and bleed down her face, mixing with Cady’s hot tears. 

“I’m so-”

“Why did you send me that article, Cady?” Janis interrupts. Cady looks at her. Janis feels her heart splinter in spite of it all as she looks at Cady’s sweet, sad face. 

“Because it’s true,” Cady whispers, followed by another series of quiet sobs. “For once. For once, the tabloids got it all right.” 

“All of it?” Janis whispers back. She can see Cady’s lip trembling as she leans against the railing, watches tears drip down her nose and melt perfect little circles into the powdery snow. 

Cady nods shakily. “All of it.” 

“Then why have you been shutting me out?” Janis demands. “If all of it’s true. If you really… I don’t understand. Why have you been so-”

“Because I know you’re leaving soon and I don’t know how to handle the fact that I’m about to lose you!” Cady yells in a single breath. “I mean it when I say everything in that article was true, I-I… I thought all of this was going to be fake, but it’s not. It’s not fake to me anymore, and I don’t know how to deal with that!” 

Janis blinks in shock. 

“I’m sorry, I just… I don’t want you to go but I know it’s happening,” Cady sobs. “And if-if I’m not… if I don’t… if I don’t actually love you then it doesn’t hurt when you leave.” 

Janis looks at her sadly. Cady’s holding herself so tightly, shaking so hard. Janis can’t tell if it’s a ditch attempt to comfort herself or if the cold is starting to get to her. It is freezing out here. 

Before Janis knows what she’s doing, she’s taking slow steps over to Cady. She’s gently worming Cady’s arms away from their vice grip around herself. She’s tipping Cady’s chin up, looking into teary blue eyes. She’s stroking her thumb over Cady’s cheek and wiping her tears away. 

“Please don’t leave,” Cady whispers shakily, and that seals the deal. 

Janis leans in and gently presses her lips against Cady’s. She feels more than hears Cady’s surprised gasp and the content breath she releases against her cheek. Cady’s lips are cold, and Janis can taste the lingering salt of Cady’s tears. But they’re also warm in only the way Cady can be, soft, her. 

They’ve kissed before, countless times, but this one is real. It’s real, and it’s them, and it’s perfect. Cady winds her hands beneath Janis’ coat and grips the fabric of her shirt almost hard enough to tear, like Janis is apt to simply disappear if she doesn’t hold on for dear life. 

“Well, how can I refuse that?” Janis whispers jokingly when they break apart. She rests their foreheads together, looking into Cady’s eyes for her response to all of this as they’re both breathing noticeably heavier. 

“I’d understand if you do,” Cady whispers back. “I still have absolutely no excuse for everything I’ve done to you.” 

“Maybe not,” Janis agrees. “But I understand a lot more now.” 

“You do?” Cady asks. Janis smiles faintly as that hopeful twinkle returns to her eyes. 

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I think… you’re… protecting yourself in the only way you’ve ever known how. And I’m still hurt, but… so are you. And I understand how those connect a lot more than I did before.” 

“Oh,” Cady sniffles. “You can still, like… leave, if you, um… if you want to. And you don’t have to forgi-”

“Stop pushing me away,” Janis whispers, gently kissing Cady again. 

“I’m not,” Cady protests against her lips in between kisses. “I’m just- trying to- let you know that- mm, okay.” 

Janis chuckles faintly as Cady melts into her, winding her arms around Janis’ neck and eagerly kissing her back. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Cady whispers when they break apart again. “Right?”

“Yeah. We can figure it out,” Janis nods. She holds Cady’s trembling form close to her and runs a hand over her rosy cheek. “You’re freezing.” 

“You’re telling me,” Cady laughs. She squeals as Janis gently lifts her off the ground and turns to carry her inside. “Jay!” 

“Do I need to carry you all the way back down to the party?” 

“I should go back, at least,” Cady sighs sadly. “If anyone’s even still here. My mother probably sent everyone away by this point.”

“Betsy Heron ending a party early?” Janis scoffs. “Thought that was unheard of.” 

“That’s true,” Cady giggles. “But we did kind of make a scene. Saving themselves from

embarrassment is more important.”

“Should we go check?” 

“Fuck ‘em,” Cady says, leaning in to kiss her again. Janis stumbles backwards in shock, trying not to drop Cady as she kisses her back. 

“Mm- Caddy,” Janis says, coming to the unfortunate realization that she does have to interrupt this. “Seriously, should we go back?” 

“Seriously,” Cady echoes. “Fuck. Them.”

“They’re your family, Cads,” Janis says quietly.

“And my family is exhausting, Jay,” Cady says. “I have a corset under this dress that’s really uncomfortable and I’d very much like to get out of and my makeup is itchy. And I really don’t… I don’t want to deal with them right now.” 

She looks close to tears again as she ends the sentence, so Janis decides not to press her further. “Okay. Do we just go to bed, then?”

“I guess so,” Cady shrugs. “I’ve never left one of my mom’s parties early, I don’t know the etiquette for this kind of situation.”

“I don’t know that there is etiquette for this kind of situation, Cads,” Janis chuckles. “I think we’re on our own here.” 

“Oh,” Cady says. Janis can practically see the horrified gears turning in her mind. No etiquette is practically unheard of for her. “In that case I would really like to go to bed, yeah.” 

“Okay,” Janis says. Cady grins, kisses the tip of her nose and climbs down, grabbing a set of (Janis’, of course) pajamas before she heads to the bathroom to take her makeup off. Janis follows suit, but she decides to get changed in the bedroom. Getting naked in front of Cady isn’t something she’s quite ready for. 

She’s also not ready for a knock at the door. She hops over as she finishes tugging her pajama pants up and makes sure she’s presentable before she pulls it open. 

“Oh, um… Mr. and Mrs. Heron,” she says when she sees their company. “Cady’s in the bathroom, um… do you…” 

“She may remain there, it’s you we wish to speak with,” Cady’s father says. Shit. 

They don’t look happy, and the temptation to shut the door in their faces and escape out the window is high. But something tells her that wouldn’t make Cady very happy, and they’ve already had a very emotional evening. So, Janis steps aside and allows them in. 

“What do you need?” she asks politely. 

“You must leave,” Cady’s mother says. “Immediately.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“We have been patient enough with the two of you for the duration of this visit of yours. We have tried to be understanding, though we cannot fathom why our Cadence would choose to involve herself with the likes of you,” she continues. “But this little stunt of yours at the party is the final straw. I suppose it’s to be expected from someone of your… status. But we cannot excuse this behavior. You cannot stay here. And you cannot continue to see Cady.” 

Janis blinks in shock, trying to process the amount of direct insults packed into a few short sentences. And decide what to do with them. 

“Okay,” she says softly. “I understand.” 

“We appreciate that,” Mrs. Heron says. 

“But may I just say one thing?” 

“Absolutely n-”

“Absolutely, yes. Go right ahead,” Mr. Heron says, interrupting his wife. 

“The only reason I’m agreeing to this is because of Cady. I don’t know why she chose to be with me either, and I’m… I’m beyond grateful every day that she did. But I’ve gotten to know her pretty well over the last few… years, and I know that nothing matters to her more than the two of you,” Janis says. She tries to maintain her cool, but her voice does pick up volume as she goes on. “Everything she’s done since she was a child has been to make the two of you happy. To make you proud. She’s been so devoted to the business, and she’s beyond capable. Forgive me for saying so, but I think you know she’s more capable than any of your sons.”

“We most certainly will not!” Mrs. Heron huffs.

“That’s your prerogative, but it’s the truth. And Cady wants it,” Janis continues. “More than anything, she wants to help you with that business. Not for the money, or for the status. She wants it because she knows what she’s capable of, and she’s capable of fantastic things. She wants it because all that woman has ever wanted is to impress you. But you overlook her because she’s your youngest. You don’t have to do this traditionally. Give it to the child who wants it and would take it to the next level. I promise you won’t regret it. I’m happy to go, because I’m not going to be the one to stand in her way. All I want is for her to be happy.

“You can do whatever you want to me, but leave her out of whatever action you take against me. For her sake. And at least hear her out. But I’ll start packing now.”

“Thank you, Janis,” Mr. Heron says quietly. 

