#people should gimme an novel to read

[randompersion]

Not to be rude or anything but

At some point, Novels are basically fanfictions of the creator's own ocs.........

(saying that because holy hell, the ones I've read about sounded so much like what a fanfic writer would write)

more as to why below in the more

MPREG IN ORV‼️

and also that arc where souvishu(I'm so sorry, I forgot his name and his nickname is stuck) had gotten a multiple personality (which was his crowned prince days, if I'm correct)

[graciereadshannigram]

hey fam, welcome to the May 2024 roundup of the best hannigram fics i've read this past month! i read several million words worth of fics, and these were the cream of the crop. i also managed to rewatch the show for the fifth time!! (unemployment has its perks lmao)

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes. as such, it is incredibly subjective.

you can find past rec lists below:

February March April

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

anyway, in no particular order, let's go!

~

Overcoming by purefoysgirl

Word Count: 547.5k Summary: A Victorian A/B/O romance in which Hannibal Lecter is the future Duke of Westvale who has been away at war for the past ten years. His Grandfather has made good on a contract made shortly after Hannibal's birth to procure him a wife. It was supposed to be easy. Naturally, with the Omega, Will, given in the place of his twin sister, it is anything but, because if there is one thing Hannibal Lecter despises, it's Omegas.

This fic had me holding back tears when it ended (after sobbing a couple different times). This was... incredible. What a fucking UNDERTAKING this author committed to, and despite this being a doorstopper of a fic, the plot did not miss a single beat. Just... wow. For the love of god, please read this.

Falls the Shadow by littlesystems

Word Count: 72.4k Summary: "You're a psychiatrist," Will says. "Between your personal and professional lives you must have met thousands of people, you must know dozens of different flavors of pathology. Do you know anyone who would take me as I am? Who would be able to love me," he gestures in a sweeping motion, from his messy hair to his stained knee, "just as I am?" "I do." Bedelia's words shock Will into stillness. “Really?” AKA an AU where Bedelia is Will’s psychiatrist instead of Hannibal, Will makes a series of increasingly questionable life choices, and no one should ever take Bedelia’s advice. Ever.

GIMME MORE STARSSSSSSSS. Bedelia as Will's psychiatrist was brilliant, holy shit. And Will understanding Hannibal and completely accepting him? This is something I see so rarely done in fics. Will always makes him be a lot less manipulative, or at least goes through heavy angst over it. But in this? Will was immediately endeared because that's just who Hannibal is.

Bram Stoker's HANNIBAL by DBMars

Word Count: 586.7k Summary: Love Never Dies. "I have crossed oceans of time to find you." Hannibal + Bram Stoker's Dracula + the classic novel = a new version of the seductive vampire legend. Count Hannibal Lecter loses the thing most precious to him -- the love of his life. God is beyond measure in wanton malice, and matchless in his irony. And so Hannibal renounces God, and becomes an immortal monster that feeds on the blood of the living. 400 years after losing his beloved, Count Lecter meets a man who looks exactly like the husband he lost -- reborn and returned. But who could learn to love a monster?

@dbmars you are a fucking genius. I am honestly still processing and figuring out how to communicate just how amazing this fic was. Do yourself a favor and go read it NOW.

the book of jonah by zipegs

Word Count: 18.1k Summary: A sudden breath of hot wind presses through the trees. For a moment, it feels fresh, alive, and then the dust—the pollen—comes along with it, a parasite hitched on the back of the breeze. Will is ravenous. --- After the fall, Will and Hannibal sojourn in a remote, decrepit cabin in South America while they await Chiyoh’s return. But something here is afflicting them, and it’s only getting worse.

Okay, bear with me. THIS WAS FUCKING AMAZING. I haven't felt this way after consuming a piece of media since I watched Guillermo del Toro's The Autopsy episode. Psychological horror mixed with body horror mixed with smut??? I guess that does it for me. I literally can't stop thinking about this fic. It's been two weeks and I am STILL thinking about it.

Wrong by HotMolasses (@snazzymolasses here on tumblr)

Word Count: 4.2k Summary: Will roughly rubbed his arm across his mouth again, trying to rub it off. Rub off the scent of Alana, after they’d kissed. After she’d kissed him. Or he’d kissed her? It was mutual. Until it wasn’t. Until Will breathed in her scent, so familiar, so Alpha, so…wrong. He’d pulled back forcibly, unable to hide the expression of revulsion on his face. “I…I need to go.” he said, sweeping his coat off the back of a chair on his way towards the door. “Lock up when you leave.” The weather was crap, and it probably wasn’t smart to drive in the snow while he was in pre-heat, but Will didn’t know what else to do. He needed to figure this out, he needed to talk to the only person who understood him. He needed to talk to Hannibal.

So ummmmmmm what do I need to do to turn this into like a whole AU?? As always, this was a total home run. Every single bit of it was perfect.

as soft, as wide as air by BlackKnightSatellite

Word Count: 193.9k Summary: After surviving the fall, Will finds he has far fewer hesitations about joining Hannibal than he would have guessed. Character death, but not Will or Hannibal.

Well shit. I read this immediately after a full rewatch of the show (in four days no less) and THIS is my new season 4 canon. It's brilliant and actually reads like a proper season would. And I love how it gives all the characters a concluded story line. Aside from Will and Hannibal. I also loved how much this explored Will's instability and how his mental state would be affected after he finally slung off all the guilt and allowed himself to fully enjoy killing. All around very good.

The Dispersal Method by @victorineb

Word Count: 16.9k Summary: It’s a normal fall day in the forest for Will Graham. Dead body in front of him, cannibal psychiatrist behind him, the usual. Then Will brushes against the wrong flower, and suddenly neither he nor Hannibal can keep their hands off each other. Now, Will must navigate his way out of the crime scene and Jack’s scrutiny while also trying not to jump Hannibal’s bones at every opportunity. Well, one out of three ain’t bad. Set nebulously in s2, post-Will's release from the BSHCI. Will’s a conflicted honeypot, Hannibal’s a (not-so) secretly-besotted asshole, and nobody has brought enough lube.

THIS IS THE BEST SEX POLLEN I'VE EVER READ. Seriously. The BEST out of pretty much any fandom (at least so far).

Between the Shadow and the Soul by raiast

Word Count: 48.7k Summary: When Will decides to stop taking his suppressants neither he nor Hannibal can deny the attraction between them. After nearly a decade of running from his biology, Will is faced with his primitive Omega urges full force. As if navigating his hormones wasn't enough, there is a killer at large with a very specific motive that seems to only be targeting preteen boys.

This might be my new favorite ABO fic? And one of the better case fics out there.

Sleepover by EarthsickWithoutYou

Word Count: 70k Summary: Set in Season 1, after "Fromage." Will is still confused about his kiss with Alana and seeks romantic advice on how to date and be more "smooth" from Hannibal. Little does he know that Hannibal is madly, passionately obsessed with him, and desperately jealous. Needless to say, Dr. Lecter is all too happy to teach Will everything he knows about love and dating.

This was pretty fluffy, tender, and fun, and it was exactly what I needed after finishing a heavier fic

Alana Finds Out by @victorineb

Word Count: 32.1k Summary: A series of one-shots in which Alana Bloom discovers, in the midst of various tropes, that her boyfriend Hannibal Lecter's feelings for Will Graham run far deeper than friendship. Basically a chance for Alana to shout at the pair of emotionally-repressed idiots whilst still indulging in much Hannigram loveliness.

Oh I loved all of this. This scratched that itch in my brain that loves when Alana realizes that Hannibal has wanted Will all along. And some of these one-shots are genuinely hysterical. Love.

Doctor's Orders by JSinister32

Word Count: 29.2k Summary: “He’s dead on his feet, Jack. I do not understand how you allowed him to come when he’s so obviously ill. There have been too many hours in service of your needs, so many that it seems to have affected any sleep that he may have gotten over the past few weeks. From what you and I have discussed, he has a difficult time shutting his mind down under the best of circumstances and this case today has clearly gotten to him.” The doctor stepped closer to the profiler, peering into his eyes as Will tried to focus. “Will? Can you hear me?” Will Graham has never been particularly good at taking care of himself. When he comes down with a severe cold while working on a string of murders, the new psychiatrist on retainer, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, offers to care for him. Will he be able to keep his feelings in check while Hannibal is in his home? Hannibal Lecter can't get the profiler working for the Violent Crimes unit out of his mind. When given the opportunity to care for him when he's ill, will his feelings for the other man come to light?

TENDER. I want like 70k more words of this. Especially Hannibal putting Jack in his place. Especially Hannibal washing Will's hair. Mmm. There's just something so good about Will letting Hannibal take care of him.

The First Condition of Immortality is Death by OneHandedBooks

Word Count: 92.5k Summary: Hannibal’s heart stopped for the first time after he’d dragged himself and Will out of the frigid ocean onto the rocky shore at the bottom of the bluff.

Oh this was GOOD. Very tender, good characterizations, and loved how Will's hallucinations were portrayed. This was just all a really good exploration of how their relationship could have progressed. This author also is incredibly good at showing the scenes in a way that I could watch them unfold in my head. This felt like a crystal clear movie.

What Do The Dead Know? by OneHandedBooks

Word Count: 7.6k Summary: He looks up at her, haloed by the sun. She could be anyone. No one. St. Abigail, patron of lilies and last chances. AU: What if Will joined Hannibal willingly after the Uffizi Gallery and they shared a few tense weeks in the world before Mason's men finally ran them down? In which Will writes, hallucinates, and succumbs to the dark side and Hannibal is a manipulative, brainwashing, bastard.

cw: Abigail/Will. But does it really count if it's a dream sequence? Regardless, this was something else, off the charts, big fan. The author NAILED the hallucinatory vibe that made this entire fic work so so well. Also, just Will working through his grief for Abigail this way made it that much more intense.

chimera of the chapel by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 211.5k Summary: When Will Graham wakes up from a coma three months after the fall, Jack reveals that Hannibal Lecter didn't survive. Outside the realm of Hannibal's influence, Will decides to discover the full truth behind the world's sudden and seeming falsehood. Everybody seems to hold their own opinion on Hannibal's fate, but Will knows better than anyone that trust and honesty are as elusive as death.

The "presumed dead" trope might just be my new obsession. I adored this fic so much, the plot was incredible, the development of their relationship was spot on, and there were just some very tender moments.

wear my silence like a mask by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 32.k Summary: After running into Hannibal at a Bass Pro Shop, Will is invited to a Masquerade Ball at his estate. Jack encourages him to attend for an opportunity to catch the Ripper. Extenuating circumstances tempt Will down an even graver path; Romance with the Ripper.

Three words: masked anonymous sex. That's all.

The Voices and the Shadows by darlinghogwarts, MaddyHughes

Word Count: 114.6k Summary: “The Chesapeake Ripper? The serial killer? That's a grisly thing to find at the bottom of a drink. Most people say oblivion ...or possibly sex.” Hannibal sips his wine again. “Why are you thinking about a murderer on your birthday, Will? Is it part of your degree?” “He is a part of my degree by my own choice. My supervisor didn’t approve, but…” He sighs. “I insisted.” AU where Will—a Masters student studying the Chesapeake Ripper—gets drunk on his birthday and meets an intriguing man at the bar.

Man, I wish I had had Hannibal as my thesis supervisor in grad school, hot damn. (Mine was pretty much too busy to help with anything, ended up doing it all myself – would not recommend.) This was was damn near perfect. I needed some good old fashioned angst. With a good and fluffy ending. This was a good AU!

Chasing Thoroughbreds by HigherMagic

Word Count: 42.8k Summary: After the fall, Chiyoh rescues Will and Hannibal and takes them to the Lecter home in Lithuania. When Hannibal wakes up, his memories of everything - Will, being the Ripper, everything since Mischa's death - are gone. Will's only problem with that is that killing Hannibal won't be nearly as satisfying if he doesn't understand why. Wrestling with his own feelings, or what's left in the tattered mess of them after the fight with Dolarhyde, Will stays, hoping that Hannibal will recover and give him the opportunity he's waiting for. But there are others who remember what Hannibal did, all those years ago, and they have their own bone to pick.

Ugh pretty sure I love almost everything HigherMagic writes and this did not disappoint. This was fantastic. I was absolutely captivated by Will's development through this and Hannibal was just as good.

Volto Larva by TreacleA

Word Count: 39k Summary: Will is having trouble unwinding after work. Hannibal helpfully suggests somewhere that may assist with that, with absolutely no ulterior motive whatsoever.

So ummmm I'm still blushing (in the best way) over parts of this fic because FUCK this is scorching. Anyway. That's all I've got to say LOL.

