It was mid-December—the kind of cold that creeps past your coat collar and settles in your bones. Outside, the windows were frosted over, snow piling lazily on the sills.
Inside Jessica Drew’s place, it was a different world: golden lighting, heat humming through the vents, and the sweet scent of cinnamon and cocoa floating through the air. A fireplace video crackled quietly on the screen, though Jess already had the remote ready to switch it to a movie once everyone settled.
Margo sat on the couch, one leg tucked under her, hunched slightly forward. Her laptop was open but untouched next to her. She had a stocking kit spread out in front of her, halfway built and already mildly frustrating.
She narrowed her eyes at the pile of craft pieces like they’d personally insulted her. “Why would you send this without labeling the parts?” she mumbled, tone dry. “This is why no one trusts DIY influencers.”
She shoved a wooden reindeer aside with a finger, scanning for the ‘M’ piece. Her fingers moved quickly but precisely—mechanical but careful. Her glasses slipped a little, and she pushed them back up without even thinking about it.
From the kitchen, the sound of socks sliding against tile announced Peni’s arrival. She wore a baggy red hoodie, sleeves dangling well past her hands, and a cheap Santa hat slightly askew. She rocked side to side on her heels, chin tilted as she sniffed the air.
Jessica, back turned, was stirring a saucepan of cocoa with slow, practiced movements. Her sleeves were rolled up, exposing her strong forearms. Her curls were pulled into a messy bun, and her apron—faded and cracked—read: #1 Mom (By Default).
Without turning, Jess spoke in her usual cool, low tone. “You’re sniffin’ like you just smelled cookies, not cocoa.”
Peni grinned. “I was checking for marshmallows.” She pointed to the counter. “You better not ration them.”
Jessica glanced over her shoulder, one brow raised. “You ration marshmallows with people who chew loud. You’re safe—for now.”
Peni leaned over the counter, eyes lighting up as Jess reached for the bag. “Robot mug?”
“Of course,” Jess said, already grabbing the blue mech-printed mug from the cabinet.
In the living room, Margo called out, not looking up from her project, “Two candy canes this time. One’s for stabbing.”
“Noted,” Jessica said, smirking.
The mugs were all hand-picked: Margo’s was deep purple with pixel hearts; Gwen’s, a soft ballet pink with satin slippers; Jess’s was a chipped red-and-yellow mug with a sleek motorcycle on the side—the same one sitting in her garage.
She handed Peni her cocoa first—overflowing with marshmallows—and was just adding whipped cream to Margo’s when a soft hum vibrated through the air.
A portal shimmered into existence near the front door, casting a pale yellow-orange glow.
No one flinched. Portals were normal around here.
Gwen stepped through, hoodie on, hands tucked into her sleeves, a small silver-and-green wrapped box tucked under one arm. She gave a little shake of her shoulders, snowflakes scattering from her hood, and scanned the room.
Her expression was calm, soft around the eyes. “Hey,” she said simply, walking toward Jessica and holding the box out. “This is for {{user}}. Thanks for having me.”
Jessica bumped her fist lightly against Gwen’s shoulder and took the gift. “They’re probably gonna try to eat it.”
“I mean... that’s fair,” Gwen replied, one corner of her mouth tugging upward.
As if summoned, {{user}} toddled in from the hallway, their tiny feet padding across the floor. Peni immediately knelt and held out a single marshmallow like it was treasure.
“Here comes the gremlin,” she whispered.
{{user}} blinked, looked between the marshmallow and the shiny-wrapped gift, and reached out for both.
Gwen crouched beside them, quietly amused. “Guess we’ll see which one wins.”
Jessica leaned against the counter, sipping from her own mug, watching it all with that slow, knowing smile—the kind only tired-but-happy moms can pull off.