“Jay, who are you talk-” Cady asks as she comes out of the restroom. She freezes in her tracks when she sees her parents standing there and Janis looking forlorn in front of them. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing, dear,” her mother says. “Janis was just leaving.”

“What?” Cady asks. “What do you mean leaving?” 

Nobody answers her. Or even looks at her, as they all avert their eyes awkwardly. 

“What do you mean leaving?!” Cady insists, louder. 

“It’s not-”

“I know it’s not polite to yell, Mother, but I’m going to continue until someone gives me a straight answer!” 

“I have to go home, Cads. Something came up,” Janis says softly. In spite of everything, she’s not going to throw Cady’s parents under the bus here. 

“Is everything alright?” Cady asks in concern, ever oblivious to the actual situation. Janis tries not to let anything show when Cady heads over and runs a worried hand over her cheek. “Did someone get hurt?” 

“No, no, everything’s fine,” Janis says. “Some…  distant relative of my mom just died, I have to… go help her out.” 

Part of her secretly hopes Cady catches on, hopes Cady understands that Janis wouldn’t just leave after the evening they’ve had together, after everything finally coming together for the two of them. But the rational part of her knows Cady’s relationship with her family is more important in the long run, and Janis has to take a hit here. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Cady says. “Who was it?” 

“Um, her… grandma…‘s sister,” Janis stutters. Cady’s brow furrows. Shit. 

“Nobody died, did they?” Cady whispers. Janis shakes her head as gently as she can, looking pointedly at the ground and hoping it swallows her whole. I should’ve jumped out the window when I had the chance. Cady nods tightly, lips pursed and thin, before she says, “Mother, Father, may I speak to you in the hallway, please?” 

“I fail to see what we have to discuss, Cadence,” her mother says stiffly. 

“Then maybe you should open your fucking eyes, for once! Hallway, now, please!” 

Janis jumps at the profanity and the volume and is suddenly extra grateful that Cady’s nieces and nephews are all on the floor below them. Cady’s parents follow in concerned confusion when Cady stalks out to the hall outside their room. Neither of them bother to shut the door behind them. Janis doesn’t bother trying not to snoop. 

“How could you do this to me?!” Cady insists as soon as her parents cross the threshold. “To her?!” 

“Cady, being with someone like her is not good for you,” her mother begins. “We’re simply acting with your best interests in mind, dear.”

“Are you?! You never have before,” Cady scoffs. 

“How dare you-”

“No, how dare you, Mother?! How dare you act like you’re doing this for anyone but yourselves?” Cady yells. “You-you never cared about me! Did you even want me, or was I just the accident everyone says I was?” 

“You were no accident, Cadence,” her father says softly. 

“Then why have you always treated me like I was?” Cady yells around a sob. “Did either of you ever even change a single one of my diapers? Or did you just give me to the nannies as soon as they cut the cord?”

“Cady-”

“No! I’m sick of this, I’m sick of you two acting like-like everything’s fine and we’re this too-big happy family that everyone loves and then we’re so dysfunctional behind the scenes!” Cady insists. “And you two were never around! You aren’t around enough to see what you’ve done to us! Nothing ever changes! Do you even know all the shit I’ve done to make you proud of me? Just to get you to look at me?!

“Etiquette classes I didn’t need, and how to be a good hostess, and- for fucks sake, I started with undergrad level business classes when I was six years old, Father! And you never knew that, did you? As long as I had the most expensive tutors you could find or was going to the most prestigious school you could ship me off to you didn’t care what the hell I studied. You didn’t even care enough to come to my graduation. Either of them! I was valedictorian both fucking times! And-and I triple majored in university figuring that would get someone talking and it would somehow make its way back to you! But it was fucking pointless, wasn’t it?! Because I’m a girl, and your youngest, and you don’t know any of us well enough to know that you shouldn’t give the business to Charlie when you retire?!” 

“Cadence, really now-” 

“Mother, give it a fucking rest!” 

“Why I never-”

“I know this whole scheme you’re trying to pull over Janis was your doing,” Cady says, a terrifying growl in her tone now. “You can’t tell me it wasn’t. And I’m not fucking having it. You know something? Our entire relationship has been fake. We haven’t been together for three years, I met her a month ago. I knocked her over and cussed her out on the sidewalk for all the world to see. We’ve been faking this whole time because I knew that all you’d talk about is how I’m not married yet and how I need to settle down. We’ve been faking to make you happy.

“I’ve known Janis for three fucking weeks,” Cady says with a shaky sob. “And those three weeks have been some of the best of my entire life. And I don’t care that you’ll never approve, I know you won’t. I should’ve given up on trying to get you to notice me a long fucking time ago, let alone be proud of me. I don’t care about any of that anymore because I found someone who makes me happy. She makes me feel a way I’ve never felt before. A way none of this could ever make me feel.

“And as much as I don’t want to admit it, as much as I don’t want to admit you’re right and that having someone I may share my life with someday is amazing, it’s true. It’s true, and I love her. And I am not going to let you ruin this for me. Janis stays.”

“That stunt she pulled at the party, Cadence,” her mother tries to say.

“We argued! So what?! I am sorry we interrupted your precious soirée with our private matters, but it was not Janis’ fault. Everything she said down there was something I had had coming for a long time. I deserved every word she said,” Cady says. 

Janis can hear the shakiness in her voice now, and can hardly bear not going to intervene. She knows the reality of what Cady’s doing must be hitting her right now.

“Because all of it was true. I’ve been hurting her to impress you,” Cady continues. “And I’m done. If you actually care about me, as your child, and not about your precious image, now is the time to prove it. Janis. Stays.” 

“Absolutely n-” her mother says.

“She may stay until the morning,” her father says at the same time. “At least. She won’t be able to get far at this hour and in this weather anyway. And your mother and I seem to have some things to discuss amongst our own company. I will reconnect with you in the morning to handle the details.” 

“Yes, Father,” Cady says, back to her usual meek tone. 

“None of that, now,” her father chides. “We do love you, very much. I am… aware we haven’t done our jobs as your parents. If you’ll allow it, I’d like to try to begin now. Make amends.”

“I’d like that,” Cady sniffles. Janis is worried by how quiet Cady’s mother is, but things seem to be going well regardless. 

“We’ll discuss more tomorrow. It’s late, now, and we’ve all had quite the melodrama this evening. Get some rest, Cady.”

“Yes, Father,” Cady says, a bit more pep in her tone this time. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. We love you,” her father says. 

“I love you too.”

Janis stands from her spot on the bed when Cady enters. Cady barely clicks the door shut behind her before she breaks completely. Her knees give out beneath her and she sinks to the ground, muffling sobs into her hand as if someone has actually passed away. 

She startles when Janis rushes up to hold her. Almost like she wasn’t expecting it. Wasn’t expecting comfort. Someone to be there for her. 

Janis leans against the door and pulls Cady into her lap. Cady throws herself at her, clinging desperately to her neck and crying into Janis’ soft pajama top. 

“What have I done?” Cady sobs. 

“Something amazing,” Janis whispers. “And something that’s needed to be done for a long time.” 

Cady doesn’t say anything else. Janis doesn’t either. Nothing she can say will help. Nothing she can say will change anything. But holding Cady close might help. Giving her comfort in this fragile moment might change something. Something small, but something enough. 

“Just let it out,” Janis whispers. “I gotcha.” 

And Cady does. She just clings to Janis like a lifeline and sobs. Janis’ legs go numb after a while. Her arms begin to ache where she’s gently squeezing Cady against herself. Her pajama top is clinging to her skin uncomfortably now that it’s thoroughly soaked with Cady’s tears. 

Janis doesn’t mention a thing. Because, as uncomfortable as it all is, Janis is happy. Cady stood up for herself. And for her. Cady chose them. Cady took the first baby step on the path to healing.

And Cady said she loves Janis. 

If Damian could see me now. 

—-

Cady tires herself out after about an hour and a half. Neither of them move even after she goes quiet, just relishing in a not-quite peaceful moment they share. Janis does text Damian to let him know things are okay and that he doesn’t need to be on the next flight to Colorado after all. He sends back an eye roll emoji and says to tell Cady he says hi. 

Other than that, Janis just holds Cady close, rocks her, gently massages her hip with her thumb, waits for her to speak. 

“I’m sorry,” Cady whispers after a long time. 

“For what?”