[piratekane]

june reading wrap up

it's that time of the month again, folks.

the mission: read only queer books the side mission: read more than just sapphic books the side-side mission: read something besides fantasy/romance mission status: sick

some stats for those following along at home:

- i read 19 books - i attempted one buddy read (but my wife quit on me, guys) - 100% OF MY BOOKS WERE QUEER - still no audiobooks but there's a freshly peeled month ahead of us

here's the reviews:

the bad: - Written in the Stars by Alexandria Bellefleur, bisexual rep people in the circles i've been traveling lately love this book, but i just... didn't. the characters did a complete personality switch about three chapters in. one of them was a manic pixie dream girl. the other was so flat i dreaded reading her perspective. also the brother had NO boundaries and i hate third act breakups due to miscommunication. 1 star - Something Wild and Wonderful by Anita Kelly, achillean rep people also loved this one but my struggle is that i don't think gay men are it for me and also there were some things about Alexie that i just didn't jive with. there was, yet again, another third act breakup that felt contrived. the writing was good and it was clear Kelly knows hiking and they have a love for it. so i enjoyed that part! 2.5 stars - The Prospects by K.T. Hoffman, trans achillean rep everyone and their freaking mother LOVE this book but it just didn't have enough baseball. like, for a book about the first trans baseball player in the professional league, this book was about his love interest's anxiety. gimme baseball!!! and gene straight-up backstabbed luis, i stg if no one else thinks so. 2.5 stars

the great: - The Skin and Its Girl by Sarah Cypher, lesbian rep this is lit-fic and you should know that going into it. once i got used to the writing style, i was hooked on this book. it's an interesting POV and the love story is really the complex love between a daughter and her mother, and the daughter and get great-aunt. like, my brain is still bending around this one. 5 stars - The Z Word by Lindsay King-Miller, queer rep this book emerged from a tumblr prompt and it's incredible. tons of rep (sword lesbian, motorcycle lesbian, drag queen, bisexual mess, nonbinary pizza delivery person) and just a fun fucking time. it's all centered around Pride weekend and begs the question: just what do you do when a zombie outbreak fucks up your festival? 5 stars - Here We Go Again by Alison Cochrun, lesbian rep two teachers go on a road trip with their terminally ill mentor and gosh, this is a specific setup but it works. i cried at the end like a little baby. the characters were fantastic (my favorite was their mentor) and the writing was superb. there's also really great ADHD rep in this and the growth of each character felt natural instead of forced. 5 stars - The Sunbearer Trials by Aiden Thomas, trans rep i knew this book existed and my cousin loves it but i never gave it a fair shake because i was like ONLY SAPPHIC NOVELS ONLY SAPPHIC NOVELS and was averse to reading anything but that but this one. this one is so good. the setting (a contemporary-fantasy latin america) is so lush and rich with detail. teo, the main character, had me rooting for him from the get-go. and the plot twist was so so good. i requested an advanced copy of the sequel through NetGalley and i'm hoping it'll come there. (i also bought Thomas' other novel, because now he is auto-buy author me) 5 stars.

honorable mentions: - A Swift and Sudden Exit by Nico Vincenty, bisexual rep also born from a tumblr prompt and just so much fun. i recommend purchasing this because it's just too good. time traveler meets and immortal (maybe you've seen the prompt). you won't regret it - Elatsoe by Darcy Little Badger, asexual rep an Indigenous girl who can see ghosts goes on a trip to hunt down her cousin's murderer. the writing is so punchy. i loved this one. - On the Same Page by Haley Cass, bisexual rep best friends become lovers through miscommunication. hilarious stuff. i will also read Haley Cass again because the characters were so funny and the plot was so good. - Lakelore by Anna-Marie McLemore, nonbinary rep this one was a mind bender in a good way. each of the characters were really fleshed out in a fun way. the timeline hopping was a little trippy, but i got my feet under me quick. - A Sweet Sting of Salt by Rose Sutherland, lesbian rep a selkie wife retelling. do i really need to say more?

okay this is long i am congratulating you if you got this far. now i need to go hibernate and slow down because i read too much and this month i want to write!

[starqueensthings]

I have NO CLUE how it happened, but somehow my follower count has almost tripled since I launched my last follower milestone celebration 😳 I’m 8 followers away from a big one and it’s blowing my mind. Thank you to all the pals that have put up with my constant bullshit, for letting me openly thirst over pixelated men without complaint or judgement, and for being there to support and reassure me during my TBB Season 2 finale meltdown (which, I am sad to report, is still ongoing with no end in sight lol yay me🙃) I don’t know what I would do without you guys and this fkn gift of a hellsite.

Some of you know, I’ve been working on a couple different multi chapter fics for what feels like a century. Both will probably never see the light of day (I’m way too squirrelly and insecure about my writing to post them anywhere 🙃), but I was thinking I might post one or two standalone chapters to celebrate? I don’t know. Both fics are written novel style with OC’s and a third person perspective which I know a lot of people don’t like. Let me know if you’d ever care to read it, or if I should think of something else? 🤔

Anyways, thank you, I love you and tata for now 🫠

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-a-Long, Queen of Shadows, day 9

I’m so normal about this chapter set you guys

Ch 52

"Not yet," he said roughly, his own breathing uneven. "Not now.”

BOO

BOOOOOOO

Rowan you TEASE. How dare you.

Please, my crops, they’re so dry. Please. Chomp down on her neck. Mark her up, be a beast, I know you want to do it, SO DO IT! You think Aedion has never heard the sound of people having sex in the next room?!? It’s fine! He’s a big boy, he’ll get over it!

You can be as loud as the hell you want when you’re making love, don’t let the neighbors stop you from having fun; they’ll have peace and quiet when you’re good and done.

Ch 53

AGAIN?!?

(SJM: hey are you turned on? Excited to read a chapter about Rowan and Aelin dancing around the idea of maybe potentially consummating?)

(Me: yeah yeah gimme gimme!)

(SJM: *writes about Dorian filled with doom and gloom and sorrow instead*)

(Me: *sigh*)

Who edited this. Who let her get away with this. I need to know where to send the bill for my whiplash.

Ch 54

Heyyyy well this is a surprise

Kaltain beat back the demon

(With fire) (mmmm)(sounds good I’m pretty sure we can muster some fire)

Good job Kaltain, can you tell our baby boy Dorian!

Ch 55

Lysandra god damn it

How dare you get kidnapped, my crops are turning to dust in the field and I’m so thirsty, I can’t be concerned for you right now

You better not be about to be killed violently like Nehemia

(I can’t keep going through all this intensity) (I CAN��T)(my feelings are all over the place)(what is even going ON)

Ch 56

I feel like I am actually being pranked right now

There is no way

There is no way she can keep getting away with this

Is the next chapter going to be another sad Dorian chapter, SMH

how much longer can these two possibly hold out! Another temptation and another postponement… yeesh

Ch 57

I’m getting so sick of all the war and high stakes stuff happening in this book

I AM IN HELL

Like genuinely I can tell this is important and I should care about what’s going on right now and yet, HEAD EMPTY, DON’T CARE

I WISH I CARED

BUT I DON’T

Ch 58

Plot!

I care a little bit

It made me kinda excited when Dorian managed to talk in his own voice, Dorian, what the hell have you been waiting for? The right moment when Aelin happened to be watching?

Lol

Is grandmother Matron fucking the king?

Probably not, since he has a wife

I just want to see Manon eat everybody, actually

Ch 59

My how the turn tables, CHAOL WANTS TO KILL DORIAN NOW

Chaol, are you fucking kidding me? This whole time you have been the only one holding onto hope

How could you let your hopes die now? Don’t you believe in good triumphing over evil? Weren’t you fighting for a better world, for humanity or whatever? What happened, Chaol? I thought you were on my side.

I thought we were doofuses together

Don’t leave me here to be a doofus by myself

I find Manon so sexy especially how she just effortlessly holds Chaol captive. I still think Baba Yellowlegs is the silliest name for any villain, it just rolls off the tongue in such a funny way. Shouldn’t Manon be glad that Baba Yellowlegs died, though? I mean maybe it’s bad when a witch dies because they’re so strong, but the fact that she died is what caused her and the other clans to join together and rival for a new Wing Leader, sooooo actually, Aelin did you a service, baby. If you look at the bright side. If you are capable of looking at the bright side.

Lol

Yeah! fight each other

Hot!

Ch 60

“If he had been one inch farther behind, it would have hit his heart.”

Aw shit be careful Rowan! You can’t be out here getting mortally wounded! I am so sick of it! Get your act together, what do you think this is, an action novel? NO, dummy, it’s a steamy romance, I don’t have time for your bleeding heart heroics! Literally!

The Manon x Aelin fight is pretty hot actually

I am here for it

Guys this chapter set gave me hell

IT GAVE ME HELL

It wasn’t a very LONG set but boy was it hard for me to pay attention lmao, and I KNEW, I KNEW the stuff happening after the Rowaelin tease was important but I was like what the actual fuck is this! Get back in bed! No! I hate myself - I hate everything!

[spainkitty]

Tag Game

Rules: Share 10 facts about yourself and tag 10 other blogs! I want to get to know my mutuals, and the people I follow a little bit :) The facts can be about anything!

@sillyliterature tagged me daaaays ago! Of course I waited until after midnight on a school night, after a 5-day school break, to finally write/post this... /sigh I had fun scrounging for things about me you should know. I hope anyone seeing this gets a giggle.

1. I'm an American living in China, teaching English. I technically teach "Critical Reading and Writing", and a lot of the curriculum I built myself! (I prefer creating teaching materials to teaching and I'll be changing careers soon cuz I so tired)

2. I love cats. Can you tell? My mom has given me a cat-related nickname since birth, SHE loves cats, and so I feel like it's just in the genes now. My metaphorical daughter niece also loves cats, which shows I'm right. I have two cats right now, Birdie & Canela (Canela is the tabby-baby, she has brownish-ginger spots she inherited from her mother, so yes, she is named "cinnamon" on purpose. Birdie is the tortie and the Mama-cat!)

3. I wrote a book! It's published! I'm supposed to write a sequel. It is... almost half-done? A little more than half-done? It's a YA fantasy called "The Coward's Emblem" 🥰 There are dragons! My bestie drew my dragons for me and they're BEAUTIFUL!!! LOOK BELOW!! SO COOL! (I also have commissioned art of the characters by Sabri on insta and they're BEAUTIFUL, too!! If you wanna know more about my actual for real OCs for my real book, pls lemme know!)

4. I've eaten so many Hot Cheetos, I've coughed stomach acid. Maybe living in China is good for me, no Hot Cheetos here... hmmmm

5. The only video games I've ever played from beginning to end on my own are: Harvest Moon: Animal Parade, KOTOR, KOTOR II, and Dragon Age(s). I can only play on Easy/Casual because I'm a crap gamer (I've never finished a Pokémon game), but I really love the stories/characters. ☺️

6. Atton x f!Exile fanart has been my lockscreen for months, and Viktuuri art from Yuri! on Ice! has been my phone bg wallpaper even longer. Maybe since 2016...

7. Rapid Shot Shame-Fame: I meowed through 7th-8th grade. Yes, you read that correctly. I've been a weeaboo. I was in the Hetalia fandom (hence the tumblr name). I was in the SuperWhoLock fandom, too + Teen Wolf, and, my true claim to fame, I went to Dashcon AND I WAS A PANELIST. At THREE panels. No, I was never paid. 🤣

8. I've almost been in a cult twice... maybe three times, but definitely twice. Only the fact I am lazy and didn't live In The Location of the 'Cult' prevented me from actually joining. (Did spend 40 bucks on that book for one of them, though. Ugh. Gimme my 40 bucks back.)

9. I've been to three Disney parks of six. (The Pirates of the Caribbean ride in Shanghai is amazing! Rode it twice! Tron and Soarin' O'er the Horizon are overrated.)

10. I've played DnD since I was 18, and I ALWAYS find a group. In USA, in South Korea, and now in China; I find the nerds and I friend them no matter where I am (yes, I am a nerd, too). My first finished original novel (unpublished) was based on my first ever DnD character: Karik the Master of Many Forms Druid 😀 My current character is Tepin Pallis Cuautli Lozano, a Wild Shaper Druid, the first time I've played a Druid again in almost ten years (3.5e was better, fite me 💪🤜).

[maybeimamuppet]

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

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

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

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

for the rest of you!! tw for 

dysfunctional family dynamics

mentioned homophobia 

mentioned outing 

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

enjoy!!

————

Janis wakes up to the sound of her ringtone. 

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

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

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

“What do-”

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

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

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

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

“Ten only.” 

“Maybe fifteen.”

“Ten!” 

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No! You fucking- oh my god, Janis!” 

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

“He owns half the city, Janis.”

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

“Janis!”

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

“You yelled at a billionaire!” Damian insists.

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

“Billion.”

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

“Tie your damn shoes.”

“Hot! Coffee!”

—————

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

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

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

“Maybe. Who’s asking?”

“In the car, please, madam.”

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

“Miss, I really must insist-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What-”

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

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

“I need you to pretend to date me.” 

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

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

Janis blinks at her. 

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

“I’m still… why… why me?” 

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

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

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

“Propose?!” Janis yelps.

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

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

“Might help if you tied your shoes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was the hope, yes.”

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

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

“A hundred-”

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

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

“Pretend to love me for three weeks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

“Hm?” Janis hums softly.

“Why are you following me home?” 

“I need you right now,” Janis mumbles. 

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

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

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

“So what’s-”

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

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

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

“…Say what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A gentleman?” 

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

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

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

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

“Pocket square?”

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

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

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

“Checked, eh?” 

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

“Her?”

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

“A business proposal?” Damian asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

“You what?!“ 

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

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

“I…” Damian says eventually. “Huh?”

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

“What were you thinking?!”

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

“How much?”

“Hundred grand,” Janis mumbles. 

“A hundred grand?!” Damian yells. 

“Shut up! You have neighbors!” 

“A hundred thousand dollars, Janis!” 

“Shut up! I know!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is she pretty?” Damian asks quietly.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, shut up!” 

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A letter. 

Janis,

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

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

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

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

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

Regards,

Cady Heron

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jesus fuck!” Janis yelps. 

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

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

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

“Uh… sure,” Janis says. “What-”

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

“Thanks?” Janis says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand,” Cady nods. “Um…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Janis yelps.

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

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

“Uhm… do you… want?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good,” Janis squeaks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”

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

“Mmhmm,” Janis hums. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, um…” 

“Claire, miss,” the maid replies.

“Hi, Claire,” Cady says. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, thank you… um…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As they always do,” her mother says. 

