#how long to cook ribs in the oven

[syrma-sensei]

→ Hot Under The Helmet.

gif credit

pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.

rating: explicit.

warning: ben's pov, horny and angry ben, dom/sub undertones, aggressive sex, piv, fingering, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, glove kink, eventual fluff, antiquated mentality...

word count: 2.2k

summary: fucking his wife is the best way to ease his mind.

taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @homosexualferret...

→ masterlist | ao3

Soldier Boy didn't head back to his quarters in Vought's tower when the damned mission was over. He didn't want to spend another minute with his pathetic excuse of a fucking team nor did he want to be in the tower. He scoffed. A bunch of fucking clowns in a fucking circus. Sometimes he wondered if Vought picked them on purpose for the sake of insulting him and his legacy.

Instead, Soldier Boy made his way straight back home. He'd been on duty for a couple of weeks, accompanied with his teammates and other government soldiers as a backup to their mission — not that he needed either but protocols and marketing and Vought's bullshit.

Long story short, and as expected, The Twins fucked up, Noir tried to be the hero of the day, Swatto a fucking idiot, Mind Storm and Gunpowder fucking useless, Countess a fucking bitch. He had to handle it all by himself and fix everything his teammates dicked with. And he was pissed. Fuming. Raging. All he was seeing was red. And he could do nothing about it.

When Vought promised him a team to lead, he expected to have seasoned soldiers who knew how shit was done. Warriors who respected the missions and honoured their duty and privileged their country. Instead, he got fucking spoiled children to babysit. He wasn't in charge. The irony. His fucking helmet of forty years of dedication and service for this country granted him no say at the matter. It was fine, he'd tried to convince himself. He took it upon himself to train them and mould them into formidable soldiers like he was but to no avail. The fucking idiots thought the job was only to wave their hands and pose for fucking cameras at movie premieres!

Soldier Boy grumbled when he stepped inside one of his many properties. The one he shared with his wife. Their penthouse; their home. His pretty, little wife. He let a small smile slip into his lips when a mix of aromatic whiffs permeated his nostrils, his superhuman sense of smell enhanced the savoury scent. His stomach grumbled. Fuck did he really miss his wife's delicious cooking. Suddenly, his fury began to cease. Soldier Boy clicked his helmet off of his head absent-mindedly and set his shield aside before his lips quirked into a wicked grin.

It'd been a fucking fortnight since he saw her. Touched her. Fucked her. He was surrounded by dicks for far too long, and he craved pussy. Her pussy. He was consumed by the urge of destroying her cunt. And she'd love it. She'd always had. She liked it rough. She liked him ruining her, and leaving her unable to sit right for days. And she even dared to chide him when he went easy on her at the beginning of their relationship.

“I'm not fucking fragile, Ben. Don't you hold back.” She'd told him.

He smirked. She had no idea what he had in store for her tonight.

With many many years of experience under his belt, Soldier Boy stealthed his way to the kitchen where his wife was swaying her hips and humming a song as she bent over to check on the ribs she was roasting in the oven. Ben smiled proudly. He never let her do that job. The grilling. It was a man's job, the husband's job. So, to accommodate his wishes, she came up with this idea. To cook that kinda food in other ways. And being the expert cook she was, she did it extraordinarily.

His dulled eyes came to life with a lick of lust swirling within the green of his eyes when he traced the curve of her perfect ass. Fuck, his trousers began to feel too tight to his liking. Little did she know that she had a stirred brute standing behind her, waiting for the right moment to pounce on his prey.

Turning on her heels gracefully, a surprised gasp escaped her throat when her dilated eyes landed on her beloved husband. He was still in his supe gear except for his helmet and shield.

“Ben!” She trilled with a big smile, trying to balance herself from the surprise; he was hours early, “Welcome back, honey! Didn't think you'd be early—”

He cut her off with a burning kiss. Hungry and possessive. How he could cross the kitchen to her in such agility was still behind her. He smelled like earth and dust, blood and sweat. He smelled like a man should. Like a soldier should. Her core throbbed at his virile odour. His stubble grew bigger, and she liked how it brushed coarsely against her palms when she cupped his cheeks to kiss him back. She giggled against his mouth when his strong hands grasped her waist and lifted her up effortlessly and sat her at the countertop.

She clung to his neck, their kiss nourishing with vigour. His lips left hers temporarily to loosen her apron and toss it aside, then he removed her blouse and unclasped her bra. Ben crushed her lips again, his rough-padded hands kneading her tits, thumbs aggressively flicking her hardening nipples. His thumbnails grazing crescents on her darkening areolas. Ben's lips split mischievously when she let a wanton moan. His grin widened when the smell of her arousal reached his nose. Fuck. He loved it. He could already taste that on his tongue.

“Fuck, Ben!” She groaned when one of his hands trailed down to her shorts and slipped beneath her panties. He smirked when she instantly smeared his fingertips wet with her arousal. He let his gloves on; he knew she loved it when his gloved fingers fucked her relentlessly. She liked it when they were knuckles-deep inside of her, with the rims of his fingerless gloves grazing her clit. The little slut. She also liked when he fucked her in his supe suit. She took pleasure in submitting to his power. To him. He was a man worth submitting to after all, and he'd earned hers.

“Hmh, those fourteen days were rough on you, weren't they, baby girl?” He mocked, thick fingers spreading her folds open roughly. He loved to tease her and turn her into a mess. He relished in it.

She nodded hastily. It took a measured press of his thumb on her clit to turn her into putty in his hand. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-Yes, Sir,” She whined, legs parting wider for him, “They were brutal.” She sobbed, burying her face in his powerful neck when he twisted his finger just right, her ankle snapped. He added another finger and she mewled.

“Ben, Ben! Sir, please!” She shrieked in delight, hands clutching at his gear. She gushed on his fingers and he fucked her through her high. He felt the tremble of legs. He was going to force another one from her. She should have asked for permission. She wasn't in control. He was.

She gasped when he didn't stop, “Ben, please don't—!” She squeezed her thighs shut, an attempt to cease the searing pleasure between her legs. His fingers were raw against her flesh. It brought tears to her eyes.

“Now you want me to stop?” He sneered with a drawl, curling a finger inside, her walls tightened in response. “Your pretty pussy doesn't.”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, before she gazed up at him through half-hooded eyes, moaning, “Don't stop!”

Fuck, that shouldn't have surprised him. But it did. Fuck. She was really a slut. His pretty slut. She was practically inviting him to break her. Oh, he would. Deliciously so.

She squealed when he coaxed another orgasm from her. Begging him to fuck her more like a bitch in a heat.

“Holy fuck, baby, your pussy is squeezing my fingers tight!” He chuckled maliciously as he curled his knuckles again then pulled out.

With pearlescent tears adorning her eyes, she took his thumb into her mouth when he pressed it to her lips. Fuck, the way she twirled her tongue around his digit made him half-tempted to fuck her throat. He could do that later. Now, all he wanted was to fuck that needy, slutty pussy raw.

Ben shifted her up and flipped her on her stomach, her hot breasts squeezing against the cold marble. Shoving her shorts and panties down, he took in the sight of her ruined pussy. She was soaking, her arousal oozed from her opening down to her thighs in small rivulets. Unabashedly inviting him to feast on it. And how could he reject such an invitation? In a moment, he was on his knees, mouth wrapped around her slit, sipping from the sweet honey she had to offer. Seemed the act surprised her as she jerked in stupor with a squawk.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Her knuckles went white when she grabbed on the edges of the countertop as he ate her out like a man starved.

The new gruff hairs on his face burned deliciously against her skin as his tongue flicked assiduously against her swollen clit. He lapped her heat with a flattened tongue before invading her sensitive drawers, slurping her through the mess of her dew and his spit.

“Ben…I'm cumming again!” She tried to utter, but all that came out of her mouth was a broken whisper.

Smirking again, he unbridled the wonders his tongue could do, and she was undone again; his soddend beard was a proof of what he could do to her.

He licked her clean, and her overstimulated cunt shivered every time his tongue made contact with her flesh. She was trying to catch her breath up there, but he couldn't let her. He wasn't done with her yet. He had yet to be satisfied.

He heard her hum as she turned her face to make eye contact with him. A satiated look in her eyes as she smiled weakly at him.

“Ain't fair tho,” She croaked playfully.

He raised an eyebrow, “Hmm?”

Supporting herself with her arms, she managed to turn her body to face him, eyes immediately perching on the conspicuous bulge between his legs before her teeth dragged her lower lip inside her mouth.

“I'm naked, you're not.” Her hands trailed from his chest down to his zipper.

“Thought you liked me fucking you in this shit.” He drawled thickly as her nimble fingers undid his pants and freed his cock.

“God, you're so hard,” She giggled gleefully, “I do,” Her eyes flitted up to his face, “I like what kinda authority this suit holds. It's like fucking a god.”

His dick twitched painfully at her words. She was so good at this. He liked that about her. How she could tickle and caress his massive ego so easily. How good she made him feel so damn good about himself though he'd never admit that out loud. A god she wanted to fuck, then a god she would fuck.

His large hand roughly seized her jaws, her yelp was swallowed by his mouth. His dick was too eager to feel the warmth and wetness of her cunt as he plunged it inside of her.

“Oh, God!” She sang, her arms encircling his neck as he snapped his hips into her. Her hands fisted his short hair.

“No god, only me.” He groaned.

She cried his name as he bottomed out, he was fucking every ounce of anger out of his system on her. And she liked it. Her walls sucked him deeply, wanting more, and more he gave her.

He grumbled, “Gonna put a baby in you.” He wasn't asking. He was telling.

“Yes, Yes! Please make me a mommy!” Pride sprouted in his chest, and the immense feeling bolted down his spine and made his cock spring his load into her.

He didn't pull out right away, he waited for a few minutes. He didn't want his seed to spill out of her as much as appealing that would be to watch.

“You okay?” He asked her with concern.

“A bit thirsty, but I'm aces,” She blinked, sighing dreamily, “That was fucking sexy by the way.

He chuckled amusedly, reaching for the pot of water next to them and pouring her a glass, “The part you called me a god?”

She rolled her eyes as she gobbled down the water.

He arched his brow before whispering into her ear, “Roll your eyes at me like that again and I won't be letting you cum for a month.”

She choked on the water and he laughed deeply at her reddened face.

Suddenly, he became aware of the burning smell coming from the oven. She picked up on him sniffing and they looked at each other and say in unison, “The ribs!”

Her quiver didn't go unnoticed when he pulled out of her to let her check on the food cooking in the oven while he adjusted his clothes. He appreciated her nakedness in the kitchen, maybe he should ask her to wear nothing but an apron when she cooked. She'd look fucking sexy. His cock twitched at the idea.

His wife groaned in disappointment when she saw the ribs.

“Is it bad?” He asked, crouching next to her.

“It's way crispier than I intended.” A hand pressed to her forehead.

“I can handle crispier.”

“But, Ben, I wanted it to be perfect for you,” She whimpered and he smiled, “I know how much you like it.”

“Well, in your defence, happened when you were pretty busy serving me desserts before the main dish,” He winked.

She shook her head with a smile, “Y'know, you're surprisingly cheeky sometimes.”

“With you, I am.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back to work but still hurting.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You’re grateful only for the reprieve of Sy’s shower. He spends at least an hour in the bathroom but it’s not nearly enough time to figure this out. He’s not going anywhere and you have no way of changing that. And with how things are going, it won’t be long before you’re entirely trapped with him. 

The helplessness suffocates you. You slowly get up, needing to do something, anything to keep your thoughts from spiralling further. Or him. 

You go to the kitchen and pull out some chicken. Even with your recent shop, what you have won’t last. Not with two people. You marinate the tender breast as you pull out the jasmine rice and your mini rice cooker. Everything you have is built for one, it’s another reminder that he’s invaded your life. 

The bathroom door opens and you stay hidden in the kitchen. It’s only as he calls your name that you poke your head out. You don’t want him to think you’ve tried to escape again. Imagine that, escaping your own life. 

“Here,” you squeak and your mouth hangs open. He stands in only a towel. It’s low enough that the trail of hair along his stomach grows thicker just above the knot. Your lashes flick and you cough, “just starting dinner. Jerk chicken and... and rice.” 

“Sounds delicious,” he grins and runs his fingers through his beard. “Much better than field rations, eh, Aika?” 

He whistles at the dog and she perks her ears up. Sy sighs and drops his arms, smiling at you dreamily. Your eyes wander to the scars all over his body; a thick raised one along his ribs and smaller ones flecked along his shoulder and a line on his lower stomach. 

“I’ll get dressed,” he rubs his hands together, “can’t be eatin’ in my towel, huh?” 

“Sure, uh, I... I’ll be in here.” 

You go back into the kitchen and stare at the rice maker. You see the reflection of his scarred mind in his body. Again you can’t help the rent in your heart. That sympathy that underlines your fear. He’s a tortured soul but not one you can soothe. You don't know where to begin. 

You put the chicken in the oven and set the rice to cook. Next you look for a veggie. Broccoli. Standard. You’ll add a bit of seasoning. You’re not very hungry, even as the aromas rise in the air. 

“God, it’s hot in here,” Sy growls as he appears in the doorway that opens to the dining space.  

“It’s the oven,” you say as rinse the head of broccoli, “sorry.” 

“Ah, you know, it’s not half so bad as the desert,” he chuckles, “Aika knows. The way the sand gets all in your mouth and—and everywhere else.” 

“I can’t imagine,” you murmur, “wouldn’t be a day at the beach, I’m sure.” 

“Mm, no,” he agrees as he leans on the wall, “not a bad idea. I could take ya down for a beach day. We could get some good pictures. A few videos.” 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” you focus on your task. You put the broccoli on the cutting board and pull out a knife. 

“You want me to get that, sweetie? Don’t wanna cut yourself now,” he pushes away from the wall. 

“No, I got it,” you line up the knife and chop the head in half. He winces. 

“It’s dangerous, you got a smaller one?” 

“Really, Sy, I’m fine,” you insist as he looms closer, “let me just get dinner ready and you can sit--” you hiss as you pull your finger back at the sudden slip. 

“I told ya,” he accuses as he grabs your hand and examines it. His grip is iron and you don’t resist. There’s no blood. 

“It was just my nail,” you wiggle the top of your finger, “please--” 

“Let me do it,” he insists and reaches for your other hand, “give me the knife, sweetie.” 

You hesitate but hand it over. You’re not sure why he’s so nervous about it. Still, there’s no sense fighting over sharp objects. 

“We gotta work together, don’t we?” He says as he chops.  

“Sure,” you agree thinly. 

You turn to get a sheet pan for the broccoli. You’ll dress in oil and some spices, maybe a bit of lemon juice. As you lay parchment paper over it, he drops the knife in the sink. 

He remains, crowding you as he watches you work. You spread out the little branches and drizzle them over. You put them in beside the chicken and rinse off your hands. You dry off and glance over at Sy. He's watching you. 

“You really don’t have to stay out here,” you say. 

“I like being around you,” he grins, “still can’t believe it’s real.” 

Me neither, you think. 

���Well, all that’s left is the waiting,” you set a timer, “so...” 

“Ah, well, s’pose we can do that on the couch.” 

“Oh, well, I was gonna get the laundry together,” you say, the excuse popping up spontaneously. 

“Why don’t you wait ‘til tomorrow?” 

“Right, uh, I wanted to get it done. I need to get back to my commissions tomorrow.” 

“Mmm,” he hums flatly, “you work too hard.” 

You withhold a mean thought. He hasn’t mentioned work since he showed up. What about that desk he was talking about? You know better than to challenge him. You’ll keep the peace as long as you have to. Get through dinner then worry about the real test; bedtime. 

“Alright, let’s sit,” you relent and reach for his large hand.  

It’s not an affectionate gesture, merely appeasing. You can still hear his voice booming and the thump his skull made on the wall. Not to mention the state of his face and the dent in your wall. You can’t forget what he’s capable of. You can’t deny that you’re lucky he only hurt himself. 

He lets you guide him out of the kitchen and you try not to show your reticence. You won’t think of what happened on the couch last time. Besides, you can’t leave the food to burn. 

💗

You eat at the table. It’s an excuse for some space. As you waited for the timer to save you, you were trapped in his embrace. His constant touching and cooing. You should be flattered when someone tells you you’re pretty and perfect but he just makes you want to combust. 

You can hardly stay still. You clear the table and tidy up what mess is left in the kitchen. You can hear him prowling in the other room. You wipe down the table and peek up as he stops to watch you. 

“Almost done?” He asks. 

“Sure, uh, I’ll finish and get washed up for the night.” 

“Washed up?” He echoes. 

“Brush my teeth, wash my face, all that,” you explain. 

“Oh, yeah, makes sense.” 

“What about Aika? She need to go out?” 

He stops and looks at the dog, still laying at the door. 

“She should,” he intones grimly, “I’ll take her then.” 

He disappears into the bedroom as you let out a breath. It’s not much. You know you’re just putting off the inevitable. He reemerges with the jangle of keys and you see your phone case peeking out of a pocket in his cargo shorts. He might seem scattered but there’s something about him that assures you he’s just as calculated. 

“I’ll be back,” he assures and stops just by the door, “sure you don’t wanna come with us?” 

You rinse off the cloth and shake it out. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“You should come...” he mumbles. 

“Sy,” you go to the doorway parallel to the apartment door, “I promise, I won’t go anywhere.” 

You have nowhere to go. 

He stares at you. His looks pale and drawn. He cracks his neck as he tilts his head one way then the other. He lets out a long exhale as he sets his head straight and he steps closer. Aika stands, her paws scuffing on the hardwood. You gulp as he makes himself bigger and glares down at you. 

“I know you won’t,” he says quietly, “because you know I’ll follow you anywhere, don’t you, sweetie?” 

You bat your lashes and gulp. You nod, “yes, captain.” 

His lips curve and he reaches to grab you, cradling the back of your head as he pulls you close and kisses your forehead, “good girl. Get nice and fresh for me.” 

He lets you go with a growl and you stand frozen between the counters. Aika watches him with her doleful eyes as he steps into his boots. He opens the door and points her out, not bothering to take the leash with him. She looks at you, wiggling her nose, before she goes. 

The door snaps shut behind Sy and jolt you. You can’t shake the grit in his voice. The subliminal threats laced into his proclamation of devotion. He found you and he’ll find you again, so why bother trying to run? 

You shut off the kitchen light and flit into the bedroom. You gather up a set of pajamas. A white tee and short pairing with little sliced oranges stamped into the fabric. You lock yourself in the bathroom and face yourself in the mirror. You look just as afraid as you feel. 

You lay out the pajamas to one side of the sink and put on the fluffy headband that keeps your hair out of the way. You start your usual routine, the familiarity the only comfort you have left. Brushing flossing, exfoliating, moisturizing, and toning. It’s the little things you started to make yourself feel better but they just aren’t working this time. 

You hear him return as you button up the pajama top. You stare at the door with dread and gather up your shirt and skirt, along with your panties and bra. You teeter on the balls of your feet, trying to find whatever you might call courage. He gets there first. 

The knock makes you jump. You quickly go to the door and flip back the lock. He opens the door from the other side before you can. 

“Everything okay?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you answer dumbly as you hug your armful of clothes. 

“Oh, you look... nice. Refreshed.” 

“Um, yeah,” you say as you waver. There’s no room to get around him. 

He steps back and waves you out. You carry the clothing into the bedroom to dump in the hamper and turn to find him looming in the doorway. Great. 

“You smell good,” he purrs as he peels off his shirt. 

“Did you lock the door?” You ask. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout that. You got me here to take care of ya,” he scoffs and hurls the shirt so it just barely clings to the side of the hamper. “Those are some cute jammies.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you look down and pinch the sides of the shorts. 

“Long day,” he stretches and drops his arms, unbuttoning his shorts shamelessly. 

“Yep,” you agree, “be nice to sleep.” 

You go to the edge of the bed and slip beneath the duvet. You tuck your chin down as you hug yourself beneath the fluffy cover and keep your back to him. He flips the light off and you nearly whimper. The bed dips behind you and cool air flows under the blanket as he climbs in behind you. 

You’re not surprised when he swathes you in his thick arm. He pulls you against him, his furry chest flush to you as he purrs. You grasp his forearm and squirm as his heat surrounds you. He nuzzles your hair and plumes hot breath over your scalp. 

“Ain’t this nice? I could spend every night like this,” he growls as he keeps you curled up in one arm as his other hand trails down your side. “Never slept much over in the s—over there.” 

You squeak and stare into the static darkness. You tremble and force out a yawn. Maybe he’ll get the hint. For once. 

“I’m tired too, sweetie,” he toys with the bottom button on your shirt, “I know I’ll sleep all nice and cozy with you.”  

His fingers tickle your lower stomach and crawl beneath the cotton. You go rigid as he creeps up your soft flesh and you latch onto him as you try to stop him. He presses his lips to your crown. 

“Don’t be bad,” he warns in a gristle. 

You let him go with a babble. He brings his hand to cover one side of your chest. He squeezes and lets out a raspy groan. He rolls his hips and you feel he’s in need again. You close your eyes and brace yourself. It’s worse than the couch. You’ve laid yourself down in his trap. 

“You’re so soft, sweetie,” he fondles you, swirling his rough fingertips around your nipple, “so warm...” he inhales your scent and snarls, “you got me hurtin’ so bad.” 

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 6

Summary: Negan gets a proper introduction to Y/N's children, attempting to get to know them. Joel finds out about it and he's not too happy to hear about the time that his children are spending with the man from his past.

Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Joel Miller, Elizabeth, Peter, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155201419

Warnings: Swearing, angst, bickering, dirty talk, etc.

Notes: Thanks again to those that read the story. This chapter has both boys in it again. I think they are both in most of the chapters from here on out.

“Hello?” Elizabeth’s voice called out when she entered her mother’s home. Instead of just barging in like she had done the night before, Elizabeth wanted to make her presence known. Thankfully when she entered the home she lived at with her mother, the Christmas decorations were lit up alerting her to the fact that her mother was most likely awake. It was morning and something smelled incredible. Moving further into the house, she entered the kitchen to see Negan and her mother making breakfast together laughing. Just seeing the two of them like that had Elizabeth stepping back. With how happy the two of them looked it reminded her of what her parents had been like when she was little. It had been a long time since she saw her mother laugh like that. Negan was behind her mother, his arms reaching around her to help her finish whatever they were cooking. An uneasy breath fell from her throat when Negan stole a quick kiss from her mother. “Mom?”

“Oh hey honey,” Y/N was surprised to see her daughter, turning to face her to show that she was still wearing her pajamas. Negan was in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank top that Elizabeth assumed used to be her father’s that her mother loaned him. She didn’t know how she felt about that. “We were making breakfast for all of us.”

It had been a long time since she had seen her parents making breakfast together like that. Smiling, laughing and working together. It was shocking to see and what was even more mind blowing was how happy her mother looked with Negan. For that small moment she remembered what it was like when she was young with her mom and dad, but it had been a long time since they had been that happy together.