“Everything,” Cady says, fiddling with the hem of Janis’ shirt. “Them. Me.” 

“I think you’re worth it,” Janis says. “And they come with the territory.” 

“Don’t,” Cady says. “Don’t do that. That was some major bullshit they just tried to pull on you.”

“It was,” Janis nods. “But we’ve known it was gonna happen. They’re never going to approve of me.”

“Then they can suck eggs,” Cady grumbles. Janis can’t help but laugh. 

“Hey,” she says, nosing gently against the top of Cady’s head. “That’s not gonna do us any favors.” 

“I don’t care,” Cady whines. “They’ve been worse to you than I have, which is saying a lot. And you’re still so… gracious. It’s infuriating.” 

“Is it now?” Janis chuckles. “You’ll forgive me for not throwing a tantrum?” 

“I suppose,” Cady huffs jokingly. “But really. I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through.”

“Me too,” Janis says softly. “But I’ve gotten a lot of good from it too.”

“Me too,” Cady says. Janis can feel her smile against her chest. “I guess we should actually go to bed.”

“Do you want to?”

“I dunno if I can,” Cady admits. “But you must be exhausted.”

“You must be too,” Janis says. “Emotionally, anyway.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Cady chuckles sarcastically. “Welcome to holidays with the Herons.” 

“I’d watch that reality show.”

“Don’t you dare,” Cady insists. “Don’t give anyone ideas.” 

“I’m kidding. I think I’d probably be on that reality show by this point and I really don’t need that reaction from Damian,” Janis says with a chuckle.

“Does Damian hate me now?” 

“God, no,” Janis says, laughing harder now. “I think short of killing me or something you can’t do any wrong in his eyes.”

“Good,” Cady sighs. Janis frowns at the genuine relief in it.

“Why?” 

“He’s important to you,” Cady says. “I’d like to meet him at some point, maybe. And I know you’re important to him as well. I just don’t want him to already… have anything held against me.”

“He won’t,” Janis says. “He’s just like… my version of a big brother. But not, because I can’t handle actually being related to him. But he just wants me, like… alive. And moderately happy.”

“He sounds great,” Cady says. 

“He is. You’ll like him,” Janis says softly. They’re quiet again, before Janis asks, “Are you okay?” 

“I think so,” Cady agrees quietly. “It feels good. Kinda cathartic, I guess.”

“Good,” Janis says. “Overwhelming?”

“Definitely,” Cady nods. “You and I still have so much we should talk over, and that’s not even scratching the surface of everything that’ll come up tomorrow with my parents. And then the rest of my family. And a bunch of other people, inevitably, and then… some part of this is gonna end up in the news, and-”

“Cads,” Janis interrupts. “Hey. Look, it’s… eleven thirty at night. Yeah, a lot of shit is gonna happen soon, but it’s nothing we can’t deal with. And it’s nothing we have to deal with now, so just… forget it, for a while, okay? Focus on right now. Right now it’s Christmas Eve, and we’re together figuring stuff out. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Cady says. She gently presses her lips to the underside of Janis’ jaw. “Are your legs asleep?”

“Oh, god, yeah,” Janis says. 

“Sorry,” Cady says, climbing carefully out of her lap. “Oh, your shirt. I’ll get that dry cleaned for you, I’m sorry.”

“Cads, it was eleven dollars from Old Navy, it doesn’t need dry cleaning,” Janis laughs. “I’ll wash it when I get home, it’s fine.”

“I’m still perplexed by how soft your clothes are even though they’re so inexpensive,” Cady says, twirling around and looking curiously at the stolen pajamas she’s wearing. 

“A wonder of the modern world,” Janis says as she changes into a dry t-shirt. 

“It really is! I thought- where are you going?” 

“Secret,” Janis says, reaching a hand out for her. “Come on.” 

Cady pouts adorably in confusion and takes Janis’ hand, following her down the hallway. Janis runs them right past the elevators and towards the marble stairs. They hurry down them until they’re on the main floor, running a little faster when they pass Cady’s father’s study and hear raised voices coming from within. Cady squeezes her hand thankfully as they continue running through the mansion until they end up in one of the kitchens.

“If you were hungry I could’ve had something brought to you,” Cady says in confusion. 

“I’m not. We’re here to make something,” Janis says. 

“We’re what?” 

“Something tells me you’ve never eaten something you made yourself,” Janis says, patting around the wall. “How do I turn the lights on?” 

Cady laughs and heads to the wall she’s examining. She finds a small red light and holds the back of her hand against it. Suddenly, part of the wall shifts and reveals a control panel with a few sliders that adjust different aspects of the room. Cady slides the one for the lights up, and the lights come on above them. “There.” 

“How did you do that?” Janis asks.

“Chip,” Cady responds.

“What?” 

“The panel can only be opened with a scanner,” Cady says. “I have a microchip in my hand that controls all the scanners on our properties.”

“You-you… what?” Janis asks. “Are you a spy? Why do-”

“It’s silly for things like this, but for security and things it’s quite useful,” Cady says. “The doors can only be opened with chips and things like that.” 

“So all the employees have microchips in their hands?”

“No, no, of course not,” Cady says. “Unless they feel they’re going to be working for us for a while and choose to get one. Employees have cards that work for the scanners, but only the ones they’d need access to.”

“That’s fucking insane,” Janis responds. 

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“I… don’t think I want to, but okay,” Janis says in confusion. “Anyway. Ready to cook?” 

“It’s almost midnight, Janis, what could we possibly cook at this hour?” Cady asks in confusion. 

“It’s not really cooking, per se,” Janis says as she roots through all of the cabinets for what they’ll need. “But you need something comforting that’ll help you sleep. And I think it’s my job now to teach you what being a commoner is like, so you get to make something you’ll drink yourself.”

“But I don’t know how to do anything,” Cady says anxiously. “I’ll burn the kitchen down.” 

“And that,” Janis says, trying not to be too loud as she sets her armful of ingredients down. “Is why I’m here!” 

“That’s… a lot of things,” Cady says, eyeing it like it’ll explode at any moment.

“Yeah. Come here,” Janis says. Cady warily pads over to her, squeaking in surprise as Janis turns her to face the countertop and presses against her back. “This okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Cady hums with an eager nod and a flustered blush on her cheeks. “What are we making?”

“Hot chocolate bombs,” Janis says.

“Bombs?!” Cady yelps, trying to jump away. 

“Not actual bombs,” Janis chuckles. “They’re like bath bombs, they’re perfectly safe. They’re one of our biggest sellers at the shop.”

“Oh,” Cady says. 

“After everything that’s happened tonight, you really think I’m gonna show you how to make a bomb?”

“I don’t know!” Cady defends.

“In your kitchen?” 

“I don’t know!” 

“Dork,” Janis teases, kissing Cady’s cheek. “Okay, you ready?”

“No,” Cady says. 

“Great. Take this,” Janis says, handing Cady a grater and a bar of some fancy imported chocolate from Switzerland or Sweden or whatever. Kälteen. Sounds pretty good. Cady holds them aimlessly in her hands. Janis isn’t phased and moves a bowl in front of her. “Grate that into there.”

“How?” 

“Like this,” Janis says, gently demonstrating the motion she should use. “No, no, unwrap it first!” 

“Oh. Oops,” Cady says softly. 

“It’s okay,” Janis comforts. “It’s your first time. There you go.” 

“How much?” Cady asks. “This is satisfying.”

“All of it,” Janis chuckles. “Just be careful you don’t grate your fingers.” 

Janis gets to work on her own chocolate bar, because… chocolate. She sneaks a few pieces for a snack and offers Cady one too, which she takes from her fingers and chases with a gentle peck. 

“You’re so fast!” Cady whines.

“I’ve done this a lot,” Janis says. “You’re doing good.” 

“No I’m not,” Cady grumbles.

“Yes you are, Grumpy, come on,” Janis says. “See, you already finished, and there’s no blood in our chocolate! That’s way better than I did the first time.” 

“Oh,” Cady says. She hums contently and gives a small happy wiggle when she looks at her hard work. “Now what?” 

“Now we start tempering it,” Janis says. She heads to the stove and gets the boiler set up. Cady watches her curiously, and Janis can almost see the questions burning behind her eyes. “You melt it over a bit of hot water like this so it heats evenly and indirectly. If I put it in the pan right over a burner it would burn and cook too fast.”