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

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

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

“Um…”

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

“This is Janis Sarkisian. My girlfriend.” 

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

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

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

“Alone, dear?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I, er… did my best.” 

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

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

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

“Holy shit,” Janis whispers. 

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

“Yeah, probably.”

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

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

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

——-

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

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

“I got lost,” Janis says sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Janis chuckles. “Why?”

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

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

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

“Your mother seems really judgmental.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything?” Janis questions. 

“Anything,” Cady confirms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t?”

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

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

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

“You have an app?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds handy,” Janis says. Cady nods. 

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

-

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

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

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

“That’s it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair enough.” 

—————-

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

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

“That impish look scares me,” Cady says. 

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

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

“That’ll work,” Janis nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That does help,” Janis says. 

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

“Date,” Janis squeaks. “Right.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Janis chuckles. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was I rude?” Cady asks softly. 

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

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

“You okay?”

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

“What?” Janis laughs. 

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

“Jesus,” Janis tuts. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not usually?” Cady asks. 

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

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

“…I’m not sure.” 

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

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

Cady gasps indignantly. “How rude!” 

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

“Hmph.” 

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

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

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

“They all smell so nice,” Cady says. 

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon?” 

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

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

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

“No, no,” she says. 

“We insist,” Cady says. 

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

“What? No you aren’t,” Cady says. 

“Try me.” 

“I’m the billionaire here, honey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?” the woman replies squeakily. 

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

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

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

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

“Oh, there’s too much-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ever?”

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

“Oh,” Cady says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you have any collections?” 

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

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

“Yeah.” 

“Just yeah?”

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

“Clever.” 

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

Cady hums sadly. “Are you any good?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it?”

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

“She did the same,” Janis says softly. 

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

“How do you-”

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

“This time?” 

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

“You were kidnapped?!” 

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

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

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

“Like… the secret service the president gets?” 

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

“You should write a book.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” Cady says softly. 

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

“I don’t like horses,” Cady mumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” 

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

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

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

“True. You sneak,” Cady giggles. 

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

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

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

“Janis?” 

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

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

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

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

“Stars are pretty good,” Janis nods.

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

“That you… like… stars.” 

Cady rolls her eyes. “Brilliant.” 

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

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

“Anything, huh?”

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

“Skydive,” Janis says immediately. 

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

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

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

“Hey, that’s two!”

“So you’ll get two, come on.” 

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

“What?!” 

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

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

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

“You’re very strange,” Cady hums. 

“Says you.” 

“And rude.”

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

“If you must,” Cady grumbles crankily. 

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

“Smile?”

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

“Why?” 

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

“Oh.” Cady says softly. “Um…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I suppose we will. My turn.”

“Hey, I get two questions!” 

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

“Fine,” Janis pouts. “Ask away.” 

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

“Damian?” 

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

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

“You what?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He would’ve for your sake,” Janis snorts. “I told him I’d try to get your autograph for his Christmas present.”

“He sounds lovely,” Cady says. “Might need more than an autograph.” 

“He can be lovely when he wants to. Most of the time he’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Do you talk about all your friends so kindly?” Cady asks teasingly. 

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles. “It’s how I show affection.”

“Hm,” Cady hums. They both startle a bit when they suddenly come to a stop. They look up to see that they’ve finished their allotted loop around the downtown area already. “Oh, it’s over.” 

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” Janis says, loud enough for the driver to hear her now. “Come on, we should finish shopping and head home.” 

Janis climbs out of the sleigh first, and gently picks Cady out after her. She gives her a spin and kiss before she sets her gently on her feet. 

“Thank you,” Cady says to their driver.

“Not a problem, miss.”

“What is your goal for donations this year?” Cady asks, still making sure to stay well out of the horse’s reach. 

“We’re hoping to hit ten thousand over this season, that should get us through the next year,” he replies. “Any amount you can give is appreciated.” 

“Mm,” Cady hums pensively. “Let me make a call.” 

“Um… okay,” the driver shrugs. Janis watches as Cady steps out of earshot and pulls out her phone. She can just about make out the words ‘ten thousand’ and ‘yes, I’m serious’ from this distance. 

“Right,” Cady says as she hangs up and returns. “I obviously can’t give you that much money in person, but we can start with… oh, this,” she says, forking over another huge wad of money. “And someone from my lawyer’s office will be visiting your ranch in the coming days to make sure it’s all up to standards and give you the rest of the money, if that’s alright with you?” 

“The… the rest of the ten grand, miss?” 

“We’ll call it fifteen for luck, and in case the people here are more stingy than you’re accounting for,” Cady hums. “As long as you’ll use it to keep Butterscotch in the manner to which she’s accustomed.” 

“Most of it, absolutely,” the driver says, seeming a bit shaken by what he’s just heard. “A-are you serious, ma’am?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Of course I am,” Cady sighs. “Anyway. Merry Christmas, thank you.”

“M-merry Christmas,” the driver replies, waving back at them as they head back towards the market hand in hand. 

“Are you allowed to drop this much money on random strangers?” Janis asks quietly. “This is all adding up really quick.”

“I’m a billionaire, Janis,” Cady chuckles. “What we’ve spent today is just a fraction of what I earn in a month. And to answer your question, I may do whatever I like with it once it crosses from my father’s hand to mine, thank you very much.” 

“Alrighty then,” Janis nods. 

They continue browsing the booths as they slowly start making their way back to the car. They each pick up a few things. Cady gets a small stack of books from a miniature bookstore and explains they’re all for one of her nieces. Janis picks up a few things she hopes, based on what little information the binder provided her, Cady’s family members will like. 

They dodge paparazzi as best as they can in the meantime, trying to make their conversation look more interesting than it actually is and adding in the occasional kiss or small cuddle. 

With a bottle of wintery artisan perfume for Janis’ mother, they decide to conclude their shopping for the day. 

The driver is waiting for them when they return to the car. He helps them deposit their bags of goodies into the trunk next to the cookies and opens the back door for them to climb in. 

“Well, that was satisfactory, I think,” Cady sighs as she pulls off her beanie inside the warm car. “Nicely done.” 

It’s almost odd, now, being on the other side of the large car from Cady after spending hours practically glued to her side. Or her lips. 

“Thanks,” she replies. “How often do we have to do that?” 

“Oh, not very,” Cady replies. “If we do it too often it’ll come across as fake. So… once a week at most, if that.”

“Great,” Janis sighs, slumping down in her seat. It took more out of her than she was expecting. 

“You can rest now, if you’d like. I’ll wake you up when we get back.” 

“Yes, please and thank you,” Janis hums contently, pulling off her mittens to rest over her eyes and settling in for a short cat nap. 

God, being rich is exhausting. 

—————

Janis calls Damian when they get back to the… hotel? House? Both. 

“You’re such a good actress!” Damian yells as soon as she puts the phone to her ear. She winces a bit at the loud noise directly against her eardrum. 

“What?”

“The pictures and stuff from the date you went on!” Damian says. “You guys really look like you’re in love with each other.” 

“Those are already out?” Janis asks.

“Yeah? When was the date?”

“We literally just got back,” Janis says in confusion. “I mean, it’s like a half hour drive and it took me another five minutes to get up to our room, but… like, literally just crossed the threshold.” 

“Seriously? Damn, that is quick,” Damian says. “You guys make a cute couple.” 

“Don’t get too attached,” Janis chuckles.

“Where is Cady now? Is she listening in? Are we being spied on?” 

“Not by her, but probably. I don’t think the security people trust me,” Janis says. “I’m half expecting them to give me a pat down every time I leave our room. Cady’s… working… somewhere, I dunno. She went off in another direction when we got back.”

“Weird,” Damian says.

“Nobody else is here, we don’t have to keep up appearances,” Janis replies. “So… did the pictures have, like, words? To accompany them?”

“Some,” Damian says casually.

“And am I being slandered? Dragged through the coals?” Janis asks. “I’m too scared to look for myself. You have to be my window to the outside world through all of this.” 

“I accept and I am deeply honored.” 

“You already talk like Cady does,” Janis snorts. 

“Wait, seriously?” Damian asks.

“Yeah, everyone in her family I’ve met so far talks like they’re stuck in a novel or something. Fancy words.” 

“Who have you met so far?” Damian asks. 

“Just her and her parents. Her brothers are supposed to come over the next couple weeks,” Janis says. 

“How are the ‘rents?” 

“Some of the tensest people I’ve ever seen,” Janis says. “They hate me.”

“Aren’t they supposed to?” Damian asks.

“Yeah, but not yet,” Janis replies. “What are they saying online?” 

“Um… gimme a sec,” Damian says. “Cady Heron in a relationship with… those bitches! You are not trailer trash!”

“They said that?” Janis replies, unable to hold back a laugh. “I mean, I guess I kind of am by comparison.” 

“Oh, someone on Twitter says you’re pretty,” Damian says. “Um… have you ever done crack?”

“What?!”

“Never mind,” Damian says. “Might be worth a try, though.”

“What the hell are you-”

“Definitely stay away from the internet for a while,” Damian interrupts. 

“Okay? What does that have anything to do with crack?” 

“Maybe just avoid both.”

“Noted,” Janis sighs. “Are they all that bad?”

“Most of them,” Damian says. “But hey, what do they know?” 

“You are always saying they don’t know anything,” Janis says. 

“What is she like?” Damian asks. Janis can practically see him lying on his stomach and kicking his feet back and forth like a teenage girl sharing the latest gossip. 

“She’s… she… uh…”

“Beyond words?”

“In some ways,” Janis says. “She’s just… uh… she… I-I don’t know. She’s much different than she sounded in all the news stories you read me.”

“I told you! I told you they’ve always been wrong about her, I knew it!” Damian cheers. 

“She’s… interesting. And she’s, like, surprisingly easy to make conversation with,” Janis continues. “And she seems… nice. I guess. She bought all of the snickerdoodles from a baker like it was totally normal.”

“It probably is for her,” Damian says. “Were they at least good cookies?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janis says. “Nothing on yours, but a close second.” 

“That is the correct answer,” Damian replies. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too. It’s weird not being home,” Janis sighs. “I mean, this place is amazing, but it’s just… I dunno, not normal.” 

“It’s only one year,” Damian comforts. “And you know damn well we aren’t celebrating until you’re here.” 

“You guys are ridiculous,” Janis chuckles. “God, what does my mom have to say about all this?” 

“She doesn’t know yet,” Damian says. 

“Good.”

“She might not even find out unless one of us tells her, your mom’s never been one for social media or anything.” 

“That’s true,” Janis sighs.

“What did you tell your family?”

“That I’m spending Christmas with a girl and not to check the news for three business months.” 

“Smooooooth,” Damian replies. “You know Julie’s gonna find out.”

“I know,” Janis sighs. “I’ll think of some better way to explain this to them without getting them hounded by lawyers.”

“If today is anything to go by you’re gonna want to get on that quick.”

“It’s scary, honestly,” Janis says with an ironic chuckle. “Don’t they have to edit the pictures first?”

“Gossip waits for no man.” 

“Sadly true.” 

Janis looks up when there’s a faint knock on the door. Cady comes in behind it, but ducks back out when she sees Janis is on the phone. 

“Dame, I gotta go,” Janis says, motioning Cady back in when she peeks through a crack left in the door. “I’ll call you back later.”

“Is it her?”

“Yes,” Janis huffs with an affectionate eye roll. “Love you.”

“Tell her I say hi! And that I really admire her strength!” Damian says. “Oh, love you too. Bye.”

“Hi,” Janis sighs as she hangs up the phone and plops it into her lap. 

“Hello,” Cady greets. “Sorry for interrupting.” 

“It’s fine. Nothing important,” Janis shrugs. “Just Damian.”

“Your friend?” 

“Yeah. He says hi, by the way,” Janis chuckles. 

“How sweet. Hello back,” Cady says with a quiet giggle. 

“What’s up?”

“Bad news,” Cady sighs. “My parents want you to have dinner with us tonight.”

“Okay,” Janis says. “Is… is that it?”

“I was hoping I could save you a while longer, I did my best to get you out yesterday, but they’re absolutely insistent about tonight and-”

“Cady,” Janis chuckles. “It’s fine. Part of the deal, I’ll manage. How bad could it be?” 

—-

Janis quickly learns exactly how bad it can be. 

The first ten minutes or so pass in absolute silence, which would be nice if it didn’t feel like an omen of things to come. The only sounds are muffled (and very polite) chewing, forks hitting impossibly fancy plates, and Cady occasionally inhaling like she’s about to speak before she decides against it. 

At least the food is good. Really good. Janis is willing to bet something like this would cost her at least a hundred dollars in a restaurant. And she gets it for free every night for almost a month. 

She locks eyes with Cady across the table at one point. Cady looks back as she chews a mouthful of her salmon. Janis tries to surreptitiously shift her eyes to Cady’s parents, trying to ask if she should make conversation or something without speaking. Cady shakes her head slightly and gives a small nod in the direction of her mother. 

Janis dares to sneak a glance as she cuts off another bite of her own fish. Mrs. Heron’s eyes are firmly on her plate. Janis half expects to see it spontaneously combust under the intensity of her glare. 

Her fish isn’t faring much better. For a woman who puts such emphasis on manners and politeness, she’s absolutely mangled her poor dinner. Janis quickly learns why as she sees her sawing at the delicate fish with terrifying aggression. Aggression that Janis knows is entirely aimed at her. 

Janis jumps a bit and tries to play it off when Cady’s father suddenly clears his throat a bit and says, “So… um.”

“Janis, father,” Cady supplies quietly. 

“So, Janis, tell us about your family,” Mr. Heron continues. 