“Hey kiddo,” Negan nodded over toward the kitchen table where scrambled eggs and some fresh fruit were already prepared. “We’re making the sausage gravy right now and the biscuits will be out of the oven in a minute.”

“I didn’t know you could bake and cook,” Elizabeth gazed upon Negan who gave her a cheesy, big smile.

“There are a lot of things that you probably don’t know,” Negan winked, going back to working on what he was doing on the stove. “I like to be a man of mystery sometimes. It keeps things interesting.”

“He says that, but once you get him talking, he won’t shut up,” Y/N teased, reaching out to poke at Negan’s ribs. It had him laughing, arching away from her and Elizabeth was surprised how quickly these two seemed to be at ease with one another. A loud snort fell from Negan which involuntarily made Elizabeth laugh. “See, he’s no heartthrob. He’s just a massive dork.”

“I’m heavily offended,” Negan asserted, placing his hand in over his chest to feign being hurt by the comment. Looking back at Elizabeth again, Negan nodded his head about dramatically. “Actually, your mom is right. I have a big mouth and I talk way too much. I just tried to keep my private life away from the public. No baseball fan wants to hear that their favorite player loves to bake.”

“You’d be surprised,” Elizabeth commented, stepping forward to look at the things that Negan and her mother were working on. “Do you need some help with something?”

“We’re almost done here. Unless you want to grab some juice from the fridge for everyone?” Y/N asked of her daughter, stepping forward to place a quick kiss at her daughter’s temple.  

With a nod, Elizabeth went to grab some glasses. Putting them on the table, she spun on her heel to go for the refrigerator. Stopping, she looked back again hearing Negan humming a song out loud. Watching the two of them together had a lot of mixed emotions flooding through Elizabeth. Elizabeth had only met Negan last night and he was a stranger to her. Just someone she grew up watching on the television. But with her mother? It looked like Negan had known her for a lifetime with how comfortable they were together. Playfully Negan nudged Y/N with his hip and it had her giggling.

Shaking off the feeling that she was experiencing, Elizabeth opened the fridge and grabbed the juice. Closing the door after she pulled it out, she headed back for the table and poured some into each glass. Setting the bottle at the center, she then headed to take a seat for herself.

“Are you okay with me cutting open the biscuits and putting the sausage gravy on top of them?” Negan confirmed with Elizabeth, looking back at her with his big hazel eyes. Quickly she nodded clearing her throat uneasily when he went back to finishing things up.

It seemed like Negan did her plate first and handed it to Y/N to give to her before going back to working on the last two plates. Y/N carried the plate over to the table, scooping some of the scrambled eggs out of the serving bowl that was at the center of the table. And then went to grab two regular pieces of sausage for Elizabeth.

“I don’t mind doing that,” Elizabeth offered, holding her hand out. There was a bit of color in Elizabeth’s face and it made Y/N smile that her daughter was embarrassed.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m just used to being your mother and taking care of you,” Y/N lowered the plate down for Elizabeth to finish gathering what she wanted. Pushing the individual bowl of fresh fruit closer to Elizabeth, Y/N also put the other two bowls where her and Negan would be sitting.

“Oh! Don’t forget about the blueberry muffins we made,” Negan snapped his fingers pointing toward the blueberry muffins that were cooling on the counter. It made Elizabeth smile when she realized how big this breakfast was turning out to be.

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me,” Elizabeth stated and it made Negan’s eyebrows bounce up when he turned to face them holding his and Y/N’s plates in his hands.

“I was just really hungry,” Negan insisted with another big, cheeky smile moving toward the table to set the plates down. Turning back, he grabbed some of the muffins and set them at the center of the table. “I’ve already eaten two of these and trust me, they are better when they are warm. So I’d have one if I were you.”

Nodding, Elizabeth reached out to grab one of the muffins to set it beside her plate. Noticing the way that Y/N was smiling at Negan when he took his time sitting down still was weird for Elizabeth. It was nice seeing her mother happy, but this was new and this was fast.

Starting off with the muffin, Elizabeth took a bite of it and was pleasantly surprised how good it tasted. Then again, her mother was always a good baker so she wasn’t sure how much of it was Negan and how much of it was Y/N.

Swallowing down her food, Elizabeth looked between Y/N and Negan while she poked at her food, “I don’t want to sound rude or ungrateful, but do you mind if I ask the both of you what is going on here?”

“Breakfast?” Negan spoke with a mouthful of one of the blueberry muffins that he had grabbed. Even if she didn’t want to laugh, there was something about the facial expression that Negan had that made her giggle.

“That’s…that’s not what I mean,” Elizabeth tried to hold herself together at how simply put Negan said that. Setting her fork down, Elizabeth knew that this was something that was actually important so she wanted to give the two of them her full attention in this moment. “I mean between the two of you. I only just found out the other day that the two of you were really good friends. And then suddenly Negan Smith is in our home and the two of you look like something out of a romance film.”

That comment had both Negan and Y/N looking to each other. Color flooded into Y/N’s face and a smirk tugged at Negan’s handsome features, “Are the two of you dating?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Y/N looked to Negan who was allowing her to answer the questions since Elizabeth was her daughter. “We just had a date last night and the two of us are enjoying being around each other right now. Negan is only going to be here for the holidays and we…”

“Missed each other,” Negan finished for Y/N with a charming smile that made some color flood into Elizabeth’s cheeks. Hearing them talking about each other like that was pretty hard to comprehend and take in for her. “I understand how this could be uncomfortable for you Liz and if you have any questions about me…or us…I’m willing to answer them.”

“What did you call me?” Elizabeth demanded with Negan’s long eyelashes fluttering. Looking to Y/N, Negan seemed to panic before looking back again. “Did you call me Liz?”

“Your mother said you wanted to be called Liz when we were talking about you last night. I just thought…” Negan stuttered, clearing his throat uneasily. By her reaction to him calling her that, he thought that Y/N’s daughter seemed angry. “I’m sorry Elizabeth.”

“No, I’m okay with being called Liz. I’m just surprised you know my name,” Elizabeth liked that someone she had looked up to for so long actually knew who she was. “I don’t mind you calling me Liz. It’s hard for me to think that you know about me.”

“You were one of our biggest topics of discussion last night and this morning. Of course I know your name,” Negan assured her letting out a sigh of relief since he thought he had done something wrong originally. “I mean what I said though. Any questions you have, I’ll answer.”

Pushing her hair back over her shoulder, Elizabeth gave a nod. Dropping her hands down at her sides, she curled her fingers around the edge of the seat and sighed, “Did the two of you have sex?”

Hearing that so bluntly asked had Y/N choking on what she had in her mouth. Instead of being offended, Negan just seemed to laugh at how quickly that was brought up.

“I’m sure he’s okay with you asking questions, but nothing like that,” Y/N pled with her daughter knowing that Elizabeth probably could answer that herself after everything. The truth was that they had slept together multiple times during the night and the morning, but she wasn’t about to tell her daughter that. “Please.”

“Maybe we can keep the questions non-pornographic?” Negan requested, teasing Elizabeth in the moment. A tiny snort fell from him again and the color grew back into Elizabeth’s cheeks. Embarrassment flooded throughout her veins realizing that was probably too much of a question to ask. But Negan did seem rather amused with her bluntness instead of being offended. Elizabeth’s brown eyes seemed to want to avoid meeting his stare now. “You’re still a kid after all.”

“I’m not a kid,” Elizabeth was quick to correct Negan, not wanting to be viewed as a child in the situation. Smirking, Negan gave a nod of his head and Y/N pushed her chair a little away from the table.

“You’re still my child and you’re not eighteen yet,” Y/N reminded her daughter of things, reaching out to extend her hand to place it in over Elizabeth’s. Squeezing softly at her hand, Y/N wanted to show that she supported her daughter but still wanted to stress that she wasn’t an adult yet.

“Then can I ask if you want to date my mom?” Elizabeth looked to Negan again after Y/N pulled her hand away. Reaching for the fork that she had put down, Elizabeth started to poke at the scrambled eggs while Negan chewed. Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced up with a muscle flexing at the corner of his jaw. “Like are you calling yourself her boyfriend or something?”

“I don’t think we’ve really talked about that yet,” Negan responded the best way he knew how. “We’re just two people that used to be close and we’re enjoying each other’s company while I’m here.”

“You won’t hurt her?” Elizabeth questioned and she felt like she sounded like a parent right now instead of a teenager who was meeting their celebrity idol.

“I don’t plan to,” Negan stated with a shrug of his shoulders looking to Y/N who was gazing back and forth between the two. “I hurt your mother a long time ago by letting our friendship slip through my fingers and I want to make up for that.”

“So I should expect to see more of you then?” Elizabeth confirmed with Negan. Nodding his head while he swallowed down his food, Negan looked to Y/N for confirmation. “More than just Christmas time?”

“I’d hope so,” Negan took another bite of his breakfast, waving his fork about afterwards. “With my schedule, I’ll do my best. I’d like to get to know her better along with you and your little brother. I should have been here all along to do that.”

“So…does that mean you want to be like our dad now?” Elizabeth wasn’t sure how to take that. Immediately Negan shook his head.

“No, I don’t ever expect to take the position of your father. I know the two of you have a good relationship with him,” Negan felt odd talking about marriage, dating and all of this when it was just the first night they spent together. Only more so because he didn’t want to rush things. He felt comfortable with Y/N, but he didn’t want to scare her away. “You both sound like awesome kids and I’d just like to get to know you more.”

“Dad told me that mom wanted you to be my godfather,” Elizabeth recalled what Joel had informed her of the other day. Maybe it was stupid to mention it, but after Joel said it, it had been lingering in her mind for days.

“And I wish I would have been around to have that opportunity,” Negan stressed, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Looking to Y/N, a large amount of empathy seemed to flood into Negan’s features knowing that was something Y/N wanted. “I would have been so lucky to be your godfather.”

“It would have given me awesome bragging rights,” Elizabeth added eliciting a loud laugh from Negan with her response to it. “Seriously. Could you imagine? Me getting to go around and tell everyone that you were my godfather? People would be so jealous.”

“Who is your godfather?” Negan wondered looking between both Elizabeth and Y/N.

“Uncle Tommy,” Elizabeth was quick to answer, shrugging her shoulders at the idea of it. “It still blows my mind that you were so close to my parents. When my dad said you were best friends, I didn’t believe it. Then he told me you were closer to my mom.”

“Well, your Uncle Tommy is a good man,” Negan conceded, taking another big bite of the food that was on his plate. Waving his fork about, Negan thought back to when they were children. “Your mother was always my best friend. I can’t remember how we met, but we were together all the time. And then your dad and your Uncle Tommy moved to town and they just became part of our group. After your mother knocked out a bully for Tommy, we were pretty much inseparable.”

“Dad told me about that,” Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh and it had Y/N lowering her head to bury it in her hand. “I can’t believe you beat that kid with a hockey stick!”

“Your dad did not tell you that!” Y/N seemed offended, dropping her hand down so fast that it smacked against the table. Warmth flooded into Y/N’s features at the idea that Joel told their daughter about how she attacked someone. Both Elizabeth and Negan were laughing at her response. “I hit him once with the hockey stick just to get him to let go of your Uncle Tommy!”

“It echoed throughout the entire street,” Negan reminded Y/N, setting his fork down for a moment. Acting like he was holding a hockey stick, Negan made a popping sound when he pretended he was hitting someone with it. Groaning out, Y/N dropped her head down into her hand again. “And as soon as he dropped your Uncle Tommy, the fists started swinging.”

“Dad said you beat him so bad that he wouldn’t tell anyone because you were a girl and he was embarrassed,” Elizabeth added to the conversation drawing Y/N to drop back against the seat. Folding her arms in front of her chest, Y/N shook her head slowly. “Dad said he was afraid of you after that.”

“Your mom could kick some serious ass,” Negan alerted Elizabeth evoking a glare from Y/N when she looked to him. Throwing his hands up, he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “I mean it. No one fucked with you because you would whoop their ass. You were a badass.”

“It’s so hard to picture you like that now,” Elizabeth was amused to hear about that side of her mother. “You really had a lot of fire in you, huh?”

“I did,” Y/N admitted, tipping her head from side to side. She never lied to Elizabeth before so she wasn’t going to start now. “I had a problem with people being assholes. Especially since the boy bullying your Uncle Tommy was my age. It pissed me off. If someone was an asshole, I would put them in their place no questions asked. But I don’t condone that behavior now of course.”

“I think it’s cool,” Elizabeth responded with another amused sound. “Knowing you were a badass does make things more interesting.”

“Your Uncle Tommy thought he was the biggest bad ass being part of our group. He was five years younger than me and your dad. And he would get to hang out with people our age. All the kids his age were jealous of him. Or scared I guess,” Negan thought aloud, reaching for another blueberry muffin. “If someone stepped out of line, they would have had to deal with one of the three of us.”

“I wish that wouldn’t have changed,” Elizabeth sighed loudly, entertained at the idea of it but sad in a way that she missed out on that.

“Yeah, me too,” Negan dropped down his hand to place it in over Y/N’s knee. Patting it a few times, Negan squeezed gently and then smiled when Y/N lowered her hand to place hers over his.

“I’m still going to throw some shade at you about stealing those bragging rights away from me,” Elizabeth pushed, almost in a joking tone when she went back to eating.

“What can I do to make up for it?” Negan questioned, pulling his hand out from underneath Y/N’s. Tapping his hands over the top of the table brought Elizabeth’s attention back to him. Stretching out his arms, he threw them up in the air. Elizabeth didn’t know how to respond to that. “What can we do now to give you bragging rights?”

“Careful,” Y/N warned Negan knowing that her daughter might have a field day with what he was asking. Rubbing his hands together, Negan didn’t seem to mind whatever would be thrown his way. He wanted to make a good impression with Elizabeth. He made that very obvious.

“If she wants to show off to her friends somehow, we can do whatever,” Negan allowed that idea to be thrown out there, waving his hand about as he spoke. “I dropped the ball when it came to being her godfather, so if I can make up for it some other way. I’d like to.”

“Bullshit,” Elizabeth stammered causing Negan to laugh out loud. While Elizabeth picked up a lot of her father’s features, the expression she just made reminded Negan so much of Y/N when she was younger.

Truthfully? Looking at Elizabeth also had a shit load of emotions flooding throughout Negan. Back when they were younger, Negan could have never pictured Joel and Y/N having a child together. But, here one of them were. And she really did seem to be a mix of both of her parents. Negan picked up on it so quickly.

“Well, I mean within reason of course,” Negan stressed, biting down at his bottom lip knowing that it was best to throw that out there just in case. Y/N still thought this was brave, but she was waiting for Elizabeth’s response. “You know, to make up for the way things went down.”

“Can I take a selfie with you and post it on my socials?” Elizabeth pushed, a range of excitement flooding into her younger features. Looking to Y/N, Negan wanted her to give him a silent answer to make sure it was okay with her first.

“They aren’t going to show up at our house wanting to do the same, are they?” Y/N inquired seeing her daughter immediately shake her head. Even if they did show up at the house, Elizabeth would assure them that they wouldn’t because she wanted this.

“I mean Lydia might want to meet him, but she’s my best friend so…” Elizabeth stressed looking between the two of them. Getting up from the table, Negan moved around it and knelt down beside Elizabeth. Allowing Elizabeth to take a photo of the two of them, he noticed that she was posting it on something saying she was having breakfast with ‘the’ Negan Smith.

“You’re still such a teenager,” her mother smirked, reaching out to squeeze her hand in over her daughter’s wrist noticing that Elizabeth got a bit embarrassed at how she reacted. Hearing the notifications going off on her daughter’s phone made Y/N look to Negan who gave her a wink. Successfully, Elizabeth got what she wanted. Bragging rights.

Getting up, Negan went back to his seat in attempts to finish his breakfast. Instead of looking at her phone, Elizabeth pushed it forward on the kitchen table and looked between them. There was a sense of pride that ran through Elizabeth after the move she pulled.

“Your mother tells me that you play softball,” Negan changed the subject for a moment after taking a big bite of one of the biscuits that was covered with gravy. “She says you’re really good at it. Did you want to go professional with it?”

“Professional? Probably not,” Elizabeth answered, her eyes falling to her phone that once again buzzed. Y/N felt like her daughter was probably desperate to see who it was but she was trying to act levelheaded in front of Negan. “It’s not the same for women like it is men. But it has been helpful with college. I can still play when I’m in college. Do something I love while also focusing on my education.”

“That’s very smart,” Negan applauded her for her decision, snickering when her phone vibrated again. “We’ll have to throw a ball around one day. See how strong of an arm you got there.”

“That’d be really awesome. I’d like that,” Elizabeth confessed with a huge smile.

This was really something special to Elizabeth and Y/N knew that. This was someone Elizabeth looked up to and he was treating her extremely good. It actually impressed Y/N with how good Negan was being around her daughter. It was their first day back with spending a lot of time together and he was already taking on the job of making her daughter feel comfortable around him. That made Y/N happy and showed that Negan meant what he said about things.

“Does dad know about this?” Elizabeth broke the silence that had fallen upon them for a while so they could eat their breakfast. Even though she was very happy about everything and geeked out, she couldn’t help but let her father linger on her mind.

“Which part?” Y/N didn’t know how to respond because there was a lot going on.

“That the two of you are spending time together?” Elizabeth spoke before going to eat some of the breakfast that they made for her.

“If he didn’t, he sure does now,” Negan pointed toward Elizabeth’s phone, giving a half smirk. “Unless he doesn’t follow your socials.”

“He doesn’t,” Elizabeth was quick to answer Negan with a shake of her head. In fact, it made her smile because one thing about Joel was that he absolutely hated the internet. Social media didn’t make much sense to him and while Joel was good at most things, he wasn’t incredibly good with computers. “He doesn’t really like technology things. He’s not very good at them. Mom is always having to fix his laptop for him because he just doesn’t…get it.”

“Your father knew that I was going on a date with him last night,” Y/N was honest with her daughter wanting to be as open as she could possibly be with her.

“And he was okay with that?” Elizabeth was curious and it had Y/N looking down toward her plate. Poking at her food, Y/N knew that Joel had been on her mind all night, but with Negan here it wasn’t the time or place.

“Baby I love you,” Y/N began, speaking softly so that she didn’t seem to have any anger toward Elizabeth or Joel from the start. “And while I care a lot about your father, whether he’s upset about us spending time together or not is not really something I want to stress about.”

Was she scared about Joel’s reaction to things? Of course. It was something that Y/N had thought about all night after she had slept with Negan the first time. There was no questioning that Joel would be furious with her for sleeping with Negan. Deep down she knew that. All she could do was compare both Joel and Negan all night long. But if she worried about Joel’s response? She was never going to be able to relax.

“Your father dated Tess off and on for years,” Y/N reminded her daughter, not wanting to sound too angry about things. “And not once did someone ask me if I was okay with it because at the end of the day, it wasn’t my place to be angry or accepting of it. It was your father’s life and he was doing what he wanted.”

“You’re right,” Elizabeth had taken a moment to think about what her mother said. There wasn’t much more that she could say really because she was aware just how true that statement was. So she went back to eating.

A moment later Negan nudged Y/N with his arm to get her to look at him. With a nod of encouragement he was letting her know that he thought her answer was a good one. It was nice knowing that Negan had her back to let her know that she didn’t fuck up in that moment. His wink told her that.

“Are you really retiring because of your knee?” Elizabeth stammered after a few moments of silence and it had Negan lifting his head. Arching his eyebrow, Negan’s expression was confused where she was going. “I’ve just seen people talk on the internet about why you were really retiring. You’ve hurt your knee twice. Everyone knows that. But the whole sticking around for another season thing. Does that mean your knee is good enough for you to keep playing?”

“Yeah, I’m retiring because of my knee,” Negan replied, swallowing down hard when his career was brought to the table. “When I hurt my knee the first time I was told that I shouldn’t have gone back. But I did. I loved the game too much. And then I hurt it the second time. I just don’t think I ever felt the same again after that injury. I’m slowing down and I was told that I was going to have to get surgery on my knee again. But I’m putting it off. I wanted to have one last go before I retired officially. I’m getting older anyways and I should stop before I’m no longer good at what I do.”

“Most people play until they suck,” Elizabeth brought up other players hating to hear that his retirement was legit.

“I can’t be that person,” Negan spoke honestly realizing that he had thought about that a lot too. “I don’t want to be forced to quit because I’m so bad. I want to go out while I’m still good at what I do. Where I’m still at the top. Because then I can have a final year where people still love me. I’ve seen some of the much older guys overstay their welcome and instead of being supportive, the fans turn on them. I don’t want that to happen with me.”  

“Can I see your knee?” Elizabeth wondered, her brown eyes getting big with Negan snickering. She was hopping all over the place, but it amused Negan. It was typical for a young kid to be scatter minded when someone they looked up to was around. He was used to this over the years he had been a baseball player meeting fans.

“It’s just a knee,” Y/N chuckled but Elizabeth shrugged. With another smirk, Negan stood up from the table and moved in beside Elizabeth. Bending over, he rolled up the pant leg of the sweatpants. Pretty quickly, she turned in her seat to observe Negan’s knee. You couldn’t miss the scars from Negan’s surgeries but it didn’t look as bad as Negan clearly thought it did.

“I would have killed that guy that purposely did that to you,” Elizabeth snorted with an angered sound, sliding back into her seat. “Everyone knows he did it because you were destroying them. With you on the team, there was no losing. Plowing into your knee from behind? That was such a shitty thing to do. And what did it get him? He’s no longer playing. And you still are. Fucking loser he was.”

“Elizabeth!” Y/N was surprised to hear her daughter talking like that which had Negan amused as he rolled his pants back down over his leg.

“I’m not a child anymore! Plus, that’s what dad said back then too!” Elizabeth defended herself, placing her hand in over the center of her chest. “I learned everything I know from him. We watch sports together all the time. That guy that hurt Negan was a fucking loser. If he wanted to win, he could have done it fair and square instead of going after the best player on the team like that.”

“I don’t really know what to say,” Negan began, heading back over to his seat to sit down. “Unfortunately, injuries like mine are the most common for a lot of baseball players. It could have happened to me at any point, but it was sad that another player did that to me purposely.”

“Did you at least punch the guy out?” Elizabeth begged for some kind of answer which had Y/N looking to Negan.

“I wanted to, but my wife did instead,” Negan huffed hearing both the girls laugh. “If you remember that game, it caused a huge fight on the field. The coach on the other team forced that guy to apologize to me as they were loading me into an ambulance. My wife was at the game and when he approached us, she just full on right hooked him. Hit him so hard that she broke his nose and there was blood everywhere.”

“Your…” the smile slowly faded from Elizabeth’s face when she tore her stare away from Negan and to her mother. “Your wife? I forgot that you were married.”