“Oh,” Cady says. “How do you know all this stuff?”

“Ask your father what happened to the original location of the coffee shop I work at.”

“Oh,” Cady says solemnly. “Wait, what?”

“Come here,” Janis says, decidedly ignoring the second half of that. “Stir this.”

“Okay,” Cady says. She takes the offered whisk and continues stirring their chocolate around the bowl. “What are you-”

“Just keep an eye on it, you’re doing great!” Janis says as she fills a bowl with ice water and grabs a candy thermometer. She sneakily pulls out her phone to Google the exact temperatures she needs. She may make these once a week, but she’ll be damned if she ever learns those temperatures by heart. 

“Is this right?” Cady asks concernedly. “It’s melting quite quickly.”

“It’s supposed to,” Janis chuckles. “Looks great. Here.”

“What is this?” Cady asks, taking the candy thermometer from Janis and gently poking the end into her fingertip. “Ouch.” 

“Don’t do that,” Janis says, trying not to laugh. “Put it in the chocolate.” 

“Oh,” Cady says. She carefully sticks the end into the melting chocolate and looks curiously at the digital end telling her the temperature. 

“Stir it a little bit to make sure it’s all in there,” Janis instructs, pressing against Cady’s back again. Cady does, whisking the last few flakes of unmelted chocolate around until they melt into the puddle of gloopy goodness they have. “Okay, that’s the right temperature. Now put the bowl into the water. But be super careful not to get any of the water into the bowl.”

“What?” 

“Here,” Janis chuckles. She gently rests her hands on top of Cady’s and guides her motions. “Keep stirring so it doesn’t seize up.” 

Cady does, resting against Janis’ shoulder as she keeps working. The temperature of their chocolate steadily decreases. 

“Good. Now put it back over the heat.”

“Why?” Cady asks.

“This is how you temper it,” Janis says. “Temperature up and down and back again. It gives it a really nice texture and makes it shiny.”

“Oh,” Cady says. “Sounds nice.”

“It will be. We don’t really need to do it for something like this, but they’ll look better this way,” Janis chuckles. Cady nods thoughtfully as she brings the temperature back up a bit. “Done! Now… pour it into this.”

“All of it?” Cady asks worriedly, holding the warm bowl of melted chocolate between her hands and looking at the silicone mold in concern.

“Yep. Try to get it into the little sphere thingies as much as you can, but just go for it,” Janis instructs. Cady carefully tips the bowl to fill up each pocket in the mold. “Wow.”

“What wow?” Cady asks frantically. 

“Good wow. Your hands are really steady,” Janis says. 

“I don’t think so,” Cady chuckles. “What now?”

“Pour it back.” 

“This recipe makes no sense,” Cady says. 

“It will when you see how it turns out,” Janis says. “Patience.”

“I don’t have any of that,” Cady pouts. 

“I think you have more than you think,” Janis chuckles. “Just tip it upside down and let it drip back into the bowl.” 

Cady does, draining the extra chocolate out and leaving them with a bunch of perfect shells for chocolate bombs. They fill up a few more molds just so they don’t waste the chocolate, and both of them sneak a taste of the melty goodness from the sides of the empty bowl. 

“What do you like in your hot chocolate, Cads?” 

“I don’t know,” Cady says as she puts the last tray of molds into the freezer. “I’ve never had it.”

“You what?!” Janis yelps, almost banging her head against the inside of a low cabinet. 

“My mother never let me. She said it was for peasants and had too much sugar,” Cady says. 

“Of course she did. Well, we’ll just have to try everything, then,” Janis says. “Here we go.” 

Cady watches in confusion as she comes back with armfuls of treats the likes of which Cady has hardly seen before. She didn’t even think her family would allow this in the house. Sprinkles, mini marshmallows, all sorts of things. 

“What are these?” Cady asks, curiously examining a marshmallow. 

“These are… things,” Janis says defensively. She watches Cady for a moment. “You can eat the marshmallows, you know, Cads.” 

“It’s food?” Cady asks in shock. “But it’s… like a tiny little pillow.”

“A tiny little pillow made of pure sugar,” Janis chuckles. “Try one.”

Cady picks up a single mini marshmallow and squishes it between her fingers, examining it like a scientific specimen. 

“Caddy.”

“I’m nervous!” Cady pouts. 

“It’s one marshmallow!” Janis laughs as she pulls a tray of now-solid chocolate spheres out of the freezer. 

“It has a very disconcerting texture!” Cady huffs. 

“Yeah, they’re better stale,” Janis agrees. “But seriously, try it.” 

“…You promise it’ll be okay?” Cady asks. Janis puts the molds down and gently pulls Cady into her, pulling their waists together and smiling at her.

“I promise. And I got you on the off chance you have some horrific marshmallow allergy and fall into a coma at my feet.” 

Cady huffs at her, but does finally put the marshmallow in her mouth. She chews interestedly. For much longer than Janis thinks is probably necessary, but Cady can do this however she wants to. Cady’s face shifts from concern, to curiosity, back to concern, then to a smile. But she’s still totally quiet. 

“Is it good?” Janis smirks. Cady bites her lip so she’ll stop smiling and shakes her head. “You want more?” Cady nods. “That’s what I thought.” 

Cady happily munches on the handful of marshmallows she steals while Janis carefully pops the chocolate out of the molds. Cady’s voice is muffled when she asks, “What now?”

“Now you finish chewing, you heathen,” Janis snorts. Cady nods and continues her very important work. Both of them giggle a bit as it takes a lot longer than is reasonable. 

“Okay,” Cady says when she finally swallows. “What now?” 

“Take this,” Janis says, brandishing a container of hot chocolate mix and a tablespoon. 

“Can I eat this?” 

“No!” Janis says, taking the spoon back. “Don’t… don’t do that. Trust me.” 

Cady nods gravely and looks suspiciously at the container. “I thought we already put the chocolate in.”

“That’s just for the shells. I don’t care how rich you are, you make hot chocolate with the shitty powder stuff,” Janis says. “Put a scoop in half of the… halves.”

“Mmkay,” Cady hums, happily dumping heaping spoonfuls into the chocolate shells. “Only half of them?”

“Yeah. If you put stuff in the top half it’ll fall out  when you put them together,” Janis explains. “Now the fun part.“

“I’m already having fun,” Cady says softly. 

The smile on her face gives Janis some hope, in a strange way. The childlike joy and wonder in her eyes as she looks at their handiwork so far, the happy little dances she does seemingly without realizing whenever they finish a step. It’s a genuine joy that Janis enjoys seeing. Cady is happy right now, almost in the middle of the night, in the kitchen of the huge house. Alone, with Janis, making dorky treats. She’s genuinely happy in a way rarely seen. And she’s willing to give Janis a chance just for things like this. 

So, yeah. Janis has a bit of hope. Call it naive, but it’s there.

“Me too,” she whispers back. Cady smiles wider and kisses her cheek. Janis squeaks softly and blushes, clearing her throat a bit before she looks back to their hot chocolate bombs. “Okay, um… next step.” 

“Yeah, I wanna do the fun part,” Cady replies eagerly. 

“Put whatever you want inside. Just go easy on the marshmallows,” Janis says. 

“Just me?” 

“They’re your chocolate bombs,” Janis shrugs. 

“But you’re helping,” Cady pouts. “…Do everything. And you’re a professional. You make some too.” 

“If you insist,” Janis says. 

“I do,” Cady says authoritatively. “You have to make at least one. And I wanna have yours.”

“Alright, bossy. You wanna make one for me, then?” 

“Yeah!” Cady says eagerly. “What do you like in yours?” 

“Whatever you put in,” Janis replies. “Have at it.” Cady nods pensively. “No, not that.”

“Jay!”

“I’m kidding. Do what you want,” Janis chuckles. Cady humphs and goes for the marshmallows. Janis appeases her with a kiss on the cheek and lots of marshmallows stuffed into the one she’s making. 

They continue working in silence until all of the bombs are stuffed full of various goodies. 

“Can we drink it now?” Cady asks happily.

“They’re not bombs, yet, Cads,” Janis chuckles. “Can you look for some white chocolate?” 

“Um… mmhmm!” Cady hums. 