Janis freezes with her fork halfway to her mouth and politely rests it back on her plate. “Oh, um… it’s much less interesting than yours, sir. I have a little sister, she’s eighteen. Graduating high school in the spring. And then there’s my mom.”

“And your father?” Mrs. Heron asks in a tone Janis can only describe as snooty. 

“My biological father passed away when I was four,” Janis says softly. “And my stepfather is… erm, we don’t know exactly, but somewhere in Arizona. He left when I came out.” 

Mrs. Heron’s eye twitches slightly at the mere mention of a stepfather, especially an absent one. Mr. Heron seems to regret opening a conversation at all and quietly returns to his dinner. Janis looks at Cady apologetically, but she shrugs and mouths, “You tried.” 

“The salmon is amazing,” Janis says, giving another feeble attempt at… something. 

“Thank you,” Mr. Heron says when neither his wife or daughter respond. “We pride ourselves on our chefs.” 

“I see why.”

Everyone gives a small nod and continues eating. It feels almost like a scene in a movie before a car comes crashing through a wall or something else spectacularly dramatic. 

But an astounding amount of nothing happens, and the rest of the meal passes in silence. 

—-

“So. See what I mean now?” 

“Oh my god,” Janis groans as she crawls into the large bed next to her. “That felt like if I breathed wrong some nuclear missile was gonna go off or something. Tensest meal of my life.”

“You’ll want to get used to that,” Cady chuckles. 

“I’ll be able to do brain surgery after this trip. Face anything with steady hands.”

“This was actually a more pleasant dinner,” Cady says thoughtfully. “I’m honestly surprised my mother hasn’t torn into you yet.”

“Me too. I’m waiting for it every time I turn a corner,” Janis chuckles. 

“I’m sorry,” Cady says suddenly. “I don’t want you to be so… on edge.”

“Part of the job,” Janis replies. “I can handle whatever she says, I just don’t like the whole element of surprise.” 

“Are you sure? I knew I should’ve prepared you for them more-”

“Cady, it’s fine,” Janis says. “It’s three weeks. They might be taking years off my life in terms of my cardiac health every time we talk, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m very glad it’s you that bumped into me on that sidewalk.”

“Me too,” Janis says. “But you totally bumped into me.”

“I did not!” Cady scoffs.

“You did! You were off like a shot, you ran me over!” 

“Wouldn’t have been an issue if you weren’t standing in the way,” Cady huffs, crossing her arms over her chest as they both stare up at nothing in the darkness. 

“I was only in the way because I needed into the building you were catapulting yourself out of.”

“And you could’ve waited your turn!”

“The windows are tinted, I couldn’t see you until the door almost broke my nose!” Janis defends. 

“I did not almost break your nose.”

“You could’ve,” Janis pouts. “Or my ass.”

“Your ass is fine.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey!”

—————

The rest of that week passes relatively smoothly. Meals are always awkward, but Janis has close to free reign to explore the impossibly large property at her will. Damian gets lots of pictures of the mountains, and Janis takes a few extra to use as references for paintings later. 

The next Saturday, Janis gets to meet the first of Cady’s brothers. She and Cady are chatting in the parlor and munching on the (very few) leftover snickerdoodles from their date at the market. 

“Auntie Cady!” a voice calls. Janis watches as Cady smiles and turns around. She smiled with her eyes. Janis hasn’t seen that before. And god, does she want to see it again. 

“Who is this?” Cady asks, looking at a young boy and an even younger girl. 

“It’s me! It’s Lennox!” the boy says. 

“Mm,” Cady hums suspiciously. “I don’t think so. The Lenny I know is only about this tall.” She holds up a hand to demonstrate. “And he wasn’t missing any teeth!”

“I grew! And I lost my tooth, see? The tooth fairy brought me stock in Netflix!” 

“You grew?!” Cady asks like it’s the most shocking thing in the world. “Let me see. Same hair.” She ruffles it with a hand. “Same eyes. Same cute smile. Lenny?!” 

“Yeah!” Lennox says eagerly. Cady laughs and wraps him in a hug. 

“My favorite little guy, I missed you!” she says. “And if that’s Lenny, then… this must be Fifi!” 

The little girl shrieks happily as Cady picks her up and spins her around, her blonde braids whirling around behind her. 

“Hi,” Cady grins when they come to a stop, looking at the girl still in her arms.

“Hi, Auntie Cady,” the girl replies. “You gotta, um… you gotta… um… meet, um… Nomie.” 

“Oh, my god, I do,” Cady says. Janis watches in slight confusion as she kisses the little girl’s cheek and puts her back down. A woman approaches with a tiny baby in her arms. “Oh, she’s beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” the woman replies. “Naomi Charlotte.” 

“Hi, Naomi,” Cady murmurs, gently stroking the baby’s head. “Happy almost first Christmas!” 

“Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?” Cady asks. The woman nods and gently passes the baby over. Janis is watching curiously until she feels a small finger prodding at her leg. 

“Hey,” Janis greets.

“Who are you?” Lennox asks suspiciously. The girl crosses her arms behind him like a hype man. 

“I’m Janis.”

“Oh my god,” Cady gasps. “I completely forgot! Janis, this is my nephew Lennox, and my nieces Fiona and Naomi,” she says, gesturing between the girl and the baby. “And my sister-in-law Madeleine, and my brother Callum.” 

“But who’s she?!” Lennox insists, pointing to Janis. 

“Lennox,” Callum scolds. “Manners.”

“Excuse me miss,” Lennox says politely. “Who are you?”

Callum rolls his eyes fondly. “Apologies, we’re working on it. Callum Heron, pleasure.”

“Janis Sarkisian. Same,” Janis replies, trying not to wince at the very firm handshake she receives. 

“Janis is… my girlfriend,” Cady says, walking over and smiling at her. She leans in for a kiss, which Janis returns. 

“Girlfriend?!” Madeleine says. Janis braces. Are they homophobic?  “And you didn’t tell me?! Cady! What happened to sisterhood?”

“You know how it is, Maddie,” Cady chuckles. “I’ll tell you everything over tea tomorrow. I promise.” 

“You’d better. Give me my baby back,” Madeleine says. 

“No. My Naomi,” Cady refuses, turning away when Madeline approaches to take her back. “Fine. I’ll just take… this one!” 

Fiona squeals happily as Cady picks her back up. “Auntie Cady!” 

“What?” Cady says, holding Fiona on her hip. 

“Daddy’s mean.”

“Daddy’s mean?” Cady says, grinning at her brother. “Well, we can’t have that. What did he do this time?” 

“He maked me sit in my car seat the whole entiwe time!” Fiona says in exasperation. “And! And-and he says I don’t getta have any mowe cookies!”

“No more cookies?” Cady gasps in horror. 

“Today! I said no more cookies today,” Callum huffs. “She’s already had six!” 

“Six cookies?” Cady asks, looking at the little girl just to put the whole story together. 

“Wittle cookies,” Fiona defends. 

“Little cookies,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “Well. Far be it from me to undermine your daddy’s parenting.”

“Auntie Cady!” Fiona whines. “Pwease?” 

“But I suppose,” Cady says dramatically. “That…”

“I don’t count,” Janis says, catching onto where Cady’s going with this. Something tells her getting into these kids’ good books is very important, so she offers the little girl one of the cookies she and Cady brought. “Here. I’ll undermine your dad’s parenting anytime.” 

“Thank you Miss Janis!” Fiona says eagerly, wiggling to be put down. Janis grins and accepts the offered handshake the toddler gives. 

“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Janis chuckles. Lennox gets a cookie too, and they both bounce up and down eagerly. “Sorry, Callum.”

“At least Cades gave it a rest,” Callum sighs. “Merry Christmas, baby sister.”

“Merry Christmas, big brother,” Cady replies with a conniving smile. 

“We’re gonna go get settled in. Nice to meet you, Janis,” Callum says. 

“You too,” Janis nods. 

“Auntie Cady, will you play with us?!” Lennox asks eagerly. “I brought my new fire truck!” 

“Oh my gosh, of course! But you should go get settled in with your family first. Come find me in a little bit and I promise I’ll play fire truck with you,” Cady replies. Lennox pouts the slightest bit, but he follows his father towards their rooms. She crouches down as Fiona tugs on the leg of her pants. “What’s up, Fifi?” 

“I like Miss Janis,” Fiona whispers conspiratorially. She’s not quite gotten whispering down, since everyone around can hear her. Cady smiles.

“I like her too. Go find your family,” Cady whispers back, kissing her niece’s cheek and sending her off to find her parents with a gentle pat on her back. “Sorry about that, I should’ve warned you.”

“No, it was fine. You can’t know when any social interaction is going to happen. They seem nice,” Janis says.

“Yeah,” Cady says, grinning faintly at the carpet.

“You really love those kids,” Janis says quietly. “Was cute.”

“I do,” Cady nods. “They’re exhausting, but they’re sweet kids.”

“How old are they?”

“Lenny’s six,” Cady says. “Crazy. He was born yesterday. Fifi’s three, and Naomi is… ffffffour months? Around there.” 

“Cute. Perfect spacing,” Janis chuckles. “Does anyone else have kids?” 

“Yeah, Charlie and Clif both have kids too,” Cady says. “You’ll meet them later. They’re slightly less tiring.” 

“Cool,” Janis replies. Cady smiles at her and nods. 

“Cool.”

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Random ask that may or may not be foreshadowing; if you were to completely drop persona cold turkey, what other rpg series do you think you'd hyperfixate over instead?

Hmmmmmm hard to say.

If it's something I've yet to play then I dunno.

But if it's going back and playing older games I've played the hell out of.....hmmm let's start there I guess:

I like Pokemon, but I'm not gonna compete to be the biggest know-it-all with that franchise (esp with the amount of conflicting info and canons and possibly mistranslations). It's astronomical compared to MegaTen.... (what applies to Pokemon can also be applied to Digimon and Yu-Gi-Oh too....)

Dragon Ball.......Tbh I'm not that into fighting games, maybe if I ever get a Legacy of Goku 4 fkjdlajf; Gimme some good RPG DB games and I'm down (I have Kakarot and the Legacy of Goku games tho)

There's really no plot/character/story analysis I can do on the Tony Hawk games.....

I like DMC and Nioh, but I feel like those games and fandoms are more focused on the gameplay mechanics....plus they aren't exactly easy games to just "kick back and enjoy" I have to really concentrate which is draining...... (more so Nioh than DMC, but I'm more invested in Nioh than DMC so that's an issue TT0TT)

I love Assassins' Creed, but even I know the amount of content I'd have to hard core consume (between AC and AT LEAST Watch Dogs......oof). Just thinking about it might explode my brain. u_u

Love Rule of Rose, but other fans have dug deeper done everything with it. So there's nothing for me to really bring to the table.

.hack.....maybe I could get back into that? My knowledge is mostly in the novles/manga I've read tho. ("But Silly! Isn't that technically a fantasy game?" I mean.....yes but it's modern day chars playing a video game. I dunno I always found that idea novel alongside 'oh people are dying' mystery. It's why I watched SAO because it reminded me of .hack! ....I'm not getting into SAO tho >_>)

Most heavy fantasy.....probs not likely but not impossible. The thing with Persona/Megaten is that they usually have a very "grounded in real life" kinda vibe going on. Which was nice because it felt like less stuff I had to memorize to understand the world. Plus it was more of a vibe I liked..... (but I'll mention some of the well known franchises....mostly cause they are the ones with the most entries to get into)

Love KH but I don't really wanna deep dive into it (I think the writing was best in KH1 and CoM, I think Sora's char has really devolved over the games, and I hated 3D and KH3). I am keeping an eye on KH4 and maybe even Verum Rex (which I'm pulling for us to get, outta all the FF games, FFvs13 was always one I was super interested in).

FF.....I'll play them, but I'm not that invested into them. (12's ok, 7's ok, 7R's ok but I need to finish those three first.... I liked 15 even tho it was messy, I hate 13 with a passion, I should try 10 cause it reminds me of Destiny Islands. 15 and 10 are the best contenders for me to be invested in tbh).

Tales of...... tbh Xillia always interested me the most. I should go through my backlog......I'm like halfway through Arise so I should probs pick that back up.

Maybe I should try Ys? Or finish the Trails of/Legends games I have too, tho I'm not very invested in that that.

Atelier series.....I should finish the games I have of that....then again....it's related to Mana Khemia right? I actually played and liked the first game of that (I sucked at it so I don't think I finished, that and I think I got P4 within that year so that ended up consuming me not long after)......I should give Mana Khemia another chance.

Oh there's also the Lunar series......I was always interested in that after I was graced with the game Lunar Dragon Song as a kid. :'D Weep for me yes, weep. I know. u_u IYKYK

I like Harvest Moon/Story of seasons.....but not enough to like...deep dive into stuff.

I mostly play Slime Rancher for the gameplay loop than the analysis too tbh.....

Far Cry 5 is a heavy contender. I did get lucky, outta all of the FC games....at least this one not only got a direct sequel with New Dawn (even tho it deals more with the Highway men than the cultists *sobs*), it also got a tie-in DLC with FC6......plus I got that novel, and the little bit of supplementary material. The issue, which is a double edge sword....is that it ends there. There's a lot of side content I could probs find and dissect, but once I find it all it ends.

At least with Persona, I can expect the world to keep going and expanding (either it's main continuity or the larger continuities in general). FC I'm not sure.....they might have diff timelines but no in an interactive way like MegaTen does.....

I guess I can try a swing at Mind=0, Tokyo Xanadu, Caligula 1/2, or Monark. Both with finishing and attempting to hyperfixate....but they just don't hit the same. Plus I run into a similar problem as with FC5....it's pretty much it when it ends (and unlike FC5, I doubt those games have as much content).

.hack might be a heavy contender.....

I am very Avatar-pilled atm....and I'm going through those games. Which was something I meant to do like 10 years ago during my last hyperfixation on the franchise (but I think I got distracted by PQ1 jklsdfj;). So maybe expect a small deep dive on those? Platinum's Korra will probs reign supreme for me tbh klfdjsa;f

Hmmmm I've heard good things about Suikoden......same with Phantasy star, Chrono trigger, Mother/earthbound.....maybe actually finish FE 3Hs......

Tldr; I dunno. At least game wise. Other media (either exclusively a diff format or one that's multimedia'd)? That's a bit more easier/open ended. (I'm juggling Atla/Korra, Addams' Family, and Naruto like a lil' court jester, we'll see how this goes)

[elfwreck]

Things ChatGPT might actually be good for:

First drafts of business contracts - they'll need serious review, but they might substantially cut down the necessary lawyer time.

First drafts of company handbooks - for those, most companies want them written in boilerplate & autocomplete. They can touch up the sections that make their company unique, but a general policy of "wear business clothing at the office" does not need creativity.

Code. Lots of coders are using AI. You ask it to make code that does a function, and it throws some code at you, and you put it into the program and test it. And as noted, since it's a bullshit autocomplete generator, sometimes the code doesn't work. That's fine. You keep the part that does and ask for a new version of the part that doesn't. Saves hours of writing and tinkering with tiny bits of phrasing. [feel free to insert rant here about how code is practical and should not be covered by copyright, but that's a whole separate issue.]

Solo TTRPG - players are using AI chat programs to generate location descriptions, encounters with NPCs, magic items, and so on. There is a problem with this - you don't get new & innovative stuff from ChatGPT - but if what you wanted was "just gimme 250 words about The Spooky Castle On The Hill," it's great.

Interesting random item lists - Remember before ChatGPT when people would post "AI-generated list of Harry Potter spells" and so on? Or lists of song titles? If you want prompts to spark your creativity, AI may be able to come up with those.

Extrapolative reports based on data - you feed it charts and numbers and it tells you in plain language what they show. Right now, this would need heavy review - as noted, the damn AI will LIE ABOUT DATA. But. "Check this two-page synopsis for lies" may be a lot faster than "review all of your data and write a two-page synopsis from scratch."

In time, Chatbot AIs may be able to come up with decent story summaries - you feed it the fic; it gives you a one-paragraph description. You decide how much of that to use, and whether to change it because the focus you want is something else.

Item #1 - drafts of business contracts - is so fucking useful that, on its own, that would guarantee the chatbots are never going away.

What chatGPT will never be good for:

Creating fiction. Some fic authors have noted that "I keep feeding it shipping starters, and it keeps turning them into het when the romance kicks in." Because it's been trained on half a million het romance novels and maybe a scant handful of other ones. It recognizes the shape of "romance story" and knows that those involve a boy kissing a girl. And it's got similar problems with every other mainstream fiction genre. It mixes what already exists; it can't do groundbreaking. The closest it gets is "mixes two different likely-cliche tropes in a way that you, personally, have not seen before." And you could use that as a base for a good story, but ChatGPT can't, because other than the occasional flash of "huh I've never seen those two pieces next to each other," it's going to fall back into its "same as it ever was" rut.

Creating new art. See above. Same problem. It's getting used to "make art" now, because unlike fiction, there's a lot of art individuals haven't seen. I have not read all the Harlequin Romance novels ever... but I have read enough of them to be familiar with their tropes; books with those tropes are boring. I have not seen all the Dragons Flying Over Mountains art ever - AND a scramble of existing tropes is still going to look interesting to me. But like fiction: other than the occasional "wow, you can put BOTH of those together on a page???" moment, it's not making anything new. It's not combining symbols in a way that's meant to hit your deep psyche; it's not starting with a familiar, almost cliche setting and adding the one element that will make you rethink the background.

Anything for business beyond the first draft level. Even when they get better - even when they get frighteningly good - any company that relies on AI-generated contracts, handbooks, tutorials, or reports is setting itself up for (a) lawsuits and (b) financial ruin. Because the AI is not a person, does not have business priorities, does not actually have the ability to "comply with the law" when it sets up a contract.

(Give it three years and wait for the hilarious lawsuit when one company sues another over some clause buried in the AI-generated contract that nobody noticed until some intern pointed it out at a board meeting.)

Just on a whim, because I know that Alcibiades is one of the weirdest and funniest characters in ancient Greek history, I asked ChatGPT "What's the weirdest thing Alcibiades ever did?"

ChatGPT came back with the details of something Alcibiades (henceforth referred to as 'Alci' so I don't have to keep typing it out) was accused of, but acquitted of.

When I pointed out that he had been acquitted and may not have actually done this thing, Chat GPT apologised and said, "yes, he was acquitted", and then went on to tell me that, nonetheless, the event was significant because it made Alci flee the city.

Alci did not flee the city, he was sent away on a military expedition, which was exactly what he'd wanted and asked for. When I pointed that out, ChatGPT apologised again for being wrong.

I asked again for weird things he might actually have done, and was told one version of a story I've heard before about how Alci stole some stuff from a friend. ChatGPT's version was different from what I'd heard, though, so I mentioned that, and only then did ChatGPT acknowledge that there were different versions of the story. As part of its apology and correction, ChatGPT said that it did not always have access to all information - but then proceeded to provide details of the version of the story I'd heard before, showing that it did, in fact, have access to that information.

I asked again, what is the weirdest thing Alcibiades ever did? ChatGPT gave me an answer, which was a story I'd never heard before, so I asked for a source. ChatGPT told me it was in Plutarch's Lives, and I presumed it was in his Life of Alcibiades, so that's where I looked. When I said I couldn't find it there, ChatGPT told me, sorry for not being specific, it was actually in Plutarch's Life of Nicias. So I went and read Plutarch's Life of Nicias and couldn't find it.

So I told ChatGPT that I couldn't find the story in that book, could it please be more specific? What I was hoping for was a chapter or page number or something, I just presumed I'd missed it.

ChatGPT came back with "no, actually it's not in that book, it may be a later invention, there is no concrete evidence for this story."

TL;DR: ChatGPT cannot be trusted. Even when it does give you a source, it can be wrong. It has no capacity to evaluate the accuracy or likely accuracy of the information it gives you. It will present you with wrong or debatable information and give you absolutely no indication that it may not be correct, or that other versions or interpretations are possible.

[ragingbookdragon]

Just Know It Takes It From Me To End This, Darling

Bruce Wayne x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: First day back done and I am exhausted :') Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She frowned as she held the phone to her ear, sniffing slightly to pull off the “I’m sick” fake; she’d taken the day off too, just so she didn’t have to see him, hopefully it had helped her with her façade. “I’m really sorry about dinner tonight, Bruce. This all just hit me out of nowhere and I’m really not feeling to hot right now.”

His smile was heard even through the phone. “You don’t have to worry about dinner. I’ll come by and drop some off. We could watch some—”

“No!” she panicked. “The last thing you need it to get sick too. Just—just gimme a day or two to get over this and I’ll see you again.”

“Are you sure?” he worried. “It’s not bother to me if I get sick. I want to take care of you, darling. You know when you feel bad, so do I.”

Oh, it tugged at her heart to hear those words. To hear that promise and she smiled tightly. “I’m sure, Bruce.” She coughed a little, hoarsely clearing her throat. “I’ll see you sometime soon. Goodnight Bruce.”

She didn’t wait for his response, pulling the phone from her ear to end the call. Her gaze shifted from the screen to the dark sky outside and a heavy-hearted sigh escaped her as she shoved her phone into her purse and left her apartment, bundling in a coat against the Gotham snow.

***

Another plop sounded from the stone dropping into the water and she propped her chin on her elbow atop the railing, gazing disinterestedly at the ripples. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed but her sheets, no matter how many times she washed them, smelled like his cologne, and the last thing she wanted to do was think about him. It’d been pure luck that Bruce had met her, and unfortunately fallen in love with her. A hopeless romantic more familiar with unrequited loves than anything else being wooed by the biggest playboy in Gotham City.

She sighed again, tossing another stone and someone coughed behind her; she jumped a foot in the air and gasped like a horrible protagonist in a cheap eighty’s movie, spinning to see Gotham’s Dark Knight before her.

Pressing a hand to her chest, she breathed, “Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me, Batman.”

“It’s not safe to be out here alone.” His voice was gruff and quiet.

She shrugged, turning back to the water. “Yeah, well, I needed to think.”

Feeling him beside her, she listened as he asked, “Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing you should be concerned about, Batman,” she murmured. “Nothing important, at least.”

He watched her. “You’re (Y/N) (L/N). Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend.”

A loathing smile crossed her lips. “For now.”

“You’re going to leave him?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know if I can. He’s…too sweet for me to bring it up.”

“How so?”

(Y/N) looked over, brows furrowed as she questioned, “Isn’t Bruce your benefactor? Why on earth do you want to know why I want to break up with him?”

Batman merely answered, “Because you seem like you need to talk it out.”

Her eyes darted to the water and all the emotion in her chest started to well up again. “It’s stupid.”

“Try me,” he encouraged. “Is something bothering you in the relationship?”

“No. Bruce he’s…he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. Kind, attentive, funny. It’s just…”

“It’s just?”

(Y/N) met his gaze once more and whispered, “I don’t think I’m what Bruce needs.”

Even Batman seemed confused. “What do you mean?”

She gestured to herself. “I’m not a beautiful model that stars of the cover of the world’s greatest magazines or some super smart influential socialite. I’m a nobody from Gotham City and I feel that one day—” (Y/N) swallowed thickly against the lump in her throat, hand moving up and down in front of her chest as if it’d speak the words for her and pushed out, “One day he’ll wake up and realize there’s more for him than me.”

Letting out a shaky breath, she huffed pitifully, “Hell, I’ve never even been with anyone before Bruce. I was like a fumbling teen virgin the first time we had sex and honestly, I think I hid it well enough, but I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

(Y/N) wiped her face. “I’ve always chased love and tried so hard to be what people want but even then, I always got the whole, ‘I like you, but I just want to be friends’ spiel and just when I thought about giving up on love, Bruce Wayne walks into my life and says he’s in love with me.” She glanced over, voice soft as she whispered, “I dread the day he knows there’s someone better than me. Because I know there is and I feel like if I leave him now, it won’t hurt as bad as it would if it were however long down the line before it happens.”

Her fingers were shaky. “It’s embarrassing, this anxiety and lack of confidence but I’ve never known love like I have with Bruce. It’s everything you read about in those stupid cheesy romance novels, and I love every moment with him.” She shook her head. “But I can’t wait for him to break my heart.”

Batman took it all in, the tears in her eyes and on her cheeks, the fear yet love in her voice, the obvious feelings she had for him, and he smiled, reaching out to take her hand. “I’m not going to break your heart, (Y/N).”

She gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

“I love you, (Y/N).” he thumbed her hand. “And I don’t want a model or another socialite.” Bruce leaned forward and took her chin in his free hand, tipping it up as he murmured, “I want you.”

“I’m dreaming,” she blurted out. “I’ve obviously been hit by a car and am currently in some type of coma dream.”

He snorted. “No, I watched you leave your apartment and come here.”

(Y/N) frowned. “You were watching me?”

“You were faking sickness. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Bruce replied defensively. “I worry.” She went silent. “Darling?”

“So, all that?” she whispered. “You…you’re not upset?”

“Darling,” Bruce admonished, taking her into his arms, wrapping her in the long Kevlar cape; she pressed her cheek to the bat symbol, his familiar cologne wafting up her nose. “I knew something was bothering you…but I didn’t know it was this that was upsetting you.” He caressed the back of her head. “I’m not upset with you. I was just waiting to see if you were going to voice it.”

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Just horrible anxiety and ill confidence.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, (Y/N),” Bruce said. “If anything, I should be apologizing for not reassuring you sooner.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He pulled back slightly and gazed at her, and even beneath the cowl, she could tell his eyes were full of love, only because the smile on his face told her so. “Would you like to get dinner with me?”

(Y/N) smiled tearfully. “Yeah…I’d love that.”

[deceitful-darlings]

Hello, hello! Not a question or anything. I just wanted to take some time to appreciate your honesty!

How simply you explained why you write yanderes and why you like them is so relieving. As someone who loves yandere content to a concerning degree, explaining why is always hard for me. It's so raw to explain why I love the idea of someone who'd obsess over me. I know it's a terrifying thing in reality but here in the safety of fiction and imagination? It's so nice to think of someone who'd love you so much they'd go crazy, especially when sometimes it's so hard for me to love myself.

A Yandere is such a beautiful yet scary concept. They'd love me and keep me forever? Dammit, you hit my heart in one, Yandere. Here are my hands, tie me up and take me away.

Again, thank you so much for your honesty. It helps me rationalize it's okay for me to enjoy this media. I know this in reality would drive me nuts and scare me senseless but here in the wonderful land of fiction? Noice. Gimme those unhealthy but attractive yandere scenarios!

I’m going to be honest with you all

I don’t think there’s anything you can read in a fictional scenario that should ever cause you to feel ashamed of yourself.

Think about it. Do we critisise people for playing FPS games anymore because you’re shooting people therefore must be a violent person? Do we critisise people for reading novels about murder, because in doing so they must support the act? Do we look at people who watch series with questionable morals and say the people who watch them are disgusting?

No.

Because we fundamentally understand that enjoying something in fiction is NOT the same as wanting it to happen in real life.