“I was,” Negan stressed his words, reaching for the necklace that he wore to bring it forward to show the wedding rings that were there. Worry had filled Elizabeth at that point because she was obviously nervous that her mother was spending time with a married man. “She passed away a few years ago.”

“That…that makes sense,” Elizabeth frowned, setting her fork down. Guilt started to eat away at her. By the expression over Negan’s face it had upset him some talking about his late wife. “I remember you talking about her all the time when I was little and then you didn’t. That’s probably why…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“You didn’t know,” Negan lowered his necklace back down, outstretching his hand to give Elizabeth’s hand a firm squeeze.

A buzzing filled the air drawing all of their attention to Elizabeth’s phone seeing that it was Peter calling her. Instead of answering, Elizabeth kept eating and there was a certain smirk that was over Elizabeth’s face that said she knew Peter was calling about Negan. The call ended and then Peter started calling her again which had Elizabeth avoiding it once more.

“Elizabeth,” Y/N called out to her daughter seeing that there was amusement across her daughter’s face. “You’re teasing your brother.”

“You know just as much as I do that he’s going to call me a few more times and then he’s going to call you,” Elizabeth suggested pointing at the phone. Peter called one more time before Y/N heard her cell phone ringing on the counter. “See. You better be prepared because once Peter knows that you are here he is going to want to come over here to meet you too. And if you think I talk too much, wait until he is here.”

“I’m okay with that,” Negan gave the go ahead with a nod when Y/N pushed her seat back to go head over to grab her phone. “The only thing I have to do later is go to my mother’s house for dinner. But if the three of you want, you can come with me. My mother loved your mother. So I think she would be excited to see her.”

“You’d let us meet your mother?” Elizabeth seemed shocked that Negan was so willing and open to include them in his life.

“It’s not exactly a good thing,” Negan teased Elizabeth with a wink. “She is my mother after all.”

“Yep. Peter is coming home immediately,” Y/N hung up her phone causing Negan to snort. “He’s desperate to meet you too.”

“I just invited you and the kids to come with me to my mother’s house tonight for dinner,” Negan adjusted Y/N’s chair so she could sit down in it easier. “That’s if you want to.”

“It’s supposed to be Joel’s time with them,” Y/N responded having Elizabeth hush Y/N from speaking any further. “I’m just saying I don’t know how your father would feel with you spending one of his days with us instead of with him.”

“We’ll go to dad’s house after the dinner, but do you really think it would be cool for him to turn away time with my favorite athlete?” Elizabeth desperately wanted to be around Negan more and it was obvious. An amused rumble of a breath fell from Negan’s lips before he went back to eating. “And you know that Peter is going to eat up most of Negan’s time when he gets here.”

“As long as I don’t get in trouble with your father for it?” Y/N rambled on, looking to Negan who gave her a smile. “Then I’m completely okay with it.”

----

Well today did not go how Y/N thought it would. At first it did. Peter came home and he immediately was full of questions for Negan. Peter snacked on some of the cupcakes and muffins that they had made while they all sat together to talk in the living room. Which was really just Elizabeth and Peter asking Negan hundreds of questions that he tried to answer for them. It was mostly about baseball and being famous, but he answered every single one of them. It surprised her how much patience Negan had for them. But she appreciated that he did.

The day went by quickly and before she knew it, it was time for them to go to dinner at Negan’s mother’s home. Even though Negan’s mother was someone she grew up with, she wanted to make a good impression with her. So they all got dressed nicely. Both her and the children. Because Negan didn’t have any clothes at her house, he just put on what he had worn the night before with her for their date.

What was surprising was learning where Negan’s mother lived. She still lived in the childhood home that Negan grew up in. For some reason, she thought that Negan’s mother moved out of that home when Negan’s father passed away. Then again, she really lost all contact with Negan after they stopped being friends. Maybe she publicly ignored things with Negan’s mother to force herself not to care about him anymore.

There were two problems with coming to dinner here. The first? Negan’s childhood home was right next to her parents’ home. The reason Negan and Y/N were so close is because they were neighbors. They were never too far from each other. After Y/N had gotten pregnant with Elizabeth, her parents had kicked her out of their home. They wanted her to get an abortion and she refused. So they wrote her off completely. And that never changed. It had been over eighteen years since she had spoken to either one of her parents. That didn’t mean she didn’t try though in the past. They lived in the same small town after all. There were moments where she saw them and tried to interact with them. Get them to realize that they had grandchildren that could use them in their lives, but they didn’t care. Nothing broke down that wall they put up after they cut her off completely. Elizabeth and Peter never met any of their grandparents. All they ever knew was their parents and Tommy. So being next to her parents’ home? Yeah, that was really uncomfortable and brought back painful memories.

The less painful, but just as uncomfortable thing was that Joel and Tommy’s home was down the street. The reason they were all so close as children was because they lived by each other. Joel’s parents’ home was down the street from them. That was the first home she shared with Joel. They lived their together until they both could afford to move to the home that she lived in now. After they got divorced? That was the home that Joel moved back into with Tommy who was still living there at the time.

A lot of her fears were put to rest when they got here though. Negan’s mother welcomed her with open arms like there was no time gap between. How Negan’s mother treated her back when she was a child was the same way she did now. She was welcoming, friendly and very sweet. The children really seemed to like her and vice versa. Negan’s mother treated Y/N like she was still that girl that lived next door. And she was very doting on both Elizabeth and Peter.

Considering Peter and Elizabeth never had grandparents, they actually seemed to cling to Negan’s mother while they spent time there. It wasn’t often they got attention from others. So they were eating it up. Also, they were both just so incredibly excited to be spending time with Negan. They had to stress that like every five minutes. Which Negan no doubt liked. They always made him laugh and smile. That was nice to see.

During dinner a snowstorm started. One that they weren’t really prepared for. It was a heavy one that the weather channel was reporting as dangerous to be outside in. It would be impossible for her to drive home. And that meant she was stuck here.

And right now? The four of them sat together on the couch in the living room watching Christmas movies together. Negan’s mother had set them all up with desserts before going to bed for the night. Before she made sure Y/N knew that she had set the guest room up for Y/N to stay for the night.

They were two movies in at this point. And surprisingly the children had managed to stay quiet during the movies. Well, that’s what Y/N thought at least. Especially since they had been talking Negan’s head off during the rest of the day.

“I think Peter is drooling on Negan,” Elizabeth finally spoke up, interrupting their silence to draw attention to Peter. Tired himself, Negan looked beside him to gaze at Peter. Peter’s head was resting on Negan’s shoulder, his deep breaths were filling the air. “He is such a child. Eats a ton and then falls right asleep. He’s like a baby.”

“I don’t mind,” Negan snickered, reaching up with his left hand to rub at his tired eyes. “When I was his age I used to pass right out if I was sitting by a warm fire after eating a bunch of treats and a big dinner. So I can’t say I blame him. It’s getting late anyways…”

“Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t like to be sleeping on Negan,” Y/N teased her daughter hearing Elizabeth groan out and cover her face. Negan’s laugh followed and Elizabeth shook her head.

“It’s kind of creepy now. Isn’t it?” Elizabeth eyed over Negan and Y/N who were seated at the middle of the couch holding hands. “If you would have told me the two of you were this close? I would have never let the celebrity crush get so big. Trust me, the crush is slowly leaving.”

“Slowly?” Negan’s eyebrow arched in amusement drawing Y/N’s daughter to grow red. Falling back against the couch, she pulled her legs up against her chest and it made Negan giggle. “It’s okay. I crushed on my mom’s friends when I was younger too.”

“You’re not just her friend,” Elizabeth was quiet in the way she spoke because she didn’t want to draw Peter’s attention to what she knew about Negan with their mom. “So yeah. It’s a little creepy and it will be gone soon. I’m forcing it to go away.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N frowned and Elizabeth held her hand up to stop her mom from going forward.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just try to erase from our minds that I crushed on him,” Elizabeth made a disgusted expression. Negan attempted to hide his laugh and Y/N nudged him with her shoulder. They were having small amounts of fun teasing her about it, but at the same time she actually understood why it would make her daughter uncomfortable. It was a tense situation. “Dad was right. It was weird for me to be crushing on someone his age anyways.”

“It was innocent,” Negan suggested with a shrug of his shoulders trying to not make Elizabeth feel even worse about things.

There was a knock on the door, interrupting their time talking and it made Negan look back over his shoulder. Looking at the time, Negan grumbled under his breath and sighed loudly, “Who could be here this late at night?”

Adjusting Peter, Negan was careful in the way that he moved. He didn’t want to wake Peter up since he seemed to be really out cold. Helping Peter to rest against the arm of the couch instead, Negan didn’t rush it. Watching Negan being so good with her son took Y/N’s breath away. It was nice to see.

Tip toeing toward the door, Negan unlocked it and started to slowly open it up. A moment later the door was pushed open firmly with a huff escaping Negan’s throat. Being pushed aside, Negan stumbled back and grumbled under his breath when he realized who it was, “Please Joel, come in.”

“Joel?” Y/N repeated what Negan said, her heart skipping a beat. Sitting forward on the couch, her eyes grew wide when Joel stepped in beside the couch. His glare locked with hers and it was very obvious by the expression over Joel’s face that he was angry. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Joel scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. Back at the door, Negan was closing things up. Tension flooded the room with Joel’s dark eyes locked on Y/N’s as if he was waiting for something from her. A thin layer of snow was covering Joel from the snowstorm that was still undoubtedly going. “It’s my night with the children. So I came to pick them up and walk them home.”

“We were just finishing a movie dad,” Elizabeth acknowledged, nodding toward the television. Side stepping, Joel looked to the television to eye over what was on the screen. A muscle was flexing at Joel’s jaw that had Y/N ill at ease. That was definitely a sign that he was angry. And she wasn’t really sure why. “Do you want to finish it with us?”

“No, I don’t,” Joel felt the warmth of someone moving in behind him and he quickly shifted to allow Negan to move in beside the couch. Looking down, Joel saw that Peter was sleeping heavily and he shook his head. Snapping his fingers, Joel expected it to wake Peter up, but it wasn’t working. “Buddy?”

“Just let him sleep?” Negan recommended, nodding over toward the chair that was in the corner. “I can pull the chair in closer, you can sit with Peter and we can keep watching the movie if you’d like? I can grab you a cup of hot chocolate, let you warm up. My mother made this dessert that Y/N and the kids really liked so I’m sure you’d enjoy it. Maybe after the movie you could wake Peter up and…” the sound of Joel clapping his hands together firmly echoed throughout the room causing Peter’s head to shoot up. The sound had scared him awake and Negan sighed loudly. “Or not.”

“Dad?” Peter’s dark eyes blinked a few times trying to register what was going on. Rubbing at his eyes, Peter yawned and forced himself to sit up straighter. “What are you doing here?”

“The snow is really starting to come down. And it’s getting late. I wanted to come get the two of you before it was too dangerous for you to walk home,” Joel explained, outstretching his hand toward Elizabeth. Confusion flooded her young features with Y/N placing her hand in over Elizabeth’s knee. “Come on Ellie, it’s time to go home.”

“Joel. It’s a few houses down. I’m sure they would have been fine,” Y/N couldn’t help but think there was more going on here. Especially with how angrily Joel stormed into the house. “And if it got bad, they could have just stayed in the guest room with me.”

“Why would they do that when they have their own bedrooms just a few houses down?” Joel’s southern drawl grew angrier. Beside Joel, Negan seemed uneasy as he pushed his hands into the pockets of the dark slacks that he was wearing. Narrowing his eyes, Negan kept his stare on Joel while Joel rocked back and forth on his feet. “That doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“How did you even know we were here?” Elizabeth blurt out, curious to know what led Joel to coming here in the first place. Silence filled the room until Joel looked to Peter. And in that moment? Everyone else looked to Peter too. Innocently shrugging his shoulders, Peter threw his hands up in the air. “Pete?!”

“He asked what we were doing with mom and I was honest. I told him where we were. I thought it was super cool. I didn’t know I had to be quiet about it,” Peter defended himself throwing both of his hands to his chest. “I just texted him at the end of the last movie.”

“I should have been told to begin with,” Joel interrupted Peter, throwing his hand about. Connecting eyes with Y/N, Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. “Why wasn’t I told where you were going? I think I had the right to know.”

“Because I don’t tell you everything Joel,” Y/N stood up from the couch finding this whole thing to be ridiculous. “Going to Negan’s mother’s house for a dinner so they could meet his mom didn’t seem like such a big deal.”

“I should be able to have a say in who my children spend their time with,” Joel snapped, pointing his finger out at her in a moment of anger.

“Dad?” Peter stood up from the couch hating to see that his parents were angry with each other. It had been a long time since he saw his parents acting like this toward one another. “We’re not babies anymore. We’re teenagers. I hardly tell you who my friends are. I just tell you where I’m going if I’m leaving. We were with mom. Nothing bad was going to happen.”

“And if you wanted us home, we could have just walked home ourselves,” Elizabeth added from where she was still seated on the couch. Right now she didn’t understand why her father was so angry. “It’s really okay.”

“It’s getting dangerous out,” Joel quickly changed his tune, lowering his hand at his side. Clearing his throat, Joel nodded toward the door. “I came here to make sure that the two of you got home safely. I was worried and I didn’t want either of you hurt.”

“Fine,” Elizabeth shrugged, still attempting to understand where all this worry came from. Standing up from the couch, she knew that they weren’t going to be able to finish the film. So before it got any more uneasy, she would just do what Joel wanted. Facing Negan, Elizabeth tried to gather words and it took a minute before she did. “Please thank your mom for us? It was an awesome meal. And it was a lot of fun.”

“Of course,” Negan gave a wink noticing that things got strange as soon as Joel entered the home. “I promise you she feels the same way.”

Back stepping, Negan pointed toward an area and gave a weak smile, “Let me go grab your jackets.”

“We’ll come with you,” Peter announced, waving Elizabeth beside him so they could follow Negan to the closet.

Watching Negan with his children, Joel grunted when Negan grabbed Elizabeth’s jacket. Holding it out for her, Negan helped her get the jacket on before doing the same with Peter. Both of them seemed lost in saying goodbye to Negan.

“You really should have told me this is what you were doing,” Joel whispered so that only she could hear him. “You didn’t tell me for a reason. And I think that’s shady. If I would have known…”

“You would have flipped out,” Y/N finished for him, her eyebrows bouncing up. Joel’s lips parted like he wanted to say something, but he just grumbled something under his breath. Folding her arms in front of her chest, she shook her head and couldn’t believe he came in guns blazing. “Just like you are now. You might want to cool it Rambo.”

Licking his lips, Joel’s eyes narrowed and he didn’t seem too happy with her, “They just wanted to spend some time getting to know Negan. I thought it was innocent, so, I let them. You know Negan and you know his mother. His mother was always amazing with us when we were younger. So don’t pretend like this home was somewhere dangerous for them to be.”

“Right,” Joel’s expression softened, his head nodding when he forced himself to look away from her. “You’re absolutely right.”

“Do you want me to grab some of the dessert that my mother made so you can take some home with you?” Negan’s voice interrupted the two of them, disappointing Joel with his presence.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I eat enough sweets as it is,” Joel began and it looked like he was considering something. “Y’know, I think it’s going to be dangerous driving home tonight. How about you come with us? You can stay in the spare room.”

“My mother already set up the guest room here for her,” Negan informed Joel, moving in beside Y/N with a loud exhale. “I won’t let her drive home. She’ll be safe here. I promise.”

“I’m sure here she will be safe, but at my home, she will be with her family,” Joel attempted to assert his dominance in the moment. Instead of having an impact on Negan, it just made Negan smile. “And I think we’re all safer together.”

“I’ll be right down the street if something happens,” Y/N replied back, reaching out to grab a hold of Joel’s arm to get him to back down. Considering how loud Joel was breathing, it was making it pretty obvious to the children that it was getting awkward between all of them.

“Joel, do you think we can talk for a minute?” Negan requested pointing between both him and Joel. The expression over Joel’s face looked like an immediate fuck no, but when he looked to the children Joel’s features softened. Joel nodded and Negan gave a weak smile to Peter and Elizabeth. “You should go get some of the sweets that my mother made regardless of what your dad said. Christmas time is the best time to allow yourself to eat like a king. Let your dad have some of the dessert. I know my mother would be upset if I didn’t get you to do that. Take your time.”

Pressing his hand in over Joel’s shoulder had Joel pulling out from underneath Negan’s grasp as they headed for the door. Negan wasn’t wearing his suit jacket or his coat when he walked out into the heavy snow with Joel. They moved away from the door and onto the sidewalk with Joel turning on his heel to face Negan. Even though it was later, it was lighter outside with how much snow was falling. A few inches had fallen already and Negan could feel the chill all around him.

“What do you want Negan?” Joel’s hands fell to his hips where he waited to find out why Negan brought them outside to talk in the first place.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, you know?” Negan reasoned with Joel referring to the anger and tension that Joel was visibly feeling toward him. “The two of us were good friends too when we were younger. I’d like for us to have a friendship again if you’re willing.”

A long, uncomfortable pause surrounded them. Laughing apprehensively, Negan reached up to rub at the side of his face, “I’m willing to forgive you for what you did. This anger? Whatever this is? There is no need for it. I let go of the past. I don’t know where all this hostility for me is coming from.”

“You’re willing to forgive me? Forgive me for what?” Joel snapped, his face scrunching up in anger. Curling his fists at his side, Joel seemed disgusted with Negan. Tipping his head to the side, Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced up and he smiled uncomfortably. “I did nothing wrong.”

Standing his ground, Joel stepped forward and even though he was smaller than Negan he was doing his best to be intimidating.

“We both know that’s not the case,” Negan scoffed, the bridge of his nose wrinkling when he was referring to something that Joel obviously knew he was talking about. Making sure that it was only the two of them outside, Negan nodded his head about and sighed. “But like I said, I’m willing to forgive and forget it.”

“Are you? Since you’re the one that brought it up?” Joel sneered, shrinking the distance between them. It had a tiny smirk tugging at Negan’s lips and his eyes narrowed. “I reckon if you forgave me, you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“I was mentioning it because that’s clearly why you’re acting like this,” Negan attempted to reason with Joel, not liking how things were already starting off between them. A slight shove from Joel was felt at the center of Negan’s chest causing him to step back. Lowering his head, an amused sigh escaped Negan’s throat. “Okay Joel. Or you can blatantly hate me if that makes you feel better. I’d really prefer us to be friends. But I’m assuming that’s not something you’re interested in?”

“I know what you’re doing,” Joel warned Negan, stepping forward to shove Negan again, but this time it barely had Negan moving since he was prepared for it. “You’re doing this because of what I did. I can see right through you.”

“Can you? Because from where I’m standing you sound a little nuts Joel,” Negan threw his hand up in the air, shaking his head. “I’m not doing anything out of malicious intent. I didn’t come back to town with some kind of plan to fuck with you. I just came here wanting to see my mother and take a break from what I was used to. Then I ran into Y/N and we just clicked.”

“Of course you fucking did,” Joel snarled rolling his eyes and scoffing out loud. It infuriated him when it felt like there was a small inkling of hope between him and Y/N before Negan suddenly showed up. “You’re fucking with my family.”

“I’m really not,” Negan stressed gazing back over his shoulder at the front door that was partially opened. “Believe it or not Joel, I actually really like your family. And as I told you earlier, I would really like it if you and I could attempt to be friends again in some fashion.”

“You’re so full of shit it hurts,” Joel claimed with a hiss which had disappointment flooding Negan’s face. In that moment it seemed like the snow started to fall harder around them. “I’m not going to give you my blessing or decide that I’m okay with this because I’m not. I’m not okay with this Negan.”

“Well, that’s not really your decision to make,” Negan exhaled loudly, shrugging his shoulders. A fire was growing inside of Joel with the response that Negan gave him. Even though they were outside in the freezing snow, Joel felt like his body was ready to explode with how angry he was. “I’m sorry you want it to be like this.”

Turning on his heel, Negan stopped when Joel called out to him, “I do have to reiterate that I did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have to apologize for what happened. I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t take it back.”

“I wouldn’t want you to take it back,” Negan brushed off what Joel was saying, giving another small shake of his head. “What happened? It was meant to happen. And I firmly believe that. You were meant to have your children. They are great kids. I really do believe that what was meant to happen, did. But what you did in the past? Well that just proved what a fucking asshole you really could be.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re man of the year,” Joel threw that out there getting disgusted with the way that Negan was talking about things. “I’m sure your wife was always happy, right?”

“Excuse me?” Negan muttered, turning on his heel with Joel’s eyebrows tightening up. That was the first moment that Joel saw any real anger coming out of Negan. The mention of Negan’s wife was something that obviously bothered him. “What do you know about my wife?”

“You’d be surprised,” Joel responded looking beyond Negan when the children started to move out of the house. It had Joel’s posture straightening up and he moved forward, slamming his shoulder into Negan’s who let out a grunt.

“Thanks for letting us come over Negan,” Elizabeth spoke loud enough to draw Negan’s attention to her. Even though things had gotten stressful, Negan tried to force those feelings away. Turning on his heel, Negan gave a wink. Rubbing his hands together, he attempted to warm his hands up. “I’m sorry about the…weirdness of everything.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle kiddo,” Negan promised her with a weak smile, holding his hand out into a fist. Flashing her a big cheesy smile had Elizabeth smiling in return as she knuckle bumped him. In the background Negan could see that Joel was rolling his eyes, but Negan didn’t address it. Peter swiftly moved forward in beside Elizabeth holding his fist up as well for Negan to knuckle bump him. “And Peter. My dude, we’ll have to play some video games sometime.”

“I would die,” Peter emphasized his words eliciting a deep rumble of a laugh from Negan. “That would be awesome.”

“You’re awesome,” Negan rustled Peter’s dark hair before stepping back allowing Y/N to say goodbye to her children.

Outstretching his hand after Y/N was done hugging their children Joel hooked his fingers with Elizabeth’s and then grabbed Peter’s hand with the other. Moving to the door, Y/N watched as Joel back stepped with their children.

“The offer is still on the table. We have a place for you if you want it for the night,” Joel called out to Y/N, hoping to appeal to her somehow. “I’m sure it will feel more like home than this.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Y/N stepped outside, moving in beside Negan who looked both confused and angry with Joel. Taking a second to look them over, Joel shook his head and then started moving down the driveway with the children. They took their time walking to Joel’s house while Y/N reached up to stroke her fingers over the bottom of Negan’s neck. “What’d he say?”

“Nothing,” Negan lied, his long eyelashes fluttering when he looked to Y/N with a shake of his head. After being out in the cold, Negan felt a chill flooding his body and he stepped forward to wrap Y/N up in his arms to give her a hug. “I’m sorry if how Joel is toward me makes you uncomfortable.”