“Cabinet over there,” Janis says, pointing Cady to where she found the other chocolate.  

“Thank you,” Cady sighs in relief. Janis grabs a couple of small pans and sets them both over a low heat. Cady returns with her bar of white chocolate. “Are we doing the thingy again?”

“Nah, this is just to make ‘em look snazzy. That would just be a waste of time. We just need to melt this stuff real quick,” Janis explains. 

“Oh,” Cady says. She almost looks disappointed. 

“Faster we’re done, faster we get to drink,” Janis says. 

“Oh!” Cady says happily. “Okay, yeah.”

“Break it up into this pot here and whisk it,” Janis says. “Just like before.” 

“You want me to?” Cady asks anxiously. “I thought this burns it.”

“It’s over low heat,” Janis comforts. “I’m right here, you’ll be fine.” 

“But what if-”

“Caddy. I just yelled at your parents about how capable and devoted you are, you can melt some white chocolate. Okay?” 

Cady blushes and nods, turning to her pot and breaking the bar into chunks. “I like the sound.”

“Yeah, it’s not bad,” Janis chuckles. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Putting them together,” Janis says. Cady looks frantically back and forth between what Janis is doing and her melting chocolate. “You can look away for more than a millisecond, Cads, it’ll be okay.” 

Cady nods and keeps stirring, but takes a longer peek to watch Janis melt the edges of the spheres together to form perfect little chocolate bombs. “Are they done now?”

“Technically, yeah,” Janis nods. “But… we gotta use this chocolate too. Can you take it off the heat for me?”

“What does that mean?” Cady asks frantically. 

“Pick it up,” Janis chuckles. Cady does, holding the little pot in her hands. Janis returns with a baggie and some scissors. “Hold this.”

They switch items, so Janis is now the one with the chocolate and Cady with the bag. Cady carefully holds it open while Janis pours the chocolate into it and then snips a corner off. 

“What’s this for?”

“To make ‘em pretty,” Janis shrugs. Cady watches as she carefully drizzles the white chocolate in a beautiful squiggle over a sphere. “You wanna try?”

“You help,” Cady says nervously. Janis nods and beckons her over, gently pressing against her back again as she hands Cady the bag. 

“Let gravity do most of it, it’s pretty thin, so you won’t need to squeeze too hard,” Janis murmurs into her ear. “And then just move it back and forth. There, you got it.”

“I did it?” 

“You did it,” Janis confirms. “Nicely done.” 

“Can I do another one?” Cady asks eagerly. Janis nods and grabs another chocolate ball for her to decorate. They both wince and freeze in surprise as Cady accidentally leaves more of a glob than a drizzle on this one. “Oops.”

“That was too hard,” Janis chuckles. “Gentle. Chocolate’s emotionally fragile. Try again.” 

“That one was yours and I ruined it,” Cady pouts. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweet thing, don’t worry about it,” Janis comforts. “It’ll melt anyway. And it’ll still taste good. Try again, you got it.” 

Cady takes a deep breath and tries again on another one. Janis watches over her shoulder, holding Cady around the waist and absentmindedly stroking her thumb back and forth over the soft skin just beneath the hem of Cady’s top. 

“You’re making this quite difficult to concentrate on,” Cady whispers after a while, cheeks burning and her voice much higher than normal. 

“Sorry,” Janis chuckles. She doesn’t let go, but she puts Cady’s top back where it’s meant to be and focuses on keeping her hands where they are. “Was it okay, though?”

“Absolutely,” Cady nods. “You’ll know if something isn’t.”

“I had a feeling,” Janis says. “You’re doing great.” 

“Yours is better,” Cady pouts.

“I’ve had more practice,” Janis reminds her. “I make these, like, once a week in bulk. And my livelihood depends on it. You get good at it quick.” 

“Still.”

“If I’m such a professional you should trust me when I say you’re doing a good job.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Cady says thoughtfully. 

“You suppose?” Janis chuckles. 

“Shut up,” Cady scoffs with a laugh. “I’m not gonna be talking like a normal person after knowing you for three weeks.” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t make fun of you,” Janis replies. 

“You’re quite rude.” 

“You know it.” 

Cady laughs and keeps icing their hot chocolate bombs until her bag of chocolate is empty. She has made a remarkable amount of progress in a matter of a few minutes. Her swirls have gotten progressively less blobby and more uniform and even as she’s gone on. 

“Now can we drink it?” she asks pleadingly. 

“Yeah,” Janis says. She pulls away to go find some mugs and milk while Cady handles putting all the ones they won’t be using onto a tray and into the fridge. 

Cady watches curiously as Janis pours the milk into the two mugs and looks around for the microwave. 

“Where’s…”

“What?” Cady asks. 

“The microwave?” Janis asks. “Everything in here looks like an oven.”

“Oh, um…” Cady hums. “I’m… not sure.” 

“Rich people kitchens,” Janis grumbles under her breath. “Look around and see if anything says microwave.” 

“Okay,” Cady giggles. They both take off in different directions, looking closely at the dials and buttons and screens on all the appliances for what they need. “Oh, this one!” 

Janis comes over when Cady calls for her. “How many ovens do you guys need?” 

“We have a lot of people to feed,” Cady says defensively. “And normally there’s even more people here.” 

“True enough,” Janis says. “How the fuck-”

“Let me,” Cady says with a laugh. “How long do you need?”

“Eh… minute and a half, maybe?” Janis says. Cady manages to enter the time into the microwave and get it going, and they both stare intently at the glass to watch their beverages heat up. Nothing visible actually happens, but it’s still mesmerizing. 

They both startle a little bit when it beeps. They look at each other and laugh as Janis opens it to pull the now-warm mugs out. Cady follows her over to the counter and bounces eagerly when Janis hands her her special hot chocolate bomb. 

“Ready?” Janis asks. Cady bounces up and down a little bit with a nod. Janis smiles and says, “Go.” 

Cady plops hers into the cup. She pouts as it doesn’t seem to do anything for the first few seconds, but it does start to melt as she keeps watching it. She gasps as it suddenly sinks into the milk and reveals all the goodies Janis put into it. A touch of cinnamon, a few Christmassy sprinkles, and loads and loads of marshmallows. “Whoa!” 

“What do you think?” Janis asks softly. 

“That was so cool!” Cady squeals. Janis laughs and hands her a small spoon to mix it all together. Janis looks over when she feels Cady’s eyes on her. 

“Do you wanna do mine?”

“Uhhuh,” Cady mumbles sheepishly. Janis chuckles and passes the supplies over with a kiss to Cady’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Janis replies softly. Cady plops the second bomb into Janis’ mug and watches it do its thing once again. Cady stirs them both up and watches curiously as Janis returns from one of the many refrigerators with a can of whipped cream. 

“What’s that?” 

Janis looks at her with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Do you trust me?”

“Not when you look at me like that,” Cady giggles. “But yes.”

“Close your eyes and open your mouth.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Just do it,” Janis chuckles. Cady eyes her warily, but does as she says. Janis shakes the can and sprays a little bit of it onto Cady’s tongue for her to taste. Cady yelps in surprise at the noise and sudden sensation, but she hums happily when she tastes it and pokes her tongue out to get the bit Janis missed. 

“Mm.”

“You like?”

“Yeah,” Cady says, opening her eyes and wiping the rest of it off her lips with a finger. “It’s really yummy.”

“It’s just whipped cream,” Janis explains. “You want some in your hot chocolate?”

“Yes please,” Cady replies, squishing herself against Janis’ back as she adds a perfect spiral of it to the top of each mug. Janis smiles a bit feeling Cady’s cheek smushed against her shoulder and her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. 

“Here you are, my lady,” Janis says as she hands the mug over. 

“Thanks,” Cady giggles. “Oh! Come on, I have an idea.”

Janis raises a suspicious eyebrow, but follows Cady out of the kitchen and through the winding hallways of the mansion until they end up in the living room. 

All of the lights are off except for the ones on the tree, illuminating everything in a faint white glow just strong enough to see by. Cady shuffles through the cushy rug and turns on the fireplace. The warm glow from the fire doesn’t add that much more light, but it gives it all a comforting ambiance and coziness that has Janis almost on the brink of tears. 

“Sit with me?” Cady asks quietly, sitting on the rug and patting the spot next to her. Janis curls up on the ground next to her and holds her mug out. 

“Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Cady echoes softly, grinning at her with the joy of Christmas twinkling in her crystal blue eyes. “This is delicious.” 

“Good,” Janis grins. “I’m glad you like it.”

Cady gives a small but delighted wiggle as she sips slowly at her warm drink. They’re quiet for a long time, leaning against each other and drinking their hot chocolate. Cady traces faint shapes on Janis’ knee as they’re both deep in their own thoughts. 

“I used to do this every year,” Cady murmurs after a while. 

“Do what?” 

“Sneak out of bed,” Cady recalls fondly. “Every Christmas Eve. I always tried to sneak up on Santa. But I never caught him.”

“I’ve heard he’s tricky,” Janis says with a nod. 

“Christmas was one of the only times everyone was actually together,” Cady continues. “Obviously we do it differently than most families, but everyone was at least here. Or wherever we were that year. All my brothers, and my parents. And my grandparents came later in the day to celebrate with us. But, yeah. When I was really little I’d sneak out of bed after my nannies fell asleep and go get Charlie and Clify to come watch for Santa with me.” 

“That’s cute,” Janis whispers. 

“They hated it,” Cady laughs. “I was such a brat when I was little. But they always did it anyway. Was more convenient for them to be downstairs to put the presents under the tree anyway.” 

“No,” Janis says with a faux-shocked gasp. “They were Santa the whole time?” 

“The whole time!” Cady agrees. “I didn’t catch on until I was thirteen.” 

“That’s impressive on their parts,” Janis chuckles. Cady laughs with her and nods, downing the last glug of her hot chocolate. She places the empty mug onto the stone hearth next to them and leans into Janis’ shoulder. Janis follows suit and holds Cady close to her. 

“What’s your favorite Christmas tradition?” Cady asks softly, looking up at her as best she can from the strange angle. 

“My family used to bake a different kind of cookie every day from December first until Christmas, that was always fun,” Janis chuckles. “They usually lasted until about February. And my sister and I always got to open one present on Christmas Eve. It was always pajamas, but it was still fun.”

“That’s cute,” Cady grins. “I would’ve loved getting an early present when I was younger.”

“You wanna open one now?” Janis asks mischievously. 

“My family will be upset if I open anything without them here,” Cady responds.

“But I won’t,” Janis says. “I wasn’t expecting to still be here when you opened it anyway.” 

“You got me a gift?” Cady asks softly. 

Janis nods and crawls around to the back of the absolutely massive Christmas tree to grab the small package. She was hoping it would manage to stay hidden through the morning and Cady would be able to open it on her own time after Janis had left. This seems better to both of them. 

“But I didn’t get you anything,” Cady says as Janis hands her the box. 

“You got me a little vacation in some of the most beautiful mountains I’ve ever seen, and a lot of very nice and very expensive things, and some great meals and fantastic company,” Janis replies instantly. “And a girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend?” Cady asks with a small smile. 

“I didn’t go through all of that to not get to call you my girlfriend afterwards,” Janis says. 

“Fair enough,” Cady giggles. “I have a girlfriend.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am,” Cady says, fiddling gently with a loose corner on the wrapping paper. Janis did it herself, so it’s less perfect than it would be if Janis had gotten a servant to do it for her. “After everything that happened between Regina and I, I just… I don’t know, I never expected this to happen to me again. And then I became the whole, you know. Ice queen.” 

“No you didn’t,” Janis says. “The media turned you into that. You had no control over it, you were just trying to protect yourself.” 

“I guess,” Cady agrees softly. “Anyway. I get this now?”

“If you want to,” Janis nods, sitting back beside her. Cady removes the wrapping paper and opens the small cardboard box her gift came in. She looks at Janis with tears brimming in her eyes when she pulls out the little snow globe. “For your collection.”

“You remembered,” Cady says with a sniffle. “And it’s the café.”

“Yeah,” Janis says shyly. “I know it’s kinda dumb. Especially since your dad owns it. But they sell these around the holidays, and uh… it’s… where we met, and everything.” 

“It’s perfect,” Cady says. “I love it.” 

“Good,” Janis says. Cady gently shakes the globe to get the ‘snow’ inside to fall, and watches it with a look of childlike wonder in her eye. 

She sets it down next to their mugs and flops down into the cushy fibers of the rug. Janis follows suit, and they both turn onto their sides to see each other. 

They’re quiet again, nose to nose in the faint light and warmed by each other. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Cady whispers, tracing the shape of Janis’ jaw with a delicate finger. 

“I am too,” Janis whispers back. She watches Cady’s eyes flick back and forth, looking between Janis’ eyes and her lips. Janis leans partway in, leaving Cady to close the gap if she wants to. 

And, oh, does she. 

Cady surges forward so strongly she practically rolls Janis over, cupping her face in her small hands and keeping them held against each other. Janis’ eyes widen in surprise, but she leans in just as much and kisses her back just as hard. 

They settle into a rhythm after a while. The frantic movements slow, the desperate urgency fades. And suddenly, it’s the most amazing kiss; just them, and the warm fire, and the light from the tree, and everything else slowly fading away. 

“Merry Christmas, Jay,” Cady whispers against her lips when they break apart and the clocks strike midnight. 

“Merry Christmas, Caddy,” Janis whispers back. 

-

And if Mrs. Heron happens to walk by the living room on her way to bed and find the pair; her daughter protectively curled around the other woman as they’re sound asleep and dreaming of sugar plums on the ground, she’ll keep that sweet sight to herself.

And if she happens to grab a blanket from the pile next to the sofa and spread it over them, nobody has to know it was anything more than some Christmas magic. 

—————

Janis yawns and opens her eyes. She screams when a little face is mere inches from her own. 

Cady startles awake next to her and almost clocks herself against Fiona. “Auntie Cady, why you and Miss Janis sweepin’ on the gwound?” 

“What?” Cady yawns. Janis sits up next to her and looks around. Cady’s entire family is surrounding them, seemingly waiting for them to wake up. They all chuckle when the couple sit upright and look around blearily. “Oh. We must’ve fallen asleep, Jay.”

“Seems that way,” Janis yawns. 

“We were keeping an eye out for Santa,” Cady explains, pulling her niece into her lap. 

“Did you sawed him?” Fiona asks eagerly. Cady smiles as Fiona runs her little hands through her hair. 

“I think I might have caught a glimpse,” Janis says. Fiona looks at her with a gasp. “Have you checked the tree yet?”

“Mommy said we had’ta wait for-for you to wate up,” Fiona says.

“Well, we’re awake now, aren’t we? Go see!” Cady says, putting Fiona back on her feet and sending her off. Fiona goes barreling to the massive tree and scrambles to find a present.

“Lenny?”

“What?” her brother replies, leading the flock of young cousins over to join her.

Fiona shifts to her usual stage whisper. “How do you spell Santa Claus?” 

All the adults chuckle as they go tearing through the large stack of presents to see. Lana suddenly calls, “Like this!” 

All the children squeal and go running over to see. “Who’s it for, who’s it for?” 

“Lana, what does it says?!” Fiona asks eagerly. 

“It’s for Elsie,” Lana says. “Father, I thought you had contacts with Santa Claus, you should’ve told her not to wrap her things. She’ll eat the paper!” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for next year,” Clifton chuckles. “Maybe she’ll need some help.” 

“I can help her, Uncle Clif!” Fiona offers eagerly. She snatches the gift and runs over to the little one. “Look, Elsie, a present!” 

The baby chatters excitedly at the brightly colored box. Her parents laugh as she pats it with her little hands instead of making any effort to open it.

“You take the paper off, see?” Fiona says, gently tugging a corner. Elsie just pats it again. Fiona looks pleadingly at her uncle and grins happily when she gets the go-ahead to just open it in Elsie’s stead. 

Until the baby suddenly bursts into tears. Fiona pulls back as if burnt and scrambles away. 

“She’s just tired,” Clifton says kindly, comforting his daughter with some pats on the back. “I think she wanted to keep the paper on.”

“I’m sowwy,” Fiona says frantically. “I didn’t-” 

She scrambles to her feet and runs towards the grownups. She’s clearly aiming for Cady, but she misses. Janis grunts as a toddler collides with her and starts bawling into her shoulder. 

