#something is cooking but it's still in the pot and not ready to be served

[i-mybrunettelady]

I am suffering from Needy Bitch Disease with a comorbidity of I Don't Want to Annoy People w/ OCs disorder

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello again everyone! Since the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au won the continuation poll, here's part 2!

NOTE: Part 1 can be found here!

EDIT: Part 3 can be found here!

As a quick recap of this au, during the season 4 finale Merlin was caught by Morgana while trying to plant the burning doll curse that would temporarily lock away her powers, and they have a magic battle that ends with both Morgana and her army slain. Merlin thought that no one saw what happened, but Camelot's lords who serve on the council secretly saw everything. So, when Arthur storms Camelot, ready to take back his throne, he's met with the news that Morgana's already dead and a new sorcerer has claimed the throne of Camelot through the right of conquest, and the lords have unanimously agreed to make this powerful sorcerer king in order to appease him. To everyone's shock, Geoffrey then puts the crown of Camelot on Merlin's head, and Merlin promptly passes out.

And now, onto the new stuff!

When Merlin finally woke up, he jolted awake with a start, frightened by what must have been a terrible nightmare! And truly, it was one of the most horrifying scenarios Merlin's sleeping mind had ever conjured to torture himself with: everyone finding out about his magic, Arthur thinking that Merlin betrayed him, and unintentionally stealing Arthur's kingship!

If the idea wasn't so frightening, Merlin would almost laugh at the absurdity of it: Merlin, king of Camelot! What nonsense! Merlin was Emrys, the other side of the coin to the king; he was certainly never meant to be king himself.

Still, the idea gave Merlin a slight chuckle as he climbed out of his bed and changed into his usual clothes, the soft light of the dawn flittering in through his window. Thank every god out there that his outfit didn't involve a crown!

After he finished tying his neckerchief and pulling on his boots, Merlin opened the door into the main area of Gaius's chambers, ready to eat a quick breakfast with Gaius before collecting Arthur's breakfast and starting his work for the day.

Stepping out into the main chamber, he couldn't find Gaius anywhere, but that wasn't too unusual, given how busy Gaius could be with sudden injuries or illnesses popping up in the lower town at all hours of the night. Humming a bit to himself, Merlin began fixing himself a small bowl of porridge in the chamber's cooking pot, making sure to leave an extra portion for Gaius whenever he returned from his duties.

Merlin ate his breakfast quickly, enjoying the birdsong outside and the beautiful sunrise. Yes, this was exactly what he needed to wash away the awful ideas that his nightmare had conjured up.

After cleaning up their dining table, Merlin made his way towards the door, ready go about his day and do his job as a manservant to moderately acceptable standards! Besides, on the heels of Morgana's invasion, Arthur would need a supportive friend far more than a manservant today.

As Merlin opened the door from Gaius's chambers, however, something was conspicuously different. Namely, the fact that there were two armed guards standing on either side of the door, standing with their backs to the door.

The two guards stiffened and stood at attention as soon as he opened the door, uncrossing their polearms so that they would not be blocking his path as he left Gaius's chambers. Merlin froze at the sight of the guards, staring at their backs. What... what was going on?

"Is... is everything alright? What's this about?"

Was it just him, or did the two guards somehow stiffen up even more at Merlin's words?

After a tense beat of silence, one of the guards cleared his throat and replied, "We were assigned to stand guard over these chambers."

Merlin's brows furrowed with confusion for a moment before he figured out what must have happened, realization dawning on his face.

"Oh, I see! Arthur must have increased security around the castle since Morgana's latest attack. I'm not sure why he considers the physician's quarters to be a potential target, but I'll ask him about it later. Well, I'd better get going or else I'll be late to wake the prat up. Say hello to Gaius for me when he gets back!"

The guards looks confused at his words and opened their mouths to call something out to Merlin, but Merlin was already down the stairs and halfway down the hall before either of them could blink.

Merlin got a lot more strange stares than usual today as he made his way towards the kitchens, with many people outright stopping to gawk at him as he passed. Did he have something odd stuck to his hair or something?

Merlin shrugged off the strange stares for now. He'd have time to look in a mirror and figure out what was so odd about how he looked later, after Arthur had eaten and gotten dressed.

Merlin was still a few minutes away from the kitchens when a caped figure emerged from a servant's passageway and barreled into him, drawing him into a sudden hug. Instinctively, Merlin tensed up at the perceived attack, but he quickly relaxed at the familiar smell of ale and apples that surrounded his laughing "attacker".

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you, Merls!"

Merlin sighed with both relief at seeing his friend in one piece and in high spirits, but also is exasperation.

"Gwaine, I'm very glad to see you again, but what are you doing here? You just spent a week in captivity under Morgana, you're supposed to be resting and recovering, not ambushing unsuspecting servants!"

Gwaine pulled back at Merlin's words, wearing a look of confusion as he studied Merlin's face.

"Ah, but I'm not ambushing a servant, am I?"

"Yes, yes, you're ambushing your friend, since friendship gives you more rights to pull stunts like this and give me more reason to worry over your health."

At that, Gwaine's face pulled into an outright frown, a rare sight to see on the perpetually-grinning knight. Merlin shifted around a bit nervously, unsure of what exactly was happening. Finally, Gwaine spoke again, this time very slowly and gently, as if he was trying to calm down a spooked horse.

"Merlin, what do you remember from yesterday? What was the last thing you remember before falling asleep?"

This time, it was Merlin's turn to frown in confusion at Gwaine's odd questions. What did any of that matter?

"Well, I suppose the last thing I remember was... was storming into the throne room with Arthur and Gwen and being informed of Morgana's death anything after that... I don't quite recall."

He must have hit his head or something after that point, because everything after that was what happened in his nightmare, and there was no way any of that was real. Right?

Merlin watched as Gwaine's frown pulled into a strained smile, his confusion only growing. What was Gwaine so nervous about?

"Well, Merls," Gwaine began, slinging an arm around Merlin's shoulders as he started to lead Merlin away from the kitchens, "a lot happened in between then and now, including some great news!"

Gwaine turned to face Merlin, his smile genuine and mischievous this time, and Merlin knew that grin. That was the grin Gwaine wore right before he was about to get himself into some trouble for a noble cause but would hide it under the guise of "fun".

Merlin sighed deeply, not awake enough to deal Gwaine's antics, even if they was coming from a good place.

"Alright, what's this news of yours?"

If it was possible, Gwaine's mischievous grin grew wider.

"For starters, I got a promotion!"

Merlin stopped in his tracks with shock, halting their walk to... wherever Gwaine was leading him.

"A promotion?! How? Why? What's your new title? Will you be leading other knights?"

Gwaine just shook his head, his hair whipping around and smile still present on his face. He started leading Merlin again as he answered Merlin's questions.

"I know, I had hardly believe it myself! But I took some initiative when it really mattered, and I landed myself this new job! It's not really a leadership role, but I might be leading some knights, and probably some guards too!"

Gwaine finally started to slow their march down as they reached what Merlin assumed was their destination: the doors to the main throne room, where Arthur took his audiences.

As Gwaine stopped before the doors, he turned to look at Merlin again, his smile still bright, but his eyes, Merlin noticed, growing strained again, like there was something greatly troubling him.

"You still haven't told me what this new job actually is though."

This time, Gwaine's smile faltered a bit, and Merlin knew at once that this new job was what was causing Gwaine so much inner turmoil. What job could possibly give Gwaine of all people so much stress?

"Ah, silly me, how could I forget! You'll want to hold onto something before I tell you this, because this will blow you away my friend! I got promoted..."

Gwaine leaned in close, almost like he was about to share a secret with Merlin. Merlin leaned in as well, curious about what position Gwaine's surprising promotion had been to.

"to the king's official bodyguard!" Gwaine revealed in a stage whisper, playing the moment up for dramatic effect in a very Gwaine-like manner.

Merlin jerked backwards in surprise, startled by such unexpected news, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

Arthur did seem to be stepping up security in the aftermath of Morgana's latest invasion, so it made sense for him to appoint a loyal and trusted knight to look after Arthur's own safety.

Merlin was strangely pleased with Arthur's decision on this. Arthur was finally prioritizing his own safety, and he had picked a great knight for the job! This might make Merlin's own secret job of protecting Arthur much easier! Gwaine would certainly take any of Merlin's warnings of danger to Arthur seriously, and he trusted Merlin enough that he wouldn't question where Merlin got any of his information.

Merlin smiled back at his friend, happy about both this new opportunity for his friend and about the changes it would bring. Yes, this was great!

"That's amazing Gwaine! Do you want to stop by the tavern tonight to celebrate?"

Gwaine laughed a bit at that, still looking oddly tense. For some unknown reason, apprehension started pooling in Merlin's stomach, telling him that something wasn't right here. No, there was something else going on.

"Thanks for the offer mate, but I'm afraid that it wouldn't be a good look for me to be seen drinking on my first night on the job. Besides, I have a feeling that you'll be a little busy this evening too."

Merlin's confusion only grew with each passing second.

"What do you mean by that?"

Gwaine didn't answer him, only giving Merlin a small, almost sad smile. It looked disturbingly out of place on the boisterous Gwaine, ratchetting Merlin's confusion and dread up even further.

Without another word, Gwaine turned and opened the doors to the throne room, revealing the entire council of lords congregated within, giving Merlin rather violent flashbacks to his nightmare.

No, no, nothing as disastrous as Merlin being publicly announced as a sorcerer and then getting crowned king in front of Arthur and Gwen could ever happen in real life. It was simply too absurd.

Merlin watched, frozen at the threshold of the room, as the lords' heads all turned towards the door at the sound of it swinging open. To Merlin's rising dread, they all rose from their seats at the sight of him.

No no no no....

Merlin frantically looked around, hoping to all of the gods of the Old Religion that Arthur was somewhere nearby, because the council only rose for the entrance of the king...

Merlin turned around, hoping to find Arthur standing around somewhere, anywhere, as dread began closing its claws around his heart, which was beating at the rating that Merlin would be concerned about if he could process anything other than his own all-consuming terror at that moment.

Because it wasn't a nightmare, was it? No, that was real. His worst fears had come to life in the most horrifying way possible, and he was powerless to stop it now.

If the lords of the council noticed Merlin's frantic terror, they didn't acknowledge it. Instead, apparently, they decided to only confirm Merlin's deepest fears. After a tense moment of utter silence in the room, broken only by Merlin's jagged breathing, Geoffrey finally stepped forward.

"Ah, welcome Your Majesty! I hope you're feeling better now after you've rested and recovered from your battle against Morgana. There is much to discuss concerning these first crucial days of your reign, including your public coronation, having all knights who are willing to renounce the Pendragon line swear their fealty to you, and determining the fates of those who already refuse to accept your rule."

For what felt like an eternity, Merlin simply stood there, his mind refusing to cooperate or even process what he was being told. He couldn't move a single muscle in his body, paralyzed by horror. He was only snapped out of his fugue state by Gwaine taking ahold of his arm and guiding him towards the table.

Inhaling sharply as he was pushed by Gwaine closer to the lords, he finally processed what Geoffrey had told him. Oh gods, a coronation?! So all of Arthur's kingdom could see how he had stolen Arthur's throne?! Forcing knights to turn their backs on Arthur and renounce their loyalty to him?! This was madness and, not to mention, the exact opposite of what Merlin wanted!

And what was that about punishing people for refusing to accept him as king? Hell, Merlin should reward the dissenters if anything, since they were apparently the only ones who still had any good sense left in this kingdom! Who in their right mind would immediately accept Merlin as their king anyway?!

Right, Merlin thought as his eyes wandered over the faces of the lords, spineless cowards with no loyalty who would turn their backs on their true king to save their own hides, that's who.

Well, the applied to the lords at least, but that still didn't explain what Gwaine was doing here, by Merlin's side, when he should be with Arthur and the other knights!

... Where were Arthur and the other knights?

A jolt of fear once again shot through Merlin, this time alongside guilt. Where was Arthur? What had happened to him? The council had foolishly stripped him of his title, and then what?

Clearing his dry throat, Merlin finally responded, "Geoffrey, what happened after I lost consciousness yesterday? Where is Arthur?"

After Merlin was finished speaking, the lords started shifting around nervously, which began to set of warning bells in Merlin's mind.

Something had happened after he fainted yesterday. Something that involved Arthur.

"Well, Your Majesty, following your loss of consciousness yesterday, the former King Arthur lost his temper and began yelling, shouting everything from accusing us of lies and treason to cursing out the sacred laws of the land. He then ran throughout the castle and began calling upon his knights for aid, explaining the situation to them in crude terms and demanding that they take back the crown from you by force."

Merlin grimaced at Geoffrey's monotone explanation, horrific visions of Arthur calling for his execution as a sorcerer and traitor running through his mind.

"Many of Arthur's knights rallied to his cause, but there were some who were hesitant to turn their blades against you, no doubt recognizing your power and your true claim to the throne. It was from that group that your loyal Sir Gwaine arose, leading a small group of knights and guards in a surprise attack that concluded with the former king and his knights locked in the dungeon cells, awaiting your judgement."

Merlin eyes flew wide at Geoffrey's words, his heading whipping around to meet Gwaine's gaze. Gwaine had betrayed Arthur in such a terrible way? For him?

In response to Merlin's horrified stare, Gwaine simply gave him his most innocent smile, as if nothing was wrong at all and Merlin's world wasn't crumbling around him.

No, this wasn't happening. Merlin had to fix this, and he had to fix it now.

"Look, Geoffrey, I am honored that you and the other lords feel so strongly that I am supposed to be Camelot's king, but that is not meant to be. I was never meant to rule over anything. This is Arthur's kingdom, and I will not be the one to take it from him."

All of the lords around the table look utterly confused, as if Merlin was speaking a completely different language. That was expected, Merlin supposed, if they had never seen anyone willingly give up power. Gwaine, however, just looked amused, like he knew that this was exactly what would happen.

"While that is a most gracious sentiment Your Majesty, I'm afraid that it isn't that simple."

Merlin groaned at Geoffrey's words, bemoaning the fact that the world could never let anything in his life be simple.

"Shouldn't it be?! I'm apparently the king now, so I order you to release Arthur and the knights from the dungeons and to give Arthur his kingship back!"

This time, it was Geoffrey's turn to sigh deeply, as the old man pulled a rather hefty- and dusty- scroll from his bag.

"This," Geoffrey began as he unrolled the yellowed parchment, "is Bruta's code, written by the Great King himself. This set of laws are the foundation on which all of the five kingdoms are governed, and Camelot is no exception. All kings of this Isle, no matter how powerful, are subject to these laws, lest the entire realm fall into anarchy."

Merlin was valiantly holding back the urge to bash his head into the council table. Why couldn't he clear this situation up as painlessly as possible?!

"The code addresses many subjects, and both the right of conquest and the rules of succession are outlined within. I'm terribly sorry Your Majesty, but the code clearly states that when a king who is not of royal blood ascends to the throne through the right of conquest, the previous royal family loses any and all claim to the throne, alongside their lands and wealth, essentially leaving them with no titles or claim to nobility at all. This measure was originally put in place to ban the defeated family from endlessly challenging the victor of the conquest in a bid to regain their former throne and wasting the new ruler's precious time."

Merlin's heart dropped even more at Geoffrey's words. Great, he had not only stolen Arthur's kingdom, but he had also stolen everything Arthur owned! Gods, what did Arthur hate Merlin more for at the moment, being a secret powerful sorcerer ever since they met or inadvertently stripping him of his title, lands, and all his possessions?

"I still don't see why this would forbid me from freely giving Arthur the throne back."

"Your Majesty, the former king is no longer a noble, as the Pendragon line is no longer recognized as a noble house. As such, Arthur is now, by law, a peasant, and it is against Bruta's code for a ruler to cede their throne to anyone but a noble for any period of time."

Merlin bit back a frustrated scream. Why, why?! Why couldn't he just make Arthur a noble again and be done with this farce and-

Wait a minute.

There was a way to make Arthur a noble.

Oh no, Arthur was going to hate this. But, Merlin steeled himself, this was the only way to make things right.

And that's all for now! I had a lot of fun making Gwaine the ultimate "ride or die" bestie for Merlin in this situation lol! I'll definitely be doing a part three of this au soon to resolve this cliffhanger!

Please let me know what you all thought of this continuation!

A huge thank you to everyone who supported my last au post and asked for this continuation! I'll try to tag you all here, my apologies if I missed anyone!

@cookie-player , @miyriu , @nebulousconstellationwriter , @insane-multifandom-brainrot , @elementalpirate4 ,

@tidalwavesandthunderstorms , @gaiussleechtank , @arrowlovesdragons , @lordmushroomkat , @bucketheadpunk14 ,

@retro-wallflower , @ryeallytired , @verxen , @mind-of-a-crow , @aostrek-236 ,

@thedragonkinproject , @orliththedragon , @theroundbartable , @my-own-quiet-corner , @tireddruid ,

@coffee-shop-gay , @sable-nakahara , @deadhotpocket , @bennedict , @samwinjester ,

@linotheghost , @aerismoon , @merthurogies , @ahumoki0 , @chairwiththreelegs ,

@achillesuwu , @pancakesandpigs , @the-king-and-the-druidess , @sugar-coated-prat-dragon , @isaidno ,

@justaz , @auldsusie

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

EDIT: A question for those of you I'm tagging, I'm not sure if this is a tumblr issue or if I'm screwing something up on my end, but after the first few tagged blogs, it shows up on my screen like the tags are just plain text and not linked to anything. So, for those of you that are tagged, can you confirm that you're getting a notification when I tag you? I want to make sure everyone who requested a continuation knows when it's posted!

2nd EDIT: I've tried to fix the tag problem, I'm very sorry if you already saw this post and then got a notification!

[pullthehilt]

Reader is Yuu with an implied family with siblings. Not re-read or edited.

One day you realise that there is just a bit too much food on the table. It takes eating with the others to truly notice, but it starts with Grim complaining.

"We've been eating the same thing for days now!" And you laugh because it's true. After eating it fresh the first day, you tend to pack up and store the rest equally in the fridge and freezer because, yes, it's a lot. Dishes that are soups, or meals that are cooked in the larger pots and pans. Food that is to be served with rice on the side, portions that are bigger than your face. That isn't to say that you had a lot of thaumarks on you as you're just good at making bulk purchases worth it.

Everyone laughs at Grims moping, remarking of how he should be greatful you're feeding him at all. The banter is great.

But you're picking at your packed lunch now.

Why do you cook so much? Why do you reach for the bigger pots and pans? Why are your portions always for more than one?

From the fog of your mind, you see... your kitchen. Or you think it's your kitchen. It's not the kitchen back at Ramshackle, but the one from before Ramshackle. You're bustling around the counter, chatting to a faceless figure by the table, and reaching for seasonings without even looking. You're opening cabinets and finding what you need easily and asking the figure to make some rice to accompany whatever is in that pot. There's the squeals of children and hearty laughter from the other room. And hands, there's a hand at the small of your back and you think it's a motherly touch because how else can you describe the gentle way they press you to the side of their body.

For the next few days you can't eat properly. There's weight at your gut that substitutes for food and you don't make anything more. When your friends come over to invade the living room of Ramshackle, you don't have much snacks to offer them.

Peering into the fridge only reveals the stacks of containers of food you were eating days prior. You're mulling about maybe something you can make for them when,

"Whoa, talk about excess. Grim wasn't kidding." Ace's voice is right behind you.

"Ugh, sorry guys. i don't think I have anything proper to really feed you guys--"

"Is that some sort of egg salad?" Deuce's hand slithers forward to grab at one of the containters. "You have bread?" Nodding you gesture to the other cabinet. "Then I'll snack on this-- Er, if you wouldn't mind."

Epel peers from the doorway. "You don't happen to haf' some meat in 'er do ya?" Your fingers linger, before meekly pulling out a corrisponding tupperware.

"It's a bit stiff though, Epel."

"Hah, I'll jus' throw it on tha' stove or somthing. If it's still tough, I dun' care. Sometimes just gotta eat the greasy foods." He takes the tupperware and slaps it into a pan to heat it up. The aroma of sizzling meat is quick to attract both Sebek and Jack who add to the noise of chatter amongst the others, the former mostly.

You find yourself to the side, watching as they scour through your leftovers, opening and nodding at the meals inside before choosing which to heat up. And it's loud, but not grating. They're navigating through your space with expertice, slipping past each other and peering into cabinets. Jack's making rice and Sebek is counting the plates (whilst also making sounds whenever he sees a chip in the odd one or two). Over the stove Epel and Ace are jerking their hands into the pan, nipping their fingers to the corner pieces of the meat to just 'check if it's ready to eat'. Gathering the spoons and forks, Deuce nibbles on a piece of his egg salad sandwich before disappearing in the living area where everyone is setting up.

The dinner table has been set. You don't feel entirely there, floating to a cushion on the floor as your left overs are bought over to the table plate-by-plate. Everyone sits around you, Grim settled into your lap as he nibbles on a piece of fried fish, and they're passing the dishes around.

You've eaten these things before but you've always eaten them with Grim or alone when Grim takes his naps early. Instead of one set of cutlery scraping at porcelain, there's multiple sets-- a symphony playing to their hunger as they gather more to pile onto their plates.

[solxamber]

I'm not sure how many of those Holiday Event asks you've got up to this point.. yet it's still worth giving it a try..! ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )

Could you do Diasomnia with prompt no. 2 genre comedy, maybe some fluff?

[I can't stop imaging: Malleus acidentally knocking over the flour causing him to be wholly covered in it XD]

If you're gotten many reguest for the Holiday Event, you don't have to do this one ❤ Thank you in advance!

Great Kitchen Rescue || Silver

For the Holiday Event! || Theme: Cooking/Baking together ; Genre: Comedy with Fluff

When Lilia announced he’d be making dinner, your survival instincts kicked in.

“Lilia, why don’t Silver and I take over tonight? You’ve been working so hard recently,” you said, voice dripping with a desperation you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Lilia looked at you suspiciously, holding a jar of something pink and faintly glowing. “Are you sure? I had a very special recipe planned.”

“That’s what we’re afraid of,” you muttered under your breath before grabbing Silver and marching into the kitchen.

The plan was simple: you’d cook, and Silver would handle anything that needed minimal effort. You assigned him the stew. Stirring couldn’t go wrong, right?

Wrong.

You were just rinsing the rice when you heard a suspicious “thud.” Spinning around, you found Silver listing dangerously over the pot, eyes half-closed.

“Silver! Are you falling asleep?!” you shrieked, lunging across the kitchen to grab him.

“Mm… no…” he mumbled, head bobbing dangerously closer to the bubbling stew.

“Yes, you are! Get up before you become the main course!” You yanked him upright with a strength you didn’t know you had.

Silver blinked at you, a lazy smile on his face. “You’re really good at catching people, you know that?”

“Stop flirting and stay conscious!”

You wedged him between the counter and the fridge for support, and he obediently leaned back, eyes drooping again. You gave up. Fine. You’d cook everything yourself if it meant saving everyone from accidental cannibalism.

After a heroic struggle, the meal was finally ready. You carried the dishes to the dining room with Silver trailing behind, yawning like he’d just run a marathon.

Malleus took a bite of the stew and gave a thoughtful nod. “This is... remarkable. Thank you for sparing us from culinary experiments.”

Lilia looked deeply offended. “My cooking isn’t that bad!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Last week you made ‘salmon surprise.’ The surprise was that it was purple.”

Lilia waved a dismissive hand. “That’s creativity.”

Silver, now fully awake after eating, leaned over and whispered, “You really did save us all. Especially me. Thanks.”

You glanced at him, thinking about how close you’d come to serving up a “Silver stew” special. “Anytime. Just promise me you’ll never cook unsupervised again.”

Lilia stood suddenly, clapping his hands. “This inspires me to bake dessert!”

You and Silver exchanged a look of pure horror.

“NO!” you, Silver, Sebek, and Malleus shouted in unison, with Sebek clutching his bowl protectively like his life depended on it.

Lilia just laughed. “Haha! You're all no fun!”

Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You stare through the window as hammering echoes through the glass. Despite the muffling of the barrier between you, it’s loud enough to put you on edge. Or maybe that’s because of the man calmly bringing the iron down on the nails. 

As if he can sense you, he looks up, his dark hair flopping back. You quickly spin away. You have to be going stir crazy. Bucky was just concerned. A lot of people come up this way and get freaked out by the wilderness. You used to when you visited as a child. 

You go back to the kitchen and take out the ingredients for your grandma’s classic turkey stew. It’s always a comfort as the temperature starts to drop. Still, it’s never as good as she made it. One day, you might figure out the secret. 

Cooking is a good distraction. There isn’t much to do up here. Often, you enjoy that facet of your existence. You work then disconnect and just do your own thing. Now you can’t help but feel the desolation. 

Thunk, thunk, thunk. The hammering continues. You put the turkey into roast. It’s always better to season and cook it first then shred it up for the stew. You set the broth to simmer with the chunked veggies and pace the kitchen as you wait for it all to come together. 

You use a fork to pick the meat of the turkey legs and dump it all in the boiling pot. Another hour to meld together and it’ll be ready to serve. The longer you let it, the better. It’s always best the day after. 

The silence doesn’t hit you until you hear the back door. The smell of pine follows Bucky inside. You put your attention to the pot and stir it. 

He sniffs and sighs loudly as he enters. “Ah, smells delicious. Chicken?” 

“Turkey,” you correct him as he twists on the faucet and squirts soap into his hands. He lathers up and looks at you. “It’s funny. Back in my day, not to sound like a crotchety old geezer, women cooked. They had recipe cards on the counter. These days, half the girls I talk to can only use some app to order pizza that tastes like ketchup on cardboard.” 

“Oh, yeah? I kinda miss fast food,” you say dully. 

“Huh. ‘Cause I miss the home cooking. It’s just... simpler.” He shuts off the tap and shifts closer, drying his hand on the dishcloth as he looms. “If it hadn’t all gone to shit, I probably woulda found a good woman. Settled down, lived the good life.” 

“Right,” you nod awkwardly and set the spoon down.  

He clicks his tongue and turns, putting his hand on the counter as he leans on one foot. His other hand goes to his hip. “But then I wouldn’t be here.” 

“Fair,” you say, distancing yourself as you step around him to get to the fridge. “I got some cider left over? Want some? It’s mulled. Julian down by the Rocks makes it--” 

“Think I’m good,” he says. 

You put the large glass jug on the counter and open the cupboard. Bucky catches it and shoves it closed with a snap. You face him in surprise. He’s strong. You know that but feeling it is something else. 

“Sorry, I... I’m in your way?” You wonder. 

“No, you’re right where you should be,” he says. 

You try not to lean away from him. Your heart is racing. You swallow and peer over at the dimming window. 

“I could help you cover up the lumber before--” 

“Already did that,” he interjects. “You know, I think I’m where I need to be too,” he edges closer. “Think after everything, I did find that good woman.” 

You blink, speechless. You can barely think above the tempo behind your ears. 

“I hear it.” He puts his fist to his chest and knocks on it. “I know you feel it too.” He stills his hand and holds it over his heart. “I was pissed when Sam brought me up here. Dropped me off like some stray dog. The longer I’m here, the more I realise he did me a favour. He didn’t dump me on you...” you wince as he pulls his hand away from his chest and opens it to cradle your face, “he gave me you.” 

“Bucky,” you latch onto his wrist but can’t move it. “I think we need some space. Don’t you?” 

“No,” he says flatly. 

“You spend too much time in the same proximity, and it starts to get weird--” 

“No,” he repeats. “I’m right. It’s perfect. You’re strong, you cook, you’re handy, not afraid to get a little dirty,” he slides his hand down to cup your chin. You flinch but can’t pull away. “And you got a nice ass.” 

“Bucky,” you breath and gently shove his chest. “I’m saying to you that you’re wrong. I’m flattered and all but no.” You push harder as he squeezes tighter. You whimper, “ow, let me go. I’m calling Sam-” 

“Shh,” his other hand swoops up to back of your skull. He lurches you closer, bringing you to your nose as he snarls down at you. “You’re not calling anyone.” 

“Bucky--” 

“It’s the way you say my name,” he growls. 

“Please, you’re hurting me--” 

He hushes you again as his thumb rubs behind your jaw. He turns you so your penned in against the counter. You splay your fingers across his chest, dragging them down to his stomach as you push on him. He stands unmoving. 

“Let go--” 

“You. Let go,” he insists calmly. “You built this wall around you. Let it down,” he drops his hand from your head and lets it trail down your back, “let me in.” 

“No, I’m telling you.” You squirm against him. “Stop this, right now.” 

“I know you want me. I found that toy. The little flower, hm?” He tickles along your side, your jaw aching in his grip. “You wanna feel the real thing? Huh?” 

“Please,” you clasp the fabric of his shirt in your fingers. 

“Doll, I want you think about this,” he buries his thumb behind your jaw until you whine. “You’re up here all by yourself. Lonely days, lonelier nights. Anyone could catch on. They could figure out just as fast as I did.” He leans in until you’re nearly bent backwards. “You need a man because any old beast could snatch you up.” 

Your eyes glisten and you search his face. He doesn’t look human. He’s animalistic. His eyes are dark and dilated and his jaw is set with slathering hunger. Your lip trembles. 

"Wouldn't you rather have the beast on your side, doll? Instead of tearing it down?” He purrs and shifts his hand around your chin, bringing his thumb up to poke at your lower lip. “I can be good for you, all you gotta do, is the same.” 

[priya-san]

Drabble: and hazelnut torte for dessert

Word count: 1.2k

Lucanis x Fem Rook

Lucanis gifts Rook a hazelnut torte for the first time.

—– ♡ —–

Lucanis wiped his brow, slick with sweat after standing in front of the kitchen fire. He gave the paella one last taste, before quietly nodding in approval of his own handy work. He turned off the stove and moved the pot off the hot burner. After a few minutes of rest, dinner would be ready to serve.

He heard the dining room door open just as he bent down to pull out the torte. From the light movements he could tell it was Rook. A small smile bloomed on his face and Spite stirred in the depths of their shared mind.

Rook. Smells like lavender and peppermint.

“You plan on standing over there forever?” Lucanis asked, unable to keep the warmth out of his voice.

“Just taking in the heavenly smell,” Rook walked over to him. “What is it?”

“Paella. Well two of them, one without seafood for Emmrich.”

“I can’t wait,” Rook all but drooled. Her eyes then landed on the torte, and she looked at Lucanis with expectant eyes.

“And hazelnut torte for dessert. It pairs well with coffee.”

Rook’s eyes went wide, and her cheeks began to warm. “Wait. Did you make dessert just for me?”

Lucanis smiled wryly, “There’s enough for everyone.”

“Still, they don’t all love coffee like I do,” Rook beamed.

“They won’t complain.” His voice came out lower than he expected, more rough and heated. Rook reacted to that, a flush crept along her cheeks. Lucanis loved that he was the one who affected her this way.

“You didn’t have to do anything special for me.”

His gaze narrowed, and his smile was replaced with a more serious look. “Yes, I did. I still don’t know how to apologise for… everything. I had to do something to thank you after everything you’ve done for me.”

“Lucanis, I don’t know what to say.” Rook beamed and reached out her hand. He took it easily, craving her touch more than ever before. As he threaded his fingers through her own, he was suddenly aware just how clammy his hands were. He had been cooking, and the anticipation of presenting the dessert to Rook had left him nervous. If she had noticed, she didn’t seem to mind. She was looking at their hands with the brightest smile he’d ever seen.

“You made dessert, just for me.”

“It’s nothing, or not enough.”

Lucanis couldn’t help it. It would never feel like enough. Not after everything she’d done for him, not after everything he had been trained to do. He was a Mage Killer, and Abomination. She deserved more. So, so much more.

“It is,” she said firmly, catching him off guard. He looked up and she held his gaze, firm and resolute. “And you are.” Rook squeezed his hand, and after a beat a slow smile bloomed on his face, and he squeezed back. “I’ll have you know, I’m very easily bribed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he chuckled, and Rook’s grin grew wide once more.

“Can I have a slice?”

“Now?”

Rook pulled away and walked to the torte, making a show of taking in the delicious smell. Lucanis was glad that he had only just taken it out of the oven, the rich chocolate smell lingered, enveloping them both.

“Yes please. You made it for me and I want to savour it before the others get here.”

Lucanis smiled warmly, “Of course, Rook.”

He took the torte to the kitchen bench and confidently made a show of lifting up his knife with a flourish. This, this he could do. He was in his element, and Rook seemed to enjoy seeing him in it, eyes never leaving his hands. He presented a plate with a small slice for her.

“Is this enough?”

“Perfect, thank you.” Rook grabbed the plate from him and cut through the torte with the spoon. Lucanis held his breath, until she finally took her first bite. Then… she moaned.

Rook made a noise Lucanis had never heard come out from her mouth before. It was soft, sensual and full of want. He had elicited that from her. A electric current ran through him and his heart beat so loudly he was certain Rook was able to hear it. It scared him how much he wanted to hear her make that noise. More, and more and more.

Fuck, he thought. This is bad.

Why bad? Spite questioned, he paced around Rook as she took another bite. Rook is happy. This is good.

“Gods Lucanis, this is so freaking good.”

“Really?” He asked, grateful for the question so that he wouldn’t have to answer Spite. The demon kept mumbling to himself, thankfully content to be perplexed on his own for once.

Rook likes it. We help Rook.

Rook nodded, “Yes, my Gods. Here have a taste.”

She lifted her spoon up to him and he glanced. Surely she must know what this would do to him. Nevertheless, he was fast finding he could never say no to her.

He took a bite from the spoon and smiled as the flavours exploded in his mouth. It was nutty and chocolatey, with a hint of apricot to break through the rich flavour. Emmrich had done him an amazing favour by sharing this recipe, Lucanis wasn’t going to forget it anytime soon.

His tongue darted out to lick a crumb off his bottom lip and he didn’t miss how Rook’s eyes widened with that action. She suddenly looked heated, and much more intense than before.

“It’s good.”

“Really good.”

Lucanis swallowed hard, desire shooting through him as she looked at him with those kind, violet eyes. “You-You’re welcome.” He backed away, unsure if he was ready for what came next. Instead of allowing his thoughts to wander about how good she would feel pressed up to him, he moved to the sink to wash his knife.

If Rook was disappointed by his actions, she didn’t show it. Instead, she finished her slice in silence, humming in delight every now and then. When there was not a crumb left on her plate, he reached over to take it from her. She handed it to him and closed the gap between them, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. It was quick, but long enough for Lucanis to take in just how soft her lips were. Softer than he could have ever imagined. They felt so good, so right there just above his beard. It was perfect.

“I’m happy to go slow if you are,” she whispered against him before pulling away. She was smiling, warm and kind.

“If that is enough for you,” echoes of disappointment raged through his head. Spite grumbled in annoyance at his own internal chatter, that he wasn’t Illario. He couldn’t sweep her off her feet and take her right here and now like she probably wanted.

She grabbed his hand again, her thumb stroking his knuckles. “Lucanis, you will always be enough for me.”

His heart sped up, fluttering with nerves, joy and the one emotion he couldn’t dare name because it was too soon. Way too soon. Instead, he allowed himself to be emboldened by her declaration, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead.

“Thank you, Rook.”

[babybatss-blog]

DOMESTICS

Sirius black x reader, 1100  words

summary: all you wanted to do was cook Sirius some chicken for dinner, but perhaps things don’t always go your way.

c/w: established relationship, alcohol consumption, swearing and crying, argument between Sirus and Reader. Practically just tame, basic relationship angst that turns into fluff :)

The classic casual Friday night is always a big step in any intimate relationship. Stepping out of uncomfortable outfits and delicate table foods into comfy hoodies and junky snacks creates a whole new level of intimacy with a partner, and can be quite nerve wracking for at least the first few instances. 

But you and Sirius are way past that.

On the first date, you stayed the night at his for two whole days. You met his best friends on that second day, and he met yours just four days later. James said you were funny, and Lily said Sirus was smitten. He admired your comfortableness with him while you appreciated his lack of care towards your groggy state every morning, and a week in you both shared your deepest traumas with each other. On some random Wednesday your parents turned up unannounced in your apartment, which is when he met them both shirtless and slightly hungover (though he concealed the latter expertly).

So, two months later it is entirely expected to have Sirius lounging on your couch, watching some Netflix overproduced action show and as you cook dinner. Usually he prefers taking control of the kitchen because he “likes to spoil his girls”, but he did not impose when you insisted it was your turn to give him some love. The kitchen smells like a variety of spices and mouth-watering flavours, and despite the simple dish you are preparing the kitchen looks like a professional chef is making a world-famous meal. Plates, pots and pans are spread around, ingredients spilled on any and all surfaces and your state decreased to completely dishevelled, huffing and puffing at every slight inconvenience to come your way. “This needs to be perfect for him.” You think, anxiously managing every element with not a moment to spare. Unbeknownst to you Sirus has now snuck over, and softly places his chiselled chin on your shoulder as you peer over the cooking meat.

“Looks raw.” He states nonchalantly, arms creeping around your waist. “I know. It’s not done yet.” You explain bluntly, words leaving your mouth slightly more harsh than you intended. But you don’t take them back, as your focus is entirely taken up by the meal in front of you.

Wait, I thought it was done? What’s it meant to look like if it is done? What does it taste like? What more does it need?

He soon releases you, walking away to the bathroom as he calls out. “Sorry for not wanting to be poisoned I guess!” You huff, opting to not fight back in fear of putting too much energy into something that doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things. You and Sirius are both painfully stubborn when you want to be, and are often laughed at by your friends for getting in ridiculous arguments. Once, you needed to go on a walk and clear your head after the two of you debated which Barbie movie is the best.

As he returns from the bathroom he subtly side eyes the chicken, seeing you have now placed it on a plate ready for serving. Against his better judgment, he calls out, in a half cough half word amalgamation which complains “still raw”. Would it be smart for you to reply? No, of course not! But do you do it anyway? Obviously!

“WELL WHY DON’T YOU COOK THEN MR PERFECT?!” You snap, eyes erratic and wide as you face him. He scoffs, hands placed on the kitchen counter opposite you.

“I’d be happy to, but you didn’t fucking let me!”

”Didn’t let you? I’m not your mother, I’m sorry I wanted to do something nice for you!”

“Well it isn’t nice if I’m too sick to go to work tomorrow!”

“Relax hard ass, you start work at three!” The argument quickly escalates past the point of reasonable, as Sirius’ arms flail widely about and the vegetables are left to burn in the oven.

In a closing statement you call Sirius a “spoilt brat” and he storms off, slamming the bedroom door behind him so he can no longer hear you if you try to apologise. Tears well in your eyes as you look around, realising what just happened truly as your brain finally processes. How can your worst argument be about some stupid chicken? You rush to repair the damage of your distractions to the meal, pulling the vegetables out of the oven as your salty tears fall within. You can barely see through your exaggerated sobs, mad at yourself for all manner of things.

Why did you let his simple comments go to your head? What if he’s right, and the meals a disaster? Will he despise you now for going so off the handle? Is this the last night of your fleeting romance?

You quietly serve up the food as these thoughts run through your head, wiping away gushing tears and snot as you go. Once it’s done, you tentatively go over to the closed door of the bedroom and knock a few times. You hear some shuffles, and the door is opened to reveal an unimpressed Sirus. “Sorry…” You mumble, eyes glued to the wooden floor between you. He pushes past you in silence, grabbing his plate and sitting down on the plush couch. As much as you would like to beg for forgiveness and list all the reasons you should stay together, you don’t deem that important when he pats the space next to him to sit down, handing you a sympathetic yet weak smile. “I know you didn’t mean it.” He finally gets out, eyes drilling into your still shy figure. “I just was trying to help.” “I know. But I didn’t want you to have to worry. I wanted to spoil you; you know?” His hand falls onto your thigh, the other placing the chicken in his hungry mouth. You join him in eating the meal, and reluctantly admit what you wished wasn’t true.

“It’s not fully cooked.” You pout, tears still glossing your eyes. He chuckles, placing his plate down and enveloping you in a hug. “That’s fine gorgeous. UberEats it is.” You pull back and quickly peck his lips, a smile forming on both your faces as you respond.

“Only if it’s Mexican.”

“Deal.”

[iluvmorales]

Earth 42, Miles Morales

summary you’re practically part of the family.

a/n none

word count ??

You placed a lid over the pot of arroz, allowing it to steam while Rio, mrs.morales, played her reggaetón. “Mija, you can leave it now it’ll be a couple minutes before it’s done for sure.” She called out, waving you towards her.

You nodded and smiled, making your way over to her. “Miles and Aaron should be back before it’s ready, thank you for helping me mija.” She smiled sweetly. Mrs. Morales was always so sweet to you, she believed you were a great influence on her son and an even better future daughter in law.

“Ah I’m not in a rush anyways, I love cooking with mi suegra” you took a seat next to her. She beamed at the name, she couldn’t wait til you and miles married, even thought that would be years from now since you both are still teens.

Just as she was about to get up to finish laundry, the front door open and a sweet familiar voice called out. “Mamí we’re home!” Miles.

Rio walked over to greet her son with a warm hug and a side hug to uncle Aaron. Miles walked over to you with open arms as Aaron and Rio walked to a back room. “Hola mi hermosa” he rolled his r’s and his voice was deeper, but you got up to give him a big hug anyways. “How was it today?” You asked, a smile across your lips.

You knew who miles was, even after a big fight when you found out, you both came to an agreement. The terms being he made it home safe every night, No killing innocent people, and he’d text, call or tell you in person about every job he worked.

“It was smooth actually, no fighting, no ambushes just an honest transaction.” He huffed, his hands slowly sliding off your waist before falling back into the chair.

You just hummed as you went to check on the rice once more, peeking into the room and seeing Aaron slide Rio some cash, to which she reluctantly accepted after he told her to take care of his nephew.

You went back to minding your own business, watching miles walk to his room to change. After a good 10 mins, the rice was finally done “Food is ready!” You called out. Rio and Aaron walked to the kitchen. “Smells good as hell” Aaron laughed, causing rio to laugh along. “All cause’ of Y/N! I think she’d make a perfect nuera para mi” she winked at you, and you smiled.

“You all can sit down I already started serving plates.” You hummed. It was Arroz con gandules y bife, nothing too special. You set their plates down before looking around, noticing miles was still not back.

You turned to Aaron with a puzzled face ; “did he eat at all today?” The man shook his head before gesturing for you to go after him. You huffed before marching towards his room. “Get on his ah mija!” Rio jokingly called out causing a laughter.

You knocked lightly before opening the door. It was dark, and all you could see was clothes all over the place and his silhouette laying on the bed. “What’s the point of knocking if you’re just going to come in anyways?” miles joked, his voice strained.

“Miles are you alright?” You walked up to his bed, sitting next to his lap. “Yeah I’m just tired, really sleep for some reason.” He yawned mid way through his sentence, his shirtless chest rising and falling.

You placed a hand on his leg, patting it; “Can you eat something before you pass out then? Uncle Aaron said you haven’t eaten, and I cooked for you.” Your voice laced with concern and a hint of pleading.

It wasn’t all too uncommon for miles to forget to eat, his job took up a lot of his time. “Yeah, yeah.” He sat up, rubbing his eyes before placing a hand around your waist. He pulled you with one hand and another lifted your chin and placed a kiss on your lips.

“I knew the food smelt too good for it to be my moms cooking.” He joked, causing giggles to erupt from the both of you.

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 22 prompt : leaves

rated: E (?) | cw: none | tags: housewife role play, feminisation, established relationship

🍁💕🍁💕

Eddie bought the place from a guy Hopper knew. A plot of land in Illinois, just outside Kentucky. A place to rest, to build roots. A new home.

After four platinum albums and near constant touring, Eddie made his lawyer find a clause in his contract titled ‘give me a fucking break.’

So after a final summer of shows. Eddie bought the land officially and did the closest thing he could to marrying Steve Harrington.

He bought a home for Steve, to get him away from the city. He was always complaining about it, about wanting a change - especially now that Robin had settled in an apartment with her girl and had gotten comfortable at her job with the museum. (Eddie flies them out during holidays. He’s rich now, and he’d do anything to put a smile on Steve’s face.)

So Eddie bought Steve a house, and a ring. And it was all very wholesome, and sweet. And Eddie always looks forward to coming back once he’s finished whatever show, interview or meeting that whisks him away. He’s always craving his little bit of wholesome, his little life of sweetness.

He’s also usually craving something else. Something that’s maybe less wholesome, and sweet, depending on how you look at it…

Eddie wipes the sweat from his brow, leaning over the pot of canned sauce he’s stirring. He still can’t cook, and every time worries it’ll mess with the fantasy.

But he can’t think about that now, checking he definitely set the timer for the garlic bread in the oven. He did, 5 more minutes.

He hears Steve kick his boots against the wall outside the frontdoor. He’d wanted to finish moving all the fallen leaves together to be readied for compost. They no doubt tacked themselves to the bottom of his shoes.

The door unlocks and Eddie scrapes a hand through his hair. He hears Steve shuffle around, taking off his jacket and hat. Eddie re ties his apron, pulling the strings tighter around his waist.

‘Honey I’m home!’ Steve calls.

Eddie tenses for a moment, then goes back to stirring. He shivers as Steve’s thick, work worn hands slip around his waist and squeeze. The smell of Steve’s hard earned musk making Eddie’s knees weak.

‘Hey baby.’ Eddie murmurs, as Steve kisses up the side of his neck.

The timer going off makes Eddie jump.

He shoos Steve into a chair and bends to take the garlic bread out of the oven, arching his back a little more than he needs to.

‘Okay, I, uh, think I just need to dish up.’ Eddie says, slightly frazzled, making sure everything is turned off and grabbing plates out.

‘C’mere a sec?’

Eddie turns, smoothing down his frilly apron and stepping over to where Steve’s sat, legs spread. In his flannel and blue jeans he’s as close to a cowboy as Eddie’s ever seen. (The tabbed off page of his old play girl doesn’t see much action anymore, rendered useless by the man before him.)

Steve pulls at his wrists, making Eddie sit straddling his knee. Eddie bites his lip at the friction on his cock through the thin cotton shorts he’s wearing.

‘How’s my best girl huh?’ Steve asks, pulling Eddie flush against him.

Eddie whimpers. ‘Good.’ He rasps. ‘Missed you.’

‘Missed you too, did you cook me something nice?’ Steve tucks a lock of hair behind Eddie’s ear.

Eddie opens his mouth to answer but Steve shifts his thigh and grips Eddie’s hips to grind against him. Eddie moans.

‘What was that?’ Steve asks.

‘Yeh, yes.’ Eddie manages. ‘Pasta.’

‘Ah, just like a good little housewife huh? Go serve it up then.’ Steve says, lifting Eddie’s writhing form off his leg and smacking him on the ass.

Eddie serves up two plates, hands shaking, dick tenting his shorts.

He can’t wait to see what Steve has planned for desert.

🍁💕🍁💕

Tag list (lmk to be added / removed) : @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots @chameleonhair

[sanjisboyfie]

I don’t see much Connie springer x male reader sooo that’s why I’m here😚. So I was thinking something like Connie coming home from work and it’s just male reader in the kitchen making dinner for them. And Connie sneaks up on reader and wraps his arms around his waist and laughs into his neck as they greet each other after a long tiring day. And it ends with them sitting down and having dinner with each other, smiles and all. Honestly just fluff, I want my bookie to be happy.

LJ:LKJLKJAIDJOIJAD i love connie springer guys hes just a silly guy please send him more love

connie springer x male reader !

-> can be read as modern!au or in the canon universe

rating: fluffy <3 hes just baby guys

by some miraculous chance, you don’t hear the front door of your humble home open. perhaps its purposeful of connie to open and close it so gently. he had come home later than usual, so he was anticipating that you would be getting ready for bed — which is why he was being so soft with his actions. but when the smell of a home cooked meal greets his senses, he sighs in delight and grins to himself. he now knows you’re in the kitchen. he quietly takes off his shoes, jacket, and hat from his head, running his hand over his buzzed hair and walking to the kitchen.

his body moves quietly from the front door to the kitchen before he’s placed himself right behind you. you don’t notice him, too immersed in cooking, and it takes him sneaking his arms around your waist and pulling you backward to even notice.

a weak yell escapes your mouth, immediately turning around to slap his chest and shoulders for scaring you so bad. you weren’t alarmed, familiar with the hands and arms around your torso, but you were pissed at him for being so mischievous.

“connie! i could’ve gotten burnt! i was right in front of the soup!” you scold, slapping his chest a couple of times. he only smiles softly, moving his arms to rest loosely on your shoulder.

“i know, babe, but i did purposely wait till your hands were not stirring the pot — so i was aware and considerate!” he defends himself, leaning down to kiss away your frown. his action successfully distracts you because you still did miss your man after a long day of waiting for him at home.

he smiles into the kiss, moving one of his hands to rest on your jaw, keeping you steady and close to him. the other falls to your hands, squeezing it and holding it as he kisses you with passion. it was normal and familiar - to be so drowned in his overwhelming amounts of love and affection. he forces himself off of you, pecking your lips one last time before stepping away, “what’d you make?”

“your favorite soup and i have the bread already heated up. it’s a simple dinner, my love, but i made do with what we had,” you say, sounding apologetic, but he immediately washes your worries away by pinching your cheek gently.

“we can go down to the market tomorrow, early morning, maybe miss janet will give us a discount for being her first customers,” he winks, “besides, you know i love anything you make, no matter how simple you think it is,”

“thank you, baby,” you smile and he beams a blinding one right back at you.

after a couple of minutes of talking about his day at work, the soup was finished and you two were serving each other. you had exchanged your plates with one another and walked to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. connie sighed, feeling relief to finally be off of his feet and immediately patted the cushion beside him. you took it in a second’s notice, smiling to yourself to feel his arm wrap around your shoulder.

“thank you for the food, baby,” he says, before immediately diving into his thick sandwich. you had assembled it, knowing of his love for meat and packed on as much protein you could. and to hear and see his satisfaction after the first bite, you smiled to yourself in accomplishment.

after finishing the quick meal, connie immediately collapsed into your body, his empty plate and bowl placed on the table.

"c'mere," he groans, wrapping his arms around you and diving his head into your neck. the weight of his body on yours makes you collapse into the soft cushioned sofa beneath you. his warm breath is cascading down onto your exposed neck. "ugh, i missed you today,"

"you say that everyday,"

"and i'll say it again tomorrow and the day after and the day after and the day after-"

"okay, i get it, connie," you laugh, slapping his shoulder to signal him to move his entire body off of you, but he shakes his head into your neck.

"don't wanna move, don't make me," he says, whiny tone obvious and audible.

"alright, you big baby, stay there and suffocate me," you say with a rolling of your eye that he doesn't even see.

instead, he just hums happily and continues trying to bury his head deeper into the crevice of your neck and shoulder - as if he's trying to melt his body with yours.

the prickly sensation of his buzzed hair against your skin is not unpleasant or pleasant, it's just something you've grown to have a fond familiarity with. and to feel his breathing slow down, to show he was slowly turning sleepy, it made your smile stretch even wider.

"we gotta get to bed connie, you still have to take a shower and stuff," you tap his back to show he has to get up, but he only groans and falls even more limp into your hold.

"five mins," he says softly, kissing you on your neck several times, as if to goade you into agreeing.

and it does work. because now you're running your hand up and down his back while the other ghosts over his spiky hair, a content look on your face. and you can't see it, due to his face being hidden in your neck, but he's also sharing a similiar look of relaxation and happiness.

[kcrossvine-art]

Heya folks n friends! Today on our LotR cooking series, we're going to be making something inspired by Mrs. Maggot, wife of Farmer Maggot. Originally we were going to do a cream of mushroom soup, but the idea of adding meat as a cheeky lil joke on their last names was too good to pass up. In my mind meat goes better with thin soups than creamy ones.

And thus Mrs. Maggots Meat 'N Mush Stew was born.

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Mrs. Maggots Meat 'N Mush Stew?” YOU MIGHT ASKFor the stew portion itself we're going to be using a hearty base, aiming for a layering of flavors. If you feel comfortable making a roux, feel free to do so, but I did not due to energy levels and thus the flour in this recipe is only used for searing the meat before its added to the pot.

Cubed beef

Flour

Peanut oil

Beef stock

Dried porcini mushrooms

Carrots, chopped

Onion, diced

Garlic, crushed

Scallion, chopped

Bay leaf

Salt and pepper

Ground red pepper

Cumin

Zatarins gumbo file

For the other mushrooms, were going to cook them separate and throw them in at the end (but they'll have friends to keep them company!!).

Cremini mushrooms, sliced

Half an onion

Carrots

Garlic

Salt and pepper

Thyme

Olive oil

This took about 4 hours in total. If you have a slow cooker itd probably be easier to use that, but as is isn't too bad either. I mostly worked on commission stuff in the kitchen in-between stirring. "The best food is the one you don't have to make, the second best food is the one you don't have to think while making."

AND, “what does Mrs. Maggots Meat 'N Mush Stew taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

HOT HOT HOT

Tastes like walking from the cold into the cramped but cozy bar your friend works at

Meat was so tender and juicy, melts in your mouth. Makes you cry

It wanst actually carmelization but the onions had a hint of tasting caramelized

Mushrooms- a strong umami flavor with a bit of smokeyness

Once you get that Perfect level of gumbo file, it just makes every other element stick out more

Like an energy booster for the ingredients

A spotlight on the bay leaf, and oils, and spices

. If you don't want to use beef, feel free to use vegetable stock instead and replace the cubes with strips of king oyster mushrooms. Exclude the flour but still cook them in the pan. . this isnt officially part of the recipe since im not sure itd be 'on theme', but feel free to start your rice cooker around the 3 hour mark so you can have some hot rice ready for serving as filler.

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When I was looking through food and food mentions in LotR, Mrs.Maggot just stook out to me. 'Queen amongst farmers wives' is both really sweet and a fuckin killer description. What a legend. I wanted to do something based on her and our two options were either beer, bacon or raw mushrooms. Beer while very appealing is also not something you can whip up in a day, while raw mushrooms have a chance of killing my beloved readers. I don't want to talk about me and bacons sordid past.

And so as praise to this funky farmer women, may you add this stew to your collection of potpie, lasagna, and roast recipes.

Did i mention i started my first grease fire when making this? Yeah. Don't cover any empty greased pan even if your intent is to keep water from splashing into it.

Anyway, this recipe is a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) The partner has already made me pledge to cook it again hehehe

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

2 lbs cubed beef

A little bit of flour to 'tumble' the meat in, in a bowl

Peanut oil to sear the beef, as needed

3 kilograms beef stock

28g dried porcini mushrooms

4 carrots, chopped

1 white onion, diced

4 cloves garlic, crushed

1 scallion branch, chopped

Salt and pepper to taste

Ground red pepper to taste

Cumin to taste

3 bay leafs

A pinch of Zatarins gumbo file

Ingredients… . . TWO:

1 lb cremini mushrooms

Half of a white onion, diced

1 carrot, chopped

2 cloves garlic, crushed

Salt, pepper, and thyme to taste

Olive oil as needed to pan-fry

Method:

Put the porcini mushrooms into a bowl, add enough warm water to cover. Give them roughly 20 minutes, or until softened and the waters turned color.

Cut the carrots, onion, and garlic.

Get a large pot with a lid, pour in your stock (or water and bouillon cubes). Pour in the porcinis and the mushroom water. Turn the burner to medium-high.

Add your bay leaves, carrots, onion, and garlic to the pot. Add extra salt if you'd like.

Tenderize and cut your beef into roughly 1 inch cubes.

In a small bowl, pour a handful of flour along with pepper, cumin, and ground red pepper. Mix until combined.

Lightly toss each cube of beef in the mixture, get a little coverage on each side.

Heat a frying pan to medium heat and add peanut oil. If using an electric stovetop it will take time to heat up.

Add some of your beef cubes to the pan, don't overcrowd it. Flip to check sides are a light brown with dark brown edges, its good for some pink/red to poke through.

Add beef cubes to the pot when done, careful of splashing.

Keep doing this in batches until all beef cubes are added. 

 Once the pot has reached a simmer, turn the heat down a few notches and cover.

Set a timer for 4 hours. Taste test every so often. Aim to stir the pot every 10-15 minutes.

(You can do steps 14-21 immediately or optionally wait a bit)

 Rinse and dry your cremini mushrooms.

Slice them vertically. Cut the carrots, onion, and garlic.

In a frying pan on medium-low heat, add olive oil, carrots, and onion. Keep the vegetables moving! When they start to change texture, add your cremini mushrooms.

Bring the pan up to medium heat. 

Once your mushrooms have cooked off the liquid inside, theyll start turning a deeper brown. Add the garlic. Keep! the! vegetables! Moving!

If the pan gets overcrowded, take some out and set it aside in a bowl. Smaller batches.

This process took roughly 15 minutes, but youll know its done once everything has a nice sear on it and the garlic is brown but not burnt. Add salt, pepper, and thyme to taste.

Set everything aside in a bowl.

Once the 4 hours are up the meat should be cooked all the way through and tender enough to pull apart. Strain the bay leaves out. Cut and add scallions. Add the bowl with cremini mushrooms.

Add a pinch of gumbo file to start, stir and taste test.

[giveafike]

Silent Night, No More - B.T.S

TLDR: CHRISTMAS EVE! This is part 12/12, the last part of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 5k + dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! No warnings : )

Azzie Notes ✚: Christmas Eve chapter! Finally here, phew! Enjoy reading, and have a lovelyyyy holiday szn my loves <3 be safe and I wish nothing but peace and joy for u and ur loved ones :)

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Christmas Eve dawned on the house, and as soon as the house awakened, excitement and joy immediately lit the house throughout each room. Lisa’s kitchen felt like the heart of the house, beating warm and alive, with an aroma that wafted through the house, every surface serving a purpose as she began cooking the dishes, getting everything for the feast set to ensue later. The counters were a cluttered symphony of ingredients, flour-dusted bowls, glass jars of different herbs and spices, and a large array of serving dishes and other equipment. The oven hummed, working overtime while the gas stoves remained alight with several pots atop, as trays of stuffing and casseroles exchanged places. Lisa moved with the confidence of a seasoned cook, wielding her wooden spoon like a wand.

You, Emma and Ben, had weaved in and out throughout the day, helping clean up the kitchen or assisting in tasting and aiding in preparing some of the dishes. Still, truly Lisa seemed to have it under control, especially with all the prep you both had done the other day. Now it was more a case of gossiping and talking, keeping company while the minutes ticked away while Ben got shooed away to set up the large dining table and the kid's table for dinner.

Emma leaned against the counter, sneaking a piece of carrot from the chopping board while Lisa’s back was turned. “Caught you. Down, girl,” Lisa said without even looking, and Emma’s hand froze mid-air.

“Dang it,” Emma muttered, popping the stolen piece into her mouth anyway. “You’ve got eyes in the back of your head.”

“Mother’s intuition,” Lisa replied, her tone amused as she sprinkled paprika over a bubbling dish. Then, she turned to you. “You keeping her in check?”

You raised both hands in mock surrender. “She’s a free spirit. What am I to do, Lis?”

Emma giggled, linking her arm through yours. “Come on, let’s get ready before Mom ropes us into something else.”

In Emma’s room, Christmas jumpers were laid out on her bed like a festive fashion show. “We’ve got options for the both of us, but you have to wear a Christmas jumper - no escape,” she declared, holding up two hangers.

One featured a fluffy snowman surrounded by tiny, twinkling LED lights; the other was a maroon sweater adorned with white snowflakes and reindeer. “Which one says ‘I’m the life of the party, but also an excellent gift recipient’?”

You laughed, pointing to the reindeer sweater. “Definitely this one.”

She handed it to you before holding up another for herself, a green jumper with a cheerful Santa Claus and jingling bells stitched onto the sleeves. “Perfect,” she declared. “Let’s get festive.”

As you pulled on the sweater and paired it with a sweet black pleated skirt, you glanced at yourself in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile. It was cozy and just the right amount of ridiculous. You pulled your hair back and did light makeup, just blush and concealer and a touch of mascara. Emma, already fully dressed, fluffed her hair and tugged you into a selfie. “Documenting this for the archives,” she said, sticking out her tongue.

The two of you headed back downstairs, where Ben was crouched by the Christmas tree, adjusting the gifts as he snuck his Secret Santa present there too. He stood up as you entered, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. His own jumper, a deep red one with white reindeer, matched yours almost exactly.

Emma burst out laughing. “You two look like you planned this!”

“We didn’t!” you protested, feigning annoyance though your cheeks burned as Ben looked at you, his smile widening.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said, tugging at his sleeve. “Guess great minds think alike.”

Back in the kitchen, Bryan had just returned, jingling his keys as he carried in a bag filled with snacks.

“Got the goods!” he announced, setting the bag down on the counter. “And before anyone asks, yes, I did mean to buy candy canes the day before Christmas.”

“Uh-huh,” Lisa said, arching an eyebrow. She reached into the bag and pulled out a pack of marshmallows. “And these were on the list?”

“Essential for s'mores,” Bryan said, unrepentant. Then, leaning closer to Lisa, he added in a low voice, “I stopped by the PO Box.”

Lisa smirked knowingly. “Last-minute gift retrieval?”

“Shh,” Bryan replied, holding a finger to his lips as he glanced at you and Emma. “Not a word.”

“Don’t worry,” Emma said, her tone dripping with faux innocence. “Your secret’s safe with us…for now.”

As Bryan moved past you, he clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “You all set up here, kid?”

“Mostly,” Ben replied. He gestured to the table with a sweeping hand. “You want to check my work?”

Bryan squinted at the table like a coach assessing a play. “Not bad, not bad. You might have a future in hospitality if this tennis thing doesn't work out, son.”

Ben rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. “Good to know I’ve got options.”

As the sun began to set, the kitchen became a flurry of activity. Lisa transferred dishes to serving platters while Emma handled the gravy, stirring it with exaggerated care while you got the cranberry sauce ready. “Gotta keep the lumps out,” she said, winking at you.

Bryan circled back, snagging a piece of bread from the cutting board and earning a sharp “Bryan!” from Lisa.

“What? Quality control,” he defended, chewing unabashedly. Then he turned to you. “By the way, you’re fitting in around here like you’ve been part of the family for years. Good job surviving this lot.”

“Thanks,” you replied with a laugh. “I’m enjoying every chaotic minute.”

Bryan smiled warmly, and for a moment, the teasing glint in his eyes softened as he pat your back. “We’re glad to have you here. Really.”

Ben leaned against the counter beside you, brushing your shoulder with his. “Told you they’d love you,” he said quietly.

Your chest warmed as you turned to him, your voice soft. “Guess I’m just lucky to have the best companion.”

Ben smirked, nudging you lightly. “Please, lucky’s an understatement.”

“Alright, you three,” Lisa called, pointing her spoon at you, Ben and Emma as you stood near the cabinets. “The nice plates and cutlery are in the top drawer, and the good cups are wrapped in the linen closet. Don’t break anything.”

Emma rolled her eyes with a grin, nudging you. “She acts like we’re five. Come on, let’s make this table look like a magazine spread.”

The two of you dug out the plates, admiring the intricate designs that only ever came out for Christmas. Emma carried the stack carefully, while you followed with the silverware and cups, setting them down on the dining table where Ben was already arranging the candles and centrepiece.

“Keep it neat, Benny,” Emma teased as she set the plates down. “This isn’t your tennis playstyle; exactness matters.”

Ben shot her a playful glare, adjusting a placemat just to spite her. “Precision’s my speciality, Em. You’re lucky I’m not measurin' angles here.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you placed forks and knives neatly beside the plates. The three of you worked in unison, the table gradually transforming into a picture-perfect setup with now lit candles, a centrepiece of poinsettias, and a sprinkling of gold and red decor.

As the sun dipped low, the food was plated onto the good dishes and placed in warming trays, bowls and serving trays, the kitchen alive with the clatter of lids and Lisa’s cheerful humming. Bryan returned to the rest of you, a sheepish smile plastered on his face after swiftly tossing his Secret Santa gift beneath the tree.

With the house organised and ready it wasn't long before the family began to arrive.

The door opened to a flood of warmth and sound. Aunts and uncles piled in with cheerful exclamations, small children rowdy and excited darting through your legs, and laughter filled the space as Ben’s family began their Christmas Eve takeover. The smell of cookies, pine, and faint notes of perfume wafted in with them, making the house feel even cozier.

Ben and Emma led the welcoming committee, diving into hugs and playful jabs like they’d been waiting all year for this moment. You followed closely, feeling the contagious energy of their enthusiasm.

One of Ben’s aunts, her arms full of baked goods, set them down to pull you into a tight hug. “Oh, so you’re the one,” she said with a knowing smile. “Ben’s talked about you nonstop. We were beginning to think you weren’t real!”

“I’m real, I promise,” you replied, laughing as she squeezed you again.

Ben’s grandmother was next, her soft hands wrapping around yours as she studied you closely. Her eyes crinkled with warmth. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she said, her drawl wrapping around the words like a melody. “This boy better be treatin’ you right.”

“Oh, he is, it's a pleasure to finally meet you,” you assured her, feeling your cheeks warm under her kind gaze.

Ben appeared behind you, throwing an arm around his grandmother’s shoulders. “Nana, you’re embarrassing me,” he teased, though the fondness in his tone was unmistakable.

“Good,” she shot back, giving his arm a light slap before turning back to you, squeezing your hand tight before letting go. “We’ll talk more later, sweetheart.”

The uncles were just as welcoming, their handshakes firm and accompanied by wide grins. One leaned in conspiratorially, muttering, “If Ben’s giving you any trouble, let me know. I’ve got plenty of stories that’ll keep him humble.”

“Noted,” you said, unable to suppress your giggles.

Before long, the younger cousins made their presence known. They were a whirlwind of energy, zipping through the living room like tiny tornados. One darted behind you hiding, clearly using you as an advantage for a game of tag, giggling maniacally as another launched themselves at Ben, wrapping their arms around his waist.

“Ben!” the little one squealed.

“Oh no, not again,” Ben groaned dramatically, lifting the child effortlessly and perching them on his shoulders. “Alright, who’s next? Form a line!”

Three more cousins swarmed him, clambering up his legs and giggling as he tried to fend them off with mock protests. “I’m not a jungle gym!” he shouted, though his wide smile betrayed him.

You watched from the side, laughing at the chaos. One cousin paused mid-sprint to look up at you with curious eyes. “Are you his girlfriend?”

Before you could answer, Emma swooped in. “She’s our new favourite family member,” she said with a wink, ushering the little one back into the fray.

Dinner was nothing short of a spectacle. The dining table stretched to its limit, every inch covered with dishes that looked like they’d been lifted from the pages of a holiday cookbook. Platters of turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, and cornbread vied for space with glasses of sparkling cider and wine.

Lisa stood at the head of the table, raising her hands to gather everyone’s attention. “Alright, everyone,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. “Before we dig in, let’s join hands for a quick prayer.”

You reached for the hands nearest to you, finding Ben’s warm grip on one side and his grandmother’s gentle hold on the other. The room quieted as Lisa spoke.

“Dear Lord,” she began, her voice steady and heartfelt. “Thank you for this family, for this meal, and for the blessing of being together on this special night. May we remember the joy of giving, the love that binds us, and the hope that tomorrow brings. Amen.”

“Amen,” echoed through the room, and then the feast began.

The meal was a lively affair, filled with overlapping conversations, clinking glasses, and occasional bursts of laughter. Ben’s younger cousins, who had temporarily calmed down enough to eat, couldn’t resist sneaking off with a plate of sugar cookies halfway through dinner. They reappeared moments later with suspiciously sweet-smelling fingers and wide-eyed innocence.

Ben caught them red-handed. “Hey! Those are for dessert, y'all are some sneaky lil-!” he feigned anger, chasing them around the table while the rest of the family laughed.

"He always finds a way to sneak back to the kid's table, huh?" one voice laughed.

Bryan just shook his head, pretending to be disappointed as he took a deep sigh, "Every year..."

Once everyone had eaten their fill, the group naturally drifted to the living room, bunching up together. The kids wasted no time sprawling across the carpet in front of the TV, eyes glued to the animated version of The Grinch that played on the screen while milk, cookies and other sweet treats were shared amongst them. Their giggles punctuated the festive chatter, pillows and blankets passed between them like treasures.

The adults, meanwhile, settled into clusters around the room, the cozy couches and armchairs filling quickly. Ben was at the centre of one group, effortlessly juggling questions about his career with that easy charm of his.

“So, what’s next for you, big shot?” one of his uncles teased, though the pride in his voice was unmistakable. “Still aiming for top 10?”

Ben leaned back against the couch, his posture relaxed but attentive. His arm rested along the back of the cushion behind you, a subtle but comforting presence.

“That’s the plan. It’s been a good year so far, but next season’s gonna be a whole new level. A lot of travel, a lot of long days, but I’m ready for it.”

Another uncle nodded approvingly. “As long as you’re enjoying it,” he said, his tone warm. “That’s what matters. Doesn’t hurt that you’re putting our name on the map, either.”

Ben smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting with quiet pride. “Yeah, it’s been fun. It’s a lot of work, but honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

One of his aunts, sitting on the edge of a loveseat nearby, chimed in. “Well, it’s been amazing watching you shine, Ben. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself too.”

“I’ve got that covered,” Ben assured her, his eyes briefly flicking to you. “It helps to have good people around to keep me grounded.”

The conversation naturally shifted, as all eyes subtly turned toward you. It wasn’t sudden or forced, just a gentle pivot, like a tide rolling in.

Ben’s aunt leaned forward slightly, her expression curious but kind.

“So,” she began, her eyes twinkling with curiosity, “what’s it been like being with Ben? I mean, being with someone who’s on the road so much, always on tour. That’s gotta be… a lot on your shoulders too, sweetheart.”

Ben glanced at you, his expression softening in quiet encouragement as if to say, It’s okay, be honest.

“It definitely has its challenges,” you admitted. “There’s a lot of planning and juggling schedules, but honestly, it’s worth it. Ben has a way of making every moment feel important, even if we don’t get as much time together as we’d like. Quality time over the quantity of time, y'know?”

One of the uncles grinned knowingly, his voice teasing but kind. “Sounds like our Benny’s doing something right for a change.”

Ben rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “You’re not wrong,” he quipped, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Another voice chimed in, tone pensive. “I can imagine it takes patience. And maybe even a little creativity? It's not like you can always go out or be public, goodness...”

You nodded, humming in agreeance. “Exactly. But it helps that he’s so passionate about what he does. It’s easy to root for someone when you see how much they love what they’re doing. And we're both good at making time for each other and communicating, it works out well.”

“She’s been good around here, huh?” one of the uncles said, gesturing toward you. “Lis, I don’t think we’ve seen you this relaxed in a long time.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow, looking mock-offended. “Excuse me, I am the epitome of relaxed all the time.”

Bryan, returning from the kitchen with a plate of s'mores for the kids, snorted. “Mmhmm, sure you are.”

Lisa waved him off but smiled warmly, her gaze landing on you. “She’s been a breath of fresh air, that’s for sure. I don’t know how Ben managed to talk her into coming down here to spend it with us, but I’m glad he did.”

Ben’s grandmother nodded in agreement, breaking into a gentle smile. “Me too,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “It’s been lovely having you here with us. How’s it been, spending the holidays with all of us? We can be a little… energetic.”

The warmth in the room was palpable, and you felt your cheeks heat at the attention. “Thank you,” you said, your voice earnest. “It’s been incredible. I think I’ve been smiling nonstop since I got here. Everyone’s been so welcoming, it really feels like being part of something special.”

A ripple of murmured appreciation and smiles went around the room, and one of Ben’s uncles, seated with a glass of cider in hand, grinned broadly. “Well, that’s good to hear. We don’t exactly do quiet, but we do a whole lotta love.”

“It shows,” you replied, a genuine smile on your face. “It’s a good kind of chaos. It’s been easy to feel at home.”

The kids erupted into another round of laughter, their voices catching the attention of the room as one tried to mimic the Grinch’s dramatic sly walk, much to the delight of the other children. Their antics drew the group’s attention for a moment, lightening the mood even further.

Ben's hand found its way to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. His voice filled with pride but just above a whisper. “You okay?” His gaze held yours, steady and sincere.

You turned to him, your smile growing softer. “Yeah,” you said quietly, just for him. “Better than okay.”

He smiled that private little grin that was just for you, and gave your shoulder another reassuring squeeze and a pressing kiss to your temple before turning back to the room. His arm stayed where it was, a silent claim and sign of pride.

As the conversation dropped into a story time of some incident earlier this month you took a moment or two to just sit there surrounded by laughter, chatter, and warmth, feeling entirely at peace. It wasn’t just Ben, it was the family, the energy, and the way they opened their home and hearts to you. You glanced at him again, finding him already looking at you, and you couldn’t help but think, this feels like home.

The room quieted slightly as the conversation dwindled down, which prompted Bryan to stand and clap his hands once, the sound cutting through the chatter. “Alright, everyone, settle down, I think it’s Secret Santa time!”

The announcement was met with cheers, laughter, and some playful groans from the kids, who had long forgone the Grinch and were more interested in a game of play-fighting each other and bouncing on the couch. Lisa emerged from the kitchen with a tray of hot cocoa for the younger ones, while the adults pulled their chairs closer into a semi-circle around the Christmas tree.

“Okay,” Bryan started, grabbing a gift and reading the tag, “this one’s for… Em!”

Emma squealed in delight and scrambled forward, nearly tripping over one of the little cousins who stuck themselves out last minute. She took the neatly wrapped gift from Bryan’s hands, plopped down cross-legged in front of the tree, and tore into it with dramatic flair.

“Oh my gosh!” she shrieked, holding up a beautiful matching outdoor all-weather jacket set, one for her and Halo, alongside a bracelet and dog collar. The colours complemented Halo’s coat perfectly, and there was even a little charm engraved with Halo’s name. “This is so cute, all I put on my wishlist was somethin' for me 'n Halo, who did this?”

You raised your hand a little shy. “That’d be me.”

Emma’s pout was instant and exaggerated, but her eyes sparkled. “You! You’re too good at this!” She bolted up, practically leaping at you as she enveloped you in a tight hug. Her lips pressed a loud, playful kiss to your cheek before she pulled back. “Seriously, this is the best. Thank you!” She immediately began calling Halo over to try on his new gift, beaming with excitement.

Bryan reached for the next present, his grin wide. “Alright, next up… this one’s for Ben.”

Ben took the box with an exaggerated bow, earning laughter and applause. He made a show of shaking it next to his ear, grinning mischievously. “Hmm, feels important,” he teased, glancing at you like you might give something away.

“Just open it, drama king,” Emma called, rolling her eyes.

Ben tore the wrapping away, revealing a sleek black journal and a beautifully designed scratch-off world map. His smile softened as he turned the journal over in his hands, fingers grazing the cover. “This is perfect,” he said, his voice quieter now. He looked around the room, his expression genuinely touched. “I’ve been wanting something like this, I'll do a review on tour and write it down. Thank you, secret Santa.”

“You're welcome,” Lisa admitted, raising her hand with a proud smile. “I figured you could use it for your next season. Better than the normal bunch I get you.”

Ben crossed the room in a few strides, leaning down to kiss his mom on the cheek. “You nailed it,” he said, his gratitude evident.

The next few rounds brought a mix of hilarity and sentimentality. One uncle unwrapped a set of novelty socks featuring flamingos in Santa hats, which sent the room into fits of laughter. An older cousin received a set of gourmet spice blends for their newly discovered love of cooking. One of the younger kids was delighted with a jellycat plushie and various popular blind-boxes, which they immediately hugged to their chest.

Finally, Bryan reached for the gift labelled with your name. “This one’s for you,” he said, handing it over with a grin.

You took the gift, noticing the impeccable wrapping job. “Someone had this done professionally,” you teased, shaking the box gently before pulling at the tape. The room watched eagerly as you opened it, revealing a beautifully curated gift set: an engraved charm bracelet and a luxurious throw blanket in your favourite colour.

“Wow,” you murmured, touched by the thoughtfulness. You glanced up after a few seconds, your eyes scanning the room until they landed on Bryan, who was sitting suspiciously still, legs crossed, a smile tugging at his lips as he tried to cover his mouth from giving him away.

“Bryan!” you exclaimed, laughing as you stood. His wide grin gave him away immediately. "Terrible poker face."

“Guilty,” he admitted, rising to meet your hug. His arms wrapped warmly around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it!” you said, squeezing him back before sitting down again.

As the gifts continued to be opened, the room filled with laughter and joy. Lisa’s gift, a handmade quilt stitched with everyone’s names, earned her a round of applause, while Ben’s grandmother unwrapped a stunning piece of holiday artwork for her mantle, bringing tears to her eyes.

By the time the final gift was opened, everyone was either laughing, hugging, or marvelling at the thoughtfulness of the night, not one present unappreciated. It was pure magic, exactly the kind of warmth and connection that made this holiday unforgettable.

It wasn't long before the well-loved karaoke machine turned into the centrepiece of the late evening. After the initial warm-up of Feliz Navidad with you, Ben, and Emma leading the mission to get everyone in the mood, the night unfolded with a lively lineup of songs. Bryan’s spirited Jingle Bell Rock performance had everyone laughing and clapping, his dramatic hip wiggles earning him a standing ovation from the kids. Lisa’s O Holy Night was a showstopper; her voice soared so beautifully that even the little ones paused their antics to listen momentarily.

The room erupted into applause when she finished, with Bryan dramatically wiping away a fake tear and declaring, “That’s my wife!”

Throughout it all the kids, despite their sugar highs, began to wear down with a sugar crash. One by one, they started curling up on couches, leaning against older cousins, or lying on the plush carpet in front of the tree. Ben surprised everyone with a charmingly off-key rendition of Last Christmas, dedicating it to you while his family howled in laughter when he purposefully butchered the high notes.

“Don’t quit your day job, son,” Bryan teased, throwing a decorative pillow at him.

“Oh, I think I nailed it,” Ben shot back, winking at you as he handed the microphone off to the next brave soul.

You even found yourself roped into a duet with Emma, an upbeat version of Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, earning a cheer when you both ended with exaggerated bows and somehow, tinsel garlands around your necks like scarves. The energy in the room shifted to a more relaxed hum as the night wore on. Conversations grew quieter, and laughter turned softer as the clock ticked closer to midnight.

By the time the last notes of karaoke faded, the practical task of winding down the house began. Air mattresses were pulled from closets and inflated in the living room for the family staying over. Emma tossed pillows and blankets onto each one, laughing when Ben dropped onto one mattress dramatically, testing its bounce like a kid.

“Ben, you’re gonna pop that thing!” Lisa called from the kitchen, her voice holding a mix of amusement and warning.

The others slowly began to filter out, gathering their coats and wishing everyone a cheerful goodnight and a Merry Christmas. Hugs were exchanged at the door, the promise of seeing each other bright and early the next morning lingering in the air.

The house finally quieted as only the immediate family remained on their feet.

Together, you, Ben, Lisa, Bryan, and Emma tackled the cleanup. Dishes clinked in the sink as Bryan dried them off while Lisa packed leftovers into tupperware with precision. You and Emma worked side by side, wiping down the counters and collecting the last of the wrapping paper scattered near the tree.

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” Emma quipped, passing you another wet cloth.

Ben appeared behind you, reaching for the glasses you’d just dried. “Or at least keeps us from being here until morning,” he added, flashing you a quick grin.

As the final crumbs were swept and the house was put back in order, you found yourself in the kitchen with Ben. He leaned against the counter, his phone in hand, its faint glow casting a soft light across his face. When he caught a glimpse of you, his brows unfurrowed as he quickly tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“Caught you,” you teased, stepping closer. “Being sneaky again?”

“Maybe... just trust me, alright? You’ll see soon enough.”

You tilted your head, pretending to scrutinize him. “You’re lucky tonight was perfect, or I might press you for answers.”

“Perfect, huh?” He pushed off the counter and closed the space between you, his hands brushing yours before settling gently on your waist. “So, my crazy family didn’t scare you off?”

“Not even close,” you murmured, smiling up at him. “They’re wonderful. Tonight was… everything.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

The clock above the stove caught your eye as it ticked past midnight. A small laugh escaped you. “Ben,” you said, nudging him gently, “it’s officially Christmas!”

He caught a glimpse of the clock, his eyes wide as a smile broke out on his face.

“Merry Christmas,” you mumbled before the moment could pass, he leaned down and kissed you, a soft, unhurried kiss that made the world outside of this moment melt away.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, his hand cradling your face, breath warm as it mingled with yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the hum of the dishwasher and the faint creak of the settling house the only sounds around you.

His hands slid down to yours, fingers intertwining as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “For being here. For everything.”

You smiled softly, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

The warmth between you was all-encompassing, as though the world had shrunk down to just this kitchen, just this moment. The kitchen remained as the heart of the home, and your heart was here, holding you in his arms, eyes boring into yours with an immeasurable amount of love for you. His thumb brushed across your knuckles as his lips curved into a quiet, contented smile.

From the living room, a faint rustle sounded as Emma and Lisa talked their quiet laughter a reminder of the family still tucked away nearby. The twinkling Christmas lights cast a soft glow over the house, and in the stillness, everything felt whole.

Ben leaned in again, pressing another kiss to your forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. “Merry Christmas,” he said once more, as though savouring the words.

“Merry Christmas,” you echoed, the words wrapping around you both like a blanket. Together, you stood there a moment longer, letting the night settle into your hearts before finally, hand in hand, you turned off the last of the lights and let the warmth of the day carry you both forward.

---

hm. what a weird way to end...right?...

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Part 17: Finding my place

A/N: if you are reading this, say hi. Enjoy!

Previous chapters ☞ HERE ☜

5.1k words

After my nap that was very much needed, selene gave me a tour of the place. She led me through the sanctuary, her footsteps light but purposeful as we navigated the maze of pathways and structures that made up this hidden world. The first stop on the tour was the dining hall, a large, open space filled with long wooden tables and benches. The room was simple but functional, with the scent of freshly cooked food lingering in the air. A few mutants were scattered around, eating quietly or talking in low voices, their expressions a mix of weariness and determination.

"This is the dining hall," Selene explained, her tone matter-of-fact. "It's where we all gather for meals. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are served here, and everyone is expected to pitch in when it's their turn."

I nodded, taking in the space. It was different from the sterile, isolated environment I'd been living in at the X-Mansion. This place felt more... lived in. Like a community, albeit one that was built on survival.

Next, we moved on to the kitchen, which was located just off the dining hall. The kitchen was a bustling hub of activity, with several mutants working together to prepare the next meal. Pots and pans clanged, and the air was thick with the smell of cooking food. Selene pointed out the various stations—cooking, prep, cleaning—and explained that everyone rotated through the different roles.

"Everyone here has a job to do," Selene said as we continued the tour. "It's how we keep the sanctuary running smoothly. Some work in the kitchen, others handle gardening, crop picking, and planting. There are also those who focus on cleaning, maintenance, and other essential tasks. You'll be expected to pick something you're good at and contribute."

I listened carefully, absorbing the information. The idea of having a job, something to keep me busy and give me a sense of purpose, was oddly comforting. It was a reminder that even in this strange new environment, there was still structure and routine—things I could hold on to as I navigated this new chapter of my life.

Selene led me down a narrow hallway to a small, sparsely furnished room that she told me would be mine. The room was basic—a bed, a small dresser, and a window that let in a sliver of light. It wasn't much, but it was a place to call my own, a space where I could retreat when I needed to think or rest.

"Here's your room," Selene said, gesturing to the space. "It's not luxurious, but it's private. You can make it your own."

I nodded, grateful for the small bit of privacy. "Thank you," I murmured, already thinking about how I could make the room feel a little more like home.

We continued the tour, stopping by the communal bathroom, where the other residents of the sanctuary took turns cleaning and maintaining the space. It was practical and clean, with everything needed to keep everyone comfortable and healthy.

Finally, Selene led me to the training area, a large, open space that was clearly designed for combat practice and honing mutant abilities. Several mutants were sparring or practicing their powers under the watchful eyes of instructors. The air was charged with energy, and I could see the determination in their faces as they pushed themselves to improve.

"This is where we train," Selene explained, her gaze sweeping over the room. "It's important for everyone here to be ready—to be strong. We never know when we might need to defend ourselves or the sanctuary. You'll be expected to join in the training sessions as well."

I watched the mutants sparring, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. I knew I had power within me—more than I fully understood—and the thought of learning to control it, to channel it into something useful, was both exciting and terrifying.

As we walked back toward the main area of the sanctuary, Selene turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "You'll need to choose a job, something that suits your skills and interests. It's part of being here—everyone contributes."

I thought about it for a moment, considering my options. I wasn't sure what I was good at anymore, not after everything that had happened. But I knew I needed to do something, to find a place for myself in this new world.

"I'll think about it," I said finally, my voice steady. "I'll find something."

Selene nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Good. Take your time. There's no rush, but don't wait too long. The sooner you find your place here, the better."

With that, the tour was over, and I was left to wander the sanctuary on my own, to explore and begin to find my footing in this strange, new place. The future was uncertain, and the path ahead was filled with challenges, but for the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of purpose, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to make a difference—both for myself and for those around me.

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As dinner time approached, the sounds of chatter and clattering dishes filled the dining hall, but I wasn't in the mood to join the crowd. The weight of everything that had happened—everything I had seen—still hung heavy in my mind, and the idea of sitting among a noisy group of mutants felt overwhelming.

Instead, I decided to take my meal back to my room. Selene didn't seem surprised when I told her, and she simply nodded, understanding that I needed some time alone. Before I left the dining hall, she handed me a charger for my phone, which had been dead since my arrival. It was a small gesture, but it meant more than I could express. 

Back in my room, I plugged in my phone, watching as the screen flickered to life, showing the familiar charging symbol. I placed it on the small table beside my bed, where my dinner tray was already set up. The food looked good—simple but comforting—but I couldn't muster much of an appetite.

I sat on the edge of the bed, picking at the food absentmindedly as my thoughts drifted back to the vision Selene and I had shared earlier. The images of fire, smoke, and the lifeless bodies of the people I cared about flashed through my mind, making it difficult to focus on anything else. The version of myself that had spoken those chilling words haunted me, her voice echoing in my head."This is our future, Violet. And there's no stopping it."

I pushed the plate of food away, unable to eat. The quiet of the room offered some solace, but it also left me alone with my thoughts—thoughts I wasn't sure I was ready to face.

The phone buzzed softly as it finished powering up, and I glanced at it, half-expecting to see messages from Charles, Vanessa, or Wade. But I wasn't ready to deal with that either, not yet. I needed time to process everything, to figure out what my next steps should be.

I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the sounds of the sanctuary muffled by the walls of my room. I knew I couldn't avoid what I had seen forever, but for tonight, I just needed to be alone—to think, to rest, and to try to make sense of the path I had chosen.

Tomorrow, I would begin to find my place here. Tomorrow, I would confront whatever lay ahead. But tonight, I just needed a moment to breathe.

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It was the middle of the night, and I found myself lying in bed, wide awake, unable to shake the vision from earlier. The darkness around me felt suffocating, closing in like the shadows of my own thoughts. I tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but no matter how I shifted, sleep refused to come.

The images of fire, smoke, and death haunted me, playing over and over in my mind like a nightmare I couldn't escape. But it wasn't just the vision that kept me awake—it was what the other version of me had said, the chilling declaration that I was meant to be the Enchanted Witch.

The words echoed in my head, each syllable sending a shiver down my spine. The Enchanted Witch. It sounded like something out of a dark fairy tale, a name whispered in fear and reverence. But the way she had said it, with such cold certainty, made it clear that this wasn't just a story—it was my destiny, a role I was somehow fated to play.

I couldn't accept it. I didn't want to believe that I was meant to become something so powerful and terrifying, something that could bring about the destruction I had seen in the vision. But the other me had been so sure, so confident in the path that lay ahead.

Frustration bubbled up inside me, and I threw the covers off, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I couldn't just lie there, trapped in my own thoughts. I needed to do something, anything, to distract myself from the turmoil inside my head.

I stood up and paced the room, my mind racing. What did it mean to be the Enchanted Witch? Was it a title, a curse, or something more? And why did that other version of me seem so willing to embrace it?

The more I thought about it, the more questions piled up, each one more unsettling than the last. I was supposed to be here to find answers, to prevent the future I had seen, but instead, I felt like I was sinking deeper into uncertainty.

I stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I had pledged my loyalty to Magneto, hoping that he could help me control my powers and prevent the nightmare future from becoming a reality. But now, I wasn't sure if even he could help me with this.

The vision, the other me, the title of Enchanted Witch—it all felt like a puzzle with pieces that didn't quite fit together. And the more I tried to make sense of it, the more lost I felt.

I walked over to the window and looked out at the dark landscape of the sanctuary, the moon casting a pale light over the quiet world outside. The stillness of the night only made the chaos inside me feel more intense, like a pressure building up with no release.

I couldn't stay in that room any longer. I needed air, space to think, to try and clear my mind. Without a second thought, I grabbed my jacket and quietly slipped out of the room, hoping that a walk under the stars might bring some clarity to the confusion that plagued me.

The night was cool and still, the air crisp against my skin as I made my way through the quiet sanctuary. The darkness was comforting, wrapping around me like a blanket, the stars above offering a small measure of peace. I found myself drawn to one of the balconies, a place where I could see the sky and maybe find some solace in its vastness.

As I stepped onto the balcony, I was surprised to see a figure already there. Magneto—or Erik, as I had learned to call him—was sitting at a small table, a mug in his hand. He seemed deep in thought, but as I approached, he looked up and met my gaze. There was something calm and almost inviting in his expression, and without a word, he gestured for me to sit next to him.

I hesitated for only a moment before taking the seat beside him. The night was silent, save for the soft rustling of leaves in the wind, and for a while, neither of us spoke. Erik sipped from his mug, and I found myself wondering what it was he was drinking. But the question that came to my mind wasn't about his drink.

"Where did you get the name Magneto from?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Erik set down his mug, a small smile playing on his lips as he considered my question. "It was a name given to me," he began, his voice low and reflective. "A name that came to define me and the cause I chose to fight for. In the early days, when I first began to embrace my power, I needed something that would strike fear into the hearts of those who sought to oppress us—something that would remind them of the force they were dealing with."

He paused, looking out at the night sky, his eyes distant as if he were recalling memories from a lifetime ago. "Magneto became more than just a name. It became a symbol of resistance, of the strength we mutants possess. It was a way to remind the world that we are not to be trifled with, that we will not bow to those who seek to destroy us."

I nodded slowly, taking in his words. There was a certain power in the name, an undeniable strength that came with it. But there was also a weight, a burden that Erik carried with him—a burden I could see reflected in his eyes.

"And now?" I asked softly. "Do you still see yourself as Magneto?"

He looked at me then, his gaze intense and thoughtful. "Magneto is a part of me, just as Erik is. But I am more than a name, more than a symbol. I am a man who has seen the horrors of this world and who has chosen to stand against them. And now, I find myself in a position where I must guide others, help them find their own strength, their own path."

His words resonated with me, and for a moment, I understood a little more about the man who sat beside me. 

After a brief silence, Erik turned his gaze back to me, his eyes searching mine with a quiet intensity. "What's your story?" he asked, his voice gentle yet probing.

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to answer. My story—where did I even begin? I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts, and then I started talking.

"It's... complicated," I began, my voice shaky as I tried to piece together the fragments of my life. 

"I got my powers from a gem, something ancient and powerful. It wasn't something I chose—it just happened. Ever since then, I've been hiding, running from a man named Strucker. He's... he's the one who did things to me, who experimented on me, who made me into this."

Erik listened intently, his expression unreadable but his focus unwavering. I continued, feeling the weight of my words grow heavier with each sentence.

"When I moved to New York, I thought I could start over, live a simple life. And for a while, it was—well, as simple as it could be, given everything. But then, out of nowhere, two months of my life just... disappeared. My memories are gone, and my head feels like it's going to explode. I hear voices all the time, and they never stop."

My voice started to waver as the panic that had been simmering beneath the surface began to rise. "And now... now I'm supposedly going to be responsible for the deaths of my friends, of the X-Men. I saw it, Erik—I saw their bodies, their blood everywhere. And it's all because of me."

The words tumbled out faster now, my breathing becoming more erratic as I tried to hold myself together. "My life... it's been an endless cycle of pain ever since I was five. Every person I've ever loved has died or been taken from me. My parents, my friends... it's like I'm cursed, like everything I touch turns to ashes. And now, I'm watching it all happen again, and I don't know how to stop it. I don't even know if I can."

My heart raced, and I could feel the familiar weight of despair closing in, suffocating me. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but before I could completely lose myself to the panic, Erik's voice cut through the storm in my mind.

"Violet," he said firmly, his voice grounding me in the present. He reached out, his hand gently caressing my cheek, the warmth of his touch grounding me in a way that nothing else could."Breathe," he whispered softly, his thumb brushing against my skin, wiping away the tear that had escaped. "You're not alone in this."

I looked up at him, my vision blurred by tears, and saw the steadiness in his gaze. He wasn't overwhelmed by my panic—if anything, he seemed determined to pull me out of it.

"Your life has been filled with pain, yes," he continued, his voice steady and calm. "But that pain has also made you stronger. You've survived what most people could never endure. And that strength, Violet, is what will help you face whatever comes next."

I blinked away the tears, focusing on his words, letting them sink in. His hand on my cheek was a comforting presence, a reminder that I wasn't as lost as I felt.

"You are not responsible for what others have done to you," Erik said, his thumb still gently stroking my cheek. "And you are not alone in this fight. You have people who care about you, who want to help you. And now, you have me."

His words, combined with the softness of his touch, began to chase away the darkness that had threatened to overwhelm me. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, feeling the warmth of his hand against my skin.

"You are stronger than you know," he continued. "And together, we will find a way to ensure that vision does not come to pass. But you must believe in yourself, Violet. You must believe that you have the power to change your fate."

I nodded slowly, the panic in my chest beginning to loosen its grip. Erik's touch, so unexpected and gentle, was a lifeline, pulling me back from the edge.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice trembling but steadier than before.

Erik gave me a small, reassuring smile, his hand lingering on my cheek for a moment longer before he let it fall. "You're not alone in this," he repeated softly. "Remember that."

We sat in silence after that, the cool night air soothing the last of my frayed nerves. I wasn't sure what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I had a chance to face it head-on. And I knew that, whatever happened, I wouldn't have to face it alone.

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I don't exactly remember going to bed, but I think I slept pretty late. The exhaustion from everything that had happened must have finally caught up with me. When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the faint light streaming in through the small window in my room. It was morning, and the sanctuary was beginning to stir with the sounds of people starting their day.

I reached over to the small table where I had left my phone charging the night before. It was now fully charged, the screen glowing softly as I pressed the power button. As the device came to life, I felt a mixture of anticipation and unease. I hadn't checked my messages since I left, and I knew there would likely be messages waiting for me—some that I might not be ready to face. 

As my phone powered on, the notifications began to appear, each one a reminder of the world I had left behind. My heart clenched as I saw the names—Charles, Vanessa, Wade, and Logan. I hesitated for a moment, then started with Charles's message.

His message was long, filled with words of concern and hope. He urged me to come back, saying that the X-Mansion was my home and that they could help me, that *he* could help me. But the more I read, the more my frustration grew. His relentless optimism, the way he tried to convince me that everything would be okay, felt like it was mocking my reality. We both knew he couldn't fix this, that the answers I needed weren't at the mansion. His well-meaning words started to piss me off, and I had to resist the urge to just delete the message without replying.

Next was Vanessa's message. It was short but sweet, filled with her usual warmth. She told me she missed me and hoped I was okay, that I should take care of myself and that she was here if I needed to talk. Her kindness made my heart clench with guilt, but I didn't give in. I wasn't ready to reach out, not yet. Not until I had more answers.

Then there was Wade's message. True to form, it was a mix of concern and humor, with him trying to make light of the situation. He asked if I was off on some grand adventure and made a joke about how he and Vanessa were holding down the fort. His message brought a small, reluctant smile to my face, but it also reminded me of the chaos I had left behind. Still, there was a part of me that appreciated his attempt to keep things light, even if it was just his way of coping.

And then there was Logan. I stared at his name for a moment, a wave of confusion washing over me. I didn't even remember having his number in the first place. How did he get my number? The message was brief, almost gruff, asking where I was and if I was okay. There was something about the tone that made me pause—like he was trying to care, but didn't quite know how to say it.

I sighed, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me. The messages from Charles and Logan irritated me, each for different reasons, while Vanessa's and Wade's made me feel guilty for leaving them in the dark. But I knew that I couldn't go back, not yet. Not until I had some clarity, some control over the chaos that had become my life.

For now, I turned off the phone again, deciding that the world outside could wait. There were bigger things to focus on, and I wasn't ready to face any of them yet.

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After turning off my phone and setting it aside, I decided that staying isolated in my room wouldn't do me any good. I needed to start integrating myself into the sanctuary, find my place here, and that meant stepping out and interacting with the people who were now part of my life.

I made my way to the dining room, which was already bustling with activity as mutants gathered for breakfast. The atmosphere was lively, with the clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation filling the air. I grabbed a plate of food and scanned the room, looking for a place to sit.

I spotted Selene sitting at a table with a few others. They seemed friendly enough, so I approached and took a seat next to her. Selene smiled as I joined them and introduced me to the group. They were a mix of personalities—some quiet, others more talkative—but all of them were welcoming and eager to make me feel at home.

As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn't help but feel a little more at ease. It was nice to be around people who understood the complexities of this life, even if I was still struggling to find my footing. They talked about their daily tasks, their powers, and the oddities of living in a place like this. It was almost... normal, in a way that I hadn't expected.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Erik sitting alone at a table across the room. He was drinking from the same blue mug I had seen him with last night, his expression thoughtful as he observed the room. There was something about him that drew me in—a quiet strength, a sense of purpose that I found myself gravitating toward.

Without really thinking about it, I excused myself from Selene's table and made my way over to Erik. He looked up as I approached, and I offered a small smile before taking a seat next to him.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked, even though I had already sat down.

Erik gave a slight nod, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not at all."

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, the noise of the dining room fading into the background. There was something calming about being near him, something that made the chaos in my mind quiet down, even if just for a little while.

"Good morning," I said softly, glancing at the blue mug in his hands. "Same drink as last night?"

Erik looked down at the mug and then back at me, his expression unreadable. "Yes," he replied simply. "A habit of mine."

I nodded, not pushing for more. There was no need to fill the silence with unnecessary words. Instead, I took a bite of my breakfast, feeling a small measure of comfort in the routine of it all.

As we sat together, I couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this place could become something close to a home. I wasn't there yet, but with Erik's quiet presence beside me, it didn't feel so impossible.

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After breakfast, Selene approached me, her expression thoughtful. "Have you decided what you'd like to focus your time on here?" she asked, her tone gentle but direct.

I paused, realizing that I hadn't really given much thought to how I would contribute to the sanctuary. Everything had been so overwhelming since I arrived that finding a role here hadn't even crossed my mind. But as I considered her question, a memory surfaced—something from a life that seemed so distant now.

"I used to work at a flower shop," I said, almost to myself. The memory of arranging flowers, tending to plants, and working with my hands felt like a distant echo of something comforting. 

"Maybe I could work in the garden?"

Selene's eyes softened, and she gave me a small nod. "That sounds like a perfect fit," she said. "The garden could always use more hands, and it's a good way to connect with the earth, to find some peace."

I felt a small sense of relief at her words, as if I had finally found something solid to hold onto in the midst of all the uncertainty. Working in the garden—taking care of plants, nurturing life—felt like a step toward finding some semblance of normalcy, even here.

"Thank you," I replied, feeling a bit more grounded now that I had a purpose, something to focus on besides the chaos in my mind. 

"Come with me," Selene said, a hint of warmth in her voice as she led the way. "I'll show you where you'll be working."

Selene led me through the sanctuary, taking a path that wound through the trees and away from the main buildings. As we walked, the noise of the dining hall and the bustle of the sanctuary began to fade, replaced by the soft rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. The air here felt fresher, more alive, and I could already feel a small sense of peace beginning to settle over me.

Eventually, we reached a small, weathered shed nestled among the trees. Selene pushed open the door, and I followed her inside. The shed was filled with gardening supplies—tools of every kind, from shovels and spades to pruning shears and watering cans. Shelves lined the walls, stocked with bags of soil, fertilizer, and seed packets, all neatly organized. The air inside was cool and smelled faintly of earth and greenery.

"This is where you'll find everything you need," Selene said, gesturing to the various supplies. "The garden is just beyond those trees, and it's yours to take care of. You'll have help, of course, but this will be your space."

I looked around the shed, taking in the sight of the tools and supplies. There was something comforting about the simplicity of it all—working with my hands, nurturing life from the soil. It felt like a small return to normalcy, a piece of the life I had left behind.

"Thank you," I said, my voice soft but sincere. "This... this is exactly what I need right now."Selene smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "I thought it might be. The garden is a place of peace for many here. I hope it becomes that for you, too."

With that, she left me to explore the shed on my own, giving me the space I needed to get familiar with the tools and supplies. I ran my fingers over the handles of the tools, feeling their sturdy weight, and breathed in the earthy scent that filled the shed. This was a place where I could find some solace, a way to reconnect with something simple and pure.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Two hours of hard work in the garden felt like a kind of therapy, the repetitive motions and the earthy scents grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in a long time. But by the time I was done, I was drenched in sweat, dirt streaked across my skin, and I knew I needed a shower—badly.

I walked back to my room, eager to clean up and wash away the grime of the day. Selene had generously given me some body wash and shampoo when I first arrived, and I was looking forward to finally using them. As I grabbed the bottles from the small table by my bed, my phone suddenly started ringing.

I glanced at the screen, and my heart sank when I saw the name: Logan.

I hesitated for a moment, torn between ignoring the call and answering it just to tell him to leave me alone. The frustration I felt toward him, mixed with everything else I was dealing with, bubbled up to the surface. Deciding I wasn't going to let him off easily, I answered the call, ready to yell at him.

But before I could say anything, Logan's voice cut through, sharp and urgent. "We know where you are. We're coming to get you."

And then, just like that, he hung up.

I stared at the phone, the shock of his words sinking in. My heart raced, a mix of anger and panic rising within me. They knew where I was. They were coming here.

The peace I had just begun to find shattered in an instant, replaced by the familiar sense of dread. I had no idea how they had tracked me down or what they intended to do, but one thing was clear—I wasn't ready to face them, not yet.

Part 18: Under pressure

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Between the Ropes.. a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 36: Moves

After the boys finished tearing through their gifts, Rhea and Jey revealed their final surprise: a brand-new PS5. Jaciyah and Jeyce’s eyes lit up as they eagerly set it up in the living room, already debating which game to play first. With the boys happily occupied, Rhea made her way to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

As she began chopping vegetables, Jey slipped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, his hand resting protectively on her belly. “The car can be fixed, baby,” he murmured, sensing the lingering tension in her.

Rhea sighed, pausing her work. “I know, it’s just… I want this all to be over with. I want to feel safe here, you know?”

Jey held her a little tighter. “Remember what Hunter said? Things might get complicated before they get easy. But as long as we have each other, we’ll make it through.”

Rhea turned in his arms, looking up at him with a soft smile. “I love you, Joshua.” The use of his real name always caught him off guard, making his smile deepen.

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, his hand resting gently against her cheek as he poured all his reassurance into that moment. She kissed him back, losing herself in the warmth of his embrace, until— “Dad?” Jeyce’s voice broke through, and they turned to see him standing in the kitchen doorway, holding up a pair of new Vans in his hand, looking a bit sheepish.

Jey chuckled, stepping away from Rhea but keeping his arm around her waist. “What’s up, buddy?”

Jeyce looked down at the shoes. “They don’t fit.”

Jey smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “No worries, we’ll get you a size up. Come on, let’s see what we can do.” He gave Rhea one last look, his eyes filled with love, before heading off with Jeyce.

As they walked away, Rhea couldn’t help but smile, watching Jey guide Jeyce back into the living room, handling the small problem with ease. The sight of her growing family filled her heart, even with all the recent worries.

She turned back to the stove, stirring the pot with renewed energy, feeling lighter. The worries about the car, the fears lingering in the back of her mind — they all faded as she focused on the dinner she was making for her family.

—

“Babe!” Jey’s voice echoed from the living room, a hint of exasperation in his tone.

“What?” Rhea called back, stirring the sauce on the stove.

“The Netflix password!” Jey yelled, frustration evident in his voice.

“It’s your birthday!” Rhea shouted over her shoulder, trying not to laugh.

“I’ve been putting that in!” he replied, clearly exasperated.

“Try our anniversary!” she suggested.

A moment of silence hung in the air before Rhea peeked out from the kitchen to see Jey scratching his head, clearly struggling. “You don’t know our anniversary, really?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Jey glanced up, grinning sheepishly. “Which anniversary? When we started our… you know, thing? When we got serious? When we got engaged?”

Rhea opened her mouth to respond but found herself stumped, realizing he had a point. “You right,” she said with a chuckle, shaking her head before turning back to finish cooking.

After a few moments, she called out, “Dinner’s ready!”

Jaciyah emerged from his room, freshly showered and dressed in the new Nike set Jey had picked out for him. Jeyce came bouncing out of his room, his excitement still evident from all the gifts. Jey joined them from the living room, still muttering something about the Netflix password under his breath, which earned him a playful roll of Rhea’s eyes.

As everyone settled around the dining table, Rhea served up their plates, making sure each got a generous helping. She poured fresh sweet tea into their glasses, the aroma of the food filling the room with a sense of warmth and comfort. They each took a moment to breathe it in, savoring the family moment.

“Alright, let’s say grace,” Jey said, nodding toward Jeyce.

Jeyce looked around, clearly a bit nervous but determined. He cleared his throat, closing his eyes and clasping his hands. “Um, thank you, God, for… for the food,” he started, glancing at his family members for reassurance, “and for… um, our family, and for all the good things we got this year. And… and thank you for my bonus mommy and for the baby growing in tummy, and for Dad getting better. Amen.”

Rhea squeezed Jeyce’s hand, her heart swelling with pride. She glanced at Jey, who looked equally moved, giving their son a nod of approval. Jaciyah gave his little brother a pat on the shoulder, and a warm smile spread across the table as everyone took a moment to appreciate the prayer.

With the warmth of family and laughter surrounding them, they dug into the meal, sharing stories, jokes, and a few lingering glances that reminded them all how lucky they were to have one another.

—

As the family continued to enjoy their dinner, laughter and conversation filling the air, outside the hidden figure crept back into the yard, intent on sabotaging Jey’s Mercedes just as they had done to Rhea’s Jeep. The figure stealthily approached the vehicle, but was suddenly interrupted.

“What are you doing over there?” The voice cut through the darkness, causing the figure to freeze. It was Jey and Rhea’s neighbor, Chief Warrant Officer Vincent Valadez, who had noticed the suspicious activity. Startled, the figure attempted to bolt but accidentally collided with the side of Rhea’s Jeep. Vincent approached the figure and in desperation, they lashed out, kicking Vincent hard in a vulnerable spot, doubling him over in pain.

“HELP! STRANGER!” Vincent managed to shout, his voice loud and urgent.

Inside, Jey immediately perked up, hearing the cry for help. He quickly told Rhea and the boys to stay put and grabbed a knife from the kitchen, rushing to the door. As he opened it, he saw Vincent on the ground, clearly in pain, and a shadowy figure sprinting away down the street. The sight stunned him momentarily, but he quickly collected himself, sprinting to the edge of the driveway, his eyes scanning for any sign of the intruder. But the figure had vanished.

“Fuck!” Jey shouted in frustration, clenching his fists. He turned back toward the driveway and noticed Vincent, still curled up on the ground. Setting the knife down, Jey hurried over to his neighbor and crouched beside him, offering support. “You alright, man?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Vincent gritted his teeth, still wincing from the pain. “Sir… no, sir…” he managed to reply, his military discipline slipping through despite the situation.

Jey raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You… enlisted?”

Vincent nodded weakly. “Chief Warrant Officer Vincent Valadez, sir. Navy SEALs. Home for break.” He let out a strained chuckle. “Damn, that son of a bitch got me good.”

Jey shook his head in admiration and sympathy, helping Vincent to his feet. “Thanks for stepping in, Valadez. That took guts.” He looked Vincent in the eye, a sense of respect passing between them.

Vincent gave a slight nod. “Just looking out. I saw someone by the car… thought something was off.” He paused, regaining his composure. “Didn’t get a good look, though. Only caught a glimpse of his eyes…”

Just then, Rhea’s voice called from the doorway, her tone filled with worry. “Babe! Is everything alright?”

Jey glanced back, then turned to Vincent, his voice low and urgent. “Please, don’t say anything to my wife about this. She’s been through a lot lately. I don’t want to add to her worries.”

Vincent gave a small, understanding nod. “Understood. I won’t say a word.”

With that reassurance, Jey straightened up and turned back toward the house. “Coming, babe!” he called out, doing his best to sound calm. As he approached, he flashed her a reassuring smile, trying to mask the turmoil beneath.

Vincent gave a silent nod before heading back toward his own house, silently vowing to keep an eye out for any more suspicious activity.

—

As the evening settled in, Jey and Rhea entered their bedroom, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Rhea’s mind was racing, still shaken by the events of the night. She took a deep breath and turned to Jey, her brow furrowed with concern. “You need to tell me what happened out there, Jey. I want to know everything.”

Jey hesitated, running a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. “Rhea, it’s really nothing—”

“Nothing? Jey, you just ran out of here with a knife! Something happened!” she pressed, her voice rising slightly. “You can’t keep this from me.”

He sighed, realizing he couldn’t avoid it any longer. “Okay, okay… The neighbor—Vincent—he saw someone messing with my car. When he confronted them, the guy kicked him and took off. I didn’t see the guy’s face but Vincent saw his eyes as he ran away.”

Rhea’s expression shifted from worry to anger. “What if he comes back? What if he comes after us again?” She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “What if he comes after me?”

“That’s why we need to take precautions,” Jey said, attempting to comfort her. “Maybe we should start parking the cars in the garage.”

“Exactly! And we need to talk to Hunter tomorrow about using the housing assistance in Connecticut,” Rhea insisted, her voice filled with urgency.

Jey shook his head, still not fully convinced. “Babe, there’s no need to move now. We can handle this.”

But Rhea’s expression changed, and tears began to spill down her cheeks. “You don’t understand,” she said, her voice trembling as she cradled her stomach. “You weren’t there when he kicked me! You weren’t there when he dragged me by my hair and threw me out of the house, Jey!” The memory of her assault by Matt flooded back, her voice breaking as she recounted the tragic event that led to her first miscarriage.

Jey’s heart sank, and he rushed to her side, wrapping his arms around her as she cried. “Okay, okay, okay,” he murmured, holding her tightly. “I’m here. I’m so sorry, Rhea. I wish I could have been there for you.”

She leaned into him, seeking comfort in his embrace. “It just feels like everything is falling apart. I can’t do this alone,” she whispered, her vulnerability evident.

“You’re not alone. I’m right here with you,” Jey assured her, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

As they stood there in the quiet of their room, Rhea felt the weight of her fears slowly begin to lift.

—

Jeyce and Rhea sat at the kitchen table, enjoying a breakfast of hotcakes and hash browns from McDonald’s. The smell of syrup wafted through the air as they ate, and Rhea scrolled through listings for houses in Stamford, Connecticut. She felt a mix of excitement and anxiety about the potential move, wanting to find the perfect home for their blended family.

“I like that one!” Jeyce exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a house displayed on Rhea’s laptop screen.

Rhea turned to look at the image he was referring to. “I like it too,” she agreed, noting the spacious yard that seemed perfect for the boys to play in.

Jeyce’s expression shifted slightly, and he asked, “Are you and dad moving again?”

Rhea reached out to take his hand, wanting to reassure him. “No matter where we go, you and Jaciyah will always have a room because you’re my bonus sons,” she replied, her voice warm and filled with love. She wanted him to know that no matter how their living situation changed, their bond would remain strong.

“Thanks, bonus mommy,” Jeyce said, a smile returning to his face. The term filled Rhea’s heart with joy, knowing she had a special place in their lives.

“Now finish your pancakes before they get soggy!” she teased, nudging him playfully.

Just as Jeyce dug back into his breakfast, Rhea’s phone buzzed with a FaceTime call from Dominik. She glanced at Jeyce and asked, “You wanna meet Dom?”

Jeyce nodded eagerly, excited to connect with Rhea’s friend. Rhea answered the call and prepped the camera, making sure everything was set.

“Hey, Jeyce!” Dominik greeted, doing some playful kayfabe antics that made Jeyce laugh. After a few moments of joking around, Dominik looked serious and said, “Hey, Rhea, can we talk privately for a bit?”

Rhea nodded, sensing the shift in tone. “Sure, just a second,” she replied, telling Jeyce to finish his breakfast as she stepped out into the backyard for some privacy.

Once outside, Rhea leaned against the patio door, curious about what Dominik had to say. “What’s up?” she asked, noticing a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Dominik took a deep breath before speaking. “So, I wanted to let you know that I’m interested in dating Liv,” he confessed, his tone earnest.

Rhea couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden revelation, thinking about the last conversation she had with Liv. “Really? Liv? That’s interesting,” she replied, her mind racing with thoughts of how Liv would react.

Dominik chuckled, “I know, right? I just think she’s amazing, and I wanted to get your thoughts on it.”

Rhea smiled, touched by his honesty. “Well, Liv deserves someone who appreciates her. Just make sure you treat her right,” she advised, hoping that this budding interest would lead to something special for both of them.

“Thanks, Rhea. I really appreciate your support,” he said, relief washing over him.

As they continued their conversation, Rhea felt a renewed sense of hope. She knew Dom went through hell just getting his marriage annulled, she hoped Liv would give him a different view on what it means to be valued and cherished on a different spectrum.

—

As Jeyce joined Jaciyah in their room to dive into the exciting world of gaming on their new PS5, Rhea remained focused on her laptop, determined to find the perfect house through the approved Housing Assistance program. She scrolled through listings, searching for a spacious home that would also offer her the privacy she desired. The search was exhausting, and she needed something that was available for immediate move-in.

Just then, Jey approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a gentle kiss on her neck. “Have you found anything yet?” he asked, peering at the screen.

Rhea sighed, shaking her head. “Not yet. I’m on page 36 of 37,” she replied, her voice a mix of determination and frustration.

“Babe, all these houses and you can’t find anything?” Jey teased, raising an eyebrow.

But just as a lightbulb went off in her head, Rhea exclaimed, “Wait! I think I found it!” She clicked on the link, and her eyes widened with excitement as she read the details aloud.

The house was in North Stamford, perfectly situated on over 2 acres of beautifully landscaped grounds along the New Canaan border.

“This one is exactly what we need! It’s for those seeking a serene, private, and upscale lifestyle,” she continued, her enthusiasm growing.

Jey leaned closer, intrigued as Rhea detailed the property. “It boasts a covered outdoor kitchen, a charming brick patio, a cozy fire pit, and even a vibrant greenhouse—perfect for year-round enjoyment!” She could hardly contain her excitement.

“Wow, that sounds amazing,” Jey replied, genuinely impressed. “What else?”

Rhea scrolled down, reading the rest of the listing. “Upon entering through a gated drive, you’re welcomed by a grand 2-story foyer with an elegant staircase and windows offering picturesque views of the lush outdoors. The spacious sunroom flows seamlessly into the living and dining rooms, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Jey said, imagining their family gathered in such a beautiful space.

“The gourmet kitchen is perfect for culinary enthusiasts,” Rhea continued. “It even connects to a unique private office or a perfect in-law apartment via a covered breezeway.”

“That’s definitely a plus,” Jey agreed, already picturing family gatherings and holiday meals.

Rhea moved on to the upper level, her excitement palpable. “The primary suite is a haven of relaxation, complete with a fireplace, a luxurious spa bath, a steam shower, and an expansive walk-in closet. And there are three additional bedrooms, a full bath, and a convenient laundry room up there too.”

“Wow, that’s perfect for the boys,” Jey said, nodding appreciatively.

Rhea clicked through the images, showcasing the expansive blue stone terrace, pergola, and surrounding mature gardens, all providing multiple areas for outdoor leisure and gatherings. “And there’s a detached, heated 3-car garage with lots of extra parking!”

Jey smiled, wrapping his arms around Rhea from behind. “This sounds like it could be our new home. Let’s check it out.”

“Absolutely! I’ll put the application right now, I know I’ll be approved for this one.” Rhea said, her heart racing with anticipation as she prepared to take the next step toward finding their new family haven while being financially secured.

Later On-

Rhea stood outside, watching her Jeep being towed away to the garage, her heart heavy with frustration. It felt like yet another setback in an already tumultuous time. Jey approached her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, trying to reassure her. “Everything will be okay, babe,” he said softly, sensing her unease.

Jeyce, sitting on the steps, looked up at Rhea with a curious expression. “Are you taking away to get more purple?” he asked, referencing her beloved Jeep’s vibrant color.

Rhea couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Yes, Jeyce, I’ll be sure to get it some more purple.” She leaned down, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, how about we watch a scary movie tonight? Would you like that?”

Jeyce’s eyes lit up. “SAW?” he exclaimed excitedly.

Jey immediately interjected, “No way, not happening.” He shot a stern look at Jeyce, wanting to protect his younger brother from the horror he thought too intense for him.

Jaciyah, who had been listening from the doorway, chimed in, “I’ve seen it.”

Jey turned to his oldest son, slightly exasperated. “It’s different for a kid like Jeyce watching it. Trust me,” he replied, trying to emphasize his point.

Rhea chuckled, enjoying the playful banter. “How about we compromise and watch Insidious instead?” she suggested.

Jeyce nodded eagerly, his excitement palpable. “Yes! I’m in!”

Jey looked at Rhea, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t that PG-13?” he asked skeptically.

“It is,” Rhea replied, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “But it’s still a lot of fun!”

Jey rolled his eyes in mock defeat, knowing he wouldn’t win this argument. “Fine, Insidious it is. But if you get scared, it’s not my fault,” he teased, and Rhea playfully nudged him.

The three of them headed inside, the atmosphere lightening as they prepared for their movie night. Rhea felt a small sense of relief as they settled into the couch, knowing that moments like these with her family were what truly mattered, even amidst the chaos. As the opening scene rolled, she couldn’t help but smile, grateful for the laughter and togetherness, if only for a little while.

—

Friday. 7:17 AM. December 20th, 2024.

Rhea turned in the bed, feeling the familiar warmth of Jey beside her. She opened her eyes slightly, just enough to see him easing the comforter aside as he climbed in. Jey wrapped his arms around her, a comforting presence that made her feel safe. “I just dropped off the boys at the airport,” he murmured softly.

Rhea smiled sleepily, snuggling deeper into his embrace. “That’s good,” she replied, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. The red numbers glowed 7:17 AM, and she attempted to drift back to sleep. Jey held her close, matching her rhythm as he began to relax, but their peaceful moment was soon interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

“Did you lock the doors?” Rhea asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Hold on,” Jey replied, reluctantly letting go of her as he reached for his phone. He unlocked the phone and checked the ring app, his brow furrowing as he saw the mailman standing outside.

“What does he need?” Jey muttered, tapping the app to speak to the man through the door. The mailman explained that he required a signature to release a certified letter.

“Alright, I’ll be right there,” Jey said, getting out of bed and quickly making his way to the front door. He unlocked it and signed for the letter, taking a moment to glance at the mailman before closing the door again.

As he tore open the envelope, his heart raced a little. Inside were the contracts he and Rhea had been waiting for: his renewal for five more years with a significant salary increase and hers for her new executive writer position.

“Perfect timing,” Jey murmured to himself, a smile creeping onto his face. He locked the door back and placed the papers on the couch before heading back to the bedroom.

Once inside, he quickly drew the blackout curtains to shield them from the early morning light and climbed back into bed, pulling Rhea close again. “Guess what just came?” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

“What?” Rhea mumbled, burying her face into his chest, still fighting the urge to sleep.

“Our contracts,” Jey replied, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “We’re officially set for the next five years.”

Rhea’s eyes fluttered open, curiosity piqued. “Really? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, and yours is for the executive position,” Jey said, grinning. “We’re on a roll, babe.”

“Now that’s worth celebrating,” she said, finally fully awake, a playful smile spreading across her face. Rhea shifted to look into his eyes, feeling a renewed sense of hope for their future together. “But first, sleep now..”

“Absolutely,” Jey replied, chuckling softly as he pretended to be nestled into her, the weight of their new contracts feeling light compared to the love they shared, and the intimacy building in him since they were both kind of up. “Or we could do something else…” Jey said as he kissed her neck. Rhea looked over at her fiancé and said, “You have to eat your breakfast before anything..” She grinned sheepishly.

“Yes mam…” He said while going underneath the comforter. Rhea propped herself up a bit as she felt his hands spread her legs and push her underwear to the side and let Jey’s tongue do his magic.

—

Rhea turned on the shower, rinsing off the remnants of the morning’s intimacy. As the water cascaded over her, she glanced down at her stomach, imagining it growing over the months to come. She placed a gentle hand over her abdomen, a faint smile tugging at her lips as the possibilities danced in her mind.

After drying off, she dressed in a comfortable outfit, ran a towel through her hair, and stepped out of the bathroom. The scene that greeted her made her chuckle — Jey was sitting on the floor, playing with Bella, their sweet pup, who was enthusiastically licking his face.

Jey looked up, catching her gaze with a smile. “What do you want to do today?” he asked, still playing with Bella, her tail wagging in excitement.

Rhea shrugged as she walked over, leaning against the doorway. “That depends. What kind of day are we planning?”

Jey thought for a moment, petting Bella’s head. “I think we should be productive. We’ve got a lot to figure out with the move and everything.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what exactly?”

Jey gave her a grin and gestured for her to grab her phone. “Alright, let’s make a list of everything we need to do.”

She pulled out her phone, opening the notes app, and looked up, ready. “Okay, go.”

Jey held up a finger, organizing his thoughts. “First, we have to call Brenda Vernado, the Housing Assistance representative, to see what we need to submit to get started on the house paperwork.”

Rhea nodded, typing as he spoke. “Got it.”

Jey continued, his tone serious. “Then we need to look up doctors in Stamford for our appointments. You need a neurologist and an OB. I need a physical therapist.”

She added it to the list, feeling the weight of the tasks but also a strange sense of excitement. “Check. Next?”

Jey glanced around the room, considering. “Depending on what Brenda says, we’ll need to start packing, even if we’re waiting on approval. And we should look for state-to-state movers for the cars and furniture.”

Rhea typed that in as well. “Check, check. Anything else?”

Jey’s expression turned a bit more serious. “You also need to figure out when you want to announce your retirement. You have either this Monday or next Monday in Houston.”

Rhea’s fingers hovered over the phone screen for a moment. She nodded slowly, adding it to the list. “I’ll think about it.”

Jey reached out, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “And then we need to call the rental agency here to cancel the lease.”

Rhea finished typing, then looked up at him with a small smile. “Okay. That’s everything for now, I think.”

Jey nodded, satisfied. “Once we’ve got the house stuff situated, we can handle the rest more easily.”

She returned his smile, opening her email to search for Brenda Vernado’s contact info. As she scrolled through her messages, she felt a sense of determination settling within her. This was a big step, but they were doing it together.

“Found it,” she announced, showing him the email with Brenda’s contact details. “I’ll call her first and get things moving.”

Jey leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “We got this, babe. One step at a time.”

Rhea took a deep breath, her fingers tapping nervously against her phone as she dialed the WWE Housing Assistance representative, Brenda Vernado. She knew they had already chosen a house in Stamford, which typically sped up the process. Jey sat beside her, offering his support with a reassuring squeeze on her knee.

The phone rang for a moment before Brenda’s warm voice greeted her. “Hello, this is Brenda Vernado with WWE Housing Assistance. How may I assist you today?”

“Hi, Brenda. This is Demi Bennett,” Rhea began, her voice steadying. “I recently selected a house in North Stamford, and I wanted to discuss the next steps for the housing assistance process.”

“Hi, Demi! It’s great to hear from you. I have your case on file. Since you’ve already picked a property, that definitely makes things smoother. Let’s go over what you’ll need to finalize your move.”

“Absolutely. I want to ensure we have everything covered,” Rhea said, feeling a sense of urgency. “Are there any specific documents or requirements you need from us?”

“First, we’ll need proof of your income over the past six months, along with any employment verification documents,” Brenda explained. “Additionally, if you have any assistance programs or financial support, we’ll need that documentation as well.”

“Got it. I’ll gather those right away,” Rhea replied, taking notes. “Also, we’re hoping to find medical professionals in Stamford. I have ongoing medical concerns, and Jey needs a physical therapist. It’s important for us to continue our care as soon as we get settled.”

“Of course,” Brenda said, her tone reassuring. “I can compile a list of local doctors, specialists, and physical therapists in the area to send to you. I’ll make sure you have that information along with the other documents.”

Rhea felt a wave of relief. “Thank you, Brenda. That would be incredibly helpful.”

“There’s one more thing I wanted to mention,” Brenda added. “As an executive with WWE now, you’ll have additional benefits to assist with your move. We provide a relocation package that covers moving expenses, including professional movers and transportation for your vehicles. We want to make this transition as smooth as possible for you.”

Rhea’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? That’s amazing! I had no idea.”

“Yes, and it includes a stipend for temporary housing if you need it while settling into your new home,” Brenda explained. “Just make sure to keep any receipts for moving expenses, and we’ll reimburse you accordingly.”

“Thank you so much, Brenda,” Rhea said, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude. “This means a lot, especially during such a big change for us.”

“Not a problem, Demi. I’ll get everything compiled and sent to you within thin the hour. Just remember to send over your documents as soon as you can, and I’ll prioritize your case.”

After confirming a few more details, Rhea hung up the phone, a smile spreading across her face. “We’re really doing this, Jey. They’re going to help us with everything!”

Jey’s grin mirrored her excitement as he pulled her into a tight embrace. “See? I told you it would all come together. We’re one step closer to starting our new life in Stamford.”

—

Jey and Rhea sat comfortably on the couch, a steaming container of Chinese food nestled between them as they watched Titanic. The movie flickered on the screen, but their attention was mostly on each other, sharing playful banter and stealing bites from one another’s plates.

“This part always gets me,” Rhea said, trying to stifle a laugh as Jack and Rose stood on the bow of the ship, arms outstretched. “I can’t believe people still think they could fit on that door!”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m telling you, if I were Jack, I’d have pulled her up, and they’d both be alive and making beautiful babies somewhere.”

Rhea nudged him playfully, her heart swelling with affection. They had crossed off every item on their to-do list, and Brenda had even given them a timeline for their move. “Can you believe we have an expected move-in date of January 27th? It feels so surreal!”

Jey took a bite of his food, glancing around their cozy living room, which was adorned with Grinch-themed Christmas decor—fluffy green garlands, twinkling lights, and a stuffed Grinch lounging on the mantelpiece. “Yeah, and we’ve got a whole month to get everything ready. I’m really proud of how smoothly everything’s gone so far,” he said, smiling.

Rhea nodded, her expression softening. “You did great with the lease cancellation, by the way. I thought they’d hit us hard with fees since we broke the contract early.”

“Honestly, they were surprisingly reasonable. I think they saw the value in keeping me as a tenant, especially since I brought in more business for them,” Jey replied, pride lacing his tone. “Once I explained our situation and when we’d be moving, they didn’t charge us nearly as much as they normally would have.”

“I’m glad we’re getting to save a bit of money, too,” Rhea said, her voice thoughtful. “It’ll help with the moving expenses. I still can’t believe we’re going to be homeowners soon.”

“Yeah, and once we’re settled, we’ll have a place that’s truly ours. No more leases or worrying about rules,” Jey added, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “We can decorate however we want, have family over, and—”

“Host epic movie nights!” Rhea interjected, grinning. “Just imagine, we could even have a projector outside for movie nights in the summer!”

“That’s a plan,” Jey said, laughing.

They both fell into a comfortable silence, the warmth of their food and each other’s presence wrapping around them like a blanket. Rhea leaned her head against Jey’s shoulder, and he draped an arm around her, pulling her closer.

As the movie played on, Rhea felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. “You know, I really couldn’t have done any of this without you. You’ve been my rock through everything,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Jey looked down at her, his gaze softening. “We’re in this together, Rhea. Always have been, always will be. I’m just glad things are falling into place for us.”

Rhea smiled up at him, her heart full. “Me too, Jey. I can’t wait to start this new chapter.”

The iconic movie scene continued to unfold on the screen, Jey and Rhea were lost in their own world, dreaming of the future they would build together.

—

The attorney leaned back in his chair, a confident smirk spreading across his face as he reviewed the case file for The State of Florida vs. Matthew Addams. The courtroom buzzed outside his office, but he was lost in his thoughts, focused solely on the notes before him. He had seen cases like this before—cases fueled by emotion, driven by impulsive actions that could be portrayed as a temporary lapse in judgment.

As he flipped through the pages, the details began to crystallize. Matt’s actions, while undeniably violent, stemmed from a moment of passion—jealousy, betrayal, and raw emotions swirling together like a perfect storm. The attorney could already envision how he would frame the narrative to the jury.

“Passion-driven, not premeditated,” he murmured to himself, tapping a pen against the desk. “This wasn’t murder; it was a crime of passion. A momentary blunder.” He knew how to leverage that angle, how to make the jury empathize with Matt instead of condemning him.

He noted the evidence against Matt: the 911 call, the witness statements, and the physical evidence. But there was also the mitigating factor—the testimony from Matt’s friends who could speak to his character, his previous peaceful demeanor, and how the incident was a deviation from the norm.

“Get the right witnesses, paint the picture, and it’s a done deal,” he thought, his mind racing with possibilities. “We’ll focus on how his state of mind was compromised—how he was pushed to a breaking point.”

The attorney grabbed a notepad and began jotting down his strategy: contact character witnesses, gather evidence of Matt’s mental state before the incident, and explore any potential defenses based on provocation. He could see it now—how he would stand in front of the jury, appealing to their sense of justice, their ability to understand human emotion.

“Not guilty by reason of temporary insanity,” he whispered, satisfaction coursing through him. “This is a case I can win.”

He leaned back in his chair, envisioning the courtroom drama. The murmurs of the courtroom, the expectant faces of the jury, the impact of his arguments. With each passing moment, his confidence grew. This was more than just a case; it was an opportunity to showcase his skills and turn a desperate situation into a triumph.

With renewed determination, he began drafting a list of witnesses he needed to contact. If he played his cards right, he could transform Matt’s dire situation into a compelling story of redemption. As he scribbled down names, he felt the thrill of the challenge ahead, ready to fight for his client’s future with everything he had.

[chaos-chloe]

The Kindhearted King's- Droid x Reader, Clooless x reader

Summary: ___ just had surgery, and The gang turned their cooking stream into making dinner for her.

TW: fluffy, Established relationship, platonic friendships

“Hi, chat!” Droid greeted the camera as he went live on Twitch. “So as yall know we are going to be doing a cooking stream and instead of doing something sweet, we are actually going to make dinner. Now why the change you might ask?”

“The change of plans happened since my lovely girlfriend, as yall know _, had to have emergency surgery on her knee.” Droid gives the information out as he was pacing on the camera

“So, let’s make this dinner extra special for____,” Droid added, peeking into the living room where was sound asleep with Sly, recovering from her surgery. “She deserves the best chat, like come on, look at me.”

Grizzy, with his chef’s hat perched precariously on his head walks into frame, boomed, “Alright, team! What are we going to whip up? I vote for a feast worthy of a queen!”

“Let’s make _’s favorite! Fettuccine Alfredo with garlic bread,” Droid announced, flipping through a digital cookbook app. The chat exploded with excitement.

As they gathered ingredients, Pezzy took charge of boiling the pasta. With a flourish, he tossed the noodles into the pot, making an exquisite splash that soaked his apron. “It’s a part of the cooking process!” he proclaimed, as viewers laughed along.

Meanwhile, Grizzy was in charge of making the sauce. “Butter and cream—a classic combo!” he sang, mixing in zest and a touch too much salt when he wasn't looking. Puffer, working beside him, tried to keep the peace. “Easy on the salt, Grizzy! We don’t want _ waking up thinking she just bit into the ocean!”

Across the countertop, Droid managed the garlic bread. He topped the slices with butter and herbs, all while playfully pretending to be a food critic for the stream. He raised an imaginary glass, saying, “I declare this garlic bread ready for the finest of palates!”

As the aroma of buttery, garlicky goodness filled the kitchen, Grizzy stirred the sauce with enthusiasm, and viewers began to leave comments about how amazing everything looked. Their streaming chat was alive with advice, encouragement, and playful banter.

“Maybe we should add a surprise ingredient?” Pezzy suggested, mischievously. “What if we make it fancier and add a little mushroom?”

“Or some peas?” Puffer added. Grizzy feigned horror, “No green—this is a classic!”

Just then, a soft snore echoed from the living room, causing everyone to stop and look over. “Shhh the baby is still sleeping!” Droid whispered, trying to keep the atmosphere calm. “Let’s finish up before she wakes up craving the food we’re cooking.”

Finally, after much laughter, splashes of sauce, and a tiny kitchen fiasco involving an overturned bowl of cheese, the feast was complete. They plated the fettuccine Alfredo alongside the golden garlic bread, and it looked like something out of a five-star restaurant.

“Let’s bring it to her together!” Droid said, excitement bubbling over. They carefully tiptoed towards the living room where _ lay sound asleep, surrounded by her cozy blankets.

As they approached, Sly was tucked into ___’s blanket then, _ stirred slightly but remained blissfully unaware of the deliciousness unfolding before her. Droid gently placed the steaming plates on the table nearby. “! Dinner is served!” he said softly.

With the four friends gathered around her, the aroma wafted through the air and finally stirred _ awake. Her eyes fluttered open, and she took in the sight of her friends, laughter in their eyes and kindness in their hearts. “What’s this?” she asked, her voice still sleepy.

“Your favorite!” Puffer declared with pride. “Made with love and hate.”

The joy on _'s face melted their hearts. They laughed and shared stories of their cooking escapades and streamed the moments that followed—her delight at the pasta, the playful teasing between friends, and even a few bloopers they had captured along the way.

As the evening wore on, the chat flooded with heart emojis and encouragement, each viewer feeling a part of the unlikely family gathering taking place. _, feeling cared for and cherished, recognized just how lucky she was to have friends like these and a loving partner by her side.

As the stream wrapped up, viewers couldn’t help but feel like they were part of something truly special—a celebration of friendship, kindness, and delicious food. They knew they'd be back for more adventures with The Clooless Gang, and that this was just the beginning of many more culinary capers to come.

[leggerefiore]

cw: short, fluff, pla Ingo

pairing: Ingo/Reader

Ingo sighed as he laid his bounty in the basin of the small home. You were still out on a survey, as he had checked with your captain to be certain. His pack had made her cock a brow up, yet his explanation soothed whatever worries may have she held. Instead, he politely excused himself and headed to your home at once. There, he slipped off his shoes in the entryway and headed for the small front room, which brought him back to the present. His coat and cap were laid out while his heavy tunic was slipped off. The left him in just his undershirt and slacks.

You had clearly mentioned being sick of potato mochi as of late. He understood. Eating the same thing over and over again could grow boring, and variety truly was the spice of life. That was something he almost definitely recalled, even before meeting you. Something inside of him did not mind the soups and stews often served by the Pearl Clan, but having the same one so many days in a row had been truly maddening. Even if he understood it was due to the difficulty of agriculture in the icelands, he had needed a change. That was why a certain skill apparently came back to him so easily.

He began to wash off the foraged items he brought from his wanderings in the highlands. Irida had commented on his talents with cooking as it almost was as notable as his abilities with pokemon. A comment that he must have been a servant before he ended up here made him feel oddly flustered. That did not seem correct with his more recent memories, however.

Noodles that he had bought from Beni were placed to the side while water was set over your built-in stove to coke to a boil. A knife was taken from your set as he back to chop the ingredients. Ingredients were separated out by how they would be added to the pot. Mushrooms came first, hoping to make the broth that he deaired. A bit of seasonings for flavour that Beni had offered was dumped in, too, but he wondered if it would have the effect needed. When that seemed to have become mixed together in the boil, the noodles were added. Then, after they had become glossy and absorbed the broth, the vegetables previously gathered were also dumped in. The room smelled pleasantly. Ingo sat down and wiped his brow. Even he felt a bit hungry now.

By the time you had arrived home, the dish was ready. You gasped when you were greeted at the door by the Warden. He had leaned down to press a sweet kiss to your lips and help get you ready to relax. Sitting you down near the fire, he filled a bowl to serve you. The hot porcelain almost scorched your hands, but your stomach growled. Beginning to eat, you felt your taste buds alight with flavour. His cooking was wonderful, as it always had been. Your praise spoken to him only made him fluster and look away.

“I am happy to hear that, dearest,” Ingo spoke as you continued to eat, “Irida had said that I must have been a servant from my skills here alone.” You stopped eating mid-mouthful and blinked at him.

“I mean… Kind of? At least in the station,” you nodded, “Well, no, you were in charge there. I guess at home you were.” He had always loved to slip on an apron and surprise you with a meal back in Unova. Then, on his off days, he tended to go crazy over chores. The fact that it continued here in Hisui made you feel a lot better about this entire situation. He was still the same Ingo somewhere inside, after all.

“… I was your servant?” he tilted his head in a familiar manner.

“No, we were together. You just liked to do things constantly, so…” You sighed, “You weren't anyone's servant, no.”

His hand unexpectedly grasped yours as he grew closer. Those flustered cheeks of his haunted your mind. Lips were against your own for a moment before he pulled away.

“I don't think I would mind being your servant,” he mumbled out, “… Won't you let me serve you tonight?”

You were not about to deny such a simple request from the man.