“I’m kind of used to Joel being grumpy toward everyone,” she half laughed burying her nose against the side of Negan’s neck. Hearing the sound of a car, she lifted her head up and felt her heart skip a beat. Next door, she caught sight of her parents pulling into the driveway. Stepping away from Negan, she felt a sense of optimism. It was Christmas time and it had been a very long time. By the way they were dressed, Y/N could tell that they had likely been to a party of some kind and were just getting back home. Moving forward, she was hoping to catch her parents’ eye and when she reached a certain spot, she did. Holding her hand up to wave once her mother caught sight of her, Y/N tried to offer up a smile. There was some kind of hope that was lingering there longing for something positive to happen. She should have known better. Immediately, a scowl tugged at her mother’s features when she realized it was Y/N waving to her. It was like a kick to the gut when her father stepped in beside her mother. His reaction time was even faster than her mother’s. Any hope that she had of rekindling a relationship with her parents flew right out the door as quickly as it had entered her mind. With a nudge, her father motioned her mother to move for the door. Neither one of them acknowledged her existence other than that expression of utter disgust. When her mother got to the door, she had looked back at Y/N once more. There was nothing soft in the expression. It was absolute loathing that she could see and it made her chest ache. After they made it inside their home, a pained sound escaped her lips. “Well that hurt more than I thought it would.”

“Fuck them! Do you want me to go say something?” Negan offered, stepping in beside her when she lowered her head and felt embarrassed for even trying.  When Negan had left, obviously, Y/N’s parents weren’t like that. So he couldn’t fathom why they would even act like this to begin with. The people he knew seemed to be very loving and caring. Sure, they wanted the best for their daughter, but kicking her out and shunning her completely from their lives? That was probably his biggest shock. “I can. You know I don’t mind putting people in their fucking places.”

“Don’t,” she placed her hand in over the center of Negan’s back hearing him sigh loudly because he wanted to do something. There was nothing he could do that would change their minds. They would just get angry with Negan and who knows what they were capable of these days. “They made up their minds a long time ago that they wanted nothing to do with me or their grandchildren. It just hurts. Every once in a while I get that reminder and it stings just as much as the day they threw me out.”

“I don’t get it,” Negan stated with a rumble, turning on his heel to look down at Y/N. “They have grandchildren that they want nothing to do with. Why?”

“They didn’t agree with me keeping Elizabeth. Peter they want nothing to do with by default,” she educated Negan on the past, her throat tensing up when she thought about the day her parents lectured her about her decision to keep Elizabeth. “They thought I was ruining both my life and Joel’s. I was the embarrassment for them getting pregnant when I did. I thought they’d break once they saw their grandchildren, but they never did. It’s just hard seeing them around town and having them pretend I’m some kind of stranger.”

“Fuck them,” Negan scoffed, reaching out to grab her shoulders to give them a supportive squeeze. “You’re already a better parent than they were. And you didn’t need them helping you for you to get that way. Your children love you. They will never have to want for anything because both you and Joel made sure that you were present in their lives.”

Instead of speaking, she reached up to place her hand in over Negan’s that was on her left shoulder. Hooking her fingers with his, she knew she’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t sad. There was a soft pull at her shoulder with Negan leading her toward the house. Closing everything up, Negan turned off the tv and put out the fire in the fireplace. Moving upstairs, Negan took her toward his bedroom and it made her smile when she entered it.

“This is like it was when we were young,” she mused stepping away from Negan to look around the room. Gazing at all the posters on the wall made her chuckle because she couldn’t believe that Negan’s mother kept it the same after this long. The bookshelves were lined with trophies and she found herself in awe. Stopping, she couldn’t help but notice the few shelves that had photos lined up. Reaching for one of them, a smile spread out over her face. It was a photo of the two of them before they were even teenagers together. They were hugging each other and the young version of Negan was giving the biggest, cheesiest smile ever. “You’ve always been a ham.”

“I worked on that smile my whole life,” Negan stammered drawing her attention back to him. Standing at his dresser, Negan was shirtless starting to change for the night. Doing the same smile that he was in the photo had her laughing out. Negan could always make her laugh. That was something that she was thankful for. Setting that photo down, she reached for another that was the two of them together as teens. How she had been so stupid to things back then swirled through her mind. It made sense to her why Negan ghosted her completely when they were young. Hearing Negan going through things behind her, she set that photo down and then reached for the photo of a teenage Lucille that was on another one of the shelves. “Hey?”

“Yeah?” she swiftly set the photo down and turned on her heel to see Negan was holding out a t-shirt and some sweatpants for her. “Careful. When you give me your clothes, I tend to take them. I have a history of it.”

“If it makes you happy, I don’t care,” Negan chuckled working his slacks off and adjusting the waistband of his boxer briefs. Awe filled his body when she turned to face him and started taking off her clothes. A wolfish smile expanded over his handsome features when he took a seat on the edge of his desk. “I feel like I’m having flashbacks.”

“You still look at me like you did then,” she announced stepping out of the dress that she was wearing standing before him in just her bra and panties. Setting aside the clothes he gave her, she moved in before him and traced her fingers down over the center of his chest having him tremor beneath her touch. ��Maybe this is our sign to do what we never could before.”

“Have sex in my bedroom?” Negan snickered having her head tip from side to side considering the whole thing. “No dad to come in and lecture us. Although, I don’t have any condoms again.”

“That didn’t seem to be a problem yesterday,” she noted tracing her fingers over the tattoo that covered his pectoral muscle. A shuddering breath escaped his parted lips with his long eyelashes fluttering to a close with her touching him.

“While I want to,” Negan lifted his hand, his fingers curling around her wrist. Sweeping his fingers over her pulse point, Negan shook his head. Bringing her hand up, he deposited a kiss over the center of her palm. “You’re sad. You’re hiding it. What you need isn’t sex. That’s only a temporary fix.”

“You can’t fix my sad Negan,” she pointed out having him frown at her counter statement. “I can’t expect anyone to change the pain that I’ve felt for almost two decades. You’re my angel, but no one is capable of that. You’ve already made me happier in the last day than I have felt in a long time. I can’t expect you to carry the weight of my woes on your shoulders.”

“I know, but I would be an asshole to take advantage of how you are feeling about your parents,” Negan stepped forward to caress his hands up over her sides. The roughness of his fingertips traced over her flesh and he nuzzled his nose in against hers. “Cuddle with me tonight? Then in the morning if you’re feeling frisky still, we can take a shower together and sneak one in.”

“You’re sticking to your guns, huh?” she breathed out slowly having Negan smirk and nod his head once. “Alright then.”

Stepping away from Negan, she pulled both the shirt and sweatpants on. By the time she turned back to Negan he was laying stretched out on the bed in a pair of pajama pants and an old band t-shirt. Patting beside him on the bed, Negan beckoned her to come lay with him. Moving across the room, she laid next to him and let out an amused breath looking up at the ceiling. There was an array of paintings that Negan had done up there of a space scene when he was younger that they always used to stare at.

“I’m surprised she kept it the same way,” she breathed out lowering her hand to hook her fingers with Negan’s. “I’m sure my parents threw everything out the moment they kicked me out. Yet your mother, she kept everything the same.”

“My mother is great. And that makes me feel bad sometimes. I couldn’t get the fuck away from my father fast enough,” Negan reminded her letting out a long sigh. Negan also had a complicated relationship with his father and she knew that. “I think this was her way of keeping me with her. It’s pretty sweet. Plus it’s nice to come back here to see who I used to be. Where I came from.”

“Sometimes it feels like yesterday,” she turned on her side, resting her head over the center of Negan’s chest. Cuddling her head in closer to him, she felt his arm hooking around her shoulders pulling her close. “It’d be nice to go back and take everything in. Relax.”

A loud exhale fell from Negan before he pressed a kiss against her temple, “I always thought there was a problem with me. Everyone got sick of me after a while. It scares me with Elizabeth and Peter. I worry that they will be like everyone else.”

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Negan denied with a huff, but she lifted her head to give him a tense expression. “There isn’t.”

“My parents threw me away when I was seventeen. You left. Joel got sick of me,” she listed off what she knew to be true having Negan frown. These feelings weren’t something that she just came up with. Ideas of being the problem had been flooding her mind since she was sixteen years old. “There has to be something wrong with me, right?”

“I left because…” Negan swallowed down, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat. “It’s complicated, but there was never anything wrong with you. If anything, you were too good. And that makes it easy for people to treat you badly. But I don’t think you have anything to worry about with your children.”

“They love their father more,” she admitted closing her eyes enjoying the way that Negan stroked his fingers through her hair.

“I did too when I was younger,” Negan reminded her, swallowing down hard thinking about his past. At the beginning of his life, Negan admired his father. A lot. His dad was the man he looked up to the most. And he was blind to how amazing his mother was. When he hit his teens, Negan had started to realize how often his father would let him down and hurt him. So he understood how she was feeling, but he knew that within time, he himself had realized his mother was the better parent all along. “It took me growing up and seeing how things were that it was my mother the whole time that was there for me. Loving me. Caring about me. I just was so desperate for his attention that I never saw that she was there the whole time for me. Sometimes it takes growing up to see who the better parent is. Now I’m not saying Joel is a bad father, but I can see how much you love your children. You like talking about them.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized with a long sigh, but he was quick to hush her. “I know talking about them is what I do the most.”

“I like it,” Negan claimed with a snort, squeezing her in closer to him. “Your self-esteem has been shit on by the world. I think it’s time we work on that because you’re fucking amazing. And you deserve to feel that way. We’re gonna work on that together with my time here. Because I know what you’re capable of and you shouldn’t let people make you feel this way.”

Tipping her head back, she stared up at Negan and sighed. Right now she wished that was a possibility, but after everything she had been through? She wasn’t sure that was obtainable.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis

[cosmal]

✪ — ❛ wow i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look. ❜ with james pls I am begging (nicely)

simple man

summary you're so pretty james can't speak.

content james potter x fem!reader

James craves two things when he gets home. You and your kisses. Nothing else.

He's a simple man.

He locks your flat behind him and shucks off his shoes to kick them under the rack he'd built for you after you'd called him upset one night after, I've broken my drill, Jamie. I'm so stupid. He'd come over and fixed it for you and you'd made him dinner. That was the first night he'd ever kissed you.

He doesn't bother with calling your name. He can hear you humming in the kitchen. The hum of your oven and the record player in the sitting room crackling as it changes songs. He won't get into how good it smells or how much he loves your cooking or he'll be here all night.

You spin around, your socked feet twisting into the tiles, and fucking beam. "Jamie!" you cheer, holding your wooden spoon like you could use it as a microphone. "You're home!'

"Hey, lovely," he says as fond as he feels. You seem so thrilled to see him that all the fatigue he'd built up at work gets pushed down his arms and out his fingertips.

You open your arms, expecting a hug, and oil drips from the spoon and onto the floor. He doesn't have it in him to be upset because he's dying to be touched by you.

He closes the distance between you and takes you into his arms. Hugging you tightly, pushing his fingertips into the slip of skin that pokes out the bottom of your vest, hands selfish when he starts to inch them forward until he reaches the bottom of your ribs.

Your hug is even worse, you tuck your face into his neck and rub your cheek against his. He worries for your skin because he hasn't shaved lately, but you seem not to care.

Then, you're kissing him. You kiss over the length of his chin and cheek, all the while you're undoing his tie. Your fingers are sluggish as you do so, like you really want to keep kissing him. You hum into his mouth and tug the final loop free.

"So," you say once you're finished. "I'm making shepherd's pie."

James isn't listening, really, to what you're saying. He feels really guilty, but he can't stop thinking about you undoing his tie. How you're fingers felt against his hot neck. How he'd pinched your flesh and you gasped into his mouth. You seem completely unphased which he's sure only makes it worse.

"I made it all from scratch," you smile, stirring browning gravy around your pot. "Not as good as your mam, obviously. I couldn't get the mash as smooth, but I put extra carrots in how you like it."

Plus, you look adorable. You've got no pants on because it's hot, worse than last night. He thinks you're wearing a pair of boxers he was sure he'd lost, and a tiny vest that's more bare skin than it is cotton. There's a speck of oil near the neckline that he's sure you fussed over for too long, and your hair's a mess. Sticking to your neck because you're sweating. He thinks later on he might fix it for you and put a wet towel over your shoulders. He's sure you'd love it.

"Jamie?"

"Hey- what? Huh?" Jame stumbles over his words and realises he's been staring for too long at your thighs and not computing what you're saying.

"Dessert," you lilt. "Do you want ice lollies? Or I froze some watermelon earlier."

"Um," he's stuttering like a fool and can't help it. You look too pretty to ignore. "Right. Watermelon sounds nice, sweetheart."

You place your spoon on its rest and turn back to face him again. You cage him back in with your hands resting at his sides, linked behind him. Your hip presses into his. "Are you okay? You're like all zoned out."

James chuckles. Really, entirely fond. He's been caught. "Sorry, shit - sorry, lovely," he smiles. Then, he ducks his head. "God, I really can’t speak, huh? Must be because of how pretty you look."

He knows if he felt your cheeks, they'd be hot under his fingers. You duck your head down to hide how he makes you feel and his heart swells ten times worse than it already had. "James."

He lets your hip go in favour of your face, using his knuckle to encourage you to look up at him. You look a little too lovesick in James's own opinion.

"What?"

"I look gross," you say, wrinkling your nose. "I've been in the kitchen all afternoon."

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that."

He kisses you stupid to prove his point. He's a simple man.

-

fixing read more glitch

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Hi! What would the main 10 skeletons favorite Thanksgiving activities be?

Undertale Sans - Sans likes Toriel's cooking too much and Toriel doesn't know how to tell his friend is full so uh, Sans eats until he literally passes out on the table, so happy. He can't say no to another plate because he doesn't want to hurt her feelings so... Yeah. He's pretty much in a coma for three days after that.

Undertale Papyrus - He goes to see a football game with Undyne. None of them really understand what's going on but everyone is screaming and they're screaming too! Also, they discovered that apparently, only certain people could run after the ball after Undyne got kicked out for scoring because the players were taking too much time. Human culture is confusing.

Underswap Sans - He participates in a turkey trot and does his best to win because there's no way he's losing. He doesn't mind if it is supposed to be a playful event, he's tryharding until he collapses behind the finish line. He's proud of him!

Underswap Papyrus - He goes to see some parades in big cities. He doesn't like the crowd, but that's fine, he somehow convinced Asgore to come with him and Asgore is so impressive people stay at least ten meters away from him. He's having fun!

Underfell Sans - His brother wanted him to do something with the random turkey he brought into the garden, but Edge was talking too much so Red didn't listen and now he's not sure what he's supposed to do with the bird. So, uh, he freed the turkey hoping his brother won't notice. That's only after the turkey left that a random spot of publicity reminds him he was supposed to cook the turkey. Well, shit. He runs to the nearest shop to buy another lmao.

Underfell Papyrus - Toriel insisted Undyne and him sit down and tell each other nice things because apparently, Thanksgiving is about being kind to others? Obviously, Edge doesn't like that, but Toriel makes sure that Frisk stays in the room so, if Undyne and him starts insulting each other, she will roast them alive instead of the turkey in the oven. Ew. He's disgusted and after a long two minutes of just staring, he tells Undyne she has nice fingers. Pfew. He did it. That was even more painful than fighting against Asgore. He feels sick actually.

Horrortale Sans & Papyrus - They organized a big Thanksgiving meal with all the monsters of the Underground on his farm. They do that each year, and it makes them feel a little better to see they are each year a little more than the precedent year. Monsterkind is slowly rebuilding and moving on. They also celebrate Gyftmas that day so they can all have more gifts at Christmas a month later. What, they're clever, don't be jealous.

Swapfell Sans - He prevents his brother from dying and that actually takes a lot of time. They are invited to share a meal with the Queen, but Rus... Rus thinks it's a good opportunity to tell the old bitch what he thinks of her, and alcohol definitely doesn't help. Toriel neither by the way, especially when she broke one of his brother's ribs because apparently, you have to break a wishbone or something on that day. Nox just wants to go home and sleep for three days, please.

Swapfell Papyrus - After Toriel breaks one of his ribs, Rus says that's ok because Thanksgiving is also about giving back. Then he punches her in the face. After that, he has to run the fastest turkey trot of his life because the Queen wants his head on a spit.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's before all a business man so he goes shopping on Black Friday. Except he is merciless. Women, men, children, no one will stand between him and whatever he wants to buy. He's biting people's legs, throwing bones, and fistfighting everyone getting in the way. He doesn't need six televisions but he's still going to buy them just because he can!

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's all cozy in his room with the pumpkin pie he stole from the fridge, a big plaid and watching cliche Christmas movies in his bed and crying because that's so beautiful how Karen realized Jack-Sexy-Muscles was actually Santa Claus all along. He doesn't need more, really.

[tickly-trashcan]

Hug {Pixal x Zane}

It took Pixal a few times before she finally got used to Zane hugging her. She was not used to physical affection, and though she witnessed it throughout her life before meeting Zane, she had never experienced it herself.

Zane’s hugs were safe and brought her a sense of comfort, a warmth in her chest that she could not explain. Her core and processor must have eventually helped her let her guard down around Zane, because her initial reactions to him hugging her were much different.

Pixal wondered to herself when Zane would get back, and she knew he would greet her with a hug. She sat on the steps of the monastery and watched the gates patiently.

They opened and Pixal jumped up, watching Zane and the other ninja walk through. She beamed and Zane returned a smile before running up to her. She ran down the steps and jumped into his arms and was spun around several times before he set her down, still holding her tight.

“It was two days, Zane!” Kai laughed, patting Zane’s shoulder while he walked by.

Zane only held Pixal tighter. “Two days too long.”

Pixal laughed softly and pulled away, patting Zane’s cheek. He leaned into her hand and smiled, expressing again how he missed her.

“I’ll have to start joining you on missions if you’re going to keep getting separation issues.”

Zane laughed. “I wouldn’t call them issues. I just missed you!”

Pixal rolled her eyes and watched the other ninja walk inside. “Should we go to the debrief with Wu as well?”

Zane shook his head. “Lloyd has it under control. I want to stay with you for just a few more moments.”

Pixal chuckled when Zane pulled her in for another hug, squeezing her tightly. “I need to help with the debrief, Zane. We’ll have plenty of time together later. I’ll help you cook dinner tonight, how does that sound?”

Zane hummed. “Wonderful. I have a few ideas already for what we should have. Can I tell you now?”

“Tell me later.”

Zane huffed and did not let go of Pixal. She hummed mischievously and began to creep her hands up to Zane’s sides, making him stiffen in her arms.

“I need to help with the debrief, but I can’t go until you let go,” Pixal said sweetly, gently pinching Zane’s sides as he giggled into the crook of her neck. She poked up until she reached his ribs and pinched at them softly while he broke into a fit of bright and loud laughter.

“Pixahahahal!! Dohohon’t tickle mehehe!” Zane whined, squirming in her arms.

“You have to let go! Then I promise I’ll stop!”

Zane laughed a little while longer, still not wanting to let go of Pixal, but eventually gave in when she began to scribble her fingers under his arms.

They eventually walked into the debrief room, hands entwined, and Zane got plenty of the promised attention later that night while the two of them cooked dinner.

While Zane stirred the pot, Pixal held onto him from behind, hugging him gently and rocking with him. She poked at him gently throughout the time he was cooking, making him squeak and giggle, and when he finally put the dinner in the oven, he was able to hug her back.

[ifonlyitwasmidnight]

You had never been the domestic type.

MDNI 18+

(CW: a few curse words, reader being a smidge insecure, a singular smack to the ass)

It wasn't really by choice; you just never fell into that roll.

Your time as a child was spent running with the "delinquents" of the neighborhood, learning to fight with them, to tinker, to cry, to fuck, and eventually, how to love.

Which is how you wound up here, gritted teeth and balled fists on the counter as plumes of black smoke rose to the ceiling, setting off the smoke detectors and filling your apartment with their obnoxious tune.

It was supposed to be a nice night. You'd even put candles on the table, for fucks sake.

And, of course, now was when your front door would crack open, signaling the arrival of your boyfriend.

Your bottom lip wobbled as he approached, hiding a smirk as he placed gentle hands on your hips and moved you away from the still smoking oven.

It was quick work for him to pull the burnt food out and throw it into the sink. You'd have to throw that pan out.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you tight against him, using his free hand to tilt your chin up. A hot tear leaked from your eye, running slowly down your cheek.

"What's all this, beautiful?" He kept his voice low, that hint of amusement still there.

You heaved a sigh, "I just wanted to do something nice for you. I thought maybe if I was a little more... I don't know —"

"Domesticated?" He offered, and you cringed at the word.

"Do you ever wish I was more like that?"

He barked a laugh, finally unable to hold it in any longer. The glare you shot him only served as further fuel for his amusement.

"What is so funny?" You snapped, trying to push away. His arm snaked down around your waist quickly before you could get far, refusing to let you go.

"There isn't a single thing, a single fuckin' one, I'd change about you. You don't need to wear fancy dresses," he slid his hand up your rib cage, his hand smooth over the silky material of the dress you had awkwardly squeezed yourself into, causing you to shiver, "Though, I won't ever say no to you wearin' this again, fuck babe."

He cleared his throat, eyes refocusing on yours, "I love you. All of you as you are. I've loved you since we were stupid teenagers, and you threw me down on the ground for tuggin' on your braid."

Your lip quivered again, this time over your boyfriend's disgustingly sweet words.

"How 'bout you go put something a little more comfortable on? Maybe those boots I got you for your birthday, and we go out for a ride. We can stop at that little corner restaurant you've been wantin' to try, yeah?"

Your fists curled into his shirt, pulling him down as you pushed up on your toes to meet his waiting lips. He chased you as you pulled away, longing for you to stay there with him for just a moment more.

"Love you, babe," you murmured against his lips.

"Go get changed," he said with a swat to your ass that was sure to leave a handprint.

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

If it fits, it ships.

x DRAKEN, Mitsuya, Baji?, Ichigo, Shunsui, Renji, Kirishima, Bakugou (let's be honest, he'd never let you cook anyways), HAWKS, Cloud, Zack Fair.

AN: it's a smidge self-indulgent, but what're you gonna do, right?

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑰 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝑨𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆

pairing: ezra x fem!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, modern au

word count: 1.8k

summary: you cook for ezra's guests, and seeing the sight of you being so domestic awakens something in him.

warnings: established relationship (dating), housewife kink, creampie, mild breeding kink, use of vaginal plugs, cum play, oral (receiving), piv, kitchen sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talking, a promise of somnophilia at the end but not delved into

a/n: I miss autumn and had this idea right before bed.

You're in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and apron tied tight around your waist. The oven is on, the smell of pumpkin and cinnamon wafting through the air. Ezra's colleagues and boss have already arrived, their chatter filling the living room, but you're content to be here, cooking. The dips, crackers, and other finger food had already been set up so you’re sure they’re doing fine along with Ezra’s company.