“Oof,” she mutters. She looks hesitantly at Cady, who shrugs. 

Janis gently hugs Fiona back and rocks her back and forth a bit. She looks to Madeleine, but she just motions for her to continue. Janis does and tries not to let herself panic. 

“Hey, kiddo, you don’t need to cry,” she says softly. “You were doing a very nice thing, helping Elsie.”

“I didn’t-didn’t mean’a make her cwy,” Fiona sniffles desperately.

“I know,” Janis hushes. “But hey, you’ve got your own baby at home, huh?” She leans in to whisper into Fiona’s ear. “Don’t babies cry a lot?” 

“Y-yeah.”

“Yeah. And aren’t you a bit sleepy this morning, even though you’re so excited?” Janis continues softly. Fiona nods. “Elsie is too. And all she can say is a couple words, right now, so she cries instead. Just like your sister. And Elsie really liked that wrapping paper. All you were trying to do was help your cousin, that’s a very nice thing. It’s not your fault she got upset, hm?” 

“It not?”

“No, it’s not. And hey, it’s Christmas! Look at those presents, we haven’t even figured out how many are for you! You don’t need to be so upset either,” Janis comforts. 

“Santa bwinged me a lot,” Fiona sniffles. “Wight?”

“I bet he did,” Janis says. “Now. It’s okay to be sad when you need to, but you don’t need to be right now, alright? You dry those tears and go see.” 

“Thank you Miss Janis,” Fiona sniffles. “Auntie Cady should kiss you mowe.” 

Janis laughs. “Should she now?” 

“Yeah.” 

Cady leans in and gently kisses Janis. Chastely, of course, but enough to make her niece happy. “How’s that, Fifi?”

“Miss Janis vewy nice, Auntie Cady,” Fiona says seriously. “You… um… uh… what’s… oh! You must kiss her. Lots.”

“I’ll get on that. Go open your presents, now,” Cady grins. Fiona runs back to her cousins to join in the gift opening. 

“Cady,” a voice says softly from the doorway. Cady looks up and sees her parents waiting for her. “Might we speak with you, please?” 

“Of course,” Cady says. Janis squeezes her hand for luck. “I’ll be right back.” 

“You’re a real natural with children,” Madeline says, taking Cady’s place next to Janis. “Thank you.”

“Least I could do,” Janis replies with a shrug. 

“Have you and Cady talked about what you want for the future?” Madeleine asks softly. 

“A bit,” Janis sighs. “Not so much between us, but… individually.”

“Individually is important too,” Madeleine nods. “Do you think those individualies match up?”

“Yeah,” Janis nods, smiling and trying not to blush. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good,” Madeleine grins. “I knew from the moment I met you that you’d be good for her. She needs someone like you.”

“I think I need her more,” Janis chuckles. Madeleine shakes her head. 

“You don’t strike me as the type to need anyone to be satisfied. Not that Cady does, either. But she… wants you. And that’s a rare thing for her. In this family she’s never had to want anything. And I see why she does. I never thought anyone could be quite right for her, but you… I think you could be.” 

“I… uh…” 

“Sorry. I know this is all a bit much,” Madeleine says. “Anyway. Just… be careful with what you have with her. I don’t think I have to tell you to be careful with yourself, and certainly not with her. But the thing between you is something rare. Something special. Just keep that in mind.”

“I will,” Janis says. She’s not sure whether or not to be relieved when Cady returns.

“Maddie, I hope you haven’t been scaring my girlfriend,” she hums teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

“I would never,” Madeleine replies. “Janis, she’s all yours.”

“Damn straight,” Cady says quietly. She settles contently in Janis’ lap and smiles as Janis loops an arm over her shoulder. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Janis replies softly. “Everything okay?” 

“I’ve been given their blessing to continue as we were,” Cady says. “With regular monitoring.”

“Oh, fantastic,” Janis grumbles quietly. “So… the…”

“To keep up images, we should. We’ll… claim we desire a lengthy engagement to settle things properly,” Cady says. “If you… um…” 

“A lengthy engagement sounds appropriate,” Janis whispers back. “How much should I ham this up?” 

“Eh, just follow along with what I do,” Cady giggles. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Janis echoes. Cady leans in for a kiss that Janis happily returns. They stay that way while the young ones open their gifts, cuddled contently close to the fire. Cady lounges against Janis’ shoulder and links their fingers together. Janis strokes her thumb against Cady’s hip and watches along with her. 

Cady smiles when Lana comes over to them, kissing her niece on the cheek. “What’s up, Lana? How’s the haul this year?”

“Did you see all the books?” Lana asks excitedly. 

“I did! Which ones did you get?”

“The complete Sherlock Holmes series!” Lana says. “Finally! I’ve been asking Mother and Father for ages.”

“I guess someone finally heard your wishes,” Cady chuckles. She looks at Janis in such a way that lets Janis know that one was definitely her doing. Janis smiles back. 

“Didn’t Santa bring you anything you wished for, Auntie Cady?” Lana asks in concern. Cady looks at Janis with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. She raises her eyebrows in a half question, and Janis nods back. 

“As a matter of fact…” Cady says, a bit louder to draw the attention of everyone else in the room. 

Janis takes the opportunity to stand and stretch her legs as Cady roots through her stocking for the ring. Cady said to match what she does, but Janis is a bit concerned as to how much she’s expected to act here. 

She snaps back into the scene when she hears Madeleine squeal into Callum’s shoulder, trying in vain to muffle herself. Janis looks to Cady as she makes her way back over with a velvet box in her hand. 

Janis doesn’t have to pretend to smile when she approaches and gets down on one knee in front of her. Even for pretend, it’s a remarkably emotional moment for the both of them. Janis even feels herself tear up the slightest bit as Cady flicks the box open. 

“As a matter of fact, Santa didn’t have to bring me anything,” Cady begins with a smile. “Because I already have all I want. I have… a beautiful, kind, charming, funny, gracious, brilliant, fantastic person. That I met by chance. And that I fell in love with by choice. And I can only hope she knows how much she means to me.

“Jay, my love. You are… the answer to a wish I didn’t know I was making. I’m forever grateful I did, and so… I’m making another one. On purpose this time. Janis Sarkisian, will you marry me?” 

Janis looks into Cady’s eyes while she’s speaking. Cady’s tearing up a bit, too. They’ve only known each other for a short time, and yet, they’ve already been through so much together. 

Janis knows that it isn’t truly a marriage proposal. It’s a will you give us a try? Not quite the promise everyone thinks they’re about to make, but a promise nonetheless. To give them both their fair shot. To try to have a true relationship. To communicate, to trust, to love. To try. 

“Yes,” Janis whispers shakily. “Yes, of course I will.” 

Cady winks slyly as a wide smile grows on her face. Janis sniffles as Cady slides the ring onto her finger. It’s clearly expensive, but it feels… right. The diamond isn’t too large or gaudy even though it’s still probably worth more than a month of Janis’ wages. It’s perfect. 

As fake as everything before it has been, the kiss they share is beautifully real. The tears streaming down both their faces are genuine and the sweet nothings, the whispered promises between them are fantastically, wonderfully real. 

“Great acting,” Cady whispers faintly into Janis’ ear. 

“I wasn’t,” Janis whispers back, kissing Cady again. 

“Neither was I.”

“I love you.” 

Cady beams as she gently takes Janis’ face into her hands. Janis can practically feel it oozing out of her eyes and her smile before Cady whispers, “I love you so much.” 

They break apart the slightest bit when they hear the favorite stage whisper from Fiona. “What’s going on?” 

“Shh,” Lennox and Lana hush at the same time. 

“But what’s-” Fiona tries to ask again. Lennox covers her mouth with his hand and nods to his cousin. 

“Auntie Cady and Miss Janis are going to be married,” Lana explains quietly. “And we mustn’t ruin their perfectly romantic moment.”

“Oh,” Fiona says, muffled by her brother’s hand. “Oh! Den she gonna be Auntie Janis!”

“She might,” Lennox agrees. They all snap to attention when Cady looks at them. “Shh.”

Cady laughs and heads to pull all of them into a hug. “You goofies, you don’t have to be so quiet!”

“But your romantic proposal,” Lana says. Janis comes up and ruffles her hair.