I watched Dexter and enjoyed it, however I understand that Dexter as a character is a bad person and a murderer, I play video games where you kill people and can choose to take a bad moral path, and can still be utterly disgusted when the news shows someone has murdered another person, I can read yandere fiction and still understand that in real life, the action is wrong, toxic and an abusive relationship.

I can make these distinctions because I am an adult, the reason I enjoy these types of fiction doesn’t really matter, and it doesn’t even really matter if I get something out of it.

The only point it matters is when it drives someone to do something in real life that causes harm to either themselves or others. And if anyone tries to use that to tell you yandere writing is wrong, remind them that if someone becomes abusive, the fan fiction they read really wasn’t the root cause of that, that person was already unstable and should’ve been in treatment. A film/fanfiction/book/video game is NEVER the reason for someone doing something disgusting in real life, that’s all down to the person who does it. Plenty of people can read, watch, play, and write all these things without them being normalised in society, enjoying forbidden and dangerous things in the safety and security of a fictional world is not a sin, and if someone doesn’t like it they should act like an adult and use the filtering system to curate their own experience and stop throwing a hissy fit under the guise of ‘wanting what’s best for everyone’.

[maxwell-grant]

Jumping off from my previous question/suggestion, might I please ask if there are any superheroes you think would make fine Pulp Villains and any Supervillains you think would make convincing Pulp Heroes?

I'm gonna go ahead and remark that I'd personally suggest to anyone who's trying to create pulp characters inspired by superheroes (which would be probably about 90% of you who may want to do that sort of thing) to flip the script around a little. As in, don't try to create pulp analogues to the Justice League/Avengers upfront, but play around with some of the lesser-known icons and filter those through your idea of what “pulp” means (which is gonna be quite different than my own or anyone else’s). 

I’m not gonna really mention characters I’ve already talked about before like Vandal Savage or Namor, instead I’ll pick new ones and see what can be highlighted about them.

Regarding “Superheroes who could make fine/convincing Pulp Villains”, even though he’s a character I've read basically nothing on, Martian Manhunter definitely leaped out to me as an obvious option. He’s a Sci-Fi Superman who takes the first half of the name to an extreme that borders on comical, except he’s not a square-jawed white man, he’s a 1.000 year old green alien from Mars with shapeshifting powers who can look as monstrous as the artist desires. He’s the product of an advanced civilization and genetic modification, and on top of the Flying Brick powerset and shapeshifting, he also has incredibly powerful and extensive telepathic abilities, he can become invisible, phaze through matter, use telekinesis and other weird abilities. A lot of pulp stories closer to sci-fi were based around the idea of taking one of these abilities and extrapolating horrific consequences for them, and J’onn has those by the dozens. He also has an extremely mundane weakness that would allow him to be beaten by Macready with a blowtorch if that’s where the story ended.

He was also a law enforcement officer from Mars who became a police detective and it’s even right there in his name, and again, I have never read anything he’s in (I should probably pick the Orlando mini), I know he’s for all intents and purposes a generally nice man who tends to job a lot in crossovers and cartoons, but the idea of taking all those great vast and horrifying alien powers, combining all of them into a single character who also happens to be the last survivor of a doomed planet (and one who actually lived through it’s collapse), and then making that character a former cop trying to resume his work on Earth? 

That is a Pulp Supervillain begging to happen, and a particularly horrifying one at that. And hey, speaking of The Thing-

Now, Plastic Man’s potential for horror has already been explored quite a bit in some of the darker DC continuities like Injustice and DCeased, and it’s quite funny seeing a lot of these turn Plastic Man into The Thing because there were quite a handful of Wold Newton pages that ran with the idea that Macready from the original story was Doc Savage, and that the secret chemicals that Eel O’Brian was hit by that gave him his powers were actually samples of The Thing contained in one of Savage’s labs. Regardless, the idea of a former street crook suddenly gaining bizarre shapeshifting abilities that allow him to reign terror on his gangster associates could make for a great premise as a pulp crime story that veers into horror as the gangsters gradually figure out what is Eel O’Brian’s deal, and then the story can take a more tragic turn.

The thing about Jack Cole’s Plastic Man that modern takes on the character neglect is that, while Plas was a lively roguish anti-hero (arguably the first of it’s kind in comics), he’s still for intents and purposes “the straight man” (HA, right, Plastic Man being “straight”). He’s the relatively sane hero who plays off Woozy’s wackier misadventures and the imaginative madness that Jack Cole paints his adventures with, and it makes for an interesting contrast considering Plastic Man is already a weird character, having to ramp up the strangeness of the world around him so that he still remains the sane man. There are ways to twist this into something quite horrifying, even tragic for Plastic Man as he either struggles to maintain coherency, or embraces the shifting chaos the world’s spiraling into for better or worse (and definitely for the worse towards those on the receiving end of his vengeance, or even his humor).

Now, onto the flipside, regarding Supervillains that could become Pulp Heroes -

Normally I’d not mention the Batman villains here, because I already have a lot to talk about in regards to them as is, they comprise some of my favorite comic characters, but I pretty much have to make an exception for Two-Face in this topic, as not only a pretty obvious option but one with even case studies to prove it, as not only do we have The Black Bat, a 1930s costumed pulp hero with an identical origin story and several other conceptual overlaps with Batman, as well as The Whisperer, a young hotshot police commissioner who dresses up as a disfigured vigilante to kill criminals without consequence (and who’s somehow less of a maniacal asshole in his secret identity than in his regular one), but it turns out that there actually was a 1910s pulp hero called The Two-Faced Man:

Crewe was created by “Varick Vanardy,” the pseudonym of Frederic van Rensselaer Dey (Nick Carter, Doctor Quartz), and appeared in three short stories and two novels and short story collections from 1914 to 1919, beginning with “That Man Crew” (The Cavalier, Jan. 24, 1914). 

Crewe is “The Two-Faced Man.” 

He is in his forties and has gray hair and a “sharply cut and handsome profile—until one caught a view of the other side of his face and saw the almost hideous blemish that nearly covered it, and which graduated in corrugated irregularity from a delicate pink to repulsive purple.” 

Crewe is two-faced in another way. Crewe is a saloon owner in below Washington Square. But he has another identity: Birge Moreau, portraitist and socialite hanger-on. Crewe uses both his identities to solve crimes as an amateur detective.

The only person to know about both of Crewe’s identities is a police inspector who is also Crewe’s friend and who Crewe helps in pressing cases - The Encyclopedia of Pulp Heores by Jess Nevins

And speaking of obvious picks for Supervillains turned Pulp Heroes,

Assuming I even need to make a case for Kraven the Hunter other than just presenting this cropped panel from Squirrel Girl and in particular the art painted on the Kra-Van, or even just telling you to read Squirrel Girl and it’s take on “The Unhuntable Sergei” (I had no idea most of the people saying “Kraven’s arc in Squirrel Girl is as good if not better than Kraven’s Last Hunt” weren’t actually joking in the slightest and I speak as someone who has Kraven among their absolute favorite Marvel characters, it had no right being that good), I’m going to quote the brilliant Rogue’s Review from The Mindless Ones that lays down in painstaking detail why Kraven could make a killer protagonist in that horrifically over-the-top pulp fashion

One thing that strikes me writing this, is how well Kraven could hold his own comic. There’s always room for a book spotlighting a ruthless, hardcore, gentleman bastard, and Kraven’s raison d’etre makes him supremely versatile, so well suited to any genre, any environment. It’s odd that more writers haven’t jumped on the fact that in a universe where off-world travel is possible – indeed, common – a hunter like Kraven would have a field day. 

I can just imagine the opening scene – herds of weird cthuloid bat creatures grazing in the gloomy green nitrogen fields, bathed in lethal, bone splintering fog, when, suddenly, LIGHT! from above and an unholy bellowing: “CTHGRGN fthgrgnARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHGN!”

They look up in fear and then they start to run – ploughing into and over each other, tentacles flailing, as from the space-ship’s docking bay Kraven silently plummets, barely dressed for the cold, a glowing knife smothered in elder signs jammed between his teeth. 

You should have seen him one night previous, sipping alien tokay around the Captain’s table with the other guests, discussing the morning’s hunt; and the way he insulted the Skrull dignitary by forgetting himself and accidentally sporting his favourite piece of formal wear: his boiling unstable dinner-jacket of many colours, fashioned from the hide of one of the Ambassador’s super kinsmen.

Whoops!

Midway through Kraven explaining how the best way to irreparably damage a symbiote is to wait until its bonded with you and then seriously maim yourself, the Skrull decided it might be a good idea to simmer down, while his beautiful Inhuman lover hung on every word.

The deeper I get into this the more convinced I am that the MU’s hunter-killer extraordinaire wouldn’t limit himself to bloody planet Earth. And neither would he limit himself to this dimension, or universe or timeline. The guy’d be just as at home leaping, sword raised, onto the back of a T-Rex in the Savage Land, as he would be ploughing through werewolves in the graveyards of Arkham or tracking a howling Demon across Mephistopheles’ realm. 

He’d work perfectly in all these environments because he has a damn good reason to be casting a bloody swathe through them: wherever there’s big game, you’ll find Kraven.

The next choice I guess is an oddball, but not that much of an oddball if you know already what is my main frame of reference towards Marvel

I don’t think people appreciate enough that the main reason Shuma-Gorath has anything resembling a fanbase has nothing whatsoever to do with the comics he was in, but entirely because, when Capcom designers had a list of Marvel characters to pick from to work on Marvel Super Heroes, they took a look at the diet Cthulhu and went “gimme THAT one”, and then went all-in in giving the alien squid monster a funky personality along with a great stage and music and animations and all that great fighting game character stuff, and now he’s maybe the most popular Dr Strange villain along with Dormammu and Mordo, despite having ZERO film appearences or major showings in comic sagas.

Capcom's designers redefined Shuma-Gorath from a nebulous cosmic evil into a comically smug cartoon bastard who can rant about devouring all dimensions and souls horrifically while also cracking poses and zingers like “How do you expect to win a fight with only two arms?” and having dinners with Dhalsim or hosting Japanese game shows in his endings, and it kills me that none of this ever made it’s way into any depictions of the character outside of MvC. 

So that’s kinda what I’d go with. I’d take Capcom’s Shuma-Gorath, depower him a bit obviously from his canonical power, and run with the premise of his MvC3 ending where he decides that, well, if he's the unlikely savior of this pathetic planet and these wretched human dogs like him so much, and he’s clearly having a much better time here among them than he ever had drifting among the stars cealessly consuming life, then maybe he can take a break from all that eldritch business and keep up hosting the Super Monster Awesome Hour and maybe fight whatever PITIFUL villains think can take HIS planet. I mean, he’ll probably still end up destroying the planet by the end, but why not give this hero business a try?

Just until he gets his full powers back of course. 

I mean you can’t deny he DOES look pretty good in that bowtie, surely The Great Shuma-Gorath wouldn’t be so unmerciful as to deny these vile wastes of flesh something good to look at in their brief and miserable lives.

[gashousegables]

Hi! I was wondering for a long time now, but do you, as a Writer, should be in sync with your writing and real life values and views? Or it can contradict?

For example, if we talk about real life, MY personal life, I am all for healthy romantic relationship (although I, as multi-linguistic person, kinda yuck about this word. Very generalized for me. But I digress,) and all, but as a writer? I LOVE ambiguous characters, I love “You are my reason for existence” type of love, I love bloodsuckers or killers who find their redemption. Or people with toxic patterns who grow to be better people. Like, all this dark staff, you know? For example, there is this one woman, Maya Mehrotra, from an Indian thriller, who was super obsessive due to her traumatic life, and she was manipulative and a killer no less, and still I cried when she killed herself, because she lost everything, and I still remember her. What Im asking your opinion of, is, do your moral values as a person have to align with your “morals” as a media consumer/a writer? Or is it ok when they dont? Do you ever have had this dilemma as a writer?

FIRST of all - thank you for calling me a writer! <3333

Second of all, I don't know how to answer this question fully ... in my own opinion, I think fiction is fiction is fiction is fiction, yknow? You can write about almost whatever you want, morally. In fact, write about really fucked up stuff! A lot of literary sickos got branded for heresy so you can enjoy a little immoral bullshittery. I'm right there with you on the obsessive love part - it is almost a given that you can be ENTERTAINED by things you wouldn't necessarily WANT in reality - that's exactly why fiction exists babyyyyy

It's a lack of nuance that has people acting like you ARE what you write, and if you don't condemn explicitly every wrong or grey area of your characters it's pRoBlEmAtIc

There are always personal lines that you won't cross for yourself - I couldn't read Flowers in the Attic or Lolita or much of V. C Andrews because I have my own problems with sexual violence and CSA. So I also wouldn't write about it. But that doesn't mean that those novels aren't important. BUT it also means that CP doesn't exist in a special 'it's ART' bubble either. Nuance nuance nuance I'm 3 years into a Sociology degree gimme another three and I'll write you a thesis LMAO.

But there are moral lines I definitely think are a lot more important - like I'll never read Eleanor and Park because I hate racial fetishism ... but I still read Twilight, didn't I.

Ultimately, free will means you get to create and enjoy whatever art you please. Just means it doesn't exist in a vacuum and some puritans are gonna hate on you.

To me, my fiction isn't self-reflection (and if it is that never getting posted anywhere). Fiction is for telling stories - any stories you want!

[ombreblossom]

i am and i am not (what you choose to see)

This is a birthday fic for @rosy-cheekx, but in many ways I wrote it as much for myself as I did for them.

Featuring: a gender-questioning Martin in the safehouse. What better time to explore one’ gender identity than while one is on the run from dangerous eldritch forces?

Content warnings (please let me know if there anything i’ve missed): kissing, very minor internalized transphobia, and a brief discussion of Martin’s mother.

AO3 Link: here~

.

“There’s no rush, Martin. Take your time,” Jon raises his voice from the other side of their bedroom door, passing time running his fingers across Daisy’s sparse knick-knacks—just enough of them to present a front of homeyness to any errant visitors but not enough of them to clutter her otherwise spartan living space. Several Archers novels and otherwise miscellaneous reading materials line the single squat bookshelf in the entire cottage, an unbroken coating of dust overlaying everything. Jon picks up a porcelain dog (or a wolf?) and rolls it over in his hands.

“The longer I take, the more likely it is I’m never going to leave this room.” Martin almost-yells back, interrupting the muffled frustrations of someone wrangling an unfamiliar article of clothing.

“And what a shame that’d be. I rather hoped we’d trot down to the village today for a late lunch.”

"Gotta take advantage of the warm weather while we have it," Martin adds.

"Exactly."

"And I'm sure you have no ulterior motives whatsoever."

"Yes, of cour—wait, what?"

“Don’t worry," Martin says with a worrying lilt. "I know what you’re really after.”

Jon pauses and, after a beat, replies, “Oh? And what would that be?”

“Here, I’ll set the scene for you: enter Fiona’s Used Books.” Jon can see (in his mind’s eye, not his eldritch one) Martin preparing his best mock-theatrical pose before continuing. “In the far-right corner, the side of the establishment that faces the setting sun, is a raised platform. Cushions and pillows of all shapes and colors and sizes are strewn about the platform, some left contorted by their previous users before they left the shop to go about their day. Two wide-pane windows allow a full complement of the sun’s rays to gently warm the area. A lone figure lies nestled among several cozy-looking pillows, completely dead to the world but for a purring cat atop the figure’s chest—”

“Yes, yes, all right. You’ve made your point,” Jon grouses. “I hope you know that I consider spending time with you much more important than sunbathing with the bookshop owner’s cat.”

“I know, Jon; don’t worry.” An audible grin carries through the door.

Jon directs his own smile at the door and says, “Yes, well, now that you mention it, I did want to stop at the bookshop if we had time.”

“I think we can make that work. I’d hate to miss seeing you be adorable with Maggie.”

Jon sputters a bit in futile indignation. Martin has made his opinion of Jon's alleged adorableness abundantly clear, and it's not worth challenging him on it. He'd let Martin have this, even though the idea of anyone thinking he's adorable rankles him almost as much as the word spooky does.

(This is less the case coming from Martin, but he’d sooner shuffle off his mortal coil than tell him that.)

The weight of the porcelain wolf—he’s decided—in his hand grabs his attention. In fidgeting with it, he’s managed to rub all the dust off its coat, revealing a delicate blue glaze swirling around the figure. Wiping the excavated dust on his trousers, a concerning realization creeps into Jon's awareness. "Martin?" He calls out.

Martin yells back something questioning, the exact words lost in their reverberations around the inside of their bedroom.

“I know you’re trying to distract me right now,” Jon says matter-of-factly. “If you don’t want to do this anymore, I completely understand.”

All sounds of movement cease on the other side of the door—worryingly quickly.

“Martin?” Jon ventures.

“No. I…want to do this. I want to be more myself.”

Jon nods. “All right. Let’s have a look at you, then.”

It takes several long seconds, but the door creaks open, leaving just enough room for Martin to poke through the gap and reveal dark, furrowed brows set in a face that belies its owner’s vocal confidence just a moment ago. Tension lends Martin’s grip on the door a strength that looks painful from where Jon stands.

“Just gimme a second, gimme a second. Let me…let me get my bearings.” Martin’s visible shoulder, draped in a sheer dark-blue fabric, lifts and sinks with long, deep breaths.

A wave of concern washes over Jon. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I’m-I’m scared, I think. There’s no reason to be scared, but—"

“Who says you need a reason to be scared of something?” Jon interjects, and he immediately regrets the hard edge he hears in them.

Martin exhales sharply and averts his eyes away from Jon, grip tightening on the door, something Jon wouldn’t have thought possible. “Oh, you know, just the fact that we’re on the run from a body-hopping avatar of the Beholding, who can see us through anything even resembling an eye and almost certainly knows exactly where we are.”

“Yes…I know. I’ve been trying not to think about it, if I’m being honest. But even though there’s this uncertainty looming over us, you’re more than justified in feeling afraid of more…mundane things.”

Martin can’t help but scoff at that. “Yeah. Right."

“Do you…do you want to talk about what’s going on?” Jon asks, softness smothering any nascent trace of compulsion. The Beholding doesn’t get to have this, not if Jon has anything to do with it.

“I don’t….” Martin exhales again. “I’ve never tried to be this before,” he says, staring at the neat rows of hardwood planks to Jon’s left. “So much of my life has been just letting other people see me how they wanted to see me because it…I don’t know, helped me be someone specific to them when they needed it. I’ve been someone who won’t stir up a fuss; someone to project their frustrations onto; someone who cares for others for the sake of it; and, definitely most frequently, someone who presents as a man.

“There never seemed a point in saying, no, there’s more here than what I’m letting you see, you know? Sometimes it’s simpler to reduce myself to a single quality, even if it’s never helped me be close to people.

“But if I leave this cottage now, people are going to try to categorize me, try to match me up with some image they have preconceived in their minds, and they won’t be able to. And I’m not sure I should want that anymore, either. I guess the main thing is….” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “It’s terrifying to try to be something other than what the world sees you to be.”

Jon can’t let that go unanswered. Jon needs Martin’s attention for this, so he brings his hands to rest on each of his cheeks, not so much holding him in place but gently suggesting that’s his intention. Jon wouldn’t begrudge Martin his space if he needed it.

“You’re right. It is terrifying letting people see past the outward veneer we put up.” Jon says, concern still present but receding. “It’s not really my place to tell you how to work through that terror, but I am here for you—all of you, not just the parts of you you’re used to showing the world—and I’ll support you however I can.”

“God, Jon, how can you just say things like that?”

Jon makes a sound that’s something just shy of a laugh. “Because they’re true, Martin.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Come on out, Martin; it’s just us, and I want to see all of you, if you’ll let me.”

Still mostly hidden by the door, Martin stares at Jon, Jon with his myriad marks and scars; his long, unbound gray-streaked hair; and an extra ten years perpetually set in his shoulders. He’s pinned by the intensity of the affection in Martin’s eyes.

“Can I kiss you first?” Martin asks, voice terribly quiet.

The request shakes Jon to his core, but he recovers quickly, nodding his assent. “Please do.”

Martin steps out from behind the door and kisses Jon, Jon’s eyes closing on reflex before he can get a good look at him. The romance novels Jon used to pick up when the ache for a happy ending of his own became too painful to ignore any longer would have him feeling light and airy, almost senseless, as if suspended in space and time as he and Martin exchanged breath. Jon has never felt more grounded. He’s never felt more aware of every sensation within and without his body; the sensations of Martin’s hot breath on his face and his chapped lips pressing against his own keep him firmly tethered to the here and now. Jon’s heart hammers in his chest—so much so he’s sure Martin can feel it, too, their chests pressed together as they are.

When they break apart, Jon opens his eyes and says breathlessly, “Let’s get a good look at you. The mirror’s just over here.” Jon takes his hands back to make the journey easier but feels his heart drop when Martin looks back at the door left ajar in their haste to come together. He looks bereft. Bereft of what, Jon’s can’t be entirely sure, but Jon makes a judgment call and grabs one of Martin’s hands and pulls him along toward the far end of the room, their fingers interlaced.

It had seemed a bit odd for Daisy to have such a vanity piece, but Jon's thankful for it and thankful it wasn't as firmly affixed to the wall in their bedroom as it at first seemed. It would have made for cramped space indeed to have them both crowding around it, and Jon doesn’t want Martin to be alone for this.

They stop just in front of the mirror, Jon off to the side and Martin situated front and center. He gives Jon’s hand a grateful squeeze and looks at his reflection.

“What do you see when you look at yourself, love?” Jon prompts, squeezing Martin’s hand right back.

“I see myself wearing this dress we found rather miraculously in this northern Scottish village of three hundred whole people.”

“And?”

“And it’s…fwooshy.”

“Fwooshy.”

Martin nods with all the sage wisdom of a learned poet. “Yes. It’s light and it moves when I move. It feels like it’s barely touching me at all times, which is so different from how my normal trousers and jumpers feel.”

“Ah, I see what you mean.”

“Mm-hmm. And it’s just pretty, don’t you think?

“Indeed.” Jon debates drawing attention to the question Martin is dancing around, but he trusts Martin to get there in time. “I thought so the moment we found it.”

Martin makes a non-committal sound. “You know, this is a lovely color on me.”

“Come to think of it, I’ve never really seen you wear darker colors before now. You always wore jumpers with a lot of bright colors around the Archives.”

“Yeah. It was, um. My mum, she used to say stuff like, ‘Why do you want to look so dreary all the time? Bright colors look so much better on you,’ and I guess that stuck.” Martin’s voice takes on an affect somewhere between disappointed and exhausted as he imitates his mother, and Jon struggles not to form opinions about that until they’ve had time to talk about her more. “I think she liked looking at the brighter colors I’d wear, especially once she couldn’t really leave our flat very often. I want to think they reminded her of the outside. She never said that, though. I don’t know.

“Wearing a color like this makes me happy, though. Wearing delicate clothes like this that don’t hide me away makes me happy. I want to say I feel….” Martin trails off.

“I feel beautiful, Jon. I really, really do.”

Jon tugs Martin’s hand, still joined with his own, up to his lips and places a kiss on his knuckles, at once affirming you’re beautiful, love and urging Martin to continue.

Visibly reorienting himself, Martin continues: “I see a Martin I’ve never let myself be before. A Martin not at odds with himself. With the rest of the world, maybe, but not with himself. I want to be him, Jon.”

“Then be him.”

“What, just like that?”

“Well, not ‘just like that.’ It’ll take time to feel comfortable presenting your whole self to other people, and that’s okay. The time and effort will be worth it; the world is better for having you, all of you, in it.”

Martin nods shakily, looking for all the world like he’s adrift in the middle of the ocean with sliver of land visible in any direction.

Jon waits for Martin to gather his thoughts. It's the least he can do, lend Martin his patience, patience he's long deserved and nary gotten from Jon for most of their relationship. Plus, it gives Jon some time to look, to really look at this beloved person standing next to him.

Jon's never given much weight to a person's looks as a part of his attraction to them. More often than not, Jon would start to find someone pleasing to look at only after becoming attracted to them in other ways. Otherwise, people were people and what they looked like mattered little in the face of their ideas, their arguments, and their kindnesses (or lack thereof).

Things progressed much the same way with Martin, and now? Well, Jon would like to never stop looking at Martin, thank you very much, and the universe would do well to cooperate with him on that.

Jon looks and looks and looks as Martin twists from side to side, watching as the dress billows out around him. The dress is elegant, made more so by the person wearing it. It's long, the navy chiffon wrap falling down around Martin’s ankles in gentle fluttering waves. A more opaque under-layer provides him some coverage from his chest to his mid-thighs but by no means diminishes his silhouette: soft and sturdy in equal measures. The dress cinches together an inch or so below his pecs, highlighting the generous curve of his hips. Shoulders Jon knows teem with freckles are enveloped in wide navy chiffon sleeves. The wrap-around style of the dress creates a deep V-shaped neckline, revealing more lovely freckles spread across his ample chest.

Martin is gorgeous—full stop. He fills out the dress beautifully, fabric flush with his skin in all the right places. Jon has to keep himself from flying apart with fondness for the man. The dress suits him; there was no way Jon could have anticipated how much it would after observing its shape uninhabited.

Martin cuts through Jon’s musing with a whisper: “Thank you, Jon.”

“For what?”

“For…for being here with me. Throughout all this.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be, Martin,” Jon says in a tone that brooks no argument.

“Right. Cool,” he says airily, earning a light chuckle from Jon. He’s not at all surprised when he finds himself at the receiving end of a playful nudge.

“If you’re up to it, I’d still love to go into the village and share a meal with you, show you off to our lovely neighbors.” Jon stops for a moment before continuing, gesturing wildly with his free hand, “That is to say, I’m not trying to imply you’re my possession or that I get to parade you around as I please. I just mean that….” Jon looks deep into earthy brown eyes and presses on. “I just mean that I want everyone to know and see how much of a privilege it is to be with you, to be able to bear witness to you putting more of yourself out into the world—if you’re ready.”

“We’re already the novel English couple from out of town staying in the infamous nigh-abandoned cottage on a mysterious holiday—what’s another oddity for the list, eh?”

“Hey! I won’t have anyone talking about my—oh.” Jon makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. “It occurs to me that you might prefer different terminology for yourself. Is it still all right for me to refer to you as my boyfriend’? Or would you prefer something without a gender connotation like ‘partner’?”

“Jon, I spent the last two and a half years wanting to be your boyfriend, and that hasn’t changed. Having you call me that doesn’t bother me and is, in fact, one of my dreams come true.” Martin lets go of Jon’s hand and wraps him up in his arms; Jon’s follow suit. “Thanks for asking, though. I’ll let you know if anything doesn’t feel quite right.”

Jon buries his face in the crook of Martin’s neck, savoring the warmth and gentle scent of something vaguely herbal permeating through the chiffon dress. They’ll return to Martin’s comment later, he’s sure. “All right. I like ‘boyfriend,’ too, just for the record.”

“I’m glad,” he says, leaning his head on Jon’s.

“So,” Jon starts, pouring all the comfort he can manage into his embrace, “how about it? A late lunch at the pub, and then we can go see Maggie if there's time?”

Martin pulls away from Jon and smiles. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m good. Let’s get going,” he says.

“Yes, let’s.” Jon moves toward their makeshift mudroom, which is nothing more than a sorry shoe rack leaned against the wall next to the front door and a couple of wooden pegs designed to hang heavy coats.

“And, Jon?”

Jon turns part of the way back around, cocking his head to the side in mild confusion. “Yes?”

There’s a subtle tension in Martin’s stance when Jon looks back at him, but he’s standing up noticeably straight and puffing himself up. This is familiar to him; he imagines he looks the same way when he’s about to go into a situation that involves delicate social interactions.

However, this is unfamiliar to him as something Martin does in the face of imminent discomfort. Martin isn’t a lip-worrier. Nor is he a fidgeter. Too much practice maintaining a guise of false cheer. No, what Martin does is shrink. He hunches over imperceptibly and draws his arms into himself, and makes the space he’s in feel that little bit bigger, that little bit lonelier, for his diminished presence in it.

Resolve blooms on Martin’s face. It’s a fragile thing, Jon can tell, but it’s there. Jon hopes this is just one instance of many of Martin deciding to take up his due space and filling the world with his presence. “Would you start also using ‘they’ and ‘them’ for me sometimes?” Martin starts, in a rush. He continues, slower and more hesitant, “I just want to try them out; see how they feel and all that. Might not be a permanent thing.”

“It would be my utmost honor and pleasure to use whatever language my boyfriend feels most comfortable with me using for them.” Jon says primly, bent slightly at the waist and arms swept to one side.

In a second, Martin closes the distance between them, hooking one arm under Jon’s legs and behind his back and twirling him around, both of them giggling all the while. Jon gets the impression Martin’s taking it easy (in consideration of the abundance of fabric flowing free around their ankles, if he had to guess), but it’s perfect anyway.

For his part, Jon is taking this opportunity to admire his boyfriend between giggles: the sepia highlights in their hair, brought out by the (no doubt by now) sinking sun; the double chin Jon likes tucking his head under when he wants to feel at home; the strength in all of Martin’s body but especially their arms, arms that hold him close as they spin around the room, never showing signs of faltering. Mingling with admiration for Martin’s physical form is an enduring respect for Martin’s courage and his life-long compassion. This is a person Jon would trust with his life and his heart.

Eventually, Martin returns Jon to solid ground. Jon would say it was too soon, but they’re both slightly out of breath, and time is moving ever forward. Jon practically falls into Martin, pressing their foreheads together. The smooth chiffon slides against Jon’s skin as they shift into comfortable positions. He closes his eyes and isn’t aware of much else that isn’t Martin.

“Hey there, handsome,” Martin says after more time passes. “What’s someone like me got to do to get someone like you out that front door so we can actually go on our date sometime this century?”

Jon’s eyes crinkle in the corners, deeply amused. “You might have to carry me over the threshold at this point. Just make sure to grab our shoes—wouldn’t want leave without completing your ensemble, after all.”

[spockandawe]

What are your favorite chinese webnovels? What are some of the differences youve noticed between cnovels and other types of novels?

That second question is really, REALLY interesting, and I really want to answer it well, and I am REALLY sure I’m going to do a bad job of answering it, so let me just noodle about that first question for a minute while I try to think XD

I went through some of my TOP-top favorite novels in more detail yesterday, but generally speaking, mxtx and meatbun are both at the top of the pack. They’re really good at writing compelling main characters and balancing piles of angst with plenty of humor and pulling everything together into a very satisfying ending (which is something I don’t alwaysssss see, even in some of the novels I really like). After them, The Disabled Tyrant’s Pet Palm Fish (transmigration, ancient chinese prince falls in love with pet fish) and Golden Stage (ancient chinese gay arranged marriage between bitter enemies(?)) are two novels that I love a lot, which both have very cute romances and go a bit lighter on the main character suffering front, and which I broadly recommend to anyone who’s interested in the genre. They didn’t end stick the landing QUITE as hard as an svsss or tgcf, but they still were very nice.

Then, let me see. I’m trying to remember which books I’ve read in the last year, and am doing a terrible job, haha. I will say that a book I enjoyed for like... eighty percent of it and then the ending let me down terribly was The Dreamer In The Spring Boudoir (modern day career woman transmigrates into barely-fantasy ancient china novel as the disliked primary wife of a nobleman), which is also the only straight webnovel I’ve read so far. The main character and romance were delightful, but that ending... haha, wow, I felt betrayed. But I did like the first half very much!! I’m idly contemplating a deliberately-partial reread. Then I’m currently like two chapters away from catching up with the current translation of The Wife Is First (ancient chinese prince lives out time travel fixit fic, determined to treat his spouse better this time around). I’m also catching up on Heroic Death System (transmigration, across MANY universes, where the goal is to die heroically in each one, and also maybeeeee to find his boyfriend in each one. this shit gets fucking bananas. in one of them, he emotionally seduces his boyfriend while he’s a dolphin. in another one, he’s a sentient mushroom. i’m in the middle of a section titled ‘I Am An Evil Pen’. yes, like a writing utensil type of pen. this is the weirdest book I’ve read so far). Oh, and Thousand Autumns (righteous sect leader gets sabotaged and loses a fight, wakes up blind and amnesiac, demonic sect leader is like ‘lol i bet i can turn him evil’ and accidentally catches feelings along the way).

What else... I’m keeping up with (but behind on) some others. First, there’s How To Survive As A Villain (modern terminally ill CEO transmigrates into stallion novel, wakes up as villain, accidentally seduces hero). Then, we’ve got Transmigrating Into The Body Of The Heartthrob’s Cannon Fodder Childhood Friend (only modern webnovel I’ve read, young man transmigrates into beginning of gratuitous whump book, back in high school, and is determined to protect the protagonist from all the canonical suffering). Then there’s Pulling Together A Villain Reformation Strategy (guy transmigrates into story as the hero’s childhood friend who will eventually become his enemy and get killed, successfully acts out his part and dies, completely fails to realize he’s broken his friend’s heart in the process... and then wakes up in another character’s body). And then there’s The Villain’s White Lotus Halo (a transmigrator keeps bouncing from universe to universe as a cannon fodder villain, who gets like half a line before being killed. he tries to purchase an upgrade package so he can be a COOL villain instead, but accidentally gets sold a ‘white lotus halo’ package instead, so that no matter what he does, everyone is just DEEPLY moved by his appearance and is positive he did nothing wrong). All of those are EXTREMELY delightful. You may notice a running transmigration theme, which....... yeah, I think there are a TON of delightful stories in the webnovel scene that deal with this genre, which seem so rare in English language media.

Which makes a good transition point to what’s different about the cnovel scene! I’ve seen hardly any transmigration stories in English, and I’ve got a couple go-to examples for when I’m trying to explain it, but like. Only a couple. Which is such a shame! Like, there’s the default idea of ‘I was reading this book and then I woke up inside the book!!’ but it’s clearly such an established genre that people are playing with it in all kinds of interesting ways, like in The Villain’s White Lotus Halo or Heroic Death System setups. It’s kind of wild to me, because it seems like such a gimme for a nice easy story structure? Whatever kind of world you want to present, there’s no need to introduce it to the reader from the ground up, or find a good way to hook them in. Either the main character read the book in question and can explain the premise and why we should care in pov, or the main character is new to the universe too, and trying to find their own footing. I enjoy it a lot! I’ve sampled transmigration books that didn’t grab me, but I’ve sampled way more that did. 

And then, the one semi-technical answer I thought of to this question was the way that these novels tend to handle pov. It’s not a hard-and-fast rule that regular novels are restricted to one pov, or that pov can only change at hard breaks in the story, but if I saw a bog-standard american novel glide from pov to pov the way these novels regularly do, I would tend to wonder if it was sloppiness or a mistake, or I would grump to myself about how I don’t like omniscient third person pov. And I still don’t know exactly what I think about this, or why it’s different in here, but I’m pretty sure I like it a lot, especially for stories where the romance tends to play a large part :V 

I used to read a lot of Books About Writing, and read plenty of stuff about why you don’t DO this, but.... I like it! In dtppf, Jing-wang can’t talk, and when Li Yu is a fish, he can’t talk, and drifting from one of their perspectives to the other gives me lots of useful information about how they’re both feeling. Could that be conveyed through restricted pov? Maybe! But I’m typesetting the svsss extras right now, and I’m in the bing-ge vs bing-mei section, and we get a few brief flashes of bing-ge’s thoughts, and it’s so NICE. It’s information I would not have otherwise received, because Shen Qingqiu sure wasn’t going to notice it. But early in the story, that pov was withheld from me, which also made sense (or hua cheng’s pov was withheld from me FOREVER, which makes me so sad ;u;). There don’t seem to be any hard and fast rules, which makes me really nervous about writing fic and trying to match the style, but I do like it a lot! 

And I’m definitely not able to articulate this in the way that I would like to, or speak with any real authority (I’m not that widely read in the cnovel scene, and i’m not very genre-adventurous in english), but there’s something about the role that the romances play in these stories that’s different from what I’m used to expecting, and it’s VERY tasty to me. I only rarely read romance novels, because I’m not often interested in the romance as a primary plot driver, but the romances in these books play a more substantial role than I’m used to expecting. And I’m into it! It’s a balance closer to what I’d expect from, like, a shippy longform fanfic. Which covers a lot of ground and is NOT a precise measure, but there’s more emotional weight given to the romance than I would expect, but without the romance carrying ALL of the emotional weight, and it strikes a perfect balance for me in a way I’m not used to encountering. Now, some of this could definitely be due to me not finding the right authors, or right subgenres, or whatever. But in the genres I inhabit, it’s a subtle difference, but one I find compelling.

Oh, one last thing. The cultural differences, duh :P I’m only familiar with things like, say, ancient chinese court etiquette through a lens of fan-translated novels like these, and I didn’t grow up steeped in the culture in a way I’m used to the trappings of something like medieval european courts. But there’s a distinct flavor to the social dynamics of these novels, from the formal levels down to the casual, and I know it’s super intricate and detailed and that authors play with differing degrees of historical accuracy vs fictional fun, and I wish I was better equipped to speak to the nature of any of this. But I find it really compelling! I recognize that it’s only new to ME because I didn’t seek out chinese media before now. And, the point that I originally wanted to get to before I got super distracted: the flirting. The flirting and teasing are a very different flavor from what I would expect in most english language media, and I love it, even if I can’t speak to how much of that is purely cultural, and how much of it is like... the conventions of How Fiction Is Written varying by culture, if that makes sense. I adore seeing what flirting and affection and indulgence and attentiveness look like in different settings, and these books, with their heavy romantic focus, absolutely deliver.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello Steph! First, thank you for everything you do for this fandom!! I don’t know what we would do without you!! ♥️ I am looking to start my first novel length Johnlock fic. I found your list, and was wondering if you had a specific one to recommend to start off with? I’m looking for something that won’t make me too sad (the world does that on its own), and of course, lots of Johnlock!! Any recommendations would be appreciated, thank you!! Sending love!! *hugs*

HI NONNY!

Hmm, this is tough, because Novel Length is anything over 50K words, but some people don’t want to read “novels that short”. So I get a lot of requests for Epic novels over 100K, so like WOOO HOO LOL.

Hmm. How about I give you a few recs varying lengths, based on your requirements, and you can decide how long you want to go, since I list all my word counts on my recs?

First off, for when you become obsessed with the lengthy fics like I am now LOL:

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K Pt 2 (May 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 2 (Aug 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 3 [MFL’s] (Dec 2020)

Next, here’s something for each range between 50 and 100K+ <3

BUT BEFORE I BEGIN: honourable mention because it IS my fave fic ever, and it fits your criteria minus the length so SORRY but please check it out:

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

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Okay, now the main event, of more-fluff-than-angst:

NOVEL LENGTH NOT-SO-ANGSTY FICS FOR NEWBIES

Spare Change by Ermerness (E, 51,966 w., 14 Ch. || Rich Holmeses AU || First Kiss / Time, Holmes Family, Virgin Sherlock, Anal, First Meetings, Bossy Bottomlock) – The Holmes family is one of the richest and most powerful in England. Sherlock spends his time flying around the world on the family's private jet drinking a lot and shopping at expensive boutiques as a way of trying to alleviate his endless boredom. His mother decides it's time he settles down with someone powerful, wealthy and well connected. John Watson happens to be none of those things.

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,086 w., 16 Ch. || Post-TRF, Drumsticks, First Kiss/Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery, Anal, Rimming, Orgasm Denial, Butt Plugs, Cooking, Furniture Sex, Bath Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Prostate Massage, Anal Beads, Dancing, Romance, Tantric Edging, Internalized Homophobia, Case as Foreplay, Anal Beads, Tickling, Dancing, Dry Coming, Romance) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They're in love. You know the drill.

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.

Perdition's Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., 21 Ch. || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

A Cure For Boredom by emmagrant01 (E, 81,665 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Talk, Threesomes, Light Dom/Sub, Sex Club, Experiments, Anal, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming, Cheeking, Double Penetration, Mild Kink, Porn Watching, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – They’d never talked about sex in the year they’d known each other. Well, that wasn’t quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 84,945 w., 18 Ch. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w., 19 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

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Hope you enjoy those!!! <3 PLEASE read them all, though, and THEN READ ALL THE ONES ON THOSE LISTS. Because once you start long fics, you get REALLY INTO THEM. Hah hah <3