You glance over at the spread on the counter, taking in the autumnal hues of the dishes. The roasted root vegetables are a deep orange, the sage stuffing a warm brown. The dessert is still baking in the oven, the scent of warm apples and nutmeg promising something sweet and comforting. 

“Why aren’t you the perfect little housewife.” the voice is soft, deep, the southern drawl reminding you of the gentle caress of the sun. You turn to him, smiling. He’s quick to make his way to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “You’re a vision, birdie. My pretty shining jewel.” 

He drags his nose up your neck, the soft hair tickling and sending shivers up your spine. Briefly, your eyes linger over the kitchen door, it’s wide open. If anyone decides to head to the bathroom, the two of you would be in full view. You attempt to shimmy away but he only holds you tighter. 

“Ezra, you shouldn’t be doing this when your boss is literally in the next room.” 

“I’m sure he’d enjoy the show.” 

“Hey,” you playfully nudge him in the ribs, he grins into your burning skin. 

“Just joking. I would never share you with anyone, not even the image of you.”

He’s ravenous. He always was but this time is different. He pulls up your dress, his hands moving up your bare thighs. Ezra smooths his palms over your ass teasing the seams of your panties.

“For someone who doesn’t want others to see, you’re sure are taking an awful lot of risk,” you tease. “You should go. Entertain them.” 

“You look gorgeous, my little bird. I apologize but I don’t think I can hold myself back when you’ve donned such a cute apron and beautiful dress.” his lips touch your ear, you shudder. “I’ll be quick. Promise.” 

Two fingers slip inside you. Ezra hums at how wet you already are, and you shudder as he thrusts them deeper. The strokes of his fingers feel long and thick, the way he can take you apart so easily sends a rush of pleasurable fear crackle along your skin. Your head falls over his shoulder, his lips and tongue moving over your pulse. He feels your heartbeat, kisses it, hoping it’ll provide comfort. Your clench around him, more slick dripping down his knuckles. He pulls them, out tasting them.

“Delicious.” he groans, the vibrations of his chest seeping into your person. “Best darn thing I tasted all day.” 

“I’m going to try and not take offense to that.”

“Your cooking is lovely little bird but your essence is truly divine.”  He slips his fingers into you once more, your body responding but forcing a moan from your lips. This time when he pulls them back out, he offers them to you. “Have a taste and you’ll see.” 

Despite your apprehensions, you’re not above doing what he tells you to do. Obediently, you part your lips, he pushes them between your lips, and your swirl your tongue. You have a sweet, tangy taste. You don’t think it’s better than your cooking per se, but maybe it is. Ezra has a way of changing your mind. 

He diligently slides your panties to the side, cock moving between the lips of your cunt. You swallow down your moans, shaking as you brace yourself up by pressing your hands into the edge of the kitchen counter. Your skin prickles every time the head catches along your clit, he continues to grind himself between your thighs until he pushes in. The girth of him forces you to spread your legs further open, you feel the way he pulses inside. 

“E-Ezra,” you moan, eyes already rolling back. “Shit—” 

“Now, birdie, we need to be silent don’t we.” he cups your mouth, pulling you flush against his chest. “I love the way you lose yourself. You’re too eager to scream my name aren’t you?” 

You nod, tears flooding your lashlines. He smiles. “My sweet wife.” 

Your walls flutter at that, clamping around him and wetting his cock. A loud groan slips from his lips, it seems your body’s reaction was just as surprise to him as it was to you. Neither of you talked about marriage or the future, not that you were avoiding it, but being with him was simple, fun. No need to plan every detail. But something about him calling you his wife, or how pretty you looked as a housewife, it ignites something inside you. 

“You like that?” he teases. “You enjoy being nothing but a hole for me to use? For me to fuck as you cook for our guests? How naughty of you, birdie.” 

Your eyes to snap to the door again, you can hear the soft chatter and the sound of glasses clinking from the living room. His fingers press into your jaw, nails biting into your skin. 

“Don’t focus on them, focus on me,” he growls. “This is how it’s going to play out—I’m going to fill you up, then plug you. And if you’re good, I’m going to eat you out and make you come until you’re a mess for me. Understood?” 

Heat pools between your legs, your thighs shaking from the thought alone. As soon as you nod, Ezra sets the pace. His thrusts are forceful, needy, hungry. You feel him everywhere, all at once. You hold back your moans as he sucks a patch of skin, his teeth digging into the sensitive flesh right after. He feels so good, so hot. He jackhammers into you, his free hand cupping and squeezing your breast. Your clit aches with the need to be touched but he chases his own release only. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he groans, swallowing after every swear. “Gonna—Gonna fill you up good, birdie. You’re gonna drip for me all night, my wife—My gorgeous, stunning, naughty wife—”

You’re glad he’s covering your mouth because even the heat of his palm can barely stop the noises slipping from your lips. He ruts into you like a dream, a delusion. God, you love it. The skin of your ass stings with him. His cock throbs and twitches, you’re almost there but not quite. You want him to touch you, to make you drip all over the floor. You lick his palm. 

“‘Want a kiss, birdie?” he asks, sounding almost deluded. “Just—fuck—I’m so close, wait a bit more.” 

He rocks into you once, twice—you hiss as his teeth sink into your shoulder, cock twitching as he spills into you. You shudder, his seed spilling from where your entrance is stretched around him. Suddenly, you feel his lips on yours, tongue hungrily licking into you. You finally moan freely into his mouth and he swallows the noises you make. It’s such a dizzying feeling that you don’t notice him pulling out and replacing it with something much smaller and soft plastic. 

“Keep it all in,” he groans, voice deep and scratchy. “God, the thought of you being filled with me,” he shivers, he traces a pattern of soft kisses down your neck and smooths his lips over the bite mark. “walking around like this while serving our food. Fuck—it’s going to be hard to make conversation, birdie.” 

The rest of the evening was absolute, undeniable, torture. Everyone seemed to enjoy the food you made, which was good, but every time Ezra touched you, you flinched, the warmness of his seed spilling from the outline of the plug. He seemed to know because he grinned every moment of it. It was somewhat hilarious because the touches were actually quite innocent. A palm resting on the small of your back, his fingers squeezing your thigh from underneath the table. Nothing extravagant. 

But all you could think of was his promise. 

And Ezra is nothing but a man eager to keep his word. 

As soon as everyone leaves, he pulls you into the bedroom. Stripping you and laying you down on to the comfort of your bed. He spreads your legs, looking wistfully at the mess the plug is struggling to keep contained. You gasp when he pulls it out, your legs left trembling due to the way he gazes at you. Two fingers trace the seam of your cunt, he slowly pushes them in, a soft growl echoing from the back of his throat. He swirls his fingers, shoves them deeper, and then out. Your back arches at the building pleasure, your fingers curl into the sheets, needing more of him. 

“So gorgeous,” he says. “Tell me what you want.” 

“Your mouth,” you whimper. “Please—I’ve…I’ve been good haven’t I?” 

“Very much so, birdie, yes.” your eyes follow the trace of his smile, his eyes grow soft. “You’ve been good. You’re always so good, immaculate even.” 

Ezra drags his lips up the inside of your thighs, closing his lips around your clit. Your fingers immediately fly to the back of his head, your fingers play with the soft locks, pulling him closer. He groans into you. Licking you clean, tasting himself and you. The tip of his tongue traces your entrance, he slips a finger and gently bites the skin right below your pelvis. You gasp his name, your eyes dropping to him between your legs. He meets your gaze, holding it as his tongue delves deeper, moves hungrier. 

He devours you. Swallows you whole. You feel as if you’re falling, the coil tightening in your stomach. You can barely breathe from the way his tongue moves, the gulps loud, his lips kissing you as if he would your mouth. 

Your hips stutter. The final thing to push you over the edge his the way he curls his fingers, thrusting them deep and stroking you most untouched, sensitive part. Ezra doesn’t stop as you come, gushing around his fingers and drenching his lips. He drinks like a man dying of thirst. Your eyes roll back, your chest heaves. It’s too much. 

“That’s it,” he encourages. “So fuckin’ sweet for me always. Such a beautiful sight. I love it when you fall for me.” 

Your orgasm slowly fades and he lays next to you, pulling you close. His hard cock rests over the curve of your ass, precum beading at the tip. 

“Ezra…” 

“Rest, little bird,” he mutters, lips brushing the back of your neck. You let out a soft sigh as he slips into you, the feeling of him makes you drowsy. A yawn parts your lips. “Sleep, I’ll still be here when you wake up. Filling you, making you mine.” 

You nod and smile. 

The last thing you feel is the warmth of his lips as they tenderly brush against your temple. 

[coopers-kitchen]

This pig first found out about his dad’s taste when he found out that the reason he was never allowed in the basement as a kid is because it’s where his dad and uncle butchered and portioned up all those fat boys that kept disappearing in “bear attacks”.

Well, ever since his dad came down and found his own son had stripped off and locked himself up in a feeding cage, the family’s gotten closer than ever. This hog helps with the hunts, the care, the prep, and he’s been getting nice and fat on a diet of fresh longpork.

Well, it wasn’t too long before curiosity turned to acceptance. He knew his dad wanted to eat him, and he knew he’d be damn delicious, too. He walked around naked, all those choice cuts on display. Now that cannibalism has been legalised, he doesn’t even need to hide it. He’s even brought some pigs from college home to meet the family.

Well, the sad fact is this pig realised that it wasn’t enough to just be butchered - he wanted a live roast, so he could feel every moment of the prep, and feel himself change from pig to pork.

Well, his dad’s been cooking up longpig for decades, but never a whole one. It’s a whole different skillset and, even though they tried with a few pigs, he never got the knack of a live cook. Sure, he’d dreamed of what his son would taste like ever since he saw him locked up between a Swedish backpacker and a college student he’d hooked up with, but it’s one thing to butcher a random hog, it’s another to do it to your son when he wants nothing more than to be cooked alive.

Well, I’m always interested in helping a hog achieve his dreams, and when they contacted me I was more than happy to help out - after all, not only do I have the skills, I have the sort of kitchen most pigs can only dream of. Dad was even kind enough to throw in a pig he’d butcher for me, lining up all his caged stock for a virtual meat inspection. Soon, they were on their way to LA alongside a few coolers filled with sausages, burgers, chops, steaks, ribs, ground meat, and meat for stuffing, all harvested from a delicious volunteer that had spent six months in a feeding cage ready to butcher.

This pig could barely wait for the oven. He’d spent three days on an all beer diet and shaved himself totally smooth. Some basic prep, one last fuck, and he was ready to stuff (longpork, wild rice, apple, and whisky), glaze (a honey apple reduction), truss up, and slide into the oven with a juicy red apple wedged between his teeth for the live roast he’d been dreaming of.

Well, cooking a pig like this is an all-day project, so me and his dad had a chat, talking shop. We had a light lunch, and he’s definitely an expert butcher based on how delicious and juicy those longpork chops were. Still, we all knew what the main event was: the whole roast currently squirming as he felt his meat cooking, and we only got hungrier as the smell of roasting pork filled the house, my eager housepigs sorting out all the side dishes and serving us however we wanted and, well, longpig is an aphrodisiac.

By the time evening rolled by, we were ready to eat, and it’s rare to see a dad that eager to dig into his son, or for anyone to match my appetite. Between the two of us we made a decent dent in this hog in a few days, and by the time dad was ready to make the trip back east he’d gained a few pounds, a better understanding of the art of cooking, and the contact details of one of my proteges who’s looking for a supplier for his new restaurant.

[i-put-the-star-in-bastard]

You, you were in the kitchen

a sweet evening with his son turns into Eddie's worst nightmare

or, a very angsty quadruple drabble

(Title from I Forget Where We Were by Ben Howard - Submission for Eddie Diaz Week 2024 - Tuesday Prompt: whump - @eddiediaz-week)

thank you Blu for betaing

“Daaaad? What’s for dinner?” Chris yells out. “Lasagna, it’ll be ready in five minutes!” “Did you make it?” Eddie scoffs. “Yes!” Chris's groan travels from the living room to the kitchen and Eddie shakes his head. “Come on! I’ve gotten so much better at cooking!” “Yeah but you’ll never be as good as Buck.” Eddie mumbles “Yeah, that’s why I married him.” before yelling back “Well he’s on shift so it'll have to do!” The doorbell rings and Eddie sighs - there’s only two minutes left on the oven timer. He makes his way to the door, taking the time to mess with Chris’s hair as he walks through the living room. Chris groans and bats his hand away with an expression of such teenage contempt Eddie can’t help but laugh. His laughter immediately dies in his throat as he steps into the hallway. He doesn’t have to turn the porch light on to know who’s waiting for him behind the door - but he does so anyway. Just in case it proves him wrong. He flicks the switch and the dark shapes of LAFD dress uniforms become unmistakable through the door's window pane. Eddie remains frozen, his arm up, hand still on the switch as he stares at a bleak future through that tiny window. Not again, he thinks. Not again, not again, I can’t do this. Please, not again. He stands there for so long the officers behind the door resolve to knocking on it. They know he’s here. He turned on the light, they know he’s here. They’re waiting for him to open the door, he really should open the door. Eddie’s hand grasps the door handle but he doesn’t pull it open. He just... stays there, in this moment suspended in time. His past is in the kitchen and the living room with his son waiting to eat lasagna and rib him about how much better Buck’s is before they go to bed and Eddie half sleeps until Buck slips into their bed and kisses his nape and he can fall asleep safely. On the other side of the door, a future he doesn’t want, a future that’ll destroy him awaits him. He can’t open the door. But he can stand in the hallway and pretend his husband will come home tonight. The oven timer goes off and Eddie falls to his knees, sobs tearing through his body.

on ao3

[thenovelartist]

Life After Destruction - Chapter 8 - Honkai: Star Rail

<Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter>

Living on a star train, Stelle had gotten used to not having any direct form of sunlight to tell time with, so this “waking with the sun” thing was still taking some getting used to. But she certainly believed she could as long as she woke snuggled in Dan Heng’s arms.

She could do without her baby kicking her in the ribs, though.

“Baby,” she muttered, rolling over onto her back and rubbing her stomach as though that could settle her baby down. “You gotta knock it off. You’re not supposed to be stealing my sleep until after you’re born.”

The arm that was draped over her gently hugged her stomach. “Hey,” a sleepy voice muttered. “Be nice to your mom.”

She glanced over at Dan Heng. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

His eyes cracked open. “No, I was already on the verge of waking up when I felt the baby kicking.”

“Baby,” she scolded, patting her stomach. “You’re not supposed to steal Daddy’s sleep, either.”

As though in answer, Stelle watched a little hand press up and out of her stomach, right above where Dan Heng’s arm draped over her. “Don’t be rebellious,” she said, tapping her fingers on the little protrusion.

Of course, that only caused the baby to kick her in the ribs again.

With a heavy sigh, Stelle laid her head back against her pillow. It had been three long weeks since the Express had dropped her, Dan Heng, and Natasha off on the Luofu. She hadn’t realized how thankful she was for such a long vacation seeing as this last month had been the hardest on her physically. She was ready for this baby to be finished cooking and come out of the oven.

Beside her on the bed, Dan Heng propped himself up on his arm to look over her. “Do you need anything?”

She sighed. “I need this baby out of me.”

“Sorry. If I could make that happen, I would.”

“I have the feeling they’re gonna take their sweet time. They’re stubborn that way.”

“Like their mother.”

Stelle glowered at him.

The smirk he shot her in return was infuriating.

Unfortunately, she had to let it go. Even when cranky at him, she loved whenever his mischievousness made an appearance. She was a weak woman.

Dan Heng gently rubbed a hand over her stomach, their baby reaching out toward the touch. “Would you like to go swimming again today?”

Stelle cracked an eye open at him, mulling over the prospect. Their new habit was something Dan Heng had suggested soon after their arrival, swimming in the waters around Scalegorge Waterscape. Rather, it was less “swimming” and more Stelle floating on her back while Dan Heng stayed right by her side, supporting her in whatever way was most comfortable for her. It offered relief to her back, and the baby seemed to quiet down, too. It made her wonder if their child would be a fan of the water.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “That sounds really nice.”

Dan Heng laid back down, wrapping an arm around her to pull her close. “Then whenever you’re ready, we can go. But I would prefer if you managed to get some breakfast down first.”

“Rice bowl.”

“You’re up for that?”

Grinning, she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Would you like me to go make that for you now?”

She paused, pouting in thought as she looked over her husband’s bare chest. “No.” And then she reached out to throw an arm around his waist. “Stay. Just a little bit.”

He hummed happily. “Okay.”

Snuggled in her husband’s arms like this, Stelle became a very happy woman. She was also almost comfortable enough to fall back asleep.

Until her child decided to start kicking again.

Well, so much for sleep.

An hour and two breakfast bowls later, she and Dan Heng were heading to the beach. Before they left, Stelle had informed Natasha where they were heading. Natasha bid them a good time and informed them that she would be at the alchemy commission in case they needed anything. Stelle wished her a good time as well.

Honestly, Stelle had been worried that Natasha might feel neglected or out of place when they had first arrived on the Luofu, yet she had never shown any signs of distress. On the contrary, she seemed to enjoy her trip, diving headlong into any medical texts she could get her hands on as well as following Bailu whenever possible.

By now, Stelle would bet Natasha could make her way to the alchemy commission without any assistance from the young vidyadhara, but that theory would never be tested considering Natasha always had a cloud knight escort wherever she went. Jing Yuan had kindly arranged constant cloud knight protection for Natasha, Dan Heng, and Stelle. He’d also been the one to arrange for the house they were currently staying at for the time being. One thing was for certain: under his command, the very first vidyadhara baby and their family would be completely safe.

The starskiff they were riding on came to a stop, and Stelle took in the familiar sights of Scalegorge Waterscape’s beach. The knights that accompanied them were the first to disembark, then Dan Heng helped Stelle off the starskiff.

The two cloud knight escorts quickly scanned the area, deeming the coast clear for now yet never letting their guard down. As much as Stelle appreciated the protection, she wasn’t a fan of being followed around everywhere. However, it was a necessity for the safety of her and her child, so she wouldn’t complain.

Holding on to Dan Heng’s hand for support, Stelle made her way down the stairs to the beach. Once at the bottom, she kicked off her shoes, taking in the warmth of the sand under her feet. Pulling her hand away from Dan Heng’s, she made her way to the water’s edge, dipping her feet in the cool water and sighing in relief.

“Maybe I should have brought a chair,” Dan Heng commented.

Stelle shook her head. “Nah, the water will do just fine.”

“Then, shall we?” he asked, already slipping off his shirt. An action Stelle watched maybe a little too intently.

“Yes.” Reining her thoughts in, she turned back to face the water while slipping out of the wrap dress she wore to cover her two-piece swimsuit. If she were being honest, having her large belly exposed like this did make her feel a little awkward, but on the other hand, she didn’t want to have to buy a maternity swimsuit when one of her existing suits happened to fit her just fine. The bottoms had to stretch a little under her belly, and the top had become a bit tight thanks to all her body’s changes, but the point still stood.

After folding his shirt, Dan Heng dropped it beside the two towels he’d already set on a rock outcropping on the beach. He then took her dress as well as the sun hat she wore and laid both items on top of his shirt.

Taking her hand once again, Dan Heng led Stelle into the water. The higher the water got, the more pressure it took off her body until her stomach was fully submerged. At that point, she lay down in the sea, relishing the cool relief of the water.

Behind her, Dan Heng cradled her shoulders, supporting her as she floated. Beneath her, she felt the water move, gently pushing up on her as though she was sitting in a chair.

Stelle caught sight of the way Dan Heng’s horns glowed softly in the morning sun, a tell-tale sign he was using his powers to control the water around them. She couldn’t temper the smile that stretched across her lips. Playfully, she reached up to tap his horns. “You’re a good husband,” she spoke. “Ten outta ten would marry again.”

Chuckling, he snatched her hand, kissing the back of it. “It’s the least I can do.”

With a sigh, she let her eyes drift closed as she relaxed, allowing her ears to sink beneath the surface and hair to float around her as though to take away all other stimulation. That is, other than the muted vibrations of the water itself.

Until her baby kicking her in the lungs once again knocked the wind out of her.

“Baby, please,” she quietly pleaded.

At her plea, Dan Heng shifted her in his arms so he could lay a hand on the side of her stomach. Sadly, this shift took her head out of the water, but considering it now rested on his shoulder, she wasn’t complaining too much.

“They’ve been getting more active lately,” he commented.

“Maybe they’re getting ready to come out,” she said, mentally keeping her fingers crossed.

As though responding, the baby kicked out against her spine, sending every muscle in her stomach spasming. She bit back her whine, though failed to resist folding in on herself to compensate for the pain. Dan Heng's grip on her tightened, cradling her closer. 

After a moment, the pain subsided, and she loosened her grip on his hand. “I’m fine.”

He hummed flatly, a reaction she couldn’t quite judge.

That’s when the waves seemed to pick up in the sea. Not large by any account, but small enough to rock her body. Only after bobbing a few times did she realize Dan Heng was likely trying to calm the baby and keep her comfortable.

“Does that help?” he asked, confirming her suspicions.

“For now,” she answered. She tapped at her stomach with her free hand. “Can’t you just be happy?”

In protest, the baby shifted in her stomach, pressing out against her side and causing a little bulge in the process.

“That’s a no,” she muttered, reluctantly accepting her fate as she let her eyes drift closed.

For a while, they floated in the water together. Well, Stelle floated. She guessed Dan Heng was standing on the bottom of the sea the entire time they drifted around the coast, propping her up as she enjoyed floating. However, her enjoyment was inversely related to the amount her baby was moving around, and Baby was moving around a lot.

Finally, a glowing tail slipped out from the sea, draping over her stomach and giving it a light squeeze. Stelle couldn’t help but be captivated by the sight she rarely saw. Even when Dan Heng was in his vidyadhara form, he usually hid his tail for some odd reason she never felt comfortable poking into. He never volunteered that information, either.

Today, however, it was a most welcomed sight, especially since, oddly enough, that was what ultimately caused her baby to settle down just enough for her to finally enjoy the moment.

She gave Dan Heng’s hand a light squeeze. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

With a hum, he returned the gesture, a warmth flooding her heart at the action.

After some time, Stelle decided she’d had enough water for the day. A decision baby immediately protested with another kick to the ribs, one hard enough to send her core muscles spasming again.

“Maybe we should talk to Natasha,” Dan Heng said, already pulling Stelle back to shore.

“I don’t think anything is wrong,” Stelle grumbled, twisting so as to stand on the sea’s floor. “Baby is just being active in the wrong position today.”

Unconvinced, Dan Heng grunted. “Still, I would think it prudent.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll submit to a check-up.”

Hand in hand, they walked back up to dry land, Stelle feeling the weight of her belly as she did. Her back protested, having gotten too comfortable from floating. All she could do was heave a sigh. Hopefully, she would find permanent relief soon.  

Dan Heng grabbed one of the towels and draped it over her shoulders. “Would you like to sit for a moment?” he asked. “Or just go back as soon as possible?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Back it is. Be sure to dry off properly.”

"I will," she tiredly assured, snuggling into the towel for a moment before drying off. Even with her belly, she’d been able to manage many things by herself. Bending over had only been slightly inhibited by the bulge, but after some of those kicks today, she felt like her spine would protest that particular movement. “Hey, Dan Heng.”

“Yes?”

She took a deep breath. “I can’t reach my feet. I’m really sore right now.”

Without hesitation, Dan Heng knelt before her and dried off her legs. “There.”

"Thank you.”

Once they finished drying off, Dan Heng gave Stelle back her wrap dress. While she slipped into that, he pulled on his shirt again. She was only a twinge disappointed. Even with all the scars, Stelle did like looking over her husband. At times, she could even argue the scars made him more attractive.

And there’d been times during her pregnancy she’d almost admitted that, wanting to see what kind of reaction she’d get from him. Pregnancy hormones were a real thing, and they came in a shockingly wild range.

“Ready?” Dan Heng asked, dropping her sunhat back onto her head.

With a nod, she took his hand in hers.

He smiled at the action, pulling her close to his side as they walked back to the awaiting starskiff.

Only, she made it about five steps before warm water suddenly started running down her legs.

She froze, eyes shooting wide as her hand covered her stomach. Dan Heng looked back at her in concern. “You okay?”

Was she? She was trying to process what just happened. “Um,” she began, her mind whirling at light speed now. “A lot of warm water just poured down my legs. And I don’t think I peed myself.”

His eyes widened. “Your water broke?”

She took a breath, trying to get her rush of thoughts in order. The adrenaline wave that hit wasn't helping that process. “Pretty sure.”

“Okay,” Dan Heng said, his hand tightening its grip on hers. His eyes narrowed as he focused, but his breathing picked up. Or was that her imagination? She couldn’t tell; she was a ball of nerves at the moment. “Okay. Let’s go back. We’ll have one of the knights go find Natasha and Bailu.”

~~~  

Dan Heng hated watching Stelle go through labor. There wasn’t much he could do to help with her pain as the day dragged on. Sure, he could support her in whatever position she felt most comfortable, letting her lean on him as much as she needed, but that was all.

Then the sun fell below the horizon, night having fully come upon them, and that was like a switch for Stelle’s labor to worsen.

Finally, when the moon was high in the sky, twinkling stars scattered around it, a baby’s cry broke the calm of the night.

“It’s a boy.”

The world around him seemed to slow down and fade away as Natasha took the tiny infant and placed him in Stelle's arms

Despite her very evident exhaustion, Stelle’s entire expression brightened as she cradled the tiny newborn against her chest.

Dan Heng felt his heart swell, relief flooding his body knowing that Stelle and his son were both fine. But the smile he wore wouldn’t disappear any time soon. Instead, he took in the sight of his flawless newborn son resting peacefully against the stellaron scar on his wife’s chest, an ironically sharp contrast yet so perfect. It was a memory he hoped to carve into his mind and never forget.

“Good job,” he whispered, kissing Stelle’s forehead before reaching a shaky hand out to his son. He was almost hesitant to touch this tiny little baby but ultimately couldn’t resist.

It was fitting that this little boy was born at night, underneath the moon and stars, yet none of them were as bright and dazzling as the sight before him: his wife Stelle and little son Sirius, the two brightest stars in Dan Heng’s sky.

~~~

Dan Heng: Baby Sirius arrived last night, healthy and safely.

Himeko: Wonderful news! Can we see a picture?

Welt: Congratulations. How is Stelle fairing?

Stelle: Stelle is tired. But happy.

Dan Heng: 

“Hey.” Stelle looked up at Dan Heng. “When did you take that photo?”

“You weren’t paying attention?” Dan Heng asked, smile on his face.

“Obviously, I had better things on my mind.”

March: !!!

March: Awww! Yay! He’s here! So cute!!! <;3 

Caelus: My little nephew is adorable! Good job, sis!

March: He’s not just your nephew!

Caelus: Stelle is my sister. He’s my nephew!

March: >:( 

Stelle chuckled. “They aren’t even here, yet I swear I can literally hear March and Caelus arguing.”

Dan Heng hummed tiredly in agreement. “As can I.”

Himeko: You look wonderful for someone who just gave birth, Stelle.

Stelle: ??? I look exhausted. I don’t know why Dan Heng thought it was a good photo.

Himeko: But you’re glowing.

Stelle: You’re just flattering me, but I guess I’ll thank you. &lt;3

Himeko: ;) You can send a photo of him in retribution.

Stelle: Is that your way of asking for a photo of Dan Heng?

Stelle: Because I’m happy to give those.

Stelle: 

“When did you take that photo?” Dan Heng asked.

It was Stelle’s turn to smirk. “Were you not paying attention?”

With a resigned grin, Dan Heng sighed. “I had better things on my mind.”

Welt: Out of curiosity, how did you come up with the name Sirius?

Stelle: It’s the name of the hottest star recorded in the galaxy. 

Stelle: I was leaning towards a more traditional Xianzhou name but switched when I found that one.

That was mostly true; she had been trying to find a name she liked that was from Dan Heng’s home world, but she could tell he didn’t really like any of her choices even if he said he did. It was clear to her that her well-meaning attempts to stay traditional for his sake were falling flat for reasons she felt fairly safe in assuming. In the end, she decided to change directions and look elsewhere for names. Henceforth, her happening to stumble across a book on the formation of the cosmos during a bored spell was probably the best thing to have happened.

Welt: I was curious because, on my home planet, Sirius is the brightest star in the sky. It’s a fitting name.

Dan Heng: I thought the same when she presented it to me. I liked it better than the names I’d found.

Himeko: Oh, I know where that star is. I’ve flown by it a few times. 

Caelus: It’s a cool name. For MY nephew.

March: OUR nephew >:(

“Now Caelus is doing that on purpose,” Stelle said, unable to stop from smiling.

Dan Heng sighed. “And March is taking the bait too easily.”

Caelus: … we just got yelled at by our guide.

March: He said to stop teasing your wife.

Caelus: And you AGREED with him!

March: I’ll agree with some respect around here!

“I’m tempted to let them continue going at it,” Stelle said, not bothering to bite back her grin. “This is the best entertainment I’ve seen all week.”

Dan Heng huffed a laugh. “At this very moment, I’ll just say I don’t miss them all that much.”

Stelle sniggered, watching the duo continue to send a barrage of emojis back and forth.

Stelle: Dan Heng just said if you two can’t calm down, you don’t get babysitting privileges.

“Why are you saying I said that?”

“Do you disagree?”

“… No, I’m simply asking why you’re using my name.”

March: Yeah, Caelus!

Caelus: … okay. Our nephew.

March: Better!

“Because it works,” Stelle answered.

Unable to retaliate, Dan Heng shook his head in amusement.

Himeko: I know it’s probably too early to ask this, but when would you like to come back home?

At the word “home,” Stelle’s heart warmed. It wasn’t the first time she felt homesick during their stay here, but this was certainly the strongest wave that had hit her.

Dan Heng: Even though we want to return as soon as possible, I believe we should stay a day or two here to give Stelle time to properly recover.

Stelle: I’m so tired that I’m not even going to argue with that. 

Welt: As I believe you can assume, we are in the middle of a mission at the moment. Although Caelus and March should be finishing that up very soon.

March: The guide says we’re really close. I can feel it.

Caelus: Yeah, we’re definitely close. This place is a disaster zone.

March: My guess is we’ll be done by the end of the day here.

Himeko: We’re a two-day journey from the Luofu. I’ll keep you informed as to when we leave, and we’ll pick you three up as soon as possible. 

Dan Heng: Take your time. Don’t rush on our account.

March: How can we not? We miss you!

Caelus: and want to meet OUR nephew.

March: :D Good job.

Caelus: :P

Stelle: We’ll be happy to be back home whenever you can make it. But we can wait for you to finish things up properly. I will happily nap until you come. ;)

~~~

That evening, after Stelle and Dan Heng had slept the day away, the first visitors arrived to see the newborn vidyadhara. Dan Heng knew he shouldn’t be as on edge as he was considering who the visitors were, but that knowledge still wasn’t enough to calm him down.

“We come bearing gifts for the young one,” Jing Yuan greeted when Dan Heng answered the door.

“Come in,” he said, allowing the duo to enter the small house that had been loaned to Dan Heng and Stelle for the time being.

“Thank you.” Fu Xuan entered first, a small gift held close to her chest.

Jing Yuan entered after, but instead of scurrying off to find Stelle like Fu Xuan did, he lingered behind with Dan Heng. “Has Madam Yukong been by yet?”

Dan Heng shook his head as he closed the door. “No, you two are the first visitors.”

Jing Yuan’s smile grew. “Well, that’s quite an honor.” He then presented a cloth-wrapped item, one bound by twine, to Dan Heng. “A gift fitting for the son of the former High Elder of the Vidyadhara.”

“Thank you.” Dan Heng took the gift with a bow of thanks, knowing what it was immediately without having to open it. This was not the first weapon to be presented to his child, but this was the only one that made sense. A spear bestowed upon the son of the former Vidyadhara High Elder by the General of the Cloud Knights was a gift worthy of both the giver and receiver. “I shall leave it wrapped until he turns of age,” Dan Heng said.

Jing Yuan nodded. “Now, if I may, I’d like to meet this boy.”

Dan Heng led Jing Yuan to the bedroom, where the others were. “Be warned: you might find Bailu is not willing to share.”

That garnered a chuckle from the General. “When Lady Bailu came to report the good news to us, she did seem like she was in a hurry to leave.”

“She is already very attached to Sirius. I figured she would be, as she is the current High Elder.”

“While that is true, I doubt that is the only reason she is so attached. After all, this is her nephew.”

Upon entering the bedroom, they were greeted with the sight of Stelle and Bailu sitting on the futon, Sirius held protectively in Bailu’s arms as Fu Xuan leaned in close to look at the child.

“Good evening, General,” Natasha greeted from the side, watching on.

“Good evening to you, Doctor,” Jing Yuan returned.

“It seems you will have to wait your turn before greeting the little one,” Natasha spoke with a smile. “He is quite popular.”

“For good reason,” Jing Yuan assured. “But I can wait. I best not get in between those two. Fu Xuan has been anxious to come all day, and I can see Bailu has no desire to let the child go.”

Natasha giggled. “Lady Bailu is already a very protective aunt. It’s very sweet to see.”

“He is a full-blood.”

At Fu Xuan’s voice, everyone turned to face her.

“Pardon?” Dan Heng asked.

Fu Xuan looked over her shoulder at him. “I can confirm this child is a full-blooded vidyadhara. He will reincarnate as any other member of your species.”

“I thought so!” Bailu cried excitedly. “When I saw his ears, I believed it to be so, but even I as High Elder had no way of being certain. It’s not like anything like this has ever happened before.”

Dan Heng looked to Stelle, who was looking back at him with the same shocked expression he was undoubtedly wearing.

“Congratulations to the happy couple,” Jing Yuan said, patting Dan Heng firmly on the shoulder. “This is a blessed day, indeed.”

“With this confirmed,” Bailu began, “I want to start medicinal trials to test the medicine I gave to Stelle and Dan Heng. If there is a chance to expand the vidyadhara population, then we should waste no time. Though, I’ll have to talk to the sky-faring commission about getting me in contact with the proper channels to acquire the medicines I need.”

“The vidyadhara suffered losses in the aeon war,” Fu Xuan solemnly spoke. “So this is a blessing, indeed. Should your research bear fruit, the vidyadharan race will not disappear to time.”

A knock then sounded at the door.

“Would you like me to answer that?” Natasha asked Dan Heng.

“I’ll bet that is Madam Yukong,” Jing Yuan said, heading towards the door instead.

Dan Heng allowed him to go, if only so he could continue watching over his wife and son as they were swarmed. In an attempt to calm himself, he studied Stelle’s expression, trying to judge if she was feeling overwhelmed by the guests or not. If she was, then he’d waste no time kicking everyone out, but she seemed calm enough, meaning he should really settle down, too.

“Isn’t this amazing, Dan Heng?” Bailu asked. “You’re the first vidyadhara to reproduce, proving we can save our race. With this, no one can hate you now!”

Dan Heng gave Bailu a sad smile. “Logically, it makes sense, but emotions are far more complicated.”

She made a show of frowning. “Well, as High Elder, I have the ability to exile the emotional ones.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sass in her tone.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Yukong spoke, approaching the commotion. “I was held up far longer than I wished to be.”

Stelle shot her a smile. “You’re right on time.”

“Hey,” Fu Xuan snipped. “Bailu, let me hold him.”

“As High Elder of the Vidyadhara,” Bailu began in a haughty tone, “it is my duty to protect all of my people, no matter what age.”

“What are you protecting him from?” Fu Xuan argued. “Come on.”

Stelle poked Bailu’s shoulder. “Bailu, share my son, please.”

With an exaggerated pout, Bailu carefully handed Sirius over to Fu Xuan.

“I thought you didn’t like small children,” Jing Yuan teased.

He was swiftly met with a death glare. “Only the obnoxious ones,” Fu Xuan muttered, staying extremely still as she cradled the bundle in her arms. “Besides, this is an honor.”

Yukong approached Stelle, who’d since stood from the futon. “Here,” Yukong said, presenting to her a box wrapped in decorative paper. “This is on behalf of the sky-faring commission. There are two items, one I will leave a surprise, but since you’ve been presented with gifts from these two already, I suspect you might know what the second gift is.”

Stelle nodded. “Is it a starskiff toy?”

Yukong’s soft smile widened. “Yes. So that when your son is old enough, he may reach for his future.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jing Yuan prompted, reaching over Fu Xuan’s shoulder to rub his finger over the little baby’s cheek. “He is the son of Dan Heng, undoubtedly a fighter at heart. He will reach for the spear.”

“How can you say he won’t reach for the jade abacus?” Fu Xuan questioned. “As the first vidyadhara to be born, he could come with a great destiny and sense of justice.”

“But he is the child of great adventurers," Yukong said. "Surely, he will reach for the starskiff.”

An overwhelming sense of unease once again weighed on Dan Heng’s shoulders. Even though the three visitors were all gentle and cautious, Dan Heng wished nothing more than to take his son into his own arms to shield him from the destinies that each one of the three wanted to impose upon him. And as Sirius’ father, he felt that was his job to do so.

Thankfully, Sirius gave him the opportunity to do just that without looking over-protective. The moment the little boy began to fuss from the attention, Dan Heng was quick to take his son from Fu Xuan, lightly bouncing him in an attempt to calm him back down. In his father's arms, it didn’t take long for Sirius to settle back to sleep.

Relieved, Dan Heng turned back to the guests. “I thank you for the gifts,” he said. “However, I believe that it would be unfair to make him choose one path.”

“You’re right.” Stelle sided up next to him. “Besides, he’s a Nameless. He’s bound to be all three.”

Finally, Dan Heng felt the unease weighing on his shoulders lift away. With his son protected in his arms and his wife by his side, everything was once again right in the world.

Yukong was the first to give them a nod of approval. “I suppose you’re right. A protector, an explorer, and a seeker of justice. May his future be his namesake: burning brightly among the stars.”

~~~

“Are you sure everything is packed?” Dan Heng asked.

“I already looked over the house twice,” Stelle answered. “I couldn’t find anything of ours. That is, unless Bailu stole something to make us come back.”

“I did no such thing!” Bailu protested before she cringed at her volume, guiltily looking down at the sleeping baby in her arms. “Although, I wish I would have thought of that sooner.”

Stelle couldn’t help but smile at the murmured admission. “We’ll do our best to visit frequently.”

“You have to promise!”

“I swear. Right, Dan Heng?”

“We promise,” Dan Heng reiterated.

Bailu’s panicked expression relaxed. “Good. And I’ll do my best to visit you on your travels, too. I miss you guys, but I’ll miss this little one the most,” she finished, beaming down at Sirius.

Stelle had to admit she’d enjoyed watching her baby be so spoiled for attention. Of course, Stelle much preferred holding her son herself, finding that simple action filled her with joy to the point she never wanted to let him go. Maybe that was because Sirius was not only her first child but also her unexpected miracle child. Becoming a mother hadn't really been on her radar, and it fully vanished after she'd married Dan Heng, but now she could say she might be the most excited to take this journey compared to any other before it.

… as long as nobody asked her about her thoughts when she inevitably became sleep-deprived from a crying baby.

“Then, if we have everything,” Dan Heng said, “we should head out. I’m sure the others are anxiously waiting for us to return.”

“Very likely.”

Natasha soon appeared in the doorway. “I did one last sweep of the house. I believe I have everything, and I didn’t see anything of yours.”

“We’re all set here,” Stelle returned. “Although, I do have one favor to ask of you.”

“Sure.”

Stelle then reached for the baby wrap she’d laid on top of her luggage. “I’ve watched that video ten times, and I still can’t quite figure out how to use this.”

Natasha chuckled. “That’s a little new to me, too, but I think I figured it out.”

Between the two of them, they managed to figure out how to wrap the long strip of fabric around Stelle properly. Once they felt confident in their work, Stelle took Sirius from Bailu—who gave him up only after whispering a goodbye and pressing a little kiss to his forehead—and slipped him into the newly formed baby sling.

“Hey, this actually feels pretty secure,” Stelle murmured, impressed. “Decently comfortable, too.”

Dan Heng held up the other baby carrier they’d brought with them. “Then would you like me to pack away this away?”

Stelle nodded. “Please.”

Bailu quirked a brow at the carrier before looking at Stelle. “Makes me wonder why you tried the harder one when you had an easier option.”

“I didn’t like the way it fit,” Stelle answered, reaching for the little knit baby hat with animal ears she’d received from Belobog. “It felt too bulky, but it was the backup if this didn’t work.”

“You sure had many options to choose from,” Natasha commented.

Stelle cringed as she slid the hat over Sirius’ head, covering his wispy gray hair. “Yeah, we got… a lot of baby shower gifts.”

Natasha giggled. “I’m not surprised. You two are quite beloved by the galaxy. It served to provide you with a lovely, well-stocked nursery. But don’t worry; I won’t tell Hook that you hid her teddy bear.”

“It’s not because I don’t love it,” Stelle quickly countered. “I just… want Sirius to be old enough to appreciate it.”

“And,” Dan Heng added, “not ruin it quickly by having to wash it frequently.”

Natasha hummed. “True. Then when Hook inevitably asks, that’s what I’ll tell her.”

Dan Heng zipped the last of their luggage shut, then stood from the ground. “With that done, we are ready.”

“Aww,” Bailu whined. “It feels so soon.”

“We were here for a month,” Stelle said.

“And I enjoyed every second of it,” Bailu said. “But I’ll miss you.”

Stelle held out her arm, allowing Bailu to side up to her in a hug.

“We’ll miss you, too,” Stelle returned, holding Bailu against her side.

Bailu then reached up to rub Sirius’ back one last time. “It was good to meet you,” she said. “I know I won’t be around all the time, but just remember Auntie Bailu loves you.”

Stelle pursed her lips, doing her best to hold back her urge to coo over the sweetness of it all. She’d discovered that giving birth didn’t instantly relieve her of the weird emotional swings. It probably just took some time to get out of her system.

After reluctantly leaving Sirius to Stelle, Bailu headed over to Dan Heng, fully throwing her arms around his torso.

With a gentle smile, Dan Heng wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you for everything Bailu.”

“I was happy to do it,” Bailu said. “I’m just sorry I can’t walk you back to the Express—”

“You have a backlog of work, don’t you?” Dan Heng teased.

Although she didn’t use words, her whiny grumble made it perfectly clear Dan Heng was spot on.

With one last pat on her back, Dan Heng let her go. Bailu then quickly wiped her eyes before turning to Natasha. “It was nice to meet you, Miss Natasha.”

“Likewise,” she returned.

“I’m glad you were here for Stelle and Dan Heng. You’re a pretty good doctor.”

“Well, that’s quite the compliment coming from you. You’re immensely talented yourself.”

Bailu’s grin widened with pride. “Thank you.”

“Also, I want thank you for allowing me access to so many books and leading me around the alchemy commission. I hope I didn’t intrude into your work too much.”

“Nah, not at all.”

Dan Heng cleared his throat. “It’s not her healer work she’s behind on.”

At that, Bailu guiltily ducked her head, her tail falling to the ground. “Uh, oops?”

“Once we leave, don’t even think about running from your responsibilities.”

“I won’t, I won’t. I promise.”

Dan Heng patted her head in approval.

Stelle reached for the baby's backpack, trying not to jostle around too much and wake her son as she slid the large pack on. Thankfully, he seemed to be sleeping pretty well for now, but Stelle wondered exactly how long that would last. Considering she’d recently changed his diaper and fed him, she hoped they could make it to the Express before he got fussy. She was still new to this newborn thing, so she didn’t have things like timing all worked out quite yet.

Dan Heng reached for the rest of their luggage, and as a group, they started making their way to the door, where a handful of cloud knights were positioned. However, what Stelle hadn’t expected was the presence of a young blond man.

“Heya!” Yanqing greeted, a sunny smile on his face as he waved in greeting. “The General asked me to escort you guys back to the Astral Express safely.”

“Thank you,” Dan Heng said. “Jing Yuan said you were elsewhere for training. I didn’t realize you were back on the Luofu.”

“Just got back last night. Otherwise, you would have seen me earlier. Congratulations, by the way.”

Dan Heng simply nodded while Stelle properly thanked him.

“Need help with your bags?” he offered.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Stelle answered, looking at the large bag full of new gifts they’d received. “We’re leaving with more than we arrived with.”

“I’ve gotta go,” Bailu piped up. “Otherwise, I would have helped them. I was gonna ask one of the knights to carry that before I left.”

“I got it,” Yanqing assured, reaching for the new bag. He then pointed to the wrapped pole weapon Dan Heng was skillfully carrying along with everything else. “Is that from the General? I can get that, too.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

After jockeying the baggage around, they headed off, Bailu waving goodbye as they went. It took a minute for Stelle to get struck by the strangeness of the moment, though. This was the first time she’d left the house since giving birth, and this was Sirius’ first outing ever. Her desire to show him everything clashed with her new hyperawareness of things that could go wrong in this moment. Subconsciously, she wrapped her hands around her baby.

But then Dan Heng took her hand, giving it a squeeze. Just like that, Stelle felt herself settle. She shot him a smile as she returned the gesture, then allowed him to lead her back to the Astral Express.

No, not just to the Express. Back home.

The majority of their trip was made on starskiff back to the docks where the Express was. But upon arriving, Stelle spotted two very familiar faces. “March? And Caelus?”

“There they are!” March cried as the starskiff docked. She then poked Caelus in the side. “I told you it was this one.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Caelus muttered.

“Don’t forget our little bet.”

He just threw his hands up in the air in surrender. Then he reached a hand forward to help grab the luggage. “I can get that.”

“Oh, yeah,” March chimed in. “I’ll get whatever you can’t carry.”

After offloading the luggage, Yanqing disembarked the skiff before extending a helping hand for Natasha.

“Oh," she said, taking the offered help. "What a little gentleman.”

A light blush dusted his cheeks at the praise.

Dan Heng was the next one off the skiff, he then held a hand out to help Stelle out of the skiff.

Only, the moment she stepped foot on the docks, she was instantly swarmed.

“Aww!” March cooed first. “He’s so cute!”

“Hey, Little Buddy,” Caelus softly spoke, looking over Stelle's shoulder at Sirius.

“I didn’t expect you two to come meet us,” Dan Heng said.

“We couldn’t help it,” Caelus admitted.

“It was my idea to come meet you guys,” March confessed. “We only just docked the Express and were too anxious to sit still.”

“I think Welt and Himeko sent us to come fetch you because they were tired of watching us,” Caelus said.

“They’re anxious to see you, too,” March finished. “So let’s head out.”

Before Dan Heng could reach for any of the luggage, Caelus grabbed hold of it and started marching on. As for March, she threw the baby's backpack over her shoulders and was quick to follow.

“How’d you like your trip, Natasha?” March asked, turning to the forgotten member of their crew.

The woman beamed. “It was incredible.”

The conversation continued, coming back to Stelle and Dan Heng every once in a while. Stelle found herself eager to grab hold of the banter. She’d missed this, talking with her family. Sure, they’d chatted over the phone or through texts, but it wasn’t the same.

When the Astral Express finally came into view, Stelle felt an overwhelming feeling of happiness. She’d been homesick several times while on the Luofu, a sentiment she knew Dan Heng echoed. However, she hadn’t realized just how homesick she’d been until right now. For the first time, she felt like she and Dan Heng had truly made the correct decision to stay with the Express instead of settling down elsewhere. No matter how difficult this would be, they knew they would make it work. Ultimately, their home was among the stars with their family.

“There’s your home, Buddy,” Stelle whispered to the baby who was beginning to fuss a bit more. Although whether that meant diaper change or food, Stelle wasn’t sure. Maybe, if she was lucky, he just didn’t like the commotion going on around him and needed to go back to sleep. She could keep her fingers crossed, but she did her best to not hold her hopes too high.

After bidding goodbye to the cloud knights and Yanqing, they finally—finally—boarded the Express.

Oh, it was incredible being back home.

“Welcome back!” Himeko was the first to greet them, Welt echoing the statement a second behind her.

“We’re home,” Stelle returned, her smile threatening to split her face in two.

“Ahh!” Himeko squeaked, approaching with a little spring in her step. “Look at him! He's so precious."

Stelle looked down at Sirius, who now no longer fussed and instead looked calm as he stared at Himeko.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” Welt offered Stelle. “I have the feeling that we all wish to get a close look at him, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Stelle was happy to take a seat on the couch. It had been nice to stretch her legs, but there was something about having arrived home after being away for so long that zapped any remaining energy she’d had.

“I can go put the suitcases away,” Dan Heng offered.

“Got it!” Caelus said, already heading off down the hallway towards the bedrooms. “You’re good; I’ll be right back.”

“Ditto!” March chimed in, scurrying after Caelus.

“I’d like to put mine away, as well,” Natasha spoke up. “But I’ll be right back.”

Which left just five in the parlor.

“He seems to have calmed down,” Dan Heng mentioned, taking a seat right next to Stelle.

“Yeah, but I’d like to sniff-test him, anyway,” Stelle spoke, already pulling him from the baby wrap. Thankfully, taking him out seemed a little easier than putting him in, and the process also happened to put his little baby bottom close to her nose, allowing her to discretely check for any issues.

Shockingly, none yet. Maybe he really had been just fussy to get home.

“He’s so small,” Pom-pom cooed in a whisper.

Humming in agreement, Himeko nodded. “Oh, he’s adorable."

“Welt,” Dan Heng spoke up. “Would… you like to be the first to hold him?”

Surprised flashed across Welt’s face, but after the words sank in, a soft smile replaced that expression. “I… I would be honored.”

Carefully, Stelle transferred Sirius over into Welt’s expecting arms. Having already surrendered the newborn to Bailu and Natasha—and of course Dan Heng, but that went without saying—many times already, Stelle wasn’t nervous as she watched Welt cradle Sirius with a level of care that surprised her. He seemed to be a natural.

“I got to admit,” Himeko teased as she leaned over Welt’s arms. “I’m a little jealous.”

“What’d we miss?” March cried, suddenly bursting into the room. Upon spying the scene, she instantly whined. “And here I wanted to hold him.”

Dan Heng spoke up, “As the elder, Welt earned the first privilege.”

March pursed her lips in slight disappointment but didn’t put up a fight. “Fair enough.”

“Sounds like I’ll be last,” Caelus said, making a show of sighing.

“Deal with it,” March good-naturedly teased, playfully elbowing him in the ribs.

He made a show of being in pain.

To which March rolled her eyes.

After a minute, Welt passed Sirius over to Himeko. The little baby fussed at the motion but soon settled in Himeko’s arms.

“Welcome, Little Trailblazer,” she whispered, looking down with a gentle grin.

Welt soon started up questions of how their trip was, to which Stelle was happy to tell them all about it, Dan Heng chiming in every once in a while. Stelle did her best to include Natasha in the conversation, too, but Natasha seemed more than content to bat the conversation back to Stelle and Dan Heng.

Soon enough, Sirius was passed to March. Stelle, who’d had an eagle-eye on her son despite trusting her family completely, made March sit down before taking him from Himeko. Pom-pom had passed on their chance, shaking nervously at the prospect, yet they seemed happy to waggle their ears at Sirius in an attempt to get a reaction from the little one.

Finally, it was Caelus’ turn. Dan Heng stood to help March transfer Sirius to Caelus. Only, Caelus got to enjoy the baby for three seconds before Sirius's little face scrunched. 

"Oops," March teased. "Seems you're not the favorite."

Caelus, who was looking distressed at the prospect, tried to bounce Sirius lightly in a desperate attempt to calm him. But he soon stopped, his nervous smile contorting into one of discomfort. “What’s that smell?”

With a resigned smile, Stelle tiredly sighed. “Um, exactly what I was waiting to happen.”

“You can stay,” Dan Heng told her, already taking the baby from Caelus. “I know you’re tired from the trip. I’ll go change him."

“I’d appreciate that, but there’s a chance he’ll be hungry, too.”

“Then I’ll come back out with him if he doesn’t seem like he’d going to fall back asleep easily.”

“Okay.”

With a smile, he gave her a nod before heading down the corridor.

“Bring the baby monitor when you come back out,” she called out after him.

“Don’t worry; I will.”

Natasha grinned at the scene. “You two are already incredible parents.”

Stelle’s grin turned nervous. “It’s still so…weird? If that makes sense.”

Natasha shook her head. “It will take some getting used to, especially since it’s your first. Honestly, the hardest part of a baby is dealing with everything while lacking sleep. That’s why a family who’s willing to help is the best gift you can possibly receive.”

“I’ll babysit!” March eagerly volunteered.

“Same!” Caelus chimed in.

“Of course!” Himeko agreed. “It’s not every day you get a little one around here.”

“He’s part of the Nameless now,” Welt finished. “We’ll be happy to lend a hand when you need one.”

Their words offered more relief than Stelle had expected. As happy as she was to be home on the Astral Express, she would say she was most thankful knowing she and Dan Heng weren’t alone. They had an amazing family at their side to depend on when the trials grew rough, and that meant the galaxy to her. “Thanks, everyone. It’s really good to be back home.”

[optimisticgrey]

A Song of Love and Loss, Part 12: Celeste

Pairing: Named Tav (Celeste), Halsin, Gale, Astarion

WC: 4936

Warnings: This scene contains themes of deep emotional distress.

Read on AO3

Song recommendation

Celeste doesn’t remember the last time she felt this kind of peace. The sun hasn’t risen yet, and the darkness still holds sway, but it no longer looms or casts threatening shadows. The city remains quiet, its usual hum stilled, and she savors the moment with her eyes closed. The linens beneath her fingers are crisp and clean, soft against her skin. She instinctively reaches toward Gale’s side of the bed, but her fingertips meet only the lingering warmth of where he had been. A soft smile spreads across her lips. She opens her eyes slowly. She doesn’t need to guess where he is, the faint clatter of utensils and the gentle rhythm of movement in the kitchen speak volumes. For the first time in months, she rises with less pain. It’s not gone entirely. Her ribs still ache, and her muscles protest as she moves. But the sharp edge has dulled. The worst of the wounds have healed, and though she can’t say how long she has slept, she feels helped amplify her dearest people’s magic. Her gaze drifts around the room, taking in its details in the faint light. Nothing has changed. Gale hasn’t changed a single thing in her absence. Even the chests she uses to store her clothes, much to his chagrin, remain undisturbed. He still hasn’t bought her a wardrobe, despite his exaggerated protests. Everything is as it should be, as if waiting for her return. That’s when she notices it: a shirt of his, crumpled and forgotten on the floor beside his side of the bed. Bending slowly, she picks it up. The moment she buries her face in the fabric, the scent of him washes over her. Warm, comforting, with faint notes of parchment and tea, the kind of scent that feels like an embrace. It smells like himself. It smells like home.

She holds the shirt tightly in her hands, letting the feelings wash over her, grounding herself in the simplicity of this moment. Then, slipping the shirt over her head, she finds it too large, the sleeves hanging loose, but it feels perfect all the same. Scratch lies curled near the bed, his soft breaths even. She crouches briefly, giving him a gentle pat without waking him, then rises and makes her way out of the bedroom. The house is dark and quiet, but it brims with a strange, familiar beauty. The floor creaks beneath her steps in the way she remembers, each groan a reassurance. The wood panels feel distinct under her bare feet, and the faint scent of tea, dust, and old books hangs in the air, mingled with the lingering aroma of something Gale must have cooked. As she passes through the hallway, her gaze falls on the small paintings and arcane scribbles pinned to the walls. Each detail a snapshot of their life together. Her eyes pause on the wedding portrait Gale’s mother had insisted on. It hangs in the hallway, its placement more an act of avoidance than display. She takes in Gale’s forced smile, his hand awkwardly resting on her shoulder, and her own image in a deep purple dress she would never have chosen. It earns a faint chuckle before she moves on. In the kitchen, the room glows faintly, lit by the fire in the oven they had repositioned to the center of the space. The surrounding counters have been cleaned, the shelves below and up the wall organized. Gale has been busy, he usually enjoys a certain level of clutter. Cut vegetables left for later use, half an apple dipped in lemon to keep it from browning. A bottle of milk he got from the cellar just to pass a sip into his teas.

Celeste notices the teapot on the stove and reaches for a dangling cup. The herbal tea surprises her. Halsin’s choice. She slowly embraces the cup with her hands, enjoying the warmth of it slowing working it’s way into her fingers. The steam rising to her face tickles a little but feels nice and warm. For a moment, she lets the sensations flow over her.

“Celeste?” Gale’s voice is soft, laced with surprise and concern. It pulls her from her thoughts, and her eyes flutter open. He steps closer, worry etched into every line of his face.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed, my love. Are you alright? Whatever you need, I’ll fetch it for you.” “I woke up and you were not there,” Celeste answers but her mind is somehow…slow. She struggles to find the right words to express herself, her mind heavy and uncooperative. She carefully sips from the tea and smiles as their eyes meet. His eyes, dark and expressive, endlessly deep, are what she has always loved most about him. Though Gale is capable of weaving words into intricate truths or necessary lies, she has always been able to see the raw honesty in his gaze. She reaches out to hug him and a shudder shaking her to her core runs through her body as he embraces her. “Gale.” “Celeste,” he murmurs, burying his face in her hair. For a moment, they just hold each other. “Were you in the garden?” she asks quietly, clinging to him and Gale nods. She can feel the conflict tensing him. He wants to guide her back to bed, to cocoon her in blankets and soothe her back to sleep, but she knows he won’t press the matter. Gale understands that convincing her to rest when she doesn’t wish to would be a losing battle. “I am indeed. You see, while you were… absent,” his voice trails off momentarily as he clears his throat, “it became something of a custom for Halsin and me to share a pot of late tea.” Celeste smiles, gently stroking the back of his head. Simply holding him. “I am glad you are reconnecting. This might benefit both of you.” “I understand, Celeste,” he says carefully, moving just enough to look at her. His hands gently cups her cheek, she reaches for it to kiss it. His hand is wonderfully warm and soft. She wonders if she has ever noticed it before. “What do you understand, my love?” She askes gently, somehow still lost in his eyes. Did they always sparkle like this? “How you feel for him. What you feel for him. And what you need of me in all this… I confess, I didn’t plan to broach this subject so soon. But here you are, out of bed and joining us in the garden,” he said, hesitating for a moment before offering a gentle smile. “I understand that you love and need him.” “I do,” she smiles weakly, her eyes searching his face. “But I always have and you have always known. What has changed?” “That much is true, my love,” he replies, a trace of pride colouring his voice. “I could never have managed your absence without his help. And to be honest, I barely managed at all.” His shoulders fall in a heavy sigh. “I regret how I handled everything in the past and see now how much pain I caused you. Please, allow me to make amends. Let me mend what I’ve broken by giving you the love and support you’ve always deserved.” Celeste smiles warmly, raising her hand to his cheek. “Gale, my love, what are you talking about? You have always loved me deeply.” Finding the right words is incredibly hard and costs her more strength than she anticipated. “Forgive me,” she smiles weakly. “My mind is still slow and somehow…heavy? I have problems finding the right words. Can we sit in the garden? Just for a moment.” “Certainly, my love. Allow me to fetch you a blanket; it’s rather chilly out there.” Celeste refills her cup and walked slowly. She is not feeling unsteady on her feet, yet makes sure to take every step deliberately. Gale comes rushing back, sliding a blanket around her shoulders and offers one for her legs as well. As Celeste enters the garden, she freezes. Her mind stumbles, struggling to comprehend the scene before her. Halsin leans casually against the porch, his legs stretched out, his pipe releasing faint wisps of smoke. He looks up, his smile warm and inviting. But it’s the figure on the grass that steals her breath. Astarion.

Continue on AO3

[sequinsmile-x]

Home - Chapter Two

Revenge - (re·​venge: Noun.)

The action of hurting or harming someone in return for an injury or wrong suffered at their hands.

She'd been comfortable and safe for so long that she'd allowed herself how to forget how it felt to be afraid.

A sequel to The Way Home

-x-

First off, this is my 2000th post on this blog!! Thank you so much for being here <3

Thank you SO much for the love on chapter one! This universe means so much to me so I am pleased you are enjoying it.

I hope you like this chapter too and would love to know what you think!

I will usually post this fic on Fridays, however I have plans the next couple of nights so I thought I'd post it early!

-x-

Words: 3.5k

A full list of warnings can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs in relief as she hears the front door open and then immediately close again. She turns her wrist to look at her watch and calls over her shoulder.

“You’re a bit later than I thought you’d be,” she says with no judgement in her voice, “I cooked for Ellie, but I thought we could eat together. I told her to wait until you got home for ice cream, she’s down in the den,” she continues with her task of putting dishes in the dishwasher as she talks, his footsteps getting louder as he approaches the kitchen

“Now you’re home I’ll put dinner in the oven, Haley brought…” She turns to look at him, her words drifting off as she does so. He looks tense. Every muscle in his body tight, a look on his face that she rarely saw in their home, a look that she wouldn’t have thought him capable of back in their college days, “Aaron, what’s wrong?” 

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and his thumb, all of the rehearsal he’d done on the way home of how to tell her was pointless, none of it coming to him how he was standing in front of her. 

“Maybe you should sit down.” 

She falters, swallowing thickly as dread scratches up her throat, leaving it feeling raw in a way that sparks a memory she’d rather forget. 

“Aaron…you’re kind of freaking me out,” she says, stepping towards him her arms crossed tight over her body, “Just tell me what’s wrong.” 

“The reason I was late…” he clears his throat, and he finally looks at her, his eyes full of fear and devastation and it only makes her feel worse. He’d always been her port in a storm, the foundation she had laid her life upon when she’d had to rebuild it. She’d rarely seen him rattled, and could count on one hand the number of times he had genuinely been afraid, “There was a riot in Red Onion prison and two prisoners escaped. One of them was George Foyet.” 

“Oh my god,” she exclaims, reaching out and putting her hand on his arm, squeezing it tightly “Fuck, thats…” she blows out a breath, shaking her head at the thought of it. “They’ll find him, Aaron. They did before,” she pauses, waiting for him to continue but he doesn’t, “Who was the other prisoner?” She feels his arm tense under her hand, his muscles impossibly tight, and she frowns. “Honey-”

“It was his cellmate,” he says, placing his hand over hers on his arm, linking their fingers together so she remembers he’s there, “It’s Ian Doyle.” 

She laughs, the sound escaping her before she can stop it, catching on her ribs on its way out. Her throat feels tight, a familiar hand around it as she tries to swallow, her eyes wide as she looks at her husband. 

“Not Ian, Ian though, right?” She asks even though she already knows the answer, her worst fear is confirmed when Aaron simply looks at her, nodding as his lips form a tight line. “Wh…what?” She chokes out, she feels her hands start to tremble and she clenches them into fists in a failed attempt to try and stop it, her nails digging into her palms so she can feel something, anything, other than the panic that threatened to choke her just like Ian once had. “No.” 

“Sweetheart-” Aaron steps forward, reaching out to touch her, and she moves backwards, her feet unsteady as she almost trips over herself. 

“Don’t touch me,” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around herself, trying and failing to suck in air, her lungs filled with panic instead. 

She can’t breathe. 

“Ok, I won’t,” he assures her, “I won’t touch you,” he holds his hands up so she can see them, so she knows whatever she can currently feel, the ghost of the violent touch from a man who once claimed to love her making her shiver, her eyes wide as she looks at him, “I’m going to stay right here.” 

She stumbles backwards, her hands slipping as she leans on the kitchen counter, turning just in time to throw up into the sink. Her throat feels like it’s burning from the inside out, her body curling in on itself as she struggles to figure out what's happening, when she’ll wake up from her literal worst nightmare come to life. 

He’d escaped. And she can’t breathe. 

“Em,” He says, trying not to spook her, but she turns sharply anyway, a muscle in her neck creaking as she looks at him, he wants nothing more than to hold her, to pull her into his arms and take all of this away. But he’d never been unable to undo any of it, never been able to take away the pain Ian had caused her. All he could do was be here for her, an unrelenting force of love and support in the face of the inpatient pain that never quite let her go, “I’m here. You’re safe.” 

She nods and presses her hand into her chest which was moving rapidly up and down. The smell of whiskey and smoke assaults her, flitting across her face and suddenly she’s 21 again, standing outside the building she used to live in, her wrist aching where the bone had shattered, the brick wall scratching at her skin. Everything is hazy except for the feel of Ian’s hand around her throat, the smell of the cigarettes he preferred, the ones she’d bought him more than once, suffocating her. 

“Emily, baby, I need you to breathe for me.” 

She can’t breathe.

She opens her eyes and looks at Aaron, her eyes locking with his, and she shakes her head, “I can’t,” she chokes out, her nails scratching at her chest, red welts left behind as she all but tries to reach into it, as if she could somehow tear out the memory of it all.

He reaches out for her but stops himself, knowing from experience, from those early days when her throat was still bruised and her eyes still bloodshot, blown blood vessels splattered across her face like a grim painting, that touching her won’t help.

“Em,” he says carefully, well aware that their daughter is only a few rooms away, that she could walk in at any moment. He waits until Emily is looking at him and he steps towards her, careful to make sure there is still space between them, “Put your hand on my chest.”

She swallows thickly, nausea making her stomach flip and she furrows her brows, “Wh..what?”

“Put your hand on my chest,” he repeats, just as calmly, and he watches as she removes her hand from her chest and places it on his, the way she tremors reminds him of that night, of when she’d almost been killed, “Can you feel me breathing?” He asks, focusing on how he’s doing it, making sure he’s purposeful in how deeply he’s breathing, she nods, her own chest still stuttering, “Do you think you can breathe with me?” 

She nods again, although he knows it’s more of an acknowledgement that she’s heard him than agreement. She pays close attention to the way his chest moves up and down, focusing on it until she starts to feel her panic fade. Breathing gets slowly easier and the smell of whiskey and fear shifts to the familiar scent of home. The smell of the dinner she’d cooked for Eleanor that was still lingering in the air, the smell of Aaron’s cologne. 

The life she’d built for herself because she survived. 

She leans forward and presses her forehead into Aaron’s neck, before wrapping her other arm around him, trapping the hand against his chest between them as she all but collapses into him. He finally wraps his arms around her now she was ready to be comforted by him. All of her weight is against him and he kisses the top of her head. 

“I’ve got you,” he says, kissing her again, “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he directs them towards the living room, holding onto her as she stumbles, her coordination still not quite back online. 

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, her voice muffled against his shirt, “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Em,” he assures her, running his hand up and down her back, “I’m sorry, I should have…waited or told you in a different way.”

She pulls back just enough to look at him and she shakes her head, “No, you did the right thing,” she says, and she tries to smile at him but it shakes. He wipes under her eye with his thumb, removing a tear that is almost immediately replaced. “What happened? How did he…” 

She can’t say it. Can’t put it into words because she knows it will make her spiral again, worst-case scenarios threatening to suffocate her as her chest gets tighter at the mere thought of him being free. There were still a few years left of his sentence, and then there would be a protection order. A legality that would mean he’d go straight back to prison if he so much as contacted her, something that had allowed her to hope that he’d stay away. But he’d escaped from prison and, if he had the number of people after him she knew he would, he had nothing to lose. 

And that terrified her. 

“I don’t have a lot of details right now,” he says, hating how she physically deflates in front of him, her shoulders sagging, “I don’t know why Foyet was allowed to be in a cell with someone with a personal connection to me.”

She chuckles dryly, “To be fair honey, I think you’ve probably put away half of the guys in there.” 

He hums, smiling weakly at her as he reaches out for her hand, “Regardless, Grant Anderson is looking into it for me, he said he’d stay all night to get to the bottom of it.”

“That’s sweet,” she replies, and her smile slips away. They fall into silence and it feels stifling, a type of suffocation she’d grown up around but had never felt here in the home she had bought with Aaron. 

She remembered the first time they pulled up outside, freshly married and in search of a house in place of the apartment they’d had since they moved to DC. She’d fallen in love with it instantly. It was by no means a small house, she knew it was actually quite the opposite, but it felt homely, unlike every other house she’d ever lived in. The porch had a swing that the previous owner had left them, and when she had Eleanor it was her favourite place to sit with her, the newborn wrapped up warm as Emily watched the sun rise over their street. 

Every nook and cranny of the house was theirs, home. Every room had a story that she loved. A mark on the wooden floor in the dining room caused by Jack dropping a plate when he was 10. The paint splattered on the curtain in the den from when Eleanor had been given paint by Penelope for her third birthday. Messy proof that they were a family and had a place to be. She hated that she could feel like this here, that Ian could get to her after all this time.

“I’m…afraid,” she says, looking up at him through shining eyes, her chin trembling with the force of her emotions, “I’m so scared Aaron, and I hate it.” 

“They’ll find him, Em,” he says, cupping her face in between his hands, “And until they do, I’ll be right here.” 

She smiles shakily at him, “You can’t promise that.” 

“I can.” 

“You have work-”

“I let you out of my sight last time and he…” he says firmly, stopping himself before he goes too far, before he opens up old wounds of his own that they have no time for. He blows out a steady breath, “I’m not doing it again.”

She knows it isn’t that simple. That he can’t just take time off work because of this, but she nods, wanting nothing more than for it to be true, “Ok.” 

A door opens down the hall and Eleanor’s familiar footfall rushes towards them, “Mommy, Daddy, I want ice cream.”

Aaron watches as his wife straightens up in front of him, any vulnerability, any fear, disappearing as she stands, hiding away the things she doesn’t want to show their little girl. She smiles at him once more before she heads out of the living room. 

“Careful on the floor in just your socks, Ellie,” Emily says, her voice tighter than usual, “If we have to take you to hospital that will delay getting ice cream.” 

Aaron gives himself a moment before he joins them, covering his face with his hands as he breathes slowly, trying to come to terms with the news that had shaken him, his concern that Foyet was out there as sharp as his concern about Ian. 

Something told him that this was nowhere near over. 

“Daddy!” 

He shakes his head at himself and stands up, heading towards the kitchen, wanting nothing more than to pretend it was a normal evening when it was anything but. 

“Coming princess.” 

___

He doesn’t question it when she puts Eleanor down in their bed that night, breaking a long-standing promise that they’d at least put her to sleep in her own bed, even if she moved to theirs by morning. 

Emily ends up sandwiched between the two of them, laying in the middle of the bed as their daughter slept on her side. Aaron wraps his arms around Emily from behind, his chest against her back so she can feel him breathing. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” she says, settling into his embrace, her eyes fixed on Eleanor as she sleeps soundly next to her. “Every time I close my eyes…” she drifts off and reaches out to play with her daughter's hair, rubbing her thumb and index finger back and forth over the end of her braid. Emily knows that she doesn’t have to tell him why she is hesitant to fall asleep. He’d been there in the aftermath of it all, he’d been her strength then too. She sighs and tilts her head to look up at him, “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” she repeats.

He kisses her forehead and pulls her even closer, “Then I won’t either,” he whispers against her skin, “I’ll stay up with you. We can pretend we’re in college again.” 

She laughs, but there’s no heart behind it. It’s not the laugh that he’d do just about anything to hear. The laugh that he loves just as much as he loves her.

“I hate to break it to you honey, but you weren’t any good at all-nighters back then,” she reaches for his hand and links their fingers together, twisting his wedding ring back and forth to stop herself from shredding her cuticles anymore than she already had, “And now you’re in your 40s.” 

He gasps with fake outrage and squeezes her hand, kissing the side of her neck to make her squirm, “I’m only 41. And you aren’t far off.”

“I’m 36 you jerk,” she says, her real laugh making itself known for a second, “When you were 36 you still claimed it was your ‘early’ 30s.” 

“I stand by it,” he replies, winking at her before he leans in for a kiss. They both enjoy the moment, revelling in it until reality sets in again, and their smiles fade. 

She sighs and looks back at Eleanor, “I keep thinking…he always blamed me for him not seeing his son,” she swallows thickly, “From the moment his ex found out about us she kept him from his kid and that became my fault,” she laughs bitterly, “Not his for cheating on his fiancee with someone more than 10 years younger than him,” she shakes her head, “But mine. For…believing his bullshit I guess.” 

“None of it was your fault, sweetheart.” 

“I know,” she says, squeezing his hand and lifting it to her lips so she can kiss his knuckles, “I knew that then, and boy do I know it now. But he blamed me for it. What if…he thinks coming after her, or even Jack, is suitable revenge.” 

He holds her tighter, briefly, it’s too tight, and she squeezes his hand to let him know. He doesn’t know what to say as he loosens his hold, “Em…” he chokes out, the thought of it almost too much to bear. 

“Sorry, fuck,” she sighs, shaking her head at herself, “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” her voice shakes and she feels the familiar burning in her throat, and she sobs, muffling it into her pillow so she doesn’t wake up Eleanor.

“Baby, please stop apologising,” he says, shifting so he is leaning over her. He presses his forehead to her temple, “You have nothing to be sorry for. And I will make sure nothing happens to you, or her, or Jack.” 

She heaves in a breath, “You can’t-”

“I can,” he cuts her off, “Ian Doyle won’t hurt any of you, ok?” 

Despite everything screaming at her that it was impossible, that he couldn’t make that kind of promise, she believes him.

___

It’s the longest two days of her life. 

She barely sleeps, and when she does she has nightmares. Her subconscious mixing memories, things she can never forget, with fears she can’t let go of. Aaron has to convince her to let Eleanor go to school and she reiterates to her teacher that it should only ever be her, Aaron or Haley who picks the little girl up. 

Aaron keeps his promise and works from home, barely leaving her side at all. She wonders if it should annoy her, and she’s sure in other circumstances it would, but she’s grateful for it. Grateful for him and the way he had loved her since they met.

She waits nervously for him to come home from picking up Eleanor from school. He was trying to convince Emily to leave the house that weekend, to go to the zoo with their daughter, but she was unsure if she wanted to, the thought of being somewhere where Ian could see her enough to set her on edge. She’s sure Aaron has spoken to Haley too because she’d called Emily that afternoon demanding a girl's night on Saturday to lament her break up. 

The front door opens and Eleanor bursts through it, running towards Emily as she wraps her arms tightly around her, “Momma!” 

“Hi sweet girl,” Emily says, bending down to hug her tightly, the ache in her chest easing slightly now her family was home safe, “How was school?”

“So good,” she exclaims, leaning back from her mother, “We learned about the stars!” 

“That is so cool baby,” Emily says enthusiastically and she looks at her husband as she stands back up. He looks relieved, like the weight that had been on his shoulders for the last few days had been lightened. “Sweetheart,” she says, looking down at Eleanor, “Why don’t you take your bag through to the dining room, and I’ll sort a snack for you in a minute ok?” 

Eleanor nods and does as she’s asked, and once she’s out of the room Emily looks at her husband, “Is everything ok?” 

“Grant called before I picked up Ellie,” he says, walking past her into the kitchen, “They got him.”

“Ian?” She asks, relief flooding through her as she leans against the kitchen counter. She scratches at the scar on her wrist absentmindedly. It had felt like a fresh injury over the last few days, aching like it hadn’t since she was still in hospital post-surgery. 

“Yeah,” He nods, pulling her into a hug as he continues to explain, “He went to see his son, Declan. The kid is 20 now, called the cops on him immediately.” 

She sighs as she pulls away, “It’s weird to think his son is now the age I was when I met Ian,” she breathes easily for the first time in a few days. “Any sign of Foyet?”

“No,” he shakes his head, kissing her cheek before he heads for the fridge to pour them some wine, “He’s smarter than Ian. It’s likely he was the mastermind behind it all. The FBI won’t stop looking until they get him,” he turns and hands her a glass of wine, looking her up and down before he carries on, unsure if he should even tell her the next part, “There was something else.” 

“Oh?” She says, leaning against the kitchen counter, smiling at him with amusement as he continues to stare at her, “Are you going to tell me what it is?” 

“Ian…he had a request when he was arrested. He was apparently very specific about it with the arresting officer.” 

Her smile slips from her face, and she swallows thickly as the first bit of peace she’d felt in days disappears as quickly as she’d felt it.

“What was the request?” She asks, sure that she already knows the answer. 

Aaron sighs, giving himself a moment before he replies, “He wants to see you.” 

-x-

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[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Yeeeeeeess

Nav: 👗🌼💌🦸‍♀️🥘🍁

And for a little treat:

Clone Boys: 👀

I have asked so much but I need to knooowwww

Take your time, Ily 🌙🔮

ahhh yessss thank you so much, Hex, for asking all of these wonderful questions. answers below the cut because this got away from me 😂😅

Nav:

👗 Describe their style

when they worked on Coruscant before joining the GAR, they 100% rocked the thrifted light academia aesthetic, but it never fully fit their personality.

on the run from the Empire, and just in everyday life, they are much more prone to utilitarian, functional garments in neutral tones. sleeveless tunic belted over utility pants, with steel-toed boots and their trusty backpack. they steal one of Hunter's old bandanas and tie it around their bicep; Hunter loves it. and of course once they settle on Pabu, they start wearing more tank tops and shorts, soft-bottom shoes, a shark-tooth necklace that Omega crafts.

used to have long hair, but cut it really short when they joined the GAR and just never grew it out again.

they also have a single tattoo, a complementary pair to one that Arien had, on their ribs: a deadly cactus flower native to Iridonia. (Arien's was a sketch of Umate, the mountain peak on Coruscant.)

🌼 Assign them an aesthetic

alright take all of the above and now consider: space grunge

💌 How would they react to a love letter?

sorry my first thought here is the fact that Hunter would write said love letter and now I've made myself squee

anyways. on topic. I think the circumstance would be something like, Hunter writes a letter for Nav and leaves it for them to find somewhere, so it's a surprise. like, at the bottom of their pack (because we all know how often Nav cleans that out... 👀). & then reading it they'd need to sit in case they swoon, the paper held in one hand while the other is clasped over their mouth to hide their smile. definitely blushes. depending on how sappy Hunter got while writing, Nav may or may not tear up.

& then immediately tackle Hunter into a giant hug and smother him with kisses.

🦸‍♀️ What would they dress as for Halloween?

Nav would totally talk Hunter into couples' costumes--and of course that means Omega's costume is also themed, which probably means everyone else's as well. the squad as bowling pins and Omega as a bowling ball?

but for one year, Hunter and Nav make sure that their costumes match each other's and only each other's. Hunter as a werewolf and Nav as a werewolf hunter 👀

🥘 Favorite food?

this depends. if we're talking like, most nostalgic, then it's definitely the beef stew and crusty bread that the matron of the orphanage made on a regular basis. a whole big vat of the stew and the huge ovens made the entire building always smell so good.

but now as an adult, their favorite is the salad that Shep taught them to make on Pabu. starfruit and berries, nuts, crumbly cheese, and a decadent oil-based dressing. filling, sweet, and savory all in one.

that, or Hunter's meat pies. Hunter totally learns that he loves to cook once they all settle down on Pabu.

🍁 Their favorite season and why?

alright hc time: Coruscant doesn't have seasons, & Pabu basically has 2: hot and hotter. Iridonia is probably the same, though it gets chilly at night. therefore, Rintonne is the one planet that Nav has been to relatively frequently enough to experience four seasons. their favorite is by far autumn, with spring coming in second. there's something about transitory periods, life in flux, that just Hits Different for Nav. spring is in second place because allergies lmao.

Clone boys:

👀 How do they look like? Give an overall description of them

ohohoho strap in, here we go

387th Battalion, 13th Sector Army

Commander Creed. he presents a very stern, disciplined facade that intimidates shinies and civvies alike, but in reality he's very soft and compassionate. it's what makes him such a strong leader. he's unafraid to voice his opinion when he believes his Jedi General is making a foolish or wrong move, but is humble enough to admit when he's wrong. well-trimmed beard and mustache, undercut with a mop of dark curls. there's a scar from an errant blaster bolt during commando training, that streaks down the left side of his face. he has a tattoo under his left pec that reads 'for the people' in blocky Basic letting--that is his creed. he has a second tattoo on his right hip of his battalion's mascot (pls don't ask me what this is, idk yet).

Captain Static, Shatter Company. earned his name because when he was a cadet, he always pretended to talk on the radios with sound effects (*cksh* come in, command, *cksh*). he's a little bit naive, but very loyal and values intelligence. he often volunteers his company for recon missions, having trained them specially to communicate effectively. he's clean-shaven, with a stud nose piercing and regulation haircut.

Captain Flare, Phoenix Company. loves, loves, loves flare guns and will pout (mostly in jest these days) if he doesn't get the chance to pop one off at least once during a campaign. he's loud and unapologetic, a little cocky, but he does genuinely mean well and respects the hell out of anyone who can outwit his twin, Seg. with a permanent five o'clock shadow, brilliant white teeth, and that one perfect curl that always rests so nicely on his forehead, he's hot and he kriffin' knows it.

Captain Seg, Flare's twin, commanding officer of Angel Company. Seg is a little bit more withdrawn and quiet than Flare, but no less quick-witted--and quick-tempered. he often waits for an opening in his enemy's forces rather than making an opening himself (he leaves that to Shatter & Phoenix Companies). this is both in terms of battle tactics and verbal sparring. often known for silently observing conversations or debates, and drops one-line zingers that leave the entire table slack-jawed and/or in uproarious laughter. he's the most "reg" looking of the captains, but don't let that fool you.

Captain Drifter, of Hollow Company. Drifter is an old grumpy man at heart, rather pessimistic, but can be charming and suave when the occasion arises. something of a social chameleon, often chosen for diplomatic missions alongside the General. he's sarcastic but genuine, a balance he learned early on how to maintain, and it's gotten him into trouble as much as out of it. he has ear piercings, a septum ring, and a huge geometric tattoo sleeve on his right leg; and sometimes lets his hair grow out to about shoulder length.

Bonus boys! Hotshot and Screwball, ARC troopers, who featured briefly in Second Chances. Hotshot has a buzzcut and goatee, vitiligo, a rough hand-drawn star tattoo beneath his left eye, and a scar across the bridge of his nose. Screwball has long hair that he keeps tied back in a low bun, and a scar along the right side of his face. both Hotshot and Screwball are pranksters (and don't get me started on when they have shore leave with Screwball's twin, Misfit), but very, very good at their jobs. they specialize in destabilizing the enemy from behind enemy lines, often using their chaotic impulses to their advantage.

anyways thanks again so much, Hex, for letting me ramble about my blorbos 💖💖

[rabbitcruiser]

National Brisket Day

Take the plunge and try your hand at making one of the more complicated but also most delicious cuts of beef, the ever-popular brisket.

The word primal has many meanings, but all of them come back to one meaning “first.” The word speaks of the beginnings of things, from our ancient lineage as human beings, to the animalistic force that lives within each of us. Appropriate to our thinking, then is the meaning of primal when applied to cuts of meat.

The primal cuts are those that are severed from the carcass first before the smaller and less important cuts are removed. The brisket is among these cuts, and while it requires a little know-how to make it properly, when properly made it is nothing less than the choicest of the primal cuts. National Brisket Day encourages you to explore this cut and everything it has to offer.

History of National Brisket Day

Some things take time, and a good brisket is one of these. Brisket is a popular cut of meat to serve as part of any family affair, and it’s long cooking time ensures that it is a big hit when those who know how to prepare it. Brisket is a tricky meat in that it comes from the animal tough, but if you find a particularly well-marbled piece and cook it correctly, it will become fork soft and simply peel apart, making it the tenderest of tender meats. Of course, there are hundreds of variations on how to prepare brisket, including the use of various hardwoods in the grilling process to ensure a nice smoky flavor. Some people marinate them, some don’t, and many like to serve it with a sauce.

The history of brisket dates back to ancient history – practically ever since humans reared cattle. People would sacrifice their animals on special occasions and eat every part of the animal, including the brisket cut.

Texas BBQ brisket is one of the most popular ways to prepare it. Here, chefs marinate the meat for between 24 and 48 and cook it in a unique wood or charcoal-fired BBQ oven. Careless cooking often resulted in tough meat, so people developed techniques to get the most out of the cut. After all, if you could make brisket taste good, it was a great way to get delicious and cheap meat.

In the old days, you couldn’t store meat in a refrigerator. The technology simply didn’t exist. After 48 hours following the death of the animal, the carcass would begin to turn, meaning that the butcher had to cook and eat it fast.

Friday evenings, therefore, became the traditional day on which people would cook up the remaining cuts of meat uneaten and unsold throughout the week. People found that barbecuing meat and adding marinades and sauces provided the best flavor. And so the rationale for holding National Brisket Day celebrations was born.

National Brisket Day is also heavily associated with smoked meats – not just brisket. Again, butchers had to use smoking to preserve meat so that it wouldn’t go off. For that reason, they took cuts of meat, such as rib-eye or tenderloin, and put them in smoke sheds. This process killed off all the bacteria and created compounds that would inhibit the growth of harmful bugs in the future.

How to celebrate National Brisket Day

Well, it’s pretty much inarguable that the best way to celebrate National Brisket Day is to have yourself a deliciously prepared brisket.

So besides cooking a hearty brisket meal, what else can you do to celebrate brisket day?

Well, one idea is to go for a meal out at a local restaurant that still serves beef brisket in the traditional style. Ideally, you’re looking for an establishment that takes the cheaper cuts of meat and then prepares them in such a way that makes them taste far more expensive than they actually are. By going to a local restaurant along with your friends and family, you’re showing your support for everyone involved in the supply chain, from the restaurant owner to the cattle rancher.

Many restaurants make a point of serving brisket. They want to prove that it is possible to make even the cheapest cuts of beef taste amazing. They see it as a challenge. Some, for instance, use special tenderizing techniques and serve it rare. Others rely on slow cooking methods. The great thing National Brisket Day is that there are so many recipe options. Barbecued brisket is a classic, but today’s chefs are so inventive, you’re now spoiled for choice for how they prepare your meat.

National Brisket Day is also an opportunity to highlight the environmental costs of food waste. As people, we often throw away a substantial proportion of the food that we buy. The tradition of eating brisket, however, reminds us of the fact that food was a scarce commodity in the past, and that it is important to make use of every part of the animal. Throwing away food is both costly and damaging to the natural world.

So there you have it: some simple ways to celebrate National Brisket Day. What will you do?

Source

[toomanystars-jpg]

THIS IS A JOKE DON"T TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY YOU FREAKS

TW: jerma, cannabalism, murder

ok so i wrote a short fiction piece about jerma being a cannibal and i got some responses asking me to post it, so here we are. I would love nothing more than to laugh along with you all about how ridiculous this concept is, especially since he's made bits about it before. i'll tell you something super important: JERMA IS NOT A CANNIBAL AND THIS IS FICTION. THIS IS NOT REAL.

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The Confession of A Cannibal

Hello. My name is Jeremy. I’m a psycho, or that’s what people would call me if they read this. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I ordered exotic meat online. I didn’t know what it was, but it tasted like nothing I had ever had before. It was like chicken, but richer in flavour. The warmth as I tore the meat from the ribs settled in my stomach as any warm meat would. It felt like I was always meant to consume this meat of unknown origin. I got hooked on it; it was amazing. I knew I needed more. The meat became my personal heroin; making me suffer from intense withdrawals that shook me, if not physically, certainly mentally. I couldn’t think straight without it. I never knew food cravings could be like this. Truly debilitating. In a moment of weakness I ordered more meat from the site. I wanted to confirm what I had been eating, to know what had its claws around my neck; and this time it was a solely human feature: an arm. 

The package came in, and low and behold, the arm had a hand, ligaments, tendons, bones, and joints; everything but skin. It was slimy, and hard to hold. The only thing I could think of was how good it would taste fresh out of the oven. I cut off the hand; it crunched under the pressure of my cleaver. The sharpness of the blade made the fileting easy. The blade glided across the bones, the meat slapped the bottom of my empty bowl. I seasoned the meat and stuck it in the oven. I was so excited that I sat on the floor in front of the oven while it cooked. The cold hardwood flooring under my palms and feet was not enough for me to come to my senses and forget the amazing taste of human meat. I loved it with all my heart, more than I had ever loved anything before. When it was thoroughly cooked, I cut the cooked bicep into sizable chunks and laid it out over rice. I poured the juices over it too. I stored the rest in containers and placed them in a stack in my nearly empty fridge. The meat was soft and juicy. The rice soaked in the oily juice was heavenly; what they would’ve served in heaven if I had anything to say about it. I was so enthralled that I invited a friend over to share it with me.

My friend arrived after a long day of work, and he was starving. I dumped some rice down onto the plate, gathered extra pieces of the arm that I hadn’t eaten, poured on the juices, and gave it to my friend. After that, I don’t remember anything. I must have black out, because everything is blank. The next thing I remember is kneeling over my dead friend, my pants soaked with his blood. There was a bullet hole in his forehead, and a pistol next to me. Then I had a brilliant thought: Human meat was good, but what could be better than the freshest it could possibly be?

I grabbed my friend and carried him back into the kitchen. His dead weight made me realize just how much delicious muscle my friend had on him. I struggled to lift him up onto the counter, his limp body making him increasingly harder to maneuver. I cut off his clothes, but kept his underwear on. I wasn’t about to rid him of his dignity, nor was I quite ready for the most exotic meat the human body had to offer. I cut off his legs first. Blood got everywhere. It spewed and sprayed from his stumps, filling the air with the smell of blood. It covered my floor, which infuriated me. His arms went next. Again, blood covered the counter and the floor, as his limp arms fell from his torso. I wanted his ribs. I grabbed a garbage bag and cut him open. I began dumping out organs until nothing remained but his empty torso. I don’t know why, but I started salivating. I cut below the ribs and took his head off. I threw the excess in the bag. I cut off his hands and feet, I skinned all the parts, I took the meat off the bones. It took three garbage bags, but all evidence of him was in garbage bags, ready for the garbage truck to take away my friend’s remains. I cut up all the pieces, seasoned the meat thoroughly, shoved most of it in my freezer, and put some in the oven. I cleaned up the blood while it cooked. Wonderfully delicious smells of my friend’s body filling my small home, and I wish it could’ve stayed in my nose forever.  By the time the meat was done cooking, my living room and kitchen was spotless. The smell was now mixed with chemicals, which ruined my appetite. There was nothing that could’ve meant he was here, other than the mountain of digital evidence against me. I’m scrawling this while in bed with a full stomach. I know people are going to be looking for him, but I have no regrets. I feel no remorse. He was delicious.

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hope you enjoyed my attempt at writing. if you're at all interested, i wrote this for school and i just wanted to write about jerma, and i remembered the "human meat in the fridge" meme. I'm honestly expecting some hate, because this is truly deranged. I read it out to my roommates and one of them was genuinely concerned for me. I feel like this should go unsaid, i am not a cannibal, i have though watched a lot of true crime so i know lots about the mindset of criminals, especially murderers (moidewers). i hope you have a wonderful day, stay safe, and you're welcome for making the most deranged thing you've read all day.