“As romantic as it was, your aunt will never love me as much as she loves all of you,” she chuckles. “Our moment was perfect. Now yours.”

The kids giggle and hug Cady back. Lennox beckons Janis over, so she joins with a smile. 

“Auntie Cady?” Fiona asks. 

“Hm?”

“I may come to your wedding?” 

Cady laughs and crouches down to her height. “Well, it won’t be for a while, yet. Probably a few years.”

“Oh,” Fiona says sadly. “I’ll be all gwown up?”

“Not quite that many years,” Cady giggles. “But Janis and I have… some things to figure out before we get married.”

“Oh,” Fiona says again. 

“But… one thing we know for sure…” Cady says. “Is that we want you to be a big part of it. All of you.”

“Definitely,” Janis agrees. Fiona smiles and throws herself at her aunt for the tightest of hugs. Cady hugs her little niece back with a smile.

“Well, now that’s all out of the way, I think it’s the grown-ups turn for presents!” 

—————

three years later 

“I’ve missed this place,” Janis says, looking around fondly at the snow-covered trees. 

“Really?” Cady chuckles. “This didn’t really go in your favor last time.” 

“Eh,” Janis shrugs, smiling as Cady comes up next to her and leans against her arm. “It was pretty nice before… uh, the incident. Didn’t enjoy it in the moment, but the after wasn’t bad either.” 

“I’ve missed it too,” Cady whispers. “I think it’s the place I came to terms with the fact I’m in love with you.” 

“You had to come to terms with that?” Janis teases. 

“You know damn well I did, don’t you be the one trying to stir up drama now,” Cady giggles. 

“I’ll stir up whatever I want,” Janis retorts. “But I’m kidding. I think I did that here too.” 

They stand hand in hand for a while, looking out over the icy lake and reminiscing about how far they’ve come since they were last here. 

“It’s like being inside a snow globe,” Janis says softly. She steps a few paces away from Cady to keep looking around the little island.

It’s time.

Cady waits, but Janis doesn’t turn back around. Cady waits some more. It’s a beautiful place, but there can’t possibly be that much for Janis to appreciate. “Baby.” 

“What?” Janis hums. She finally turns around, and her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. Cady smiles as she covers her mouth with mittened hands and tears start slowly streaming from her eyes. 

“Jay. I know that technically this is a moot point, and everything, but… I have to do this. I have to let you know that you are beyond the most fantastic thing that’s ever happened to me, and that I’m grateful every day that you didn’t tie your shoes that day and you took the time to cuss me out on the sidewalk.”

Janis laughs wetly, smiling at Cady on one knee in front of her. 

“And I have to thank you. For showing me how nice it can be to want something, and genuinely work for something important to me, and loving me in spite of everything. For treating me like a person and reintroducing me to what that means,” Cady says with a sniffle. She wasn’t expecting to cry, but she can’t quite hold the tears back. 

Janis smiles at her, biting her lip to stop herself interrupting this beautiful speech Cady seems intent on giving. 

“And I have to ask. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” Janis whispers, nodding eagerly. “Yes, of course I will.” 

Cady beams and stands, carefully sliding the small band against the one already resting on Janis’ finger. It’s a simple ring, just a thin gold band the same shade as the other, but it somehow holds more meaning. Cady etched a short message on the inside. Just for them to know about. 

To the truest love I’ve ever known. Merry Christmas. 

————-

thank you so much for reading and for making 2022 a half decent year <3 much love to you all!

ezzy

[bigtfoe]

heyaa

I started the 7 day diet challenge (more a change in diet than a diet-diet) and it was def doable, my favorite meal of the day was what I had for breakfast. I think going forward I’ll focus on cooking healthy breakfast with variety, instead of focussing on dinner. Keeping dinner the one thing that’s pretty much the same throughout. Why didn’t I think of that before?

The hardest part was how full I was after I had the salad I had for lunch, but I also gotta remember that my IBD still isn’t entirely stable yet and that when it is, I won’t feel so full and nasty all the time.

Also, I’m gonna try to wake up earlier once my friend leaves. Because I basically eat breakfast at like 2 now, giving her space to get ready and leave the house too, making eating lunch harder, because I could so easily just skip to dinner. Speaking about dinner I had Curry soup, was good and not too filling. Though, the package said I basically ate for 2 people, but I can’t wrap my head around that if the whole package fits in one bowl. I won’t obsess over it either.

I’ve been very consistent with Japanese & Art. I’m on a 32 day streak on Duolingo already, which isn’t necessarily much, but it means I’ve been doing Japanese for like a month consistently. The bigger part of studying Japanese is outside of Duolingo though. I started my art course again about a week ago and I’ve been extremely consistent too. Something I was scared I wasn’t gonna be, so I’m proud af. I have every little thing planned on a daily basis and I don’t have to think much, I just do. At night, I think a lot though. Thinking of getting back into reading before bed, but that would mean I’d have to buy a reading lamp. Soooonn

Plans for next week is spending time with my mom before she leaves for 6 ish months, my final therapy intake and then saying goodbye to bestie.

But this week the squad and I will celebrate other besties bday by solving crimes (playing a crime solving game) and hang out. Just hope I can keep to my diet challenge until Oct 10th, even while staying at besties.

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Yoyo Nagase’s new indie-pop anthem ‘I Hate My Roommate’ writes of someone just a little too frustratingly perfect

Sharing his real life experiences through music, Yoyo Nagase finds himself carrying a journal wherever he goes, penning down ideas with an ease and authenticity that leaves his work resonating all the more deeply. Growing up with parents who were immigrants from Japan and Taiwan and living nearby to Seattle, Yoyo was raised feeling like his cultural differences made it challenging to connect with his peers and fully express his thoughts, now finding a release to be completely himself through music. Writing about his more recent experiences in modern day New York, Yoyo hopes to connect listeners with his themes of fitting in, struggling with mental health, and finding his place in the world, with newest single ‘I Hate My Roommate’ capturing just that.

Bursting in with a feel-good indie-pop intro, ‘I Hate My Roommate’ champions a laid-back instrumental approach, centred around a few vibrant slices of sound. Led by Yoyo’s staple electric guitar that soars with a bright strumming you can’t get enough of, the track revolves around being minimal but utterly anthemic in what it has to offer. Complemented by steady beats, ‘I Hate My Roommate’ lays the foundations for an easy-going soundscape for Yoyo’s vocals to thrive within. Painting a gorgeously captivating story, Yoyo reigns in higher tones with a clean and charismatic delivery that can’t help but leave his hooks ringing in your head for hours after. With a perfect suspenseful pre-chorus pause, Yoyo knows exactly what he’s doing when it finally hits with full-effect, shining in a colourful palette of instrumentals and whacky sound effects. Not only is ‘I Hate My Roommate’ the kind of release you’ll undoubtably need on repeat, but Yoyo conveniently leaves it concluding with a line that loops us right back to the intro, creating the perfect song to play again and again you won’t be able to get enough of.

Ironically to its sensationally positive sound, ‘I Hate My Roommate’ wields a message that’s more cynical. As Yoyo found himself looking to write a story from another perspective, his real-life lovable roommates became the comical target in this pessimistic outburst with a laughable hook you won’t be forgetting anytime soon: ‘I hate my roommate, he’s perfect, he goes out all the time and got a girlfriend from high-school who stays here every night.’ Listing all his frustratingly perfect qualities throughout, Yoyo writes of truly what sounds like not just a faultless roommate but also a faultless person: ‘he wakes up at sunrise and aways makes breakfast omelettes… why is he never disorganised? I swear that he does it all out of spite.’ Choosing to take it as a personal attack that his roommate so contrastingly has it together, Yoyo writes quite the relatable piece about not feeling enough in comparison to others, especially when they seemingly have no visible flaws to pick apart: ‘I’m feeling kind of lonely when I’m at my own house, ‘cause I’ll never be like him, I have to move out.’ Though it comes from a highly comedic perspective, we really felt that ‘I Hate My Roommate’ held a universally relatable message to find comfort in, as often we all find ourselves comparing details with others when we’re all mostly stumbling through equally as clueless - and Yoyo is here to remind you you’re not the only one.

Check out ‘I Hate My Roommate’ for yourself here to fall in love with Yoyo’s catchy indie-pop sound and relatable but laughable message of someone just a little too perfect